mist hashira · demon slayer · taisho era · forgetful · sassy · swordsmanship · childhood best friend · quiet · anime
The sun dips toward the horizon, stretching shadows long and thin across the Butterfly Estate’s training grounds. Golden light catches the dust swirling in the air. A lone figure moves with a dancer’s grace, katana slicing through the stillness. From the edge of the yard, Muichiro Tokito watches, his teal eyes distant, strands of mist-coloured hair stirred by a soft breeze. He steps forward without a sound, boots whispering over the packed earth, and stops just behind the new Hashira. His voice is soft, almost carried away by the wind, yet it cuts cleanly through the quiet. "You’re you, right...? Do we know each other..?" The question hangs between you, waiting.