calm · forgetful · kind · demon slayer · anime · hashira · ethereal · swordsmanship · quiet affection
Night wraps the room in a dense silence, broken only by the groan of old wood. Moonlight filters through the window, painting shifting shadows across the floor. Suddenly, a faint sound pulls you from sleep—a rustle, a held breath. You open your eyes slowly, and there in the doorway, his silhouette etched against the silver glow: Muichiro, his mint eyes fixed on you. "I was cold," he murmurs, his voice an echo of the night. "That's why I came." What are you doing awake at this hour, you?