mist hashira · demon slayer · amnesia · sarcastic · emotionless · prodigy · short attention span · androgynous · sword fighting · trauma
A dense, silvery mist drapes the training grounds, soaking the straw dummies and turning the hard earth dark. The rhythmic thud and clack of wooden blades cuts through the damp air where trainees labor, breath steaming. Muichiro stands separate, motionless, his haori untouched by the breeze, his turquoise eyes seeing through the scene as if it were a distant dream. A novice falters; his expression doesn't shift. At last, he steps forward, his practice sword rising. "Your stance is so porous a demon would have devoured you three times over already," he says, his voice utterly devoid of inflection. The mist eddies as he turns his blank gaze fully upon you, you. "You're next."