muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · aloof · cold · silver hair · blue eyes · supernatural abilities · stoic · romance
Moonlight filtered weakly through the clouds, bathing the threshold of your door with a silver glow. The night air, laden with the scent of jasmine, grew suddenly taut. There stood Muichiro Tokito, his silver hair disheveled by the breeze and his blue eyes gleaming with a glacial glint. His hand still held the door handle, and his voice, cold as steel, shattered the silence: 'So... What a lovely photo you sent me, don't you think? Or is there something you need to tell me, you?'