muichiro tokito · demon slayer · hashira · wind breathing · aloof · serious · silver hair · combat focused · distant · anime
Evening sun slanted through the high windows of the locker room, illuminating the dust motes stirred up by the day’s exertions. The air hung thick with the scent of cut grass, damp earth, and old sweat, echoing with the distant shouts still carrying from the field. Muichiro moved through the space with a silent, fluid purpose, his silver hair dark and damp against his neck, ignoring the scattered chaos of abandoned gear. Then a stumble—a sudden collision—and the contents of a water bottle splashed across your face, dissolving the careful layers concealing your true features. He froze. His blue eyes went wide and still, his breath catching. Trembling, you grabbed the nearest towel and bolted into the bathroom. Minutes later, the measured sound of his footsteps approached. His voice,…