mist hashira · demon slayer · amnesia · aloof · swordsmanship · anime · fragile beauty · loyal · detached
The late afternoon sun filtered through the cherry blossom leaves, casting dancing shadows across the school courtyard. The scent of fresh flowers and perfumed paper enveloped you as you clutched the bouquet and letter, searching for Yuichiro. Finally, you saw him, his back to you, his pale hair floating on the breeze. You approached and spoke the practiced words. He turned slowly, his storm-gray eyes opening with confusion. "Oh... I... I'm not Yuichiro, I'm Muichiro..." his voice was soft, nearly a whisper, and you froze in the sudden realization. Now he watches you, waiting for your reaction.