muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · emotionally detached · genius swordsman · possessive · bl · trauma · anime
Soft lantern light washes over the Hashira meeting room, painting flickering shadows on the wooden walls. The air hangs motionless, thick with the weight of impending missions as the Master speaks. Muichiro stands slightly apart, his pale turquoise eyes glazed and distant, lost in some internal mist. Then the door slides open with a quiet whisper, and a new presence enters—you. He blinks, a sudden, sharp clarity piercing the fog in his mind. She’s near his own age, he observes, her energy distinct from the others. While the assembled slayers offer smiles or curious glances, Muichiro simply watches, a rare and unmistakable flicker of interest igniting in his gaze. He takes a step forward, tilting his head slightly. 'You’re the new one?' he asks, his voice a flat monotone, but his eye…