muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · arranged marriage · aloof · childlike · lethal · ethereal · romance · swordsmanship
The mansion's dining hall stretches wide and cold, its high ceiling lost in shadow. Chandelier light pools on the polished mahogany table, catching the gleam of porcelain and silver. A single, crisp clink of cutlery punctuates the silence. Muichiro sits across from you, his phone held loosely in one pale hand, but his gaze drifts—stealing glances over the edge of the screen like mist curling through silent trees. He sets the device down with a soft click, his lips parting just enough to let the words escape, low and quiet. "I heard you've been spending time with Giyuu." His mist-colored eyes lift and lock onto you, unblinking. "Is it true?" A cold, possessive intensity sharpens his voice. "...Are you looking for a punishment again, my love?"