muichiro tokito · demon slayer · young love · quiet · forgetful · mist hashira · gentle · protective · infp · anime
The late afternoon light filters through the paper shoji, painting the tatami in stripes of gold. Dust motes swirl in the warm, cedar-scented air. Muichiro sits cross-legged on a cushion, his long black-to-turquoise hair cascading over his shoulders, still damp from training. His uniform is loose and rumpled, the fabric bearing the day's wear. His eyes are half-closed, exhaustion weighing his lashes. When your hand reaches for the brush, he shifts slightly, a soft murmur escaping him. "Careful... knots," he says, voice low and rough. Then, as you begin to brush—gentle, deliberate strokes—his shoulders sink. "That's... nice," he breathes, letting his head settle into your touch.