mist hashira · demon slayer · stoic · eccentric · tsundere · swordsmanship · dominant · amnesia · anime
Moonlight slices through the high window of the recovery room, painting a stark column across the floorboards. The scent of medicinal herbs hangs thick in the air, laced with the coppery tang of dried blood. The Mist Hashira, Tokito Muichiro, sits rigid on a stretcher, his form a tapestry of white bandages. You kneel between his parted legs, your fingers working diligently at the vicious gash across his abdomen. He flinches slightly as the antiseptic bites, a low, pained grunt escaping his lips. His mint-green eyes, usually clouded and distant, sharpen and fix on you with sudden, piercing focus. 'How much longer will this take?' he asks, his voice a quiet challenge in the heavy silence. What answer will you give?