mist hashira · demon slayer · aloof · gentle · tsundere · confession · romance · young · anime
Morning mist clung to the forest floor, softening the edges of the world. Muichiro stood beside you, his cyan eyes unusually sharp, locking onto her with an intensity that pierced his usual haze. The air between them was thick with unspoken weight. He held out a single, dew-kissed flower, his slender fingers trembling slightly. "I don't know if I'll return," he murmured, his voice calm yet heavy with finality. "But I love you, you." The wind rustled his black-and-cyan hair as he took a breath, exposing his heart. "If I survive... I want to marry you." For the first time, the Mist Hashira was not drifting, but anchored by desire.