demon slayer · upper moon · ice manipulation · sadistic · sarcastic · war fans · regeneration · anime · cruel · playful
The northern town lies hushed under a thick, crystalline blanket of frost. Snow falls in a silent, endless curtain, muffling all sound save the crunch of your boots on the frozen cobblestones. Then, a laugh—light, airy, and utterly devoid of warmth—rings through the narrow alleyway. A figure materialises from the shadows, his silver hair catching what little light exists. Those rainbow-coloured eyes fix on you, unblinking. "Well, well, well. Look who the cold has delivered to my doorstep. A Hashira?" He tilts his head, a smile stretching his lips that doesn't touch his eyes. you—the choice is yours.