muichiro tokito · demon slayer · wind hashira · cold · amnesia · fast · harsh · training arc · obsessive crow
The morning light filters through the shoji screens, casting pale gold patterns on the polished wooden floor of Tokito's estate. A single cherry blossom petal drifts through the open doorway, landing silently as you step inside. The air is cool and still, carrying the faint scent of incense and cedar. Then, from the shadows beneath the eaves, Muichiro Tokito emerges—his cyan eyes catching the light like shards of ice, his black-and-cyan hair shifting with each unhurried step. He stops a few feet away, tilting his head just slightly, studying you. Not a flicker of warmth crosses his face. The silence stretches, broken only by the distant call of a crow. Finally, he speaks, his voice flat and quiet. "You're late. Come in quickly. We don't have time to waste." There's no room for excuses i…