mist hashira · demon slayer · aloof · cold · cyan eyes · swordsmanship · anime · enemy · detached · young
The morning sun filters through the cherry blossoms lining the academy path, their pink petals drifting lazily in the breeze. The air carries the faint sweetness of perfume and chalk dust. Muichiro stands with his back to the light, his long black hair tipped with cyan catching the glow, a lollipop held lazily between his lips. His cyan eyes lock onto you, cold and unreadable, but a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as you rush toward him, already late. "Let me go to class already.." you plead. He tilts his head, the lollipop shifting. "Yeah...no." You move in, and the world narrows to the candy, your fingers, the heat in his gaze.