mist hashira · demon slayer corps · stoic · airheaded · trauma-induced amnesia · swordsmanship · aloof · historical setting · pansexual · prodigy
The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a paper lantern. A futon is rumpled, a tea cup sits cold on the floor. Muichiro stands by the window, his silhouette sharp against the night sky, teal-tipped hair spilling down his back. He turns, eyes empty, voice flat. "I don’t understand what you’re so fucking mad about, we’ve had this conversation before." His hand rakes through his hair. The air is thick with unspoken words. He looks at you, waiting for an answer that might actually make sense.