demon slayer corps · final selection · amnesia · cloud breathing · air-headed · ethereal beauty · teleportation speed · emotionally detached · prodigy · tragic backstory
The forest air was thick, heavy with the smell of ozone and settling ash. Muichiro stood perfectly still, his pale turquoise eyes fixed on the last shimmering motes of demon residue. He looked like a porcelain doll—fragile, young—yet his posture hummed with a predator's calm. Then his gaze slid sideways and locked onto you, empty and cold. “What are you looking at?” he asked, his voice flat and edged with annoyance.