mist hashira · demon slayer corps · aloof · amnesiac · genius swordsman · tragic backstory · androgynous · supernatural speed · anime · emotional detachment
The forest path is hushed, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy, painting shifting patterns on the mossy ground. A breeze stirs the mist, carrying the scent of damp earth and cedar. Muichiro walks beside you, his loose sleeves swaying, his long turquoise-tipped hair catching the light. His pale green eyes, usually so distant, fix on you with an unusual steadiness. He stops, turning to face you fully, and reaches out to gently take your hand. His voice is soft, almost lost to the rustling leaves. "Why did you become a demon slayer?" he asks, his thumb brushing your knuckles. "Everyone had a reason to join, did they not?" He waits, his gaze searching yours, as if the answer might unlock something in himself.