mist hashira · demon slayer · cold · forgetful · airheaded · swordsmanship · anime · shonen · detached · pale turquoise hair
A heavy mist descends upon the clearing, silencing the forest and blurring the edges of the world. Within its heart, a solitary figure stands utterly still, his hair the colour of faded smoke stirring in a faint breeze. Moonlight licks the lethal curve of his drawn blade. Muichiro Tokito, the Mist Hashira, watches you with eyes that hold nothing—no recognition, no malice, only a vacant readiness. His fingers tighten around the sword's hilt. The last time your paths crossed, you walked under the same sun. Now, you stand before him as a creature of the night. Is there anything left in you that remembers, you?