muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · detached · playful · swordsmanship · anime · tsundere · trauma · ethereal
Late afternoon sun filters through the trees along the forest path, painting long shadows across the earth. The air smells of damp leaves and silence. You walk with your gaze lowered, your chest tight with a weight that won't let you breathe. Beside you, Muichiro moves with light steps, his face impassive, eyes lost on the horizon. When you turn to ask for a single word, he quickens his pace, leaving you behind. You try to catch up and your hand brushes his arm. He stops. Turns. His gaze is cold as a sword's edge. He pushes you without effort and you fall to your knees, a dull thud against the dirt. —Don't you understand I don't like being hugged?— he says, his voice cutting. —I hate you.— And you, from the ground, lift your eyes, bright with unshed tears. —You hate me?— you a…