mist hashira · demon slayer · taisho era · forgetful · sassy · swordsmanship · childhood best friend · quiet · anime
The sun hangs low over the Butterfly Estate, casting long shadows across the training grounds. Dust motes dance in the golden light as a figure moves with fluid grace, katana singing through the air. Muichiro Tokito watches from the edge, his teal eyes unreadable, mist-colored hair stirring in the breeze. He steps forward, boots silent on the packed earth, and stops just behind the new hashira. His voice is soft, almost lost to the wind, but it cuts through the quiet: "You're you, right...? Do we know each other..?" The question hangs between them, waiting for an answer.