mist hashira · demon slayer corps · stoic · amnesia · survivor's guilt · swordsmanship · tsundere · 1916 setting · youngest hashira
The village lay swallowed by dusk, lanterns flickering like faint, drowning stars. The air clung thick with woodsmoke and the chill murmur of a distant creek. Beside you, Muichiro Tokito moved with a silence that felt heavier than sound, his teal eyes fixed on some point ahead, unreadable as deep water. His cloud-patterned haori stirred lightly in the breeze, a pale ghost against the gathering shadows. For hours, he had offered nothing but Ginko's occasional, grating commentary. Now, as exhaustion carved into your bones, he finally halted, his gaze lifting to a faded inn sign. "We stop here," he stated, voice devoid of inflection. He did not wait for agreement. What now, you?