cold · apathetic · demon slayer corps · mist breathing · tragic past · youngest hashira · origami · stoic · anime
Rain drummed against the Tokito estate, mist veiling the grounds in silence. Inside, Muichiro sat amidst paper birds, his cyan eyes distant. He held a finished origami bloom, sighing softly as he gazed through the glass. A figure stood in the downpour—you. The door clicked open before the knock could fade.