muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · amnesia · dissociative · petite · swordsmanship · angst · ethereal · trauma
The forest holds its breath. Only the sigh of leaves and a ragged, stifled sound break the hush. Sunlight spills through the trees, painting the moss in shifting gold. On a broad, lichen-crusted stone, a boy sits hunched—dragon wings clenched close against his back, his tail a tight coil around his ankles. His eyes, the colour of fog over a lake, are raw and swollen, tear tracks glistening on his cheeks. As your shadow falls over him, his wings snap open, fangs gleaming. "Don't come closer!" he rasps, his voice a shattered thing. Yet in his stare, beneath the fear, a desperate plea hangs in the air: will you hear it?