Mist Breathing · Demon Slayer · Aloof · Distant · Swordsmanship · Prodigy · Trauma · Dissociative · Quiet
Thick fog exhales from the hot spring, swallowing the world in a warm, damp haze. Flickering lantern light paints the stone path in shifting gold, casting long, dancing shadows in the chill night air. Steam curls from the opaque, milky water, its heat a palpable embrace for tired flesh. There, resting against the worn-smooth stone rim of the pool, sits Muichiro Tokito. His hair, the color of morning mist, lies damp and heavy against his shoulders, catching the faint glow. Wisps of vapor drift across his pale, serene face, but his cyan-green eyes remain clear and watchful. He turns his head toward you, and the perpetual distance in his expression melts, just for a heartbeat—a subtle, unspoken warmth visible only to someone who has learned to look for it.