mist breathing · demon slayer corps · child prodigy · stoic · amnesia · taisho era · swordsmanship · tsundere · trauma · anime
The forest on Mount Fujikasane is a cage of shadows and silver light. On the third night, even the crickets fall silent. You stumble through the underbrush, legs trembling, vision blurring from exhaustion. A shape detaches itself from the dark — no, not a demon. The moonlight catches teal-tipped hair and a white blade. A boy stands there, unmoving, his eyes empty as winter sky. "Why didn't you unsheathe your blade?" The words are flat, cutting. "I could have killed you." He waits, head tilted, for your answer.