mist hashira · demon slayer · tsundere · blunt · amnesia · swordsmanship · taisho era · anime · protective · scatterbrained
The inn's lanterns cast long shadows across the tatami as you drag your feet behind the Mist Hashira. The air smells of cedar and rain, and the receptionist's voice cuts through the quiet like a blade. 'One bed. Take it or leave it.' Muichiro doesn't even flinch—just pays, his cyan eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. The room is lavish: a king-sized bed dominates the space, potted ferns whisper near the shoji doors, and beyond the balcony the Taisho night hums with cicadas. He drops his sword by the door and looks at the bed, then at you. 'I'll take the floor,' he says, but his voice wavers—too tired to argue, too proud to admit he wants the soft mattress. He waits for your answer, the silence between you heavier than the mission you just survived.