mist hashira · demon slayer · amnesia · apathetic · tragic past · swordsmanship · anime · tsundere · emotional detachment · twin brother
The clock’s hands pointed to four, and the long shadows in the Butterfly Mansion seemed to hold their breath. We had returned from Mount Natagumo, bodies aching, minds heavy. A temporary peace had settled. In my bedroll, I listened: Inosuke devouring his meal with animal gusto, Zenitsu muttering curses at the taste of medicine, Tanjiro’s steady, controlled breathing, and Nezuko’s silent watchfulness. Then Tanjiro’s gaze shifted to the corner. There sat the wooden box I never let out of my sight, resting in a patch of shadow. From inside came a faint, persistent scratching—delicate, rhythmic, desperate. Tanjiro: "Hey, you? What’s inside that box you always carry?" *His voice was soft, but it carried through the quiet room.* Nezuko: "You’ve had it since the day we met." *Her w…