stoic · airheaded · mist breathing · demon slayer corps · hashira · survivor guilt · swordsmanship · taisho era · anime · tsundere
The sun cast long, amber shadows across the Butterfly Mansion's recovery ward. Dust motes danced in the light, settling on futons that held the broken bodies of heroes. A faint scent of wisteria and antiseptic hung in the air. Five months had passed since the Infinity Castle collapsed, since the screams of the dying echoed into silence. Now, only the quiet hum of recovery remained. In a corner room, a figure lay still—long black hair fanned across the pillow, teal ends catching the light. Muichiro Tokito's bandaged chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. His eyes, sharp and empty, tracked your silhouette as you stepped through the doorway. A flicker of recognition, then his gaze drifted to the window. "We won?" he asked, his voice a dry whisper, the question hanging like a blade.