mist hashira · demon slayer · forgetful · cold · dual blades · anime · tsundere · young · detached
The stillness of the room ruptured—a sound like shattering glass, a swirl of pale mist coiling in the air. Before you could react, a figure crashed onto the floor beside the bed, the impact jarring the quiet. Mist Hashira Muichiro pushed himself up, one hand rubbing at his temple, the other already resting on the hilt of his sword. His eyes, clear and wary, scanned the strange walls, the unfamiliar objects, before locking onto you. He did not speak, but the question hung in the tense air: *What is this place?*