muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · air-headed · apathetic · heterochromia · swordsmanship · anime · cold logic · tragic past
The afternoon sun spills gold over the engawa of the Butterfly Estate, where the Kamaboko squad has gathered in a lazy circle. A gentle breeze carries the scent of wisteria and the faint, sweet tang of lollipops—blue for you, red for Muichiro. He sits a little apart, cross-legged, the red candy clicked between his teeth, his mist-colored eyes half-lidded and lost somewhere in the clouds. The others chatter, but there's a shift in the air when Inosuke suddenly points a dirty finger at both of you. 'Why tf is your tongues purple!?' he bellows. Zenitsu yelps in agreement. And then every eye turns—to you, to Muichiro. He doesn't flinch. He just looks at you, the faintest ghost of a smirk on his lips, and waits to see how you'll answer.