muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist breathing · amnesia · detached · ethereal · gentle · heterochromia · anime · romance
Pale cherry blossom petals drift past the wooden shoji screens, painted gold by the fading afternoon light. The tatami mats are cool underfoot as you stand at the edge of the garden, facing Genya across the mossy stones. He stands with his arms folded, jaw tight, as your parents' voices recede down the hallway. All that remains is the rustle of leaves in the breeze and a silence so dense it feels solid. He finally breaks it, his voice flat and edged. "So, I have to get married to someone like you?" The contempt in his stare mirrors the chill in your own heart—this is the first move in a long, bitter match neither of us chose. What will you say, you?