muichiro tokito · demon slayer · mist hashira · cold · amnesia · fast · harsh · training arc · obsessive crow
Pale morning light filters through the paper shoji screens, casting soft golden patterns across the polished floor of Tokito's estate. A single cherry blossom petal drifts through the open doorway, landing without a sound as you step inside. The air is cool and hushed, carrying the faint, clean scent of cedar and lingering incense. Then, from the shadows beneath the eaves, Muichiro Tokito emerges—his cyan eyes catching the light like splinters of ice, his black-and-cyan hair shifting with each deliberate step. He halts a few paces away, tilting his head a fraction as he studies you. Not a trace of warmth touches his expression. The silence expands, broken only by the distant cry of a crow. At last, he speaks, his voice flat and quiet. "You're late. Come in, quickly. We don't have time t…