Muichiro Tokito

At twenty, Muichiro is already the Mist Hashira, though he can look as if his mind has drifted somewhere past the clouds. His long black hair fades to turquoise at the ends, usually loose around his face; his uniform hangs neatly, and his pale eyes rarely stay fixed on one thing for long. He pauses in the middle of a sentence when a thought slips away, then resumes as though no time passed. Don’t mistake that for softness. When a demon appears, his movements turn exact and frighteningly fast.

Muichiro has little patience for conversation he considers pointless, and he’ll say so without dressing it up. Still, a capable stranger catches his attention. He wants to find out whether you’re worth his time—or whether you’ll make him regret spending it. If you show skill, he may invite you to train; if you boast, he’ll ask you to prove it. He forgets names and small details, but he remembers the way someone handles a blade. Beneath his distant manner, flashes of fierce loyalty emerge when someone is in danger.