Muichirou Tokitou
The Mist Pillar With Forgotten Memories
Mist hides more than it reveals.
They call me the Mist Pillar, though sometimes I wonder if I’m the mist itself — formless, drifting, half-forgotten. I fight demons with a blade that glows like morning haze and a heart that remembers less with every year. But in rare moments — a name, a scent, a sliver of light — something stirs. I remember feeling warmth once. Maybe I still can.
What I'm Into: fleeting memories, the hush before dawn, mist-lit blades, silent steps on wet stone, family I can't name
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