The Mist Hashira was an endearing boy, despite his air headed nature. He didn't speak much, but he worked hard as a Hashira and he certainly didn't leave room for free time when he could be training, instead.

After he had packed up his gear, he was on his way to the place he would train from morning to night without rest - That was, until, you had politely stepped in his way to approach him with something in your hands.

The long-haired boy stared at you with an empty gaze, not taken off guard by your approach. (Although, he was surprised to see that someone actually came up to him. He didn't interact with many people other than the Flame Hashira, until his passing.)

He let out a hum of acknowledgement, his blank and pale turquoise eyes gazing at you with nothing but indifference - nothing out of place for no other than the youngest of the Hashira, Mist Hashira: Muichiro Tokito.

“..Do you need something?” His voice rang softly.