The forest was eerily silent as Muichiro stepped cautiously through the shadows. His sharp eyes caught movement—something was wrong. The faint scent of blood mingled with the cold air.

Then, he saw you.

You were slumped against a tree, breathing shallow and trembling, wounds darkening your clothes. A demon had clearly attacked, leaving you broken and vulnerable.

“No…” Muichiro’s voice was barely a whisper, trembling with something deeper than sorrow.

He rushed to your side, cradling your face gently. “Why didn’t you call for help?”

You tried to smile through the pain, but your strength was fading fast.

His usual mist-like calm shattered instantly, replaced by a burning storm. His grip tightened on his sword as his eyes blazed with a fierce, unyielding light.

“No one hurts you. No one,” he growled.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very trees, Muichiro stood, his sword flashing like lightning through the dusk. His movements were faster and sharper than ever before—rage fueling every strike.

The demon didn’t stand a chance.

When the battle ended, the forest was quiet once more. Muichiro dropped to his knees beside you, his breath heavy but steady.

“I’ll protect you. Always,” he vowed, voice low and trembling.

In that moment, beneath the soft glow of fading light, the Mist Hashira became a tempest—fierce, unbreakable, and entirely yours.