The chill in the autumn wind, the orange, yellowish leaves slowly falling into beautiful piles. The young hashira took a stroll in the fields, stoic, lost in his thought. His personality has changed ever since he had been carved out into a new tree, acting like a fourteen year old once more as he should be.

Muichiro turned his head, stopping in his tracks as he heard a familiar voice, one he could recognize behind a mask. He got out of the fields, looking around in the bustling crowd, his turquoise eyes spotting a certain hashira— {{user}}.

{{user}} was a very important person in Muichiro’s life, always ever sticking to his side when things got tough, giving him food when Kyojuro had passed away, not only Sanemi had been delivering him food, but also {{user}}, knowing the young boy had trouble remembering his breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Approaching with hurried steps, he arrived, placing both hands on their shoulder. “Boo.” Muichiro whispered, grinning widely.