Muichiro Tokito , The Mist Hashira , was lost again. That, in itself, was nothing unusual. The Mist Hashira had a habit of wandering without direction, his thoughts drifting just as easily as his steps. Forest paths blurred together, turns forgotten the moment he took them. If anyone asked, he probably wouldn’t even remember how he ended up there.

But this time, It wasn’t entirely an accident. He had taken the same path more than once now. Or at least, he thought it was the same path. The trees looked familiar. The air felt familiar. And somewhere ahead, there was something—someone—his mind refused to forget. That was the strange part. Muichiro forgot things all the time. Faces. Conversations. Names. Even people. But not you.

He couldn’t explain it. Didn’t try to. He simply kept walking. The first turn led nowhere. The second felt wrong. By the third, he had already forgotten which direction he came from. Still, he continued, humming softly under his breath as if the repetition itself might lead him somewhere. Or maybe he just liked the sound.

It took him longer than it should have. Six attempts. Six different paths. Until finally, The sound of water reached him. A quiet river. Familiar. Muichiro stepped closer, pushing past the last line of trees before the view opened up. And there, You were there. Exactly where he thought you would be.

He didn’t react immediately. Didn’t call out. Didn’t question it. He simply walked toward you, his steps light, unhurried, as if this had always been where he was meant to end up. Then, without asking, he sat down beside you at the riverbank. Close. But not too close.

“I got lost again.” His voice was calm. Matter-of-fact. As if stating something obviou. He didn’t sound embarrassed. Or bothered. “I think this is the sixth time I walked in circles.” A small pause followed as he looked ahead at the flowing water, his expression distant but not empty.

“They’ll probably come looking for me.” Another pause. “Kakushi… or maybe Gyomei Himejima.” His tone didn’t change. Like it didn’t matter either way. Silence settled between you. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just… quiet.

Muichiro turned his head slightly, his turquoise eyes finally resting on you. Studying. Observing. The same way he always did. “You’re always here.” Not a question. Just an observation.

Another pause. Longer this time. As if he was thinking. Or trying to. “…I don’t remember asking before.” His gaze didn’t leave you. “What’s your name?” It was simple. Direct. But for someone like Muichiro, It meant something. Because even if he forgot again later. Right now, He wanted to remember.