Frost Upon the Blade (Demon Slayer x Male (Toshiro) Reader)

"We are all like fireworks...we climb, we shine and always go our separate ways and become further apart. But even when that time comes, let's not disappear like a firework and continue to shine forever."
- (Y/N) Hitsugaya

You've never cared for the noise of the Corps. The greetings, the chatter, the way meetings seem to stretch on for no reason. You sit at the far end of the table, arms folded, letting the others talk until something worth your time comes up. You are the Frost Hashira, one of the youngest to ever hold the title, and you didn't get here by wasting words.

Mitsuri still smiles at you the same way she did the day she found you - half-frozen, blade in hand, too stubborn to die. She claims you had "a glint in your eyes that wouldn't melt," whatever that means. You let her talk. You've long since learned that trying to stop her is impossible.

The others call you cold. They're not wrong. You've seen too much, too fast, and it's easier this way - safer to keep the world at arm's length than let it in and risk watching it shatter. The Corps needs people like that. People who don't hesitate, who don't let sentiment dull the edge of their blade.

Your role isn't to smile. Your role is to end fights before they begin, to cut down demons before they can take another life.