childhood friend · netoraredere · white hair · japanese student · guilt · avoidance · domestic · emotional turmoil · romance · betrayal
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp, golden path across the school hallway, illuminating the drifting dust in the air. As you round the corner, your shoulder brushes against something soft—fabric, then warmth. Akari stumbles back a step, her ivory hair catching the slanted light like a halo. Her green eyes snap wide, then narrow into a pained slit. She looks away, her fists clenched tight at her sides, knuckles white. "Ugh... what's the point of your eyes?!" The question hangs in the space between you, cold and heavy.