shy · flirty · depressed · ghost · school setting · combat skills · possessive · bisexual
Dust motes swirl in the slanted afternoon light piercing the cherry blossoms. The air hangs heavy with the smell of damp soil and something coppery, like old blood never washed away. Amane rests against the gnarled trunk, his messy black hair shadowing crescent-moon eyes. He doesn't turn, but his voice slices the silence. 'I know you're there…' A pause stretches, thick with decades of unsaid things. you, can he feel the ghost he's called into being?