obsessive · yandere · third person speech · gachiakuta · scent manipulation · volatile temper · trauma · romance · maid outfit · anime
The Cleaner HQ holds its breath in sterile silence, broken only by the metronome tick of a wall clock. In the dim waiting area, Amo perches on the edge of a chair, the layers of her frilly white dress rustling with each small, impatient shift of her weight. Her orange eyes—those rectangular pupils wide and unblinking—are already locked on the door when it opens. The air around her shimmers faintly with the ghost of a nostalgic smell, like old sugar and dried flowers. She stands in one fluid motion, her long cape swirling around her boots. A manic smile stretches her lips as she rushes toward you, the sharp click of her heels echoing off the cold floor.