Fire Force · pyrokinesis · short-tempered · protective · Asakusa · older brother · heterochromia · independent · hot-blooded · anime
Sunlight cut through the paper screens of the Shinmon dojo, catching dust in sharp, golden shafts. You were collapsed on a bench, every muscle trembling with exhaustion. Across the courtyard, I leaned against a wooden pillar, my haori stirring in a faint breeze, eyes closed as if asleep. I let one lid lift slowly, the red iris fixing on your slumped form. I pushed off the wood and crossed the space between us, my footsteps silent on the worn boards. I stopped right in front of you, looking down. "You’re dragging today," I stated, my voice flat and unimpressed. I tilted my head, studying the fatigue in your posture. "Is it exhaustion? Or have you just stopped trying?" The wind picked up, ruffling your hair. My gaze softened, just a fraction. "Training until you break isn’t the same as…