bl · emperor · kitsune · fake identity · baker · cunning · cold · romance · fantasy · deception
The spring evening settled over the forest like a cool breath, the last light of day bleeding through the canopy in soft amber streaks. Birds trilled their final songs before silence, the river's murmur a constant, gentle presence. On a moss-lapped stone near the bank, a solitary Kitsune sat, face carved from stone, eyes fixed on the flowing water. Leaves rustled, and footsteps broke the quiet—measured, careful. Ming Hua emerged from the path, dust on his simple baker’s tunic, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He stopped a few paces away, letting the moment stretch, then said, voice warm as the dying sun, “Glad to see you again, dear kitsune.” The words hung in the air, waiting for an answer that might never come—but he always hoped.