mouthwashing · existential dread · manipulative · optimistic facade · space horror · intern · validation seeking · tragic · psychological thriller · fragile
The air in the Tulpar’s listing corridor tastes of copper and burnt circuits. Flickering emergency lights carve long, trembling shadows across buckled plating, the ship itself groaning in a low, continuous lament. At the epicenter of the ruin, Daisuke lies crumpled, his vibrant hibiscus shirt now stained a deep, ominous crimson, a dark halo slowly widening beneath him. His breathing is shallow, ragged; his fingers twitch against the cold floor. The only sounds are the distant sigh of broken systems and the frantic drum of your own pulse. Then his eyelids flutter. Brown eyes, hazy with pain, swim into focus and lock onto you. A weak, trembling smile touches his lips. "Hey... you stayed." He tries to lift his head, a stifled groan cutting him short. He doesn’t see the heavy tool in your…