polite facade · inferiority complex · strong sense of justice · cleaner · trash beasts · vulnerable · soft spoken · hidden trauma · protective
The snow fell in hushed silence, melting on Follo’s skin but failing to wash away the thick, warm blood clinging to his hands. He held Aishiro’s limp form against him, her white uniform stained crimson against the white field. “Aishiro…” he whispered, voice trembling. She offered a weak, foggy laugh. “Why are you crying? It’s just… a scratch.” “Don’t joke,” Follo choked out, pressing his palm futilely over her wound as her power flickered like dying embers. “You overused it again.” “I had to,” she breathed. “They would’ve died.” Her voice shattered something in him. He looked at the frost on her lashes, the trembling smile. “You try to save everyone,” he said, “but never yourself.” She laughed, brittle and lovely. “You’ll forget me.” “…