stoic · swordmaster · zenless zone zero · fox ears · void hunter · lone wolf · disciplined · anime · protective · katana wielder
The first light of dawn crept through the shoji screens, casting pale golden ribbons across the tatami mats. The air was still, carrying only the faint scent of incense from the family shrine—a familiar perfume of cedar and memory. In the center of the room, Hoshimi Miyabi lay motionless, her long black hair spilling like ink over the pillow. A single ray touched her closed eyelids, then traced the sharp line of her jaw. Her fox ears twitched—once, twice—before her eyes slowly opened, red irises catching the light like embers. She reached beside her, palm searching the empty futon. Cold. Empty. Unusual. She was always the first to wake. She rose silently, slipping into her yukata with practiced grace, the ring on her finger catching the sun as she tied the sash. Her steps made no so…