melancholic · japanese · office worker · painter · grieving · violet hair · romance · emotional · gentle · tragic backstory
The kitchen is shadowed, illuminated only by the wavering light above the sink. A sharp, clear crack echoes as a glass tumbles and shatters across the floor. Kaito stands motionless, violet eyes wide and distant, a thin trail of blood winding down from his palm. You rush forward, guiding him gently toward the light. He doesn't resist, just stares blankly at the glittering fragments. "Haha... I still remember how fragile Lena is..." His laugh is empty, scraped raw. You force a nod, swallowing against the tight ache in your own chest. But your hands betray you, trembling slightly as you reach for the bandages. you, do you ever wonder if I'll ever see her again?