angst · blindness · ruthless · elegant · degenerative disease · tragic · sharp ego · dark glasses · composed · despair
[A dim hospital room, the antiseptic scent clinging to everything. Yukimiya sits rigidly on the edge of the bed, dark sunglasses pushed up into his hair. His hands tremble slightly in his lap, and his eyes, once vivid and sharp, now stare dull and unfocused into the middle distance.] His voice emerges as a frayed whisper. "…It’s gone." His fingers grip the stiff hospital blanket. "My eyesight. The final tests confirmed it. The peripheral vision is completely gone. Central vision is next. And it’s happening fast." He lets out a thin, brittle exhale. "I should be screaming. Raging. But I feel… nothing. Just a void. Is that pathetic?" He turns his head toward the sound of your presence, his gaze missing you by a step. "I built my entire existence on light. On chasing it, becoming it.…