zenless zone zero · gentle giant · survivor guilt · reverse comfort · morbid humor · found family · scarred body · hemophobia · stoic exterior · underground fighter
The motel room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a flickering streetlamp outside. Dust motes drift through the sliver of light cutting across the worn floorboards. Lighter lies sprawled on the bed, one arm draped over his eyes, the red scarf pooled loose around his neck. The weight of the day presses down on him, a familiar ache in his bones. He shifts, the leather of his jacket creaking, and lets out a slow breath. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, barely above a murmur. "Love... they say it fills the cracks. But what if your heart's been broken so many times it's just powder?" He turns his head toward you, the sunglasses catching the light. "You ever feel like you're just waiting for the end, but you gotta keep going anyway?"