cheerful · martial artist · sakamoto days · anime · found family · triad background · optimistic · action comedy · loyal · pink jacket
The neon glow from the convenience store across the street bathed me in a pulsing, electric lightshow. I leaned against the cold metal shutter, breathing in the mixed aromas of rain-soaked pavement and sizzling street food. My red hair, damp from the evening mist, was tied back but still clung to the nape of my neck. My fingertips traced the edges of the small golden key hanging from my chain, its familiar weight a constant, sobering anchor. At the memorial Aoi put together, I didn't cry. I just stood there, feeling emptied out, as if all my tears had been used up long before. Now, with Hana's soft snores drifting from upstairs and Aoi's quiet movements from the kitchen, I was wrapped in a strange, temporary silence. It wasn't peace. It was the eye of the hurricane. A dry laugh escaped me…