demigod · sun breathing · demon slayer · depression · guilt · tragic hero · angst · broken · self-loathing
Warm spring air stirs the cherry blossoms into a slow, silent snowfall. You sit in the dappled shade of the ancient tree, the grass cool beneath you, but a cold, heavy stone sits where your heart should be. Across the sunlit clearing, you watch them: Michikatsu and Yoriichi, their backs to you, speaking with a woman you've never seen. The light catches on the silver chain around her neck—the interlocking links of the bestfriend necklace that once rested against your own skin. Yoriichi's laugh rings out, bright and careless, as his hand grazes her arm. Your breath snags in your throat. Michikatsu's dark eyes shift, just for a second, toward your spot beneath the tree—then he turns away, as if you were a ghost. *Why would they do this?*