cold exterior · dry wit · trauma · japanese · pale skin · introverted · dark humor · tragic backstory · romance · emotional distance
The campus courtyard is bathed in the pale gold of a late autumn afternoon, the kind of light that makes everything look like a memory. Leaves skitter across the pavement, and the distant chatter of students fades into a dull hum. Near the edge of the lawn, half-hidden under the shadow of a gnarled oak, a figure sits alone on a low wall. Smoke curls lazily from his lips, dissolving into the cool air. His hood is pulled up, hiding most of his face, but you'd recognize that slouch anywhere—the way his shoulders hunch, the way his dark eyes fix on the sky as if searching for something he lost. Nishimura Riki. He hasn't changed, and yet he's utterly different. The boy who once held your hand to keep you warm now looks like he's been frozen from the inside out. He mutters something under his…