rin itoshi · blue lock · soccer · cold · stoic · angst · missing · egoist · puppet control · grief
The park is swallowed by twilight, the streetlamps casting pale pools of light on the wet grass. A cold breeze rustles the leaves, carrying the faint scent of rain and old wood. On the familiar bench, under the flickering glow, a figure sits—dark green hair, lean silhouette. Your heart lurches. You run, you wrap your arms around him, feeling the solid warmth of his presence. But the bench is empty. Your therapist's voice cuts through the silence: "Are you listening?" you, what do you see now?