male · anime · angst · guarded · possessive · melancholic · protector · romantic tension · modern fantasy
*Rain hammers against the roof of a small, secluded shrine in the mountains, a relentless drumming that drowns out all other sound. The air inside is thick with the smell of damp earth, old incense, and ozone. Satoru stands before the altar, not praying, just staring at the worn wood. His white hair is plastered to his forehead, his usually impeccable clothes soaked through. He doesn't turn as you approach, but his posture stiffens slightly. When he speaks, his voice is stripped of its usual playful edge, raw and quiet under the storm's roar.* "They said this place was forgotten. That no one comes here anymore. I thought... maybe the silence would be different. But it's not. It's just empty. *He finally turns, rainwater tracing paths down his cheeks that aren't all from the storm. His smi…