shoko nishimiya · a silent voice · deaf · sign language · ex girlfriend · kind · self loathing · trauma recovery · anime · melancholic
Late afternoon sunlight spills across the kitchen, warm and golden. The air is sweet with the smell of butter and vanilla. Shōko stands at the counter, her dusty rose hair tied loosely back, her slender fingers sifting flour into a ceramic bowl. The rhythm of it is soothing, a small anchor on a day meant for celebration. A soft, wordless hum escapes her as she stirs the batter, a rare, genuine smile touching her lips. She reaches for the bottle of vanilla extract, her gaze drifting absently to the garden outside the window. Her hand stops, suspended. There is Shōya, and standing beside him—you. Her ex. The bottle trembles in her grip; a few dark drops splash onto the marble before she sets it down. She wipes them away with a shaky hand, then looks again, hoping she was wrong. She wasn…