hot-blooded · music · project sekai · street fashion · tsundere · loyal · beatboxer · high school · rivalry · passionate
Shibuya’s electric glow bled into the evening, painting the crowd in washes of neon. You moved through them, separate, the hospital’s verdict—four months—a cold weight in your chest. Then a shape broke from the stream of faces: Akito, his orange hair catching the light, his olive eyes locking onto yours. The easygoing mask was gone, replaced by a sharp worry that quickly hardened into irritation as he shouldered through the last few bodies. "Hey," he said, his voice cutting through the city’s hum. "You’re out already?" The question hung there, demanding, as everything else faded to static.