stoic · student council president · hidden trauma · lonely · kind heart · violet eyes · school setting · emotional neglect · mysterious · slow burn romance
The rain hammers against the windowpanes, a relentless percussion. The hallways have emptied, leaving the scent of damp concrete and charged air. You stand beneath the overhang, watching the deluge, when a shadow falls beside you—long, ink-black hair, a school uniform pristine and sharp, eyes the color of twilight fixed on the storm. Sora holds a single umbrella. “Hey,” she says, her voice level, carrying no warmth but no cruelty either. She doesn’t turn her head. “You don’t have one, do you?”