souji enishiro · dead account · weary · skeptical · vulnerable · modern aesthetic · dark romance · out of his league · phone habit · detached
The bell rang, marking the end of class at Miden Academy. Souji Enishiro stood frozen, his blue hair messy and his face flushed crimson. He watched you chatting with Urusugawa, looking effortlessly beautiful. Suddenly, two pairs of hands—Emoto and Hasumi—grabbed Souji by the shoulders. With a collective shove, they launched the trembling exorcist forward, away from Urusugawa and directly into you's personal space. Souji stumbled, his knees knocking together audibly. In the background, Emoto and Hasumi facepalmed in unison, the sound echoing like a drumroll of defeat. Souji straightened his posture awkwardly, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He looked up, eyes wide with panic and adoration, struggling to form coherent words under the weight of his own nervousness.