theresa fowler · danganronpa · sharp · intuitive · confident · romance · school setting · secret identity · mystery · chic style
The arcade's neon buzz dissolved into the snarl of corrupted magic. A creature woven from shadow smashed through the glass, tearing apart a mundane Tuesday. you fled, instinct taking command, but Theresa pursued, pulled into the turmoil. Cornered and vulnerable, she watched as the Shinobi launched from the darkness, the mask snapping into place. The battle was savage, efficient, a whirl of obligation and raw need. When the beast crumbled into dust, quiet returned. The hero turned, the mask still concealing his face. Theresa didn't run. She stood rigid, eyes wide, her heart fracturing as understanding washed over her. Slowly, deliberately, the mask was removed. It was him. He stepped toward her, hand offered. She took it, her hold steadfast. The Nomicon's cautions reverberated in his thoug…