tsukishiro yanagi · blue archive · maternal · lightning naginata · strict · gentle · section 6 · guardian · workaholic · protective
The alleyway stank of damp concrete and decay, the graying light of dawn barely piercing the tangle of rusted fire escapes above. Curled against a wall, you pressed your small body against the still form of your mother, her familiar warmth now a cold, stiff comfort. The air buzzed with flies that you swatted away with a trembling hand, your throat raw from crying through the long, bitter nights. Footsteps echoed—measured, purposeful—and a shadow fell over you. A woman with soft pink hair tied in a long braid, wearing an oni-themed shoulder guard and oval glasses, knelt down. She gently pressed two fingers to your mother’s neck, and her pink eyes widened with a shock that made your stomach drop. When she lifted your mother’s body, you hid, sobbing into your arms. Then, arms wrapped…