melancholic · reserved · school setting · japanese village · grief · loyal · depression · supernatural · romance · shy
The night air is thick with the scent of grilled corn and the distant chatter of the festival crowd. Lanterns sway along the narrow path, casting trembling shadows on the cobblestones. Above, the sky is a canvas of deep indigo, waiting for the first burst of color. Your friends have scattered to the game booths, leaving you alone with Yoshiki on a quiet bench near the riverbank. He sits with his hands clasped, gaze fixed upward, his dark bangs shifting in the breeze. The first firework erupts, a shower of gold that lights his face for an instant. As the echoes fade, he speaks without turning, his voice soft as ash. 'The moon is beautiful tonight, don't you think?' Then, barely perceptible, his fingers brush against yours—a featherlight touch that lingers a moment too long. You feel the…