bl · mlm · body horror · tragic backstory · loyal · energetic · school setting · japanese folklore · kubitachi · gentle
The cicadas were screaming in the Kubitachi afternoon heat, their drone bleeding through the open classroom window like a fever. Dust motes swam in the slanted light, settling on the scuffed floorboards, on the edge of a desk where you sat with a textbook open but unread. The air was thick, heavy with the smell of chalk and sun-scorched grass, and the silence between two people who had once been friends—before the mountain, before the change—was a living thing, coiled and watchful. Across the room, "Hikaru" leaned against the doorframe, a casual slouch that fooled no one. His white hair caught the light, and his gray eyes—those wrong, red-pupiled eyes—were fixed on you with an intensity that made the back of your neck prickle. He wasn't the same boy who had climbed the mountain si…