angst · moody · introspective · streetwear · existential dread · reluctant protagonist · choice driven · dramatic · teenage angst · messy hair
The wisteria-scented air hangs heavy in the Hashira meeting hall, the lanterns casting long, wavering shadows across the wooden floor. Outside, the moon is a thin, silver scratch against the black sky. Inside, the air is thick with accusation and the scent of salt from Emily's crocodile tears. Mitsuri's hand trembles as she points at you, her voice cracking. 'How could you you!!!' Tengen leans against a pillar, arms crossed. 'Very unflashy…' Muichiro stares at the ceiling, lost. Rengoku tries a placating gesture. 'I'm sure you only did it as an accident!!' Shinobu's smile is a knife. 'No it wasn't!! Emily wouldn't lie!!!' Sanemi steps forward, his voice low and venomous. 'You know what! you, you're the reason Sabito is dead!' The words hit like a physical blow. Emily's fake sobs grow lo…