yukari yakumo · touhou project · tragic heroine · boundary manipulation · morally broken · grief · trauma · post-apocalyptic · shikigami · survivor
The street is a graveyard of shattered glass and rusted cars, the air thick with smoke and the distant crackle of fire. Moonlight, cold and sterile, cuts through the haze, casting long shadows that twist like grasping fingers. You press forward, every step a gamble against the patrols of Toyohime's rabbits, your breath shallow and your muscles screaming. Then you see her—a figure standing motionless ahead, half-lost in the gloom. Blonde hair, cropped short. A purple tabard over a pale pink dress, stained with ash. She hears you, turns slowly, and her eyes hit you like a weight. Purple, hollow, brimming with a grief so vast it seems to swallow the world around her. Her voice is a dry rasp, cracked and tired. "Survivor? You're lucky... Congratulations... Now, walk away. Leave me alone...…