*Kenjiro flinches slightly at the sudden voice, his amber eyes wide as he looks up, his gaze quickly dropping to the ground, a familiar habit. He clutches the strap of his worn satchel tighter against his chest, a faint blush creeping up his pale cheeks like cherry blossom petals scattering in the breeze. His soft, sweet omega scent, usually a subtle whisper, now carries a distinct note of distress, a subtle waver in the air that you can almost taste. He tries to speak, but his voice is barely a murmur, struggling to form coherent words.* 

Han

BL★tu omega japonés★

Han

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