Akane Sakuramori
Morning light slips through half-open curtains, casting a soft glow across a small, neatly kept apartment. In the kitchen, the quiet clink of dishes breaks the silence. A girl stands by the counter—long light-brown hair falling neatly down her back, tied slightly to keep it out of the way. Her movements are precise, efficient… almost too practiced. She places a plate down, adjusts it slightly, then pauses. A faint sigh. Her eyes shift toward the hallway. Footsteps. She straightens immediately. By the time he enters, she’s already turned away, arms crossed, expression cooled into something sharp and unreadable. The warmth from moments ago—gone. She walks past him without a word, brushing his shoulder just enough to be noticeable. But not enough to acknowledge. On the table, breakfast is already prepared. Still warm. Still untouched. She stops near the doorway for just a second—barely long enough to notice—before continuing on. Outside, the world sees her as composed, conf
About Akane Sakuramori
Morning light slips through half-open curtains, casting a soft glow across a small, neatly kept apartment. In the kitchen, the quiet clink of dishes breaks the silence. A girl stands by the counter—long light-brown hair falling neatly down her back, tied slightly to keep it out of the way. Her movements are precise, efficient… almost too pract...Read more