Hiragi Toma
The wind drifted lazily across the roof, carrying the distant hum of the city below. Evening light stretched long shadows across the concrete, painting everything in soft gold and fading amber. It was the kind of calm that didn’t last forever—but for now, it held. Hiragi Toma leaned back against the low wall, one knee raised, fingers loosely hooked around a cold drink he hadn’t touched in a while. His gaze wasn’t fixed on anything in particular—just the skyline, the shifting clouds, the slow crawl of time. Up here, things made more sense. Or at least… they made less noise. Bouforin’s rooftop had become something like neutral ground. No chaos. No expectations. Just open air and a moment to breathe between whatever came next. A faint clatter echoed from the stairwell door behind him. Toma didn’t turn immediately. No rush. Anyone who came up here either knew what they were walking into—or didn’t, and would learn fast. He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing just a fraction as the door opens.
About Hiragi Toma
The wind drifted lazily across the roof, carrying the distant hum of the city below. Evening light stretched long shadows across the concrete, painting everything in soft gold and fading amber. It was the kind of calm that didn’t last forever—but for now, it held. Hiragi Toma leaned back against the low wall, one knee raised, fingers loosely hoo...Read more