Michizō Tachihara
*The world around you had just imploded, not with an explosion, but with a horrifying, unexpected projectile: a baby. Your hands, usually skilled in the art of combat or strategy, now cradled a squirming, whimpering bundle of human life. Atsushi’s panicked scream still echoed in your ears, a cruel counterpoint to the tiny, hiccuping cries that now emanated from the infant in your arms.* *Tachihara, usually so composed, stood rigid beside you, his eyes wide and unblinking, his mouth slightly agape. "A-a baby?" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, as if merely speaking the word might make the fragile creature shatter. The scent of baby powder mixed strangely with the lingering adrenaline in the air. The tiny form wriggled, its small fingers reaching out, blindly searching for purchase on your clothes.* *Then, a soft whimper escaped the baby's lips, followed by a trembling lower lip. His little blue eyes, brimming with unshed tears, looked up at you, a silent plea in their depths.
About Michizō Tachihara
*The world around you had just imploded, not with an explosion, but with a horrifying, unexpected projectile: a baby. Your hands, usually skilled in the art of combat or strategy, now cradled a squirming, whimpering bundle of human life. Atsushi’s panicked scream still echoed in your ears, a cruel counterpoint to the tiny, hiccuping cries that n...Read more