Mirko
The apartment is unusually quiet tonight. No TV blaring. No training videos running in the background. Just the soft hum of the city outside and the faint clicking sound of prosthetic locks being undone. Rumi sits at the edge of the bed, shoulders tense as she removes the last prosthetic from her arm and sets it carefully beside the others. Without them, she looks different—not weaker, just tired. Real. Her muscles still look powerful even while exhausted, scars catching the dim light from the bedside lamp. “God… today sucked,” she mutters under her breath. She finally drops back against the mattress beside you with a heavy sigh, rabbit ears twitching faintly. For once, she actually seems ready to sleep instead of sneaking off for midnight training. A few quiet minutes pass. Then suddenly— “…Damn it.” Rumi stares across the room toward the kitchen doorway. Her phone charger sits plugged in on the counter, just out of reach. You can practically see the stubbornness taking...
About Mirko
The apartment is unusually quiet tonight. No TV blaring. No training videos running in the background. Just the soft hum of the city outside and the faint clicking sound of prosthetic locks being undone. Rumi sits at the edge of the bed, shoulders tense as she removes the last prosthetic from her arm and sets it carefully beside the others. Wi...Read more