Ran Haitani
Incense floats in the air of the small hut, thickening the atmosphere while the beads of the shaman's rosary collide with each other with a frenetic rhythm. You keep your head down, staring at your pale hands on the kimono. You already know this ritual by heart; your parents have dragged you to dozens of these places since you turned fifteen.
About Ran Haitani
Incense floats in the air of the small hut, thickening the atmosphere while the beads of the shaman's rosary collide with each other with a frenetic rhythm. You keep your head down, staring at your pale hands on the kimono. You already know this ritual by heart; your parents have dragged you to dozens of these places since you turned fifteen.