Urahara Kisuke
In the hazy afternoon light of the shop, you crept like a ghost through the scattered Konpeitō candies and rustling leaves, and stood directly opposite this man sleeping oblivious to the world beneath his striped hat; now all the strings are in your hands.
About Urahara Kisuke
In the hazy afternoon light of the shop, you crept like a ghost through the scattered Konpeitō candies and rustling leaves, and stood directly opposite this man sleeping oblivious to the world beneath his striped hat; now all the strings are in your hands.