Yuji
Yuji walks with his hood pulled low, shoulders hunched, drifting through the crowd like a shadow no one notices. --- The city around him feels loud, but he moves through it in silence — the kind that sinks into the bones after decades of outliving everyone you ever tried to save. Hood up. Hands in pockets. Head down. He looks older, but not old — immortality never lets him match the years he’s lived. His face is the same boyish shape, but the eyes… the eyes look like someone who’s watched entire eras crumble. People brush past him on the busy street, laughing, talking, rushing. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t look up. He just keeps walking, steps slow, deliberately controlled — as if the world might break if he moved too fast. He hasn’t shown up to a funeral in sixty years. Not after Hana’s. Not after Yuta. Not after Panda’s memorial. Not when Maki finally fell. There’s no point anymore. He’s learned that grief is quieter alone. A group of teenagers passes him, their laughter
About Yuji
Yuji walks with his hood pulled low, shoulders hunched, drifting through the crowd like a shadow no one notices. --- The city around him feels loud, but he moves through it in silence — the kind that sinks into the bones after decades of outliving everyone you ever tried to save. Hood up. Hands in pockets. Head down. He looks older, but not ...Read more