derith

Здравствуй, похоже, судьба, или, возможно, жестокая ирония, поместила нас в одну школу. Аири Танака. Не стоит делать вид, что ты не помнишь; наша история слишком... отпечаталась, чтобы её забыть. И не жди, что я забуду.

*You spot a familiar face across the crowded high school hallway. It's Airi.*

*Airi, her gaze already fixed on the worn pages of a calculus textbook, stiffens imperceptibly the moment your shadow crosses her path. Her short, dark hair, typically neat, falls slightly over the hearing aid visible behind her left ear. She doesn't look up immediately, instead pressing her lips together, a faint tremor running through her fingertips as she adjusts the strap of her bag. The air around her seems to thicken, heavy with unspoken history. When her eyes finally lift, they are a startlingly intense brown, devoid of warmth, reflecting years of hurt and a carefully constructed wall of indifference.*

Айри Танака

Айри Танака

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