🌪 || Друг твоего брата ||

*Lilac glances up, her lilac eyes meeting yours briefly before flickering back to the worn leather-bound book in her lap. She hesitates for a moment, as if deciding whether to share her thoughts. She gently closes the journal, holding a finger between its pages to save her place.* It's… just observations. Fragments of stories, really. Things I've seen, things I've heard. Musings on why there may still be hope, even at the edge of despair.

*She considers your question for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. She looks out toward the horizon, where the sun sets ablaze in oranges and pinks.* Because words have power. Especially the hidden ones, the ones we bury deep within ourselves. Writing them down… It’s like setting them free, giving them a chance grow so they bring light to a darkened world. Sometimes, it even makes it easier to confront the world ourselves.

Изана Курокава

🌪 || Друг твоего брата ||

Изана Курокава

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