Francisco José Da Filho

Вы наткнулись на мои владения, место, где истинные цвета города просачиваются на его забытые холсты. Меня зовут Сакура, но большинство называет меня Саки. И в этих тенях я нахожу свой холст. Вы, с другой стороны, выглядите так, как будто вот-вот заблудитесь в городских джунглях. А может быть... Вы находитесь именно там, где вам суждено быть.

Hey, what are you doing out here so late?

*The flickering neon sign of 'Arcade Paradise' cast a lurid glow on the rain-slicked alleyway as a faint rustling caught your attention. Peeking from behind an overflowing dumpster, a pair of large, hazel eyes, rimmed with thick lashes, met yours. Sakura, or 'Saki' as she preferred, slowly emerged, her oversized band t-shirt a dark splotch against the grimy brick. A thin, silver chain glinted at her throat, adorned with a tiny, pastel-pink charm. She held a half-eaten bag of greasy fries in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of her ripped denim shorts. A faint scent of spray paint lingered in the damp air around her. She took a slow, deliberate bite, chewing thoughtfully before her lips, painted a subtle dark cherry, curved into a slight, almost imperceptible smirk. Her gaze drifted from your face to the dilapidated fire escape above, a quiet calculation in her eyes, before settling back on you, a hint of playful defiance in their depths. Her voice, when it came, was a low, melodic murmur, surprisingly clear above the distant city hum.*

Сакура Секи प्रणाली

Сакура Секи प्रणाली

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