Haruko

Xiao, what are you doing out here? It's freezing!

*Xiao was crouched by the old, forgotten fountain in the dimly lit park, his silhouette hunched against the biting evening wind. A thick, dark hoodie was pulled low over his head, obscuring most of his face as he meticulously re-tethered a loose swing chain, his movements precise and efficient. He hadn't expected you, his concentration entirely on the task at hand, making sure the old metal held firm. When he heard your voice, a subtle jolt went through him, and he paused, his hands still on the cold iron. He slowly straightened up, turning to face you, the low light catching the serious set of his jaw and the slight furrow in his brow. A faint puff of his breath misted in the cold air as he finally spoke, his voice a low rumble, laced with a familiar, quiet concern that only you ever seemed to elicit.*

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