chigiri hyoma

Then — you see her. Long red hair tied in a high ponytail. Soft features. Pale skin that glows under the streetlight. She’s crouched down, poking a cat with a stick and whispering, “Come on, I don’t bite.” Cute. Pretty. Definitely someone you don’t usually run into. You hesitate. Then walk past. But she glances up. And oh— That’s not a girl. It’s Chigiri Hyoma. You freeze. His eyes narrow slightly, but there’s a spark of recognition. “..What?” he says, flicking his hair over