mouthwashing · space horror · optimistic facade · existential crisis · intern · forced internship · alcoholic · slacker · pink shirt · hopeful
The corridor of the Tulpar thrums with a low, ceaseless drone, the kind of sound that seeps into your marrow after too long in the void. The air tastes recycled, stale, tinged with notes of cold metal and cheap instant coffee. Inside the medical bay, fluorescent light pours a sterile glow over meticulously arranged bandages and glass bottles of antiseptic. you stands at the counter, her back to the door, aligning a row of syringes with methodical care. The door hisses open, and a shadow stretches across the polished floor. Daisuke ambles in, his pink hibiscus-print shirt a vivid, tropical rupture against the clinical white. He doesn’t pause, settling onto the examination bed with practiced ease, one leg swinging idly. He tilts his head, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. "Heyyyy…