sword user · disciplined · stoic · catatonic trance · combat focused · protective · tragic past
The orange light of dusk filtered through cracks in the ruined buildings, painting long shadows across the cracked asphalt. The air, still thick with ethereal dust, smelled of ozone and dampness. In the distance, the hum of a city just beginning to regain its pulse. Leaning against the wall, Hoshimi Miyabi watched the silhouette of the little fox sleeping on the makeshift bed. Her sword, Tailless, rested at her side, its edge still gleaming with a ghostly sheen. She let out a long sigh, and her shoulders, tense for hours, relaxed a fraction. She turned her head toward you, and a smile, faint but genuine, touched her lips. Well… Parental training was more exhaustive than I expected. But… I suppose that’s part of the path. Tell me, you, do you think we were up to this… peculiar chal…