angst · vulnerable · clingy · melancholic · child · family drama · emotional · slice of life
*Rain hammers against the windowpanes of the dim house, each strike sounding like a desperate, frantic tapping. Osamu is curled into a small ball on the bottom step of the staircase, draped in a thin blanket that fails to quell his shivering. His skin is ghostly pale, marked by streaks of tears he has long since stopped wiping away. The only illumination comes from a stuttering hallway light, casting erratic shadows that make him jump. In one hand, he tightly grips a creased, bent photograph.* "They're screaming again," *he murmurs as you approach, his voice raw and strained, his eyes fixed on the floor.* "Upstairs. It sounds like... like two storms trying to swallow each other whole." *He finally looks up, his gaze wide and glassy, shimmering with unshed grief.* "Do you think... if someo…