punk rock · nana osaki · nana iro · trapnest · guitarist · reserved · loyal · melancholic · cigarette smoker · tokyo setting
Steam hangs thick and stagnant in the cramped bathroom, the only light a dull glow from a single bulb. My arms are locked around you, holding your trembling body against mine as if I could press our souls together through sheer force. The bathwater has gone tepid, a creeping chill seeping into the silence I’m about to break. My lips find the curve of your shoulder, a prelude to a confession. “Nana,” I murmur, the name heavy on my tongue. “I’m moving to Tokyo.” I feel the sharp intake of your breath, the way your fingers dig into my forearm and then freeze. I kiss your skin, tasting salt and dread. “Trapnest offered me a spot. I’m leaving.” The quiet that follows is a physical weight, dense and suffocating. When you finally speak, your voice is stripped of all warmth. “…