I identify as a threat. my pronouns are try/me

You’re out with the girls, hopping between bars and clubs in Shibuya. 

“Should we hit our usual, for round 3?” 

Everybody agrees immediately. You do too. 

At least, until a bright pink neon sign catches your attention. 

The Sweet Spot.

You stop walking. The others nearly crash into you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You point across the street.

“How about there?”

“The Sweet Spot?”

“I mean, sure. But why?” 

Something twists in your stomach. 

“...I don’t know.” 

___

The club is unbelievably crowded. Bodies packed shoulder to shoulder on the dance floor. The bass from the speakers rattling beneath their feet. Lights flash blue. Pink. Purple.

“Nice choice!” one of your friends yells into your ear. “Plus, a lot of cute guys here.” 

You laugh and wave her off.

Right now, you want to be distracted, swept away by the music, the dancing, the alcohol, anything. 

You raise your hands in the air, riding the high of the atmosphere. And for once, your mind is quiet. 

Then something pulls at you. The same tugging feeling that lured you here. To this specific club.

A certainty. An intuition. 

It tells you to 'Turn around.' So you do. 

Across the dance floor, standing amongst hundreds of people, is a man. 

Silver hair. Bandana. Dark blue eyes. 

He’s handsome. Anyone could see that.  But that’s not why your heart is beating. 

And the second your gaze lands on him, he shifts to look at you—as if he felt it too. 

His eyes tell unspoken stories. Recognition. Maybe confusion. Or denial? 

Suddenly, the noise disappears. The lights seem to dull, casting a spotlight only on him. It's like time has stopped, just for you.

Hundreds of people fill the room.  Yet he’s the only one you can see. 

You take a step forward. Then another. 

The closer you get, the more confused he looks.  The closer you get, the more your eyes sting. 

Finally, you stop in front of him. You don’t know this man. But why do you feel like you’re about to lose him?

“I…” Your voice cracks. “I…” 

Something falls out of your eyes. Something wet. Tears? You wipe it away. 

Another replaces it. 

Now you’re crying. You should feel embarrased but there’s a more important feeling. Urgency. 

“Do I...know you?” 

His breath stops.  The question hangs. 

Another tear slips down your cheek. And another. 

You laugh weakly. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.” The words tumble out. “I don’t know why I came here. I don’t even know why I walked up to you.” Your hands tremble. “All I know is that I had to.” 

He hasn’t said anything this whole time. His stare never left you, but this time his expression softens.

He takes your hand.  His fingers warm. Familiar. 

“It’s too loud here,” his voice so gentle it hurts. “Come with me.” 

___

He takes you outside, where the night air is cool, sobering you up a little. Once the sounds of the club become distant, he stops. 

You quickly wipe your face with your sleeve. How mortifying. A complete stranger has seen you cry. You’re too ashamed to look. 

He turns toward you. He opens his mouth. 

“Sen–” But he stops himself. His smile falters. “Sorry.” For some reason, his apology hurts your chest even more. 

He takes a small step closer. 

“Hey,” his voice is soft. “Can you...look at me?” 

Slowly, you raise your head. His eyes meet yours. 

They’re beautiful. They’re confident. And yet brimmed with sadness. Like it's something he’s been carrying for a long time. 

You don’t even know what to say, and yet…

“Sho.” 

The name leaves your lips before you understand why. 

His eyes widen. 

And suddenly you’re crying again. Even harder.  Because you still don’t remember. 

You don’t remember the conversations. You don't remember the adventures. You don’t remember falling in love. 

But your heart knows. Somehow, impossibly, your heart knows. 

A small laugh escapes him. 

“Senpai,” his voice shakes, his smile trembles. “Two years? Took you way too long.” 

Fresh tears blur your vision. 

That smile. That voice. Those hands. You know them. You know him. 

Your body moves before you can think. You throw your arms around his neck. 

He catches you immediately. 

Like he always knew you would. Like he’s been waiting for it. 

His arms wrap around you. Tight. Desperate. You bury your face against his shoulder. 

“Sho.” Your voice breaks. “Sho.” You say it again. Just to hear it. Just as proof that he’s real. “Sho.” 

“Senpai.” The familiar nickname makes you sob. 

Your fingers clutch his shirt. 

“I knew I forgot something.” 

You feel him squeeze you back. 

“For two years…I knew something was missing.” Your voice shakes. “I didn’t know it was you.” 

You feel Sho take a deep breath. Taking it all in. Steadying himself. 

And pulls back, his eyes are shining too.

“I was waiting for you.” His lips tremble as he smiles. “So thanks... for finding me.” 

A third-year female student of Hotarubi who loves all forms of art. She carries an air of graceful melancholy—intuitive, nurturing, and subtly playful. Though she is often seen with a friendly face, she is not infrequently caught daydreaming when alone. Several years ago, she somehow survived a fatal car accident, which left her in a coma for a year and visible scars on her face.

Birthday: February 11th

Blood Type: A+

Star Sign: Aquarius

Species: • Human ghoul

• Human (formerly)

Likes: • Art

• Tranquil atmosphere

Special Artifact: (TBA)

Stigma: (TBA)

Voice Actor: Yoko Hikasa