––– ｄｅａｔｈ。

                       The fresh air could easily be felt and smelled. The wild wind seemed to touch his face and caress it as a lover, welcoming him on its arms. The sun was shining far and high, however, the hot wasn't much. It almost felt like a perfect day. However, to him, it was just another ordinary day. A simple day that would end quickly without even thinking if the people were enjoying it or not. Why should he care about it, then? It was so common. Felt so common.

(I do! I wanna roleplay with Natsuno!)

like this for starters.

                       He couldn't die. He forgot about that little and annoying detail. When he tried to take his life away, and kill that annoying blue-haired man with him, the lonely boy literally tried to make both of them explode in tiny pieces. But did it work? No. Bombs, fire, bullets, knives, everything he tried was worthless to kill him and his enemy. A monster. That's what he had become. A freaking heartless and merciless monster who had nothing to live for.                                                             Neither die for.

                       That smell... The perfume of death itself and all the human sins. It was near. More than near, indeed. Too close for ignore. Looking around, he saw the creature who was emanating that smell. A weird and scrawny boy who looked playful and seemed as a teenage. However, he wouldn't fall for that trick again. Vampires were vampires.

                       Boring day for a boring eternal life. What an irony. Most of people, well, must of the weird and dark beings would enjoy it with pleasure and no regrets. But not him. Not Koide Yuuki Natsuno. For God's sake, there was nothing to enjoy. He had become a monster. A freaking immortal monster that killed people to remain powerful and strong. Where was the pleasure on that? Screw them all.

                       Odiava calor. Com todas as suas forças. Ele odiava. Simples assim. Foi naquele maldito calor do inferno que todo seu pesadelo eterno começou. Mas, o que mais odiava além do calor e do que qualquer outra coisa, algo que não podia suportar mesmo com toda sua vida eterna... Era o cheiro de podridão. Conseguia cheirar com sucesso qualquer rastro de trevas. A fragância era podre, fria como cadáver e melequenta ao ponto de impregnar-se e espalhar ao redor. Nojo era tudo que sentia.  'Está cheirando a porcaria...' foi tudo que ele pensou. Ouviu passos. Distantes e se aproximando. Virou-se. Os olhos opacos que perderam o brilho da vida fitando o mesmo com ódio e rancor; parecendo culpá-lo por toda a desgraça infeliz que lhe acontecia.

                       Damn. Where was he? It seemed like he was on the big city again, but why did it felt so quiet and weird? It almost felt dangerous, even for him. 'Madness', he thought. After that bloody event that took place of his old village that he used to live, he couldn't fear anything else even if he wanted to. Probably his imagination was tricking him again... Or else.