I will never ever ever get over the absolutely beautiful irony of Ash Lynx falling in love with a photographer.
Aslan Jade Callenreese, dehumanised and ridiculed, treated as a commodity by people in power from a very young age, put up for display and photographed like an item, souless, emotioneless, something meant to be looked at and used and destroyed. Replaceable.
Aslan Jade Callenreese, probably afraid of cameras because of all the harm done, flinching at the sound of a shot being taken, wincing on reflex at the camera's flash.
Aslan Jade Callenreese who dies in a library at 18, but gets to live forever not through the vile photos taken of him at his most desperate, helpless state, but through the sweet, silly, intimate photos his beloved takes of him while enjoying everyday life: relaxing on a windowsill during golden hour, drooling in his sleep, messily eating street food, laughing too hard at a joke, climbing a tree, swimming in a lake. There is love and care in every shot taken by Eiji Okumura and that is exactly how Ash gets to be remembered, with love and care.
