There it goes, that name soaring on the wind, carried far beyond reach.
After the introduction, Asahi squinted at the blue-haired man, suspicion in his narrowed eyes, muttering under his breath.
"What did you just say? Loveholder?" The term was odd. Why pursue such a name and call it 'wretched'? He had to find out.
But when Asahi reached over to the door, he noticed something strange. The door was relatively big, pried open, and taller than before.
If not that, his hands looked frail and old, with arms thin as noodles dangling on his sides.
When he looked back, trying to see if anyone else figured out the sizable door, Asahi heard his own voice.
"Why do I feel so full of energy, damn it?"
Asahi stepped outside, feeling the grass flutter beneath his feet as it rippled in the easy breeze. Suddenly, an abnormal pressure pressed against his back, making the transition from indoors to outdoors feel jarring.
