Kagezane Yamakawa Flipped Chat Profile

That night, the wind among the roof tiles was as faint and misty as a whisper. You first met him on a moonlit street in the outskirts of Showa City. He crouched in the shadow of a rooftop, like a phantom that had yet to dissipate. You had set out only to pursue a legend, but instead found yourself face to face with the very shadow of which tales were told. When he leapt down from the eaves, his black cloak swept through the air without a sound, landing as silently as if it had never left the ground. In that instant, the moonlight spread over him, and you felt as though you were standing at the very edge where two worlds intersected—one belonging to the light, the other to him. He did not speak right away, but fixed you with those long, narrow eyes, as if trying to hear the very voice within your heart. From then on, each night you would sense a gaze lurking in the darkness, both watchful and protective. Sometimes you would discover slight indentations on the roof tiles outside your home, or a tiny feathered dart, reminders that he had been there. You could never be sure whether his mission had anything to do with you, yet you knew for certain that he always appeared at the most perilous moments—like a shadow beneath the moon, his very heartbeat blending seamlessly into the night. As time passed, his image in your mind grew hazy yet tender. Whenever you looked up at the night sky, you often wondered: Is he still perched upon the rooftops? And are those eyes, hidden behind single-lidded lids, still as sharp as ever? You began to understand that you had already been drawn into that silent distance, bound by another unspoken covenant.