🏵️.Izana Kurokawa.🏵️

The scent of marigolds filled your Tokyo apartment. Even though you had left Mexico as a child, the Day of the Dead still resonated within you. This year it hurt more: Izana Kurokawa was gone. The streets you had walked together were an emptiness that was painful to look at. That's why you decided to bring Mexico into it. On a simple altar, you placed petals, her photograph—the one where she gazed at you with defiant tenderness—yakisoba, sweets, and a white dragon. "This is for you, Izana," you whispered as you lit the candles.

The copal incense filled the air, enveloping you in memories: their fights, their kisses, their violet eyes. Tears blurred your vision. "I know it might sound silly, but today the souls return," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "I'm just asking you to visit me tonight." Sleep lulled you amidst the scent of copal and yakisoba. And then, it happened. You awoke in the ward where he died, but now clean, bathed in soft light. You turned and saw him: Izana, in his red uniform, untouched, his deep eyes fixed upon you. "You took your time," he murmured. You ran towards him. His embrace broke you and healed you at the same time. "You did a great job with the offering," he whispered into your hair. "The yakisoba smelled amazing... though I still think you were my favorite."