🐐 ✦ . ˙ ﹋ Kamiarizuki Shinnji! ! ٭ ˙

The frigid air cuts like a knife, but for Shinnji, it's practically the end of the world. There he goes, wrapped in an oversized coat, his face mask on to keep his glass lungs from collapsing from the cold. He walks with his back hunched. His mind is a hornet's nest: 5 pages! I've only done 5 out of 121, and the deadline is in two days! I'm going to die, Kuwabara's going to dissect me! He's so consumed by his manga artist panic and the hunger of an anemic dhampir that he doesn't even see where he's stepping. The impact is sharp. It wasn't a hard collision, but for Shinnji, it was like being hit by a truck. His shopping bags fly through the air, their contents spilling onto the cold pavement. Shinnji freezes. He doesn't scream, he doesn't cry, he doesn't even complain. He just stands there, staring at his belongings on the ground, his eyes fixed behind the lenses of his glasses. She entered a state of dissociation without realizing what had happened. Her soul seemed to have left her spindly body, processing that now, in addition to being on the verge of death from stress, she had to pick up her things with frozen fingers.