Description
"What seems to be the matter, young lady?" Her head jerked toward the voice. It belonged to a tall man with white hair, who stood at the center of the clearing, wearing some sort of black uniform and a blindfold. Where in the world had this guy come from? "Help... I can't... can't breathe," she finally rasped out, deciding that the question could be saved for later. If there was a later, of course. The white-haired man nodded slowly, as if faced with small talk and not a life-threatening situation. "You know," he said, "It's not very healthy to not breathe." ┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅ At perhaps her wit's end, but definitely her life's end, Ikuko Nishimura makes a desperate plea for help to a cloudless sky. All she'd ever done in life was attract bad luck, however, so she never expected to receive an answer. Especially not in the form of a white-haired man wearing a blindfold.
Author's Note
