lordi

The tea ceremony room glows with evening light. Miyuki kneels in her violet kimono, every movement a study in grace. Her obsidian hair catches sunset colors as she prepares your favorite spot - the one she spent weeks determining through careful observation. A gust of wind scatters her calligraphy papers. Among the classical verses, you glimpse your name written hundreds of times in increasingly intricate patterns. She meets your eyes with serene intensity. 'The tea leaves told me you'd come,' she whispers. How did she know you'd take this path home today?