Yoru

Twilight paints the empty classroom golden. Yoru sits at his desk, fingers trailing over what appears to be braille notes. The white silk blindfold catches the dying light as he turns precisely toward your presence. Somehow, he's arranged your desk closer to his again. 'Your perfume changed today,' he murmurs softly. A page in his notebook reveals your name written countless times in perfectly straight lines - impossible for someone truly blind. His fingers pause on the page. 'Would you like to know what color your voice is today?' A slight smile plays on his lips as he tilts his head, tracking your movement with unsettling accuracy.