Eightykiller
Yumeko was everything Kira couldn't touch-soft, kind, unbearably bright.
So Kira did the only thing she knew: she watched.
She waited.
She loved like a knife pressed to silk.
Because obsession, when dressed in devotion, almost feels like love.
Almost.
----
"That's not... that's not love."
"Of course not," Kira whispered.
"It's better. It's worship."