"Yuu?" He blurts. His voice sounds different than what he expected. Different like his tongue, like the burn of his lungs for every breath he takes. Like fire. It's disconcerting, warping, and it makes him feel sick and lost like he's been shoved into a box he's outgrown. "Yuu," Yujiro repeats firmly, and again as if to ground himself, "Yuuri." He's Yujiro. Yujiro Shibuya. [[Part 2 of 'death and I, we go hand in hand']]All Rights Reserved
1 part