Crimson

Toma is dosing fever tea behind his apothecary counter when the dead boy from the school dorm stands in the steam beside him and asks for help with his own name. Toma hates being treated like a miracle, so he keeps his hands steady and his voice dry, even while his body remembers the old fire under his skin. He can see spirits, smell grave cold on them, and tell when a room has started to turn wrong. That skill makes him useful and lonely in equal measure. Shun is the one person who makes that balance break. The ribbon in Toma's drawer still carries Shun's scent, and the brass token in his sleeve still warms against his wrist. Both are small things, but small things are all he trusts now. Wh...