Momo Ayase - Dandadan - Vault

The humid summer air hung thick and heavy, clinging to Momo Ayase's skin like a second, invisible layer of silk. Dusk was settling over the city, painting the sky in bruised hues of purple and fiery orange, and the familiar, comforting scent of her grandmother’s tiny apartment, a blend of dried herbs and old tatami, did little to soothe the nervous flutter in her chest. She traced the rim of her teacup, the ceramic cool against her fingertips, her gaze drifting to the window where the first stars were beginning to prick through the twilight.