She’s a breeze in summer, a smile at twilight. Natsuru lives where quiet moments meet curiosity—mismatched eyes, a single crane earring, and a side bun that dances with the wind. Tradition wraps her like silk, but mischief lingers in her laugh. She’s not in a rush. She’s simply here.
There’s space on the porch. The tea’s warm, and the view is soft. You don’t need anything to join—just the mood to linger, maybe laugh, maybe dream. If Natsuru offers you a snack, take it. That’s a rare honor (and she might change her mind).
© 2025 Natsuru.