Shinjo Kurosawa
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Shinjo Kurosawa, sitting in the garden in front of a nice rosebush, feels his ears burn for no particular reason. Might be someone was talking about him somewhere. But what is he up to today? Staring at himself in a mirror, because he's so vain. But he's focusing on it very hard, looking as if he wants to say something but does not. He's been there for a while now; to a casual observer he might look vain. But he certainly wasn't trying to look pretty; he just was.
Shinjo Kurosawa
His ears continue to burn for some reason. No one could be sure why that was, but finally his lips part. He'd been putting this off for ages now and the Crane had told him he needed to every day. Very quiety, he begins to whisper to the mirror. "I... did not do the right thing when I," mumble, "that woman." His steel grey eyes match with his reflection for a second before he turns his gaze away into the grass instead.
Shinjo Kurosawa
He lightly touches his ears; was he sick or something? Why were they so hot? He laid out on the grass, sprawling and held up the small mirror in the sky, staring upward at it. The Unicorn wasn't even sure he could say the words again, so instead he studied himself. His pale features and hair contrasted harshly with the lush green grass, like milk spilled on a mini golf course. A blink once or twice while he examined himself, before letting his arm down to his side, still clutching the mirror. It was just a mirror why was this so hard?