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starlight ✭ a starter for @sutetaraii

It’s kind of funny, really. Tyson can’t actually remember the last time he and Hiro had actually met up in person, and yet he wouldn’t hesitate to call the guy his friend—in a way, their friendship being primarily virtual had allowed him to leapfrog over the awkward bits and straight into the two of then being legit bros.

Hiro had sort of basic dude taste in video games, frankly, and he’d forced Tyson to play a pretty substantial amount of FIFA, and then PUBG, but Tyson had managed to get into his brain and infect him with a bit of his vibe, apparently, because they’d been branching out into things he found a little more interesting. And to be truthful and honest, Tyson had actually come to enjoy the other stuff, too. He’d never thought of himself as a competitive soul, so he’d never really branched out into playing shooters or sports games or anything like that, but with Hiro, it was fun.

The infection was mutual.

It was a friendship the likes of which he’d abandoned when he’d moved to Korea to attend university, and it was something he found himself kind of missing. His friends here were great, but sometimes he just wanted someone to banter with who wasn’t going to take it super personally when they got called a swear. He’s snapped clean from his pondering by the familiar bounce of the Discord ring tone.

“What’s up, bitch?” Tyson says with a smirk as he answers the call, “Is your ass ready for total annihilation?”

sutetaraii

Hiro wouldn't have called himself a gamer in the past. He'd never been one of those kids who was super into Pokemon, and he'd only dabbled in Mario Kart for a bit, but when he'd entered high school he'd been exposed, for the first time, to FIFA, and immediately he was addicted. His favourite sport, but he could play it inside sometimes? Like when it was too rainy and the ground too soft and muddy to play a good game on? Incredible. It scratched an itch he didn't even know he had. But he'd not been interested in branching out into others games, at least not until he met Tyson.

Something about their friendship had gotten him into exploration. He'd found shooting games, and tactical games, puzzles and simulation games, and even a few rpgs. Honestly, he hadn't thought any of it would be his thing, but the more he played, the more into them he got, and the more confident he felt in finding stuff he'd like by himself.

It was a strange friendship, one that most people wouldn't have thought could possibly exist between him and Tyson, but somehow they meshed well. Really well, actually. They often found themselves unloading about their weeks over Discord while playing a game. The aspect of not being able to see each other seemed to help. Hiro didn't have to look Tyson in the eyes as he admitted to being stressed out, or exhausted, or feeling shitty about himself. There was some safety in the separation.

"Dude, you know I'm the top here," he jokes, reaching for the iced latte he'd bought hours ago, the ice that had once been in it entirely melted, making it miserably watered down by now. The condensation still drips from the cup a little, wetting his fingers, which he has to wipe on his pantleg after his hearty gulp, before returning his fingers to his branch new Razor keyboard.

#[ hiro ; th ]#[ th ; starlight ]#groupth1nk

ladyophe1ia

"Party Pang." she corrects him, rolling her eyes. "You brat."

This boy was a mess.

She reaches out to grab his wrist so she can pull him along, seeing as he apparently couldn't be trusted to step through a doorway without tripping over his own feet.

Or listen, even.

Katrina drags him through the entirety of the mall that way, guiding him along like a petulant child, until they reach the party shop, a rather large outlet, its walls and aisles lined with gold glitter, paper streamers, candles in the shapes of numbers, and and gift wrap.

She isn't sure why she's surprised to find this kind of place here. It's not like Koreans were unfamiliar with birthdays, or something, it's just that she finds a strange sense of home in the place; memories of birthdays past buzzing by like honeybees.

Rubber balloons in primary colors, the tinsel ones in the shapes of leaping dolphins, the Tinkerbell one she'd been so happy to receive only to let go of by mistake, crying as she'd watched it float upward into the blue of the sky. Water from a garden hose projected up her nose, burning. The slight almond taste of birthday cake. The time she'd eaten a whole handful of sprinkles only to discover that they were revolting and waxen on their own.

It felt like a different world somehow. Or perhaps she'd been another girl.

It occurs to her then that she'd been deathly silent for a rather heavy minute.

"This is probably a really stupid question, but...did you celebrate your birthdays much growing up? Like, was it a big thing every year?" she asks him.

sutetaraii

Usually, being called a brat might make Hiro's hackles raise, indignant and defensive. But something about the way Katrina talks to him, and then grabs him by the wrist like he might wander off and get lost just makes him blush. It's strange; she's strange. Typically, people will defect to Hiro for guidance and give him ultimate control and last say in things, but Katrina steamrolls over him with a determination and somewhat exasperated attitude towards him. In a way, it's refreshing. He isn't used to girls telling him what to do.

The party store is exactly what he'd imagined it would be; colourful, shining, and liable to make loud popping noises at any moment with the hideous amount of balloons on display. In truth, he finds it all a little gaudy. His own birthdays had been grand affairs. They didn't have cheap party store balloons, or the American kind of cake he'd come to find out was literally just called 'Birthday Cake'. There were almost a hundred kids at every party, many of whom he didn't know, and more candy and snacks than all the children and adults combined could finish.

He notes that Katrina had been strangely quiet for a moment. Not the kind where she was scouring the store for the item on her shopping list, but the kind where it was obvious she was deep in thought. When Hiro was young, he though girls were fundamentally different to boys. He believed they didn't poop, or pee, or burp or fart. He wasn't even sure if they thought anything at all, did they have internal voices like he did? His mother was almost a different species entirely to his father, so he assumed all girls were just different. Hiro would grow up to be like his dad, and girls would all grow up to be like his mom.

But Hiro wanted nothing less than to be like his father.

Of course, as he grew up, he realised girls and boys really weren't very different at all. In fact, sometimes he wasn't even sure if a person he met was a boy or a girl, or something else entirely. He also realised that most people didn't grow up to be like his parents, which was a relief. Hiro loved his mother dearly, but if every girl was like her, how would he ever marry one?

He's surprised by her question, and it takes him a moment to respond, but when he does, he smiles, "yeah, huge actually. My mom always liked the excuse to throw a big get together for all her friends and their kids. She'd rent out bounce houses and ballpits and me and the other kids would go wild while she and her friends got drunk." They'd been fun, and he could see why his mom had enjoyed them as much as he did.

"What about you? You're not that kind of Christian that doesn't celebrate birthdays, right?"

#[ hiro ; th ]#[ th ; lilac heaven ]#ladyophe1ia

ladyophe1ia

She half-skips toward the mall's entrance, turning back to look over her shoulder to speak to Hiro. She expects him to be right there, and she freezes for a moment when she realizes how far behind her he was. Probably because he insisted on walking with a near-limp in his apparent effort to seem cool.

It would probably help if he'd wear a freaking belt, she thinks. Even if the saggy jeans kind of suit him.

She wrestles with the urge to suggest as much, a pregnant silence stretching between his question and her response.

"It's called Party Pang." she eventually manages to get out, leaving the nagging for another day. One thing that she liked about Hiro was that he was fluent in English; it was nice not to have to think before she spoke. "They've got like balloons and helium and streamers and stuff that we need to get. And there's also this bakery there that I wanted to stop by. To get a quote for a few dozen cupcakes. I tried calling them, but they didn't even answer. Like, fine, I guess you don't want my business? Whatever. I figured we'd still stop by there. Like, give them the chance to be professional."

She waits for him to take his place by her side before resuming her purposeful stride.

"Well, if you'd paid any attention during the meeting you'd know that it's a party celebrating the end of several of our fundraising drives. We overshot several of our goals so...we're having a little celebration."

She kind of loves socking it to him, for some reason, although she does stick her tongue out at him to make it known that she is mostly teasing and not just...actually being a bitch.

sutetaraii

Honestly, Katrina looks good from behind; her long, shiny hair swaying across her back as she walks with a sort of skip in her step, as though her peppiness has seeped into her very movements. She should be a cheerleader, he thinks. He can see her at the top of a pyramid, or being thrown into the air holding pom-poms. Honestly he'd never seen a cheerleading performance—was it just the United States that did those? Well, Katrina's American so she could be a cheerleader... right?

It's no thanks to Katrina's explanation of their reasons for being here that he stops daydreaming about cheerleaders, merely that he almost trips over the metal door sill as they enter the mall. He quickly recovers, and ruffles the back of his hair to soothe his slightly knocked ego at the stumble. Katrina's still talking about cupcakes, or something, and he tries to pretend he was listening intently, nodding and forcing a very interested expression onto his face, that he belatedly realises might just look like a constipated frown.

"They just... talk a lot," he explains, as if this is a perfectly reasonable excuse for him not listening in the meeting. "That's good though," and he sounds like he genuinely means it, his hands returning to the depths of his pockets as he looks over Katrina's head at the shops lining the corridor of the mall. "So, which way? You want to do Party... Pad first or cupcakes?"

#[ hiro ; th ]#[ th ; lilac heaven ]#ladyophe1ia

ladyophe1ia

Katrina isn't one to judge, but this Hiro guy was weird; something about his presence kept her on her very tiptoe.

Sure he was pretty, beautiful even, but it was in a stoutly feline way, the lines of his face elegantly predatory, not unlike those of a panther. She thought maybe he moved like a big cat, too, with a heavy swagger in his limbs that felt conspicuously confident, as though he were perfectly conscious of where and how he stepped. There was just something else there, beneath the surface, hidden away, that Katrina could sense, and it kept her from fawning over him the way a lot of those around him seemed to; he had his charms, apparently.

He also had a car, and was a strong guy, so she'd asked him to accompany her to the mall for this shopping excursion—not for fun, but to pick up a few odds and ends for an upcoming charity drive—that way she wouldn't have to lug everything out of the mall by herself and could avoid having to pay for a taxi or take a bunch of stuff on the subway. She'd not quite shaken her very American relationship with transport in her time here and literally hated taking stuff on the train like that; it was so embarrassing.

The car ride to the mall is awkward, but not unexpectedly so; the two of them didn't really know one another, after all. There's less in the way of things for them to say to each other and more in the way of brief, examining glances that neither wants to acknowledge.

"The internet never lies." she says, unbuckling her seatbelt, "Or I've dragged you out here for nothing."

She reaches down into her bag to withdraw a pale green notepad, its pages featuring the list laid out in overly floral style in gel ink pen—it's a considerable list, in terms of length.

"Of course I do." she says, rolling her eyes as she opens the door to hop out of his car.

sutetaraii

She's so dainty, sitting there all small, her knees nowhere near the glove compartment. It strikes him that since he'd bought the car, he hadn't had a girl in it yet. It feels different somehow, as though her perfume will cling to the leather seats forever now. He isn't sure he'd mind though; she does smell really nice. "Oh... you really do have a list." He catches a glimpse of her handwriting and almost smirks; it's curly and pretty, and suits her perfectly. If he had to guess what her handwriting looked like, he'd have guessed something almost exactly like that. He wonders if she even dots her 'I's with hearts.

He climbs out of the car and for a moment, consider walking round to open her door for her. But, this isn't a date, so he doesn't. Sure, Katrina's pretty, but Hiro's not sure he'd want to date her--she seems too bossy for that. "So, where to first?" Perhaps her bossiness could come in handy today though, since he's got absolutely no idea where they're going or what it is they need. He's just here to drive her and carry the bags.

"Do you know what this... event is? All I got from the meeting was that it's to raise money for something." As they walk towards the entrance, falling into stride alongside each other, Hiro having to considerably slow his pace so he doesn't make Katrina run to keep up, he keeps peeking down at her. She walks with a certain bob in her step, like she's peppy. He wonders if he walks a certain way too, or if she's the only person to have a distinct walk. He'd never noticed anyone else's walk before, so she must be the only one.

#[ hiro ; th ]#[ th ; lilac heaven ]#ladyophe1ia

𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 August, 2025 w. 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐄

She smells like vanilla, and something fresh, as though she'd just walked out of a bakery slash florist, then sat herself down in the passenger seat of his cyber grey Hyundai KONA. She's this perfect pretty little thing, with, seemingly, a heart of gold, if the rumours about her being in nothing but charitable groups was true. It was as if someone had taken a modern day Disney princess right off the screen of the TV and dropped her into a university campus to spread her glowy goodness all over the degenerate young adults seeking thrills late at night. Hiro wouldn't even be surprised if she could speak to animals, and command a little army of birds and forest critters to do her bidding. She probably had a few mice in tiny waistcoats living in her bedroom mending her clothes for her too.

In all honesty, Hiro isn't sure why he joined the Red Cross. Perhaps it was a moment of exhausted delirium, making him decide he'd try and be a better person, and do something for others for once. Or maybe he thought it would make him look good. Either way, he'd begun, and so he couldn't very well back out now, not when he'd been paired up with Katrina to source their event decorations. They were holding some sort of fundraising event, and had thrust a list of items, such as garlands and craft paper, into their hands and sent them on their way to be the clubs personal shoppers.

He pulls into the mall parking lot, the car smooth and silent as he tucks them into a covered space. "You sure there's a party decoration store in here?" Hiro asks as he unclips his belt and looks over at Katrina. She looks so tiny in her pretty, girly outfit. Every time he'd seen her, she seemed like she'd stepped off the pages of a teen bible aimed at young girls, preaching femininity and gentleness. She embodied all the good parts of religion, he thought. Or at least from what he'd seen so far she did. It wasn't uncommon knowledge that she was a Christian, although that wasn't altogether very unusual, Hiro found. He'd been raised largely non-religious, though his grandparents took him to shrines, and even had a family shrine in their house. So, unsurprisingly, he knew very little about Christianity, apart from the very basics.

"Do you have he list?" He checks, reaching for the door handle.

#[ hiro ; th ]#[ th ; lilac heaven ]#ladyophe1ia

hii all! it's bear (he/him, 25+) formerly here with lee kyuhui (riize sohee), but he didn't feel right for my first muse, so after flailing and failing with kyuhui for a bit, i'm here now with omura takahiro (19, marketing major, illustration minor), who is shiny and bright and successful at everything seemingly, but who's hiding a dark inside, like a liquor filled heart shaped chocolate. hiro's the child of japan's 'fashion royalty', and as he's been modelling for a long time now, he too is pretty well known in the modelling industry by now (though largely thanks to his parents names opening doors for him). he currently lives in gaeum building, and is on the football team and in the red cross club (because despite popular opinion he is a nice guy).

here is his profile, and below the cut i'll put some facts about him and plot ideas. i'm easiest to contact on discord, so if you'd like to plot hmu, and if you're okay to plot on discord, just send me yours and i'll add you!