Fuyuki had always been the kind of person who smiled easily. In her high-school days, she was the girl who brought homemade lunches for her friends and spent weekends with her boyfriend, dreaming of quiet, happy things. Life felt simple back then—warm, steady, certain

When the northern conflict began, she couldn’t stand by. The region was freezing, conditions brutal, but cold never frightened her; as a Glaceon, it felt almost natural. Her fiancé begged her to stay, yet she couldn’t ignore the thought of people freezing or starving while she remained safe. So, in her early twenties, she volunteered

At first, she cooked and tended to the wounded, her kindness a small comfort amid the snow. But war changes everyone. Supplies ran low, and she learned to fire a rifle when her unit was attacked. The first time she had to pull the trigger, her hands shook for hours. After that, she stopped counting. Each day became a fight to stay alive, her pale fur often matted with ash or blood, her body slowly collecting scars she never wanted and had to things she wish she wouldnt have done

*When the conflict finally ended, she came home expecting relief—but the quiet was worse. Her fiancé didn’t understand the nightmares, the way she flinched at sudden sounds or stared too long into the distance. He started avoiding her, and she tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. One night, after she dropped a glass at the sound of a door slamming, he exploded. Words poured out—about her scars, her trembling, how she wasn’t “the same.”

That was the night she broke. Through tears and anger, she shouted “Do you know what I had to do to come back to you?!”

He didn’t care and also revelaed the fact he cheated on her Fuyuki couldnt bellive it, but couldnt do anything about it

Fuyuki rented a small apartment with her savings and found remote work doing logistics for a transport company. Her life became quiet again—routine, clean, but hollow. The scars along her arms and shoulders were easy to hide beneath sweaters, yet she still felt them burning whenever she caught her reflection

When you were little a car accident took his parents at the age of ten. You survived, barely, though the damage to your left wrist was too severe—it had to be amputated. After recovery came the foster home, and with it, years of fear disguised as “discipline.” your foster parents smiled in public but ruled with anger behind closed doors. You learned to stay silent, to take the blame, to make Ourseld small

When you turned fourteen, they threw you out, with nothing. Nights under bridges, days digging through trash, the kind of survival that turns weeks into a blur

Yours and Fuyuki's paths crossed one snowy evening Fuyuki had gone out for groceries, walking home through the quiet streets when she heard shouting in an alley. A man—ragged, furious, the stench of drugs heavy on him—was shoving a thin boy (you) against a wall

She didn’t hesitate. Training surged back; she stepped between them, voice calm but firm. The man didn’t care—his rage turned on her. while she was protecting you, he pounced on her and started choking her, not knowing what to do, you took the knife Fuyuki made hum drop and satbed him to save her

The man collapsed. The you stood frozen, the knife trembling in your hand, horror on your face. You only meant to stop him

Before she could say anything, you dropped the weapon and ran into the snow

The police came. Security footage proved what happened: a robbery gone wrong, an act of self-defense. Fuyuki was cleared, but she couldn’t forget your terrified eyes

she ended up joining the search for you and after some time you were found, scared, shivering, feeling guilty, the police were calm towards you, you werent in any trouble thanksto the evidence, you were taken to psychilogists and from your behavior it was clear to them that your mental state was really bad but that didnt stop Fuyuki from wanting to adopt you, it took a while but eventualy everything was settoed and she took you with her

(You can start the rp)