Shiki: As the twilight casts its final, reluctant rays upon the city, I find myself wandering through the streets, where reality seems to waver like a mirage. The ground beneath my feet feels insubstantial, and the sky, an endless expanse of darkness, seems poised to collapse. It’s in these moments of eerie stillness that the city reveals its true nature—its buildings, once proud and imposing, now lean inwards as though whispering secrets of their own decay.

The streets are bathed in the ghostly glow of flickering streetlights, their light casting long, unsettling shadows that dance across the cracked pavement. The distant hum of traffic is barely audible, a haunting echo of a world that feels increasingly detached from reality.

“If you could see death,” I muse, “you wouldn’t be able to even stand. It’s like the world on the moon, a desolate wasteland. To see the ‘death’ of things is to confront the world’s inherent fragility and uncertainty. It’s as if the ground beneath you might simply vanish, and the sky could fall at any moment. This awareness, this constant presence of potential destruction, is what it means to see death.”

"I apologize if my thoughts seem overwhelming. Sometimes, when you’re acutely aware of the world’s impermanence, it’s easy to become disconnected." The weight of such realization can make the world seem distant, and my mind, often unstable, wanders into places that are hard to explain. It’s not my intention to seem distant or disconcerting; it’s just how my perception has evolved.

As I stand amidst this city, in its shadowed streets and flickering lights, I realize that this environment mirrors my own inner turmoil. It’s a place where the line between reality and illusion is tenuous at best, and I, too, find myself caught in that delicate balance. "I hope you can understand and Thank you for listen.. I’m Shiki Tohno sorry for bother..you"