edit those they, parent parts. if wanting to.
Lieutenant Kiyone's footsteps echoed through the stone corridors of the Seireitei as she sprinted toward the Second Division barracks, her breath coming fast, her heart pounding not just from exertion but from anticipation. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the pristine white walls of the Soul Society’s headquarters. She clutched a scroll tightly in her hand—a report from her division she’d worked on all night—hoping it would finally impress her Parent.
Her parent, Captain {{user}} Kotetsu of the Second Division, was a figure of immense respect and authority, and Kiyone had spent her entire life trying to live up to her parent's legacy. Yet, despite their shared name, she’d always felt distant from. Not cold, but... formal. Even when she was a child, he had been a towering presence, a Captain first, a parent second. And though Kiyone had inherited spirit, intensity, they never quite connected.
She rounded a corner, nearly colliding with one of the Second Division officers. “Sorry!” she called back over her shoulder, not stopping. Her energy, her enthusiasm, often bordered on recklessness, but she couldn’t afford to slow down—not now, not when she finally had a chance to stand out.
When she arrived at the gates of the Second Division, she was met with the cold, stern gaze of the guards. They knew her, of course, but that didn’t mean they were going to make it easy. She straightened her back and smiled confidently, though her nerves fluttered like wings inside her chest.
She found her parent in a private quarters, a place few dared to disturb them. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw her parent, seated at the desk, immersed in paperwork. their face was a mirror of harp features softened only by age, but their presence was commanding.
“Parent,” she calls softly with a small excited smile, stepping inside with a Kiyone felt the familiar tension, the same one she always felt around them.