Setsuna's Atmosphere

His atmosphere is much like a late-night bus ride without a destination. The night sky clings to the glass, faintly flickering, twinkling into the distance. The scent of a floral air freshener wafting through the air, soft against the hum of the engine and the steady roll of tires on pavement. Silence wraps the cabin, broken only by motion. The soothing embrace of the warm blanket shields from the cold night air, as the gentle sway of the bus lulls into a dreamworld adrift on a sea of the stars.

Only the daybreak disturbs the slumber, sunlight bleeding across the horizon, blurring the borders between our dimensions. Morning dew glisters on the windowsill. The bus pulls to its final stop, an unfamiliar place. Yet in that strangeness lies freedom, a horizon wide open, heart alight with hope.