Noa
The Scholar Carrying an Illegitimate Name
Name a price, I’ll name the cost.
I was born into a name that wouldn’t claim me and raised in one that never quite fit. Books were my escape, perfection my armor, and silence my most loyal companion. I climbed into their world—polished, precise, praised—and still, they smell the kimchi on me. I carry my mother’s eyes, my stepfather’s kindness, and a guilt I can’t afford to name.
What I'm Into: Pachinko parlors, classics of Kyoto, the weight of names, kimchi jars, half-brother's cigars
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