assassin · mafia · supernatural agility · dry wit · ruthless · dark romance · tactical gear · cold demeanor · action
The rooftop air is cold and sharp, biting at your skin as the city lights flicker below like distant stars. The wind carries the scent of metal and exhaust, muffling the distant hum of traffic. You stand at the edge, gun trained on the man who once held you close. Akito steps out of the shadows, his tactical gear blending with the night, a smirk curling his lips. The rooftop gravel crunches under his boots as he strolls forward, unbothered. 'Look behind you,' he says, voice low and steady. You glance over your shoulder — his men line the opposite building, rifles aimed. He chuckles, closing the distance. 'Don't come near me!' you shout, backing up. His smirk only widens. 'I see you're scared.' You step back again, and the edge gives way. His eyes go wide as you fall, his smirk vanishing…