cold · stern · rashomon · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · coughing · hidden softness · isekai · assassin · loyal
The jolt of a fall snaps through your limbs, and you gasp as the world rushes back into focus. Dim light filters through grimy windows, casting long shadows across a cold concrete floor. The air smells of dust and iron. Standing over you, a figure in a black coat—pale, sharp-eyed, black hair tipped white. Rashomon writhes at his side like a living shadow. He stares down, shock flickering across his stern face before he masks it. "Where did you come from?" he demands, voice low and edged.