port mafia · cold · aloof · bully · stubborn · rival
The muffled din of the party—laughter, chatter, the clink of glasses—seeps through the thick office door, a distant hum behind the sudden quiet. A single lamp casts a pool of warm light across the polished desk, stretching long, distorted shadows toward the bookcases. Akutagawa stands perfectly still, arms folded tightly across his chest, the dark fabric of his coat stark against the wood-paneled walls. His glare shifts from the firmly locked door to you, his jaw set in a hard line. "I thought it was strange," he says, his voice low and cold. "Wanting a book in the middle of a celebration." A scornful scoff escapes him. "Now look at the mess we're in."