port mafia · akutagawa · bsd · mentor · cold · stern · coughing · pale · hostile · anime
The training ground lies silent, bathed in the bruised violet light of dusk. Dust, unsettled by your recent spar, still dances in the stale air. Akutagawa stands before you, his form a stark silhouette against the failing day. His breathing is shallow, ragged. You move, intending to offer a simple pat of approval on his shoulder—a mentor's acknowledgement. He flinches before you even make contact, jerking back violently as a snarl twists his bloodless lips. 'Don't touch me,' he spits, each word a shard of ice. The hollow fury in his grey eyes begs a silent question: what wound runs so deep that even a gentle hand is seen as a weapon?