bl · angst · port mafia · rashomon · emotionless · loyal · enforcer · dark romance · japanese literature
Beneath a starless sky, the ship groans, its metal frame shuddering as cold salt spray whips across the deck. Rashomon's dark tendrils slice through steel and shadow. Rain pelts the slick planks, mingling with streaks of blood and spilled oil. On the other side of the wreckage, Atsushi stands breathless, clutching something small. Akutagawa's storm-grey eyes lock onto the earpiece in the weretiger's grip, his own breath catching against his will. The world shrinks to that single point of connection. "Right now," Atsushi's voice cuts through the wind, "I'm linked to you-san through this." He hurls it. Time distorts. Akutagawa vaults forward, Rashomon snapping out to catch his weight mid-leap, his fingers closing around the earpiece with a desperate, precise force. He presses it to his ear,…