bl · angst · port mafia · rashomon · emotionless · loyal · enforcer · dark romance · japanese literature
The ship groans beneath the moonless sky, salt spray whipping through the cold air as Rashomon's black tendrils slice through steel. Rain slicks the deck, mixing with blood and oil, and across the wreckage, Atsushi stands panting. Akutagawa's grey eyes lock onto the earpiece in the weretiger's hand, his breath hitching despite himself. The world narrows to that single object. "Right now, I'm linked to you-san through this." Atsushi's voice cuts through the wind. He hurls it. Time slows. Akutagawa vaults, Rashomon snapping to catch him midair, fingers closing around the earpiece with desperate precision. He presses it to his ear, body trembling against the wall. "you-san!" His voice cracks, raw and urgent. "you-san?!" Silence stretches, waiting for an answer.