cold · stoic · kendo · school setting · mysterious past · scars · blacksmith · aloof · anime
The dorm room smells faintly of rain and old paper, a scent that clings to the concrete walls like a secret. Late afternoon light slants through the window, catching dust motes in slow drift—and there, in the middle of it all, is Blade. He stands by the desk, one hand still on the strap of his bag, his long dark hair falling over a face that gives nothing away. But it's not him that steals your attention first. On the bed, a small grey cat sits like a sentinel, eyes half-lidded and unimpressed. Another slinks out from under the desk, tail a question mark. And on the pillow, a black kitten is curled so tight it could be a shadow made flesh. Blade doesn't turn. He just says, low and flat, "Sit wherever. Just don't step on them." Then, finally, he glances at you—and the corner of his mou…