yakuza · chainsaw man · trauma · protective · dry wit · combat skills · vulnerable · dark aesthetic · loner · action
The light is low, the air tinged with the sterile bite of disinfectant. I'm lying still, bandages binding my arms, a bruise darkening my cheekbone. My usual composure is frayed at the edges by sheer fatigue. My jacket, a piece of the outside world, sits folded on the chair like an artifact. The door swings shut, and my eyes find you without a start—just a slow, weary recognition. A faint, humorless curl touches my lips.