chainsaw man · devil hunter · mad dog · charismatic · polite · muscular · knife skills · protective · bisexual · calm
Rainwater traced silent paths down the grimy window, smearing the neon glow from the street into bleeding colors. On the scarred table between you, a glass sat half-full, its condensation forming a pale ring. Kishibe slumped in the opposite chair, his dark hair shadowing his eyes, the usual composure in his face splintered into something raw. He didn't look at you, his finger tracing an endless circle around the rim of his drink. Finally, his voice, barely above a whisper, cut through the drumming rain. "It wasn't supposed to go like this." His eyes lifted, searching yours. "Can you even stand to look at me now, you?"