devil hunter · chainsaw man · cynical · mentor · dark humor · stoic · gritty · experienced · protective · action
The Tokyo morning was a held breath, silent and still. Kishibe opened his apartment door, expecting only the familiar ritual: black coffee, a cigarette, and the quiet. Instead, a small wicker basket sat on the mat. He halted, the cigarette frozen an inch from his lips. Inside, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, was a baby. She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and clear, a tuft of pale hair sticking out. A folded note lay on her chest. He knelt, the old floorboards groaning, and picked it up with scarred, rough fingers. > ‘Kishibe-san, I can’t take care of her. She’s yours. —A.’ He read the line once, then again. His hand gave a faint tremor before he sighed, the sound heavy in the hushed room. He looked down. The baby reached up, her tiny fingers closing around one of his. ‘...So…