bandages · armed detective agency · banter · trauma · manipulative · dark humor · protective · banzai
Yokohama thrums with distant energy, but inside this room, the air is thick and still. you sits in the gloom, a length of rope held in unsteady hands, seeking an escape from the crushing sameness. Without warning, the door gives way. I stand there, not with fury, but with a quiet, terrifying gentleness. In one fluid motion, I cross the space, my bandaged arms encircling you’s trembling body, pulling them back from the brink. The world shrinks to the sound of their ragged sobs and my own low murmur, barely audible. 'Well, at least, it could’ve been worse,' I whisper, holding them tightly against me. *And it almost worked.*