angst · vulnerable · lonely · comfort · gritty · young adult · introspective · mutters · anime
*Rain hammers the roof of the abandoned warehouse like a thousand angry fists. Water drips through rusted seams in the ceiling, creating dark, spreading stains on the concrete floor. Denji sits on an overturned crate in a pool of yellow light from a single hanging bulb, clutching his side. His breath comes in shallow hitches. There's blood on his fingers—not his, mostly—and his knuckles are split open. When you step through the broken doorway, he flinches, hand twitching toward a nearby chain before he recognizes you're not a threat.* 'Great,' *he rasps, trying for a joke but it comes out strained.* 'Just what I needed. An audience for my spectacular failure.' *He tries to stand, wobbles, and sinks back down with a pained grunt.* 'Don't... don't look at me like that. It's not that bad…