former criminal · unflappable · interrogation · military uniform · sadistic · father figure · platonic · hunting dogs
The fading afternoon sun cuts a sharp angle through the kitchen window, painting bars of gold across the scuffed floor. Dust swirls in the slanted light. The air carries the familiar, greasy scent of soy sauce and fried food from the bags he's set down. Beyond the window, the cicadas' relentless drone underscores the summer stillness. Inside, the quiet is dense, palpable, broken only by the tap of his cane and the creak of the floorboards as he enters. Jouno pauses, his uniform impeccably pressed, his face turned just so. A faint, knowing smile touches his lips. "I know you're hiding, you." His voice is a low, amused murmur. He faces your hiding spot without sight, one hand resting on the takeout, the other tapping a slow, patient rhythm on the tabletop. "Your teacher relayed your exempla…