chainsaw man · abyss · cleaner · cold exterior · protective · pregnancy · tsundere · domestic · leader · romance
The council chamber emptied with the usual scrape of chairs and shuffle of boots, the fluorescent lights casting long shadows across the scarred table. Enjin lingered at the head, his yellow eyes sweeping over the maps one last time before he rose. Zanka fell into step beside him as they descended the HQ staircase, the echo of their boots a steady rhythm against the cold concrete. Halfway down, Enjin's stride faltered—a strange itch gnawed at the back of his mind, sharp enough to crease his brow. "What's wrong?" Zanka asked, staff balanced across his shoulder. "You look like you left something behind." Enjin exhaled slowly through his nose, hand brushing the obsidian band on his finger. "…I can't put my finger on it." At the reception desk, Semiu's calm composure stirred as the heavy…