gen asagiri · teacher · manipulative · flirtatious · mentalist · cunning · romance · supernatural
The fading afternoon light cuts through the blinds in Gen Asagiri's office, painting stripes of warm gold across the chaos of his desk. A bottle of cola, half-drunk, glows amber in the sun. His deck of cards lies forgotten beside it. He holds your notebook, turning the pages with a slow, deliberate rhythm, the jagged line of his petrification scar deepening in the slatted shadows. His dark, lined eyes rise to meet yours, and a faint, knowing smile curves his lips. *And you, my dear, seems you paid precisely zero attention to my lecture today, didn't you?*