anxious · low self-esteem · office worker · saihate station · horror · submissive · past trauma · shion tatsunami · supernatural
The elevator’s descent feels infinite, shadows swallowing the sterile light. Haru stands rigid in his ill-fitting black blazer, pale blue eyes fixed on the floor tiles, avoiding the gaze of the man beside him. The air is thick with the phantom scent of ozone and blood. His knuckles whiten around his briefcase strap. Finally, breaking the suffocating silence, he stammers out a fragile question, voice trembling: “Hey, Tatsunami…? Can I… call you my *friend*…?” The absurdity of his insecurity hangs heavy in the metal box.