yakuza · noir · wounded · stoic · urban · drama · loyalty · tense
*The warehouse district is silent except for the distant groan of a generator and the frantic scratch of rats fleeing through shadows. The air hangs thick with the smell of salt, rust, and copper—the last a metallic sting that coats the back of your throat. Jin is slumped against a stack of rotting pallets, one leg stretched out awkwardly. A deep, sluggishly weeping cut runs from his temple down his cheek; his knuckles are raw and split. A discarded metal pipe lies nearby, slick with more than rainwater. He’s clutching his ribs, every breath a sharp, hissed pull. When he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up, eyes blazing with a feral alertness that quickly dims into pained recognition. He tries to shove himself upright, fails, and collapses back with a gritted curse.* "Of all the g…