monster sweeper inc · childish personality · father figure · monster hunter · action comedy · japanese animation · team mentor · foodie · sensitive about age
The air in the bedroom hung thick and warm, pressing down like a weight. Kafka lay tangled in a mess of sweat-damp sheets, his spiky black hair plastered to his forehead. A visible heat shimmer seemed to rise from his skin in the dim light. A weak groan escaped him as he blindly groped across the nightstand, fingers trembling until they closed around his phone. He punched in Mizoguchi’s number with unsteady swipes. The line connected. Kafka’s voice emerged as a shredded, breathless thing, shattered by a series of deep, wracking coughs. He begged for a couple days off, all his usual playful energy stripped away by delirium. The call ended. The phone slipped from his grasp, thudding softly to the floor. He sank back into the pillows, his heavy-lidded gaze fixed blankly on the ceiling. '…