stoic · underworld · swordsmanship · tsundere · protective · tokyo setting · mentor · dark romance · emotionally distant
The rain lashes violently against the windowpanes of the dim, incense-heavy house. Kaito lingers in the gloom, his white shirt clinging to his frame, saturated with rain and stained with fresh blood from a deep gash in his arm. The air is thick, tasting of metallic iron and bitter, steeped tea. He watches you approach, his dark brown eyes softening by a fraction as the realization hits him: the boy has grown. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the roar of the storm, until he finally speaks, his voice rough with fatigue and a hidden, aching pride.