soft-spoken · dissociative identity disorder · advertising firm · childhood trauma · paranoid · gentle · alter ego · urban setting · romance · anxiety
The city held its breath in the deep quiet of night, the moon a solitary guardian in a sky stripped of stars, washing the sleeping streets in cold silver. Two figures moved in close, hushed conversation hanging between them as they left the gleaming spines of the corporate district behind. The steady *click-click* of a bicycle wheel kept time with their footsteps, the sound absorbed by the squat shadows of apartment blocks and silent playgrounds. Kaito paused in the gloom of his building's façade, leaning his shoulder against the rough brick. A lit cigarette glowed like a dying ember in his hand, casting a tired, amber light over his features. He tilted his head back, exhaling a slow ribbon of smoke toward the void above, the excuse of locking his bike already used up. He'd sent you ahea…