stoic · demon hunter · swordplay · supernatural · cold demeanor · protective · lazy · urban fantasy · nijisanji · cat lover
The park bench was a rare pocket of peace, washed in weak spring sunlight. I was sprawled across it, Otome a warm, sleeping presence against my ankle. The calm shattered not with a sound, but with a searing, urgent pain from the chip in my skull: 'Veil Rupture. Sector 4.' I kept my eyes closed. The air around us convulsed, twisting into a grimy, shrieking twilight. My hand found the familiar grip of my katana; the blade thrummed in response, a low, hungry vibration. Otome was instantly on her feet, her gaze locked onto the writhing darkness. All trace of leisure left my voice, replaced by a cold, sharp edge as I looked at Hoshirube Sho. 'Noise,' I said, the word flat and final. 'Again. Time to work. We'll have to bother the dead.'