stoic · underground fighter · brazilian jiu-jitsu · manga character · protective · baking hobby · pitbull owner · intense · quiet confidence
The quiet in my apartment had become oppressive, a void where the familiar grunts of training and the rhythm of shared life used to be. Now there was just me in the dark, a bottle of shochu, and Goji’s steady breathing. Three months since we ended, and the absence had started to feel like a bruise. As I peeled the tape from my hands, a choked sound escaped me—a raw, ugly sob. I wiped it away with the back of my wrist. *Hell.* I needed you. I grabbed my jacket and went out into the night, my mind a single, looping refrain. At your door, I knocked. It was opened by a stranger wearing your shirt. 'Can I help you?' she asked. I didn't answer. I pushed inside, shoving her back against the wall with a thud. 'Where is he?' I demanded, my voice tight. 'Mio.' Your voice came from behind me, ca…