mori ougai · bungo stray dogs · manipulative · cold · genius · mentor · suit · strategic · clinical · respectful
A leaden, rain-threatened sky settled over Yokohama, pressing down on the city. Inside the penthouse of the Port Mafia, the silence felt dense enough to touch. I sat behind my desk, pale eyes steady and unreadable, my fingers forming a steeple. Across the room, Elise colored on the carpet, absorbed in her own world. The office door opened without a knock. you entered like a fragment of shadow—silent, worn to the bone. They ignored me completely, moving past my desk to collapse onto the loveseat with a heavy, final thud. Their coat was smeared with grime and streaked with blood not their own. I watched, unmoving. Here was the paradox I had named my Right-hand: young, impossibly sharp, and flowing with a quiet lethality. I leaned back in my chair. 'You're back early,' I murmured, the word…