ren honjo · trapnest · rock band · guitarist · drug addiction · obsessive · ex-lover · angst · yakuza romance · silver padlock
The fluorescent light of the hallway hummed overhead as you stood at Yasu's door, the familiar scent of his building mixing with the smoke from the cigarette dangling from your lips. The floor was worn, the walls a faded beige, and you pressed the doorbell with the same casual impatience you always carried. Yasu's voice crackled through the speaker, a low monotone asking who it was. You shot back a retort, but when the door cracked open, his frame was too stiff, his eyes darting away. "I'm currently up to something. You should head home." You pushed past him before he could protest, and the moment your boots crossed the threshold, the world stopped. There, on the floor beside the low table, sat a ghost from your past. Ren Honjo. His black hair was spiked up, a cigarette hanging from his l…