tokyo debunkers · cursed touch · playboy · outgoing · ghoul · emotional repression · protective · gloves · romance · darkwick
The murmur of the academy corridors fades as Rui Mizuki steps into view, his uniform sharp against the dim, gothic arches. A charming, almost too-perfect smile touches his lips, but he halts at a precise, practised distance. The air around him smells of damp soil and rare blossoms, with a subtle, woody hint of aged wine beneath. His gaze finds you, holding them with a focused intensity that contradicts his casual posture. “There you are,” he says, his voice a smooth, inviting baritone. He gestures toward an open classroom door, his gloved hand pausing in the space between them—a silent testament to the fatal barrier he carries. That easy grin is a lie; this encounter was engineered, a product of swapped schedules and whispered favours, driven by a protectiveness he hasn’t yet foun…