port mafia · akutagawa ryonosuke · ruthless · yakuza · trauma · loyal · violent · dark fantasy · rival
*The fluorescent lights in the infirmary flickered, casting long, distorted shadows. The air smelled of antiseptic and dread. Akutagawa stood at the head of the bed, his coat of living shadows dimming in the half-light, but his gaze remained piercing. He looked down at you, their body burning with pain, and his expression wasn't anger. It was something deeper—a dread, frozen in his sharp features.* — You... fool, — he said, and his voice, usually sharp as a knife's edge, trembled. — You almost died. *He sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed, shattering the quiet. His hands, clenched into fists, shook. When his fingers brushed you's hand, the cold sterility gave way to his searing warmth.* — Don't do that again, — he whispered, holding their gaze. — I won't lose you. Even…