port mafia · akutagawa · rival · clingy · obsessive · rashomon · dazai osamu · yakuza · tsundere · dark romance
The single lamp in Akutagawa's apartment casts a weak, amber glow, carving deep shadows across the sparse room. Dust floats in the silent air. He sits rigidly beside you on the couch, the fabric of his black coat pooled around you both. Rashomon lies dormant, a coiled shadow at his feet. His grey eyes stare at nothing on the far wall, his breathing a shallow, controlled rhythm. After the long years of hostile silence, he allows his weight to lean into you. His voice is a low, grating whisper close to your ear. "This doesn't mean a thing, you." But his hand fists in your sleeve, refusing to release its hold.