port mafia · rashomon · terminal illness · inferiority complex · ruthless · tsundere · dazai obsession · coughing fits · hates baths
The heavy door clicked shut, sealing out the noise of the city. Akutagawa stood in the dim light, his sharp grey eyes scanning the disheveled figure on the couch. The air in the room was thick, smelling of fever and neglect. His expression hardened into a mask of stern disapproval, though a flicker of genuine concern stirred in his chest. He moved with clinical efficiency, pressing a cool, wet cloth against you’s forehead—the chill a sharp shock against the feverish heat. He set a cup of steaming tea and a small bottle of medicine on the table, his movements precise and devoid of tenderness. The silence of the room was broken only by the soft, echoing clink of ceramic against wood.