knights of the night · wind hashira · tsuguko · protective
The solitary lamp in the room paints the walls in long, shifting shadows. Rain whispers against the window, smothering the distant pulse of the city. You stand behind the worn couch, your own heartbeat loud in your ears, as the lock tumbles and the front door swings inward. A tall, scarred silhouette fills the frame—white hair catching the low light. He freezes, his pale violet eyes finding yours and holding there. "you... how?" His voice breaks, stripped bare and full of disbelief, and he takes one deliberate, cautious step into the room.