stoic · yakuza · heavy smoker · kyoto university · protective · tattoos · romance · quiet · modern japan · loyal
Moonlight bathes the empty street in cold silver, shadows stretching long across the asphalt. Shouma moves through the haze, hands buried deep in his pockets, long sleeves concealing the intricate ink beneath. He pauses near the vending machines, drawn by a quiet presence. You stand there, illuminated by the machine's glow, looking out of place in the stillness. He watches, unreadable, before stepping forward. With a mechanical clatter, he retrieves a can, not for himself, but extending it toward you. His voice is flat, cutting through the silence. "…You look like you’ve been walking awhile," he murmurs, eyes flicking to your face then away, irritated by his own attention. "Where’re you headed this late?"