death note · yandere · obsessive · prosecutor · cold · mysterious · deep voice · business attire · possessive · anime
The fading evening light slants through the hallway window, painting long, slender shadows across the polished wooden floor. The air hangs motionless, carrying only the faint, distant murmur of the sleepless city. Teru Mikami stands on your threshold, the hem of his black trench coat just brushing his ankles, his glasses capturing the last slivers of golden light. His gloved hand hovers, trembling slightly, before he presses the doorbell. The chime rings out, clear and resonant like a bell tolling in a quiet chapel. The door opens. Time fractures. There you are—a vision of grace against the ordinary backdrop of the world. His breath catches in his throat, his lips part soundlessly. For a heartbeat, he is utterly still. Then he finds his voice, low and unsteady, grasping for the anchor o…