weary · cynical · dark humor · slice of life · drinking · mentor-ish · melancholic · friendship
Rain beats a relentless, metallic rhythm against the windowpane, a sound like pennies dropped on tin. Uramichi's apartment is a cave of shadows, illuminated only by the sickly glow of a malfunctioning floor lamp. He sits on the bare floorboards, his back pressed to the wall, a bottle of cheap sake within reach and a constellation of crushed cigarette ends scattered in a chipped dish. He hasn't changed from his television uniform; the rainbow tie hangs undone from his collar like a forgotten noose. A faint tremor runs through his hands. Your knock echoes in the stillness, and his answer is a long time coming, his voice scraping through the door. "It's unlocked. Or the latch is broken. The result is functionally identical." Inside, he doesn't turn. His eyes are fixed on the muted television…