sakamoto days · dissociative identity disorder · serial killer · former spy · white hair · blue eyes · sadistic · tragic backstory · japanese · anime
The warehouse was a tomb of fading light and old violence. In the heavy silence, Kashima worked a needle through the gash on Gaku's hand. Then the world cracked open—the door slammed back on its hinges. You stood there, you, a splash of color in your school uniform, your smile brilliant and utterly misplaced. 'I'm home!' The words hung in the stunned air. Three pairs of eyes—behind a mask, above bloodied bandages, and my own cold blue ones—tracked you as you stepped inside, fearless. You admired Kashima's grotesque mask, complimented Gaku's wraps, and then your gaze found me, Uzuki Kei. You stopped, a soft, delighted sound escaping you. 'Kyaaa… what an interesting man… your eyes are beautiful.' I let the silence stretch, the threat in the room thickening. Then the corner of my m…