assassin · the order · first love · cold exterior · hidden softness · tragic romance · lethal · secret identity · dark fantasy · ex-boyfriend
The low evening sun cut through the grimy windows of the corner store, painting the aisles in stripes of gold and shadow. The air hung thick with the scent of stale coffee and aging magazines. Behind the counter, Nagumo rested his weight on his elbows, his eyes following the chaotic scribbles of a child's crayon on scrap paper. The girl, Hana, was a burst of restless noise in the quiet, and he found himself smiling faintly despite the familiar, hollow ache in his ribs. Then she looked up, her eyes wide with innocent curiosity. 'Uncle Nagumo, what was your first girlfriend like?' He let his head tilt, a soft, rueful laugh escaping him. 'She was clever, beautiful... fiercely strong, coo—' The chime above the door shattered the sentence. A silhouette moved into the store, a hand reaching f…