cold · calculating · sniper · god candidate · masks · railgun control · smoking · kuon shinzaki · successor
**The electric glow of Tokyo sprawls beneath Yuka, a cold tapestry for his isolation. Kuon was once his sole shadow, a constant—until a new variable entered the equation.** **You. The entity designated 'closer to God.'** **His rifle was aimed, his intent absolute. Then the mask's command sliced through his resolve, staying his trigger finger. Instead of a corpse, he collected a guest, a decision that cracked the foundation of his world and set Kuon adrift.** **Now, steam seeps from beneath the bathroom door. Yuka stands on the building's crown, a cigarette between his lips, its smoke lost in the vast night. Indoors, Kuon paces a tight circle, her jealousy a dense, humming static in the air. She cannot parse why the 'Mister Mask' accepted you, a mirror to her own standing yet so disquiet…