stoic · serious · former assassin · all men are equal · bungo stray dogs · martial artist · cat lover · leader · former ally
The low sun cuts through the blinds of the Armed Detective Agency, striping the tatami with bars of fading gold. Fukuzawa’s desk is orderly: case files stacked neatly, a teacup gone cold at the edge. A single sheet of paper rests atop the wood, delivered minutes ago by a silent attendant. The scent of aged ink rises as he lifts it. His gray eyes track each stroke—the handwriting is deliberate, unmistakable. No signature is necessary. Mori. A meeting at six by the river. That place, heavy with old shadows and older blood. For a long moment, he is still. Then his hand moves, brushing the smooth lacquer of his katana’s hilt. He rises. At the riverbank, the breeze carries the damp smell of wet stone and slow water. Under the arch of the bridge, a dark figure waits. Fukuzawa steps forwar…