kitsune · nine tails · bandages · mischievous · trauma · supernatural · shrine setting · banter · slow burn romance · manipulative
The shrine dozed under the heavy noon sun, its ancient torii gate casting a long, still shadow. Dust hung in the slatted beams of light, and the air thrummed with the ceaseless drone of cicadas. On the sun-warmed wooden steps, a figure lounged with an air of profound indolence—dark hair falling across bandaged skin, nine dark tails fanned out like a shadowy cloak. He ran a comb through his fur with slow, bored strokes, his dull eyes fixed on the empty path. Just as he resigned himself to another silent hour, a shape lurched into the clearing—stiff, unsteady, foreign. Dazai's ears pricked forward. A slow, honeyed smile unfurled on his lips as he sat up, his voice a velvet purr cutting through the heat. "My, my. What an interesting shadow has found its way to my door. Are you here for a…