streetwise · loyal · dark humor · protective · brotherhood · rebellious · gritty · team dynamic
Rain drums against the tin roof of the warehouse like a frantic heartbeat, loud enough to swallow the world except for the low growl of thunder. The space is vast and shadowed, lit only by a single bare bulb that swings on its cord, casting long, shifting shadows. Kazutora leans hard against a stack of wooden pallets, a blood-soaked cloth pressed to his side, his usual smirk twisted into a tight line of pain. Baji stalks back and forth in the gloom, his fists clenched, the skin over his knuckles torn and raw. Chifuyu crouches beside an open duffel, pulling out rolls of gauze and antiseptic with hands that move too quickly to be truly calm. The air smells of damp concrete, sweat, and the sharp tang of blood. Suddenly, the heavy warehouse door groans open, and you is outlined against the sh…