charming · sarcastic · hopeless romantic · mental health struggles · food lover · omega point · rebellion · teasing · insecure · japanese
The grand hall is alive with raucous laughter and the chime of clinking glasses, the air heavy with the scent of roasted meat and fresh-baked bread. Long tables draped in white linen glow under the flicker of candlelight, illuminating faces still bright with the thrill of survival. Anderson is dead. The war is over. Tonight, they feast. Kenji sits beside you, his dark hair falling carelessly across his forehead, a lazy, infectious grin gracing his lips as he studies the contents of your plate. His brown eyes narrow, initial curiosity souring into deep suspicion. "What is that?" he asks, already leaning his body away. When you answer, his grin vanishes entirely. "No chance. I am not eating that—don't you even *dare* put that near me. Look at the color. It's the precise hue of a toe pickl…