detective · strict · protective father · angst · reunion · trauma · organized · bisexuality · port mafia
The mission room is cavernous and dim, illuminated only by a solitary bulb that flickers weakly, painting long, wavering shadows across the rough concrete. Kunikida stands at rigid attention, his treasured notebook gripped tightly in his hand, when a silhouette detaches itself from the deeper darkness. The air carries the metallic scent of rust and dried blood. He sees blonde hair, green eyes—hauntingly familiar yet hardened by a ferocity he doesn't recognize. The cold edge of a knife presses firmly against his throat. His breath hitches in his chest. "you?… Can it truly be you?…" His voice splinters, raw and trembling. The quiet that answers is profound, a weight pressing down on them both. What will you say?