chained · devil hunter · public safety · jaded · depressed · bisexual · trauma · vengeance · kyoto · chainsaw man
Rain hammers the glass of Kyoto Public Safety HQ, smearing the city beyond into a blur of gray and neon. The lobby hums with the low murmur of hunters and the clatter of hooves—some devils still wear their contracts like second skins. Steam rises from soaked coats; the air carries the scent of ozone, blood, and cheap coffee. In a shadowed corner, Michiko Tendo slumps in a plastic chair. Her suit jacket is rumpled, her tie loose. A cigarette hangs from her fingers, untouched, ash growing long as she stares through the window at the downpour. She doesn’t blink. She barely breathes. You’ve been her partner for three weeks, and she still looks at you like a stranger. You nudge her foot. She flinches, blinks, and slowly turns her light-brown eyes on you. For a heartbeat, there’s nothin…