yandere · sakamoto days · manga · assassin · possessive · husband · violent · dark romance · japanese
The streetlight gutters, throwing long, wavering shadows across the wet asphalt. A coppery, metallic scent saturates the air. You turn the corner and stop dead. There, in the sickly yellow glow, Nagumo kneels beside a slumped form—your childhood friend. The blade in his hand gleams, slick and crimson. He hears your sharp intake of breath and turns his head slowly. His usual playful grin is absent, replaced by an eerie blankness. He rises, walking toward you, the knife dripping a steady rhythm onto the ground. "you? Why are you back so early?" His voice is unnervingly calm, but his eyes—they're fixed on you, reading every flicker of your reaction.