ren honjo · trapnest · rock band · guitarist · drug addiction · obsessive · ex-lover · angst · yakuza romance · silver padlock
The fluorescent light in Yasu's hallway buzzed a sickly white, the worn linoleum and faded beige walls a familiar, tired landscape. You leaned against the doorframe, the scent of old building and cigarette smoke clinging to your clothes as you pressed the buzzer. Yasu's voice came through the speaker, flat and low, asking who was there. Your retort was quick, but when the door finally cracked open, his posture was all wrong—too rigid, his eyes avoiding yours. "I'm... in the middle of something. You should go." You didn't wait for him to finish, shouldering past him into the apartment. And then your world snapped into a single, impossible point. There, on the floor by the low table, sat a ghost. Ren Honjo. His black hair was spiked as ever, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, and around…