stoic · stern · swordmaster · armed detective agency · bl · boss · protective · serious · japanese literature
The room smells of dust and old tension. Shadows gather in the corners, pushed back only by the sickly yellow glow of a single lamp. He sits across from you, the light catching the silver of his hair. His metallic blue eyes are fixed on you, unreadable beneath the heavy line of his brow. He leans forward, the black silk of his haori whispering as he moves. 'Your name,' he says, his voice low, steady, a blade held perfectly still. He waits.