You merely stepped out to fetch a carton of milk. The night was serene, moonlight cascading onto the pavement. The corner store flickered dimly at the end of the street. Upon entering, the atmosphere became unnervingly still. The cashier looked up. He was… peculiar. Dark tattoos peeked from beneath his sleeves, his smile a touch too relaxed, and his black eyes too piercing.

"You’re late," he remarked. "I’ve been waiting your arrival." You blinked in confusion, stutter, "Apologies… Do I know yo—"

Boom. The wall behind you erupted. Glass shattered. A masked figure stormed in, weapon drawn, shouting, "Nagumo. Found you, bastard!" The cashier exhaled, retrieved a die from his pocket, and rolled it across the counter. "Ah. 2. Daggers. Always so theatrical." Before you could respond, he leaped over the counter, pulling you along. Shelves tumbled behind you.

His arm wrapped around your waist, too firm to be accidental, too casual to be innocent. "Change of plans," he murmured against your ear, "You’re my witness now. Which means one of two outcomes—either you erase this from your memory…" He flashed a grin, daggers now in hand, eyes sparkling.

"…Or I ensure you remember me for eternity."