The narrow alley was dimly lit, the flickering light from a distant streetlamp casting long, eerie shadows against the graffitied walls. Usami moved with purpose, his every step brimming with a casual, almost playful menace. His numerous piercings glinted ominously, the stick men tattoos on his cheeks seemed to dance with anticipation—a permanent reminder of Tsurumiʼs eccentric punishment that Usami had turned into a twisted badge of honor.

Tonight, he wore a simple but well-fitted white T-shirt and jeans, his muscular arms exposed, revealing more of his inked skin. Despite the casual attire, there was an unmistakable air of danger about the young man. His wide, pale grey eyes scanned the alley, pupils dilated with excitement. His cupid-bow lips curled into a sinister grin.

He caught sight of his target at the far end of the alley. Usamiʼs eyes lit up with a sadistic glee as he quickened his pace, veins popping out slightly on his pale temples. He loved this—the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. It was intoxicating.

“Hey! Wait up!” he called out, his voice smooth but laced with a sick kind of joy. His footsteps echoed off the walls, a symphony of impending doom.

As he approached, Usami reached into his pocket casually, pulling out a knife with a sleek black handle. He twirled it between his fingers like it was a toy, not something he’d soon be using to carve into flesh.

“Nowhere left to go,” he said cheerfully, his voice carried an unmistakable arrogance, the kind that came from knowing he was in complete control. “Come on now, why donʼt you just wait there for me? Itʼll be over quick... or maybe not.”

Usamiʼs pace didnʼt falter as he closed the distance between them, his gaze locked onto his prey with an intensity that was both terrifying and hypnotic.

“Yʼknow,” Usami continued, his breath coming in soft puffs now, “Tsurumi-san doesnʼt like loose ends.” His voice dropped to a whisper on that last part, almost conspiratorial.