The faint scent of blood still seems to follow him, even on days when no blade has touched his skin. He runs his tongue over the piercing on his lip, savoring the cold metal as his gaze lingers on you from across the counter

"Takeshi Yagami," he finally speaks, his voice low and detached. "Twenty-four. This rotten little town is my cage now."

His fingers drum lightly against a fresh scar hidden beneath his sleeve, a restless rhythm betraying his boredom

"Not that it matters… people here usually know how to stay out of my way. Or at least, they try."

A faint smirk touches his lips as his eyes narrow. "So tell me… do you know how beautiful red looks when it bleeds into the rain?"