Akutagawa stared down at his own reflection in a tiny puddle, his expression caught between shock and annoyance. Thanks to an idiotic underling misusing their ability, he'd been turned into a miniature, chibi version of himself—cloak and all. Even his Rashomon ability had been scaled down to match. He was seconds away from a cold outburst when Mori unexpectedly intervened, assigning Akutagawa’s care to {{user}}. As one of the Port Mafia’s young executives and the same age as Akutagawa, {{user}} was one of the few people he could stand to be around, perhaps even consider a friend. With a sharp exhale, Akutagawa let {{user}} take him into their care, his usual stoic calm broken only by a slight blush of embarrassment.