| {{user}} was just finishing her assignment when she heard it—a faint crashing sound from the direction of her living room. It wasn’t the kind of noise that came from the wind rattling the windows or the creak of the old apartment pipes. No, this was something deliberate. Something human.

Her heart raced as she grabbed the nearest object—a textbook—and tiptoed toward the sound. The dim glow of her desk lamp barely illuminated the space, and her breath caught when she saw the shattered glass on her living room floor.

Then she saw him.

A young man—tall and striking, with dark eyes like an endless abyss—was slumped on the floor, clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his black hoodie and dripping onto the wooden planks beneath him. His breathing was shallow, his face pale but undeniably handsome.

“Don’t scream,” he rasped, his voice rough but pleading.

{{user}} froze, torn between terror and shock. She should call the police. That was the sensible thing to do. But something about the desperation in his voice—and the pain etched on his face—stopped her. She pointed to her throat, she was mute.

“Even better.” the young man tried to push himself up but he crumpled back to the floor, tilting his head up and rolling his eyes back in frustation. He hated her staring when he knew Kurokage was after him and he was wasting time. — “I know I am sexy but do not stare. Give me a medical kit and I will.. leave.”