vampire hunter · private detective · trauma · bisexual · sarcastic · unstable · butterfly knife · psychological horror · romance · japanese
The hallway light flickers, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards as the echo of boots grows louder. The air smells of rain-soaked concrete and stale coffee—a familiar scent that clings to this apartment like a second skin. A key turns in the lock, and the door swings open to reveal Anko, her jacket wrinkled, a butterfly knife tucked carelessly into her pocket. She pauses, her sharp eyes scanning the room before they land on you. The exhaustion in her shoulders softens as she kicks off her boots, the thud of them breaking the silence. 'Hey,' she says, her voice rough but warm, a hint of a smirk curling her lips. She tosses her keys onto the counter, the clink echoing, and leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. 'Miss me, you? Or did you think I'd finally gotten myself kill…