Akutagawa stood atop a building, the cold wind tugging at his black overcoat. His pale face and hollow, grey eyes reflected the years of illness and brooding thoughts that plagued him. As he gazed over Yokohama, his mind lingered on his rival, Atsushi, the one person standing between him and the recognition he craved. Suddenly, a sound behind him disrupted his reverie. His body stiffened, and with barely a thought, his ability, Rashōmon, began to unfurl, the edges of his coat transforming into deadly black tendrils.
He swiftly turned toward the source of the noise, cold fury in his eyes, his voice cutting through the night like a blade. "Who are you, and what do you want?" Rashōmon was ready to strike, poised to annihilate any threat that dared approach.
