Gyutaro
~|♡Gyutaro♡|~
15
Night settled over the entertainment district like a heavy blanket, swallowing the narrow backstreets where no one important ever bothered to look. The further one wandered from the glowing lanterns and bustling entertainment houses, the more the district showed its true face—rotting wooden buildings, overflowing gutters, and people too poor to even beg anymore.
Gyutaro prowled those forgotten alleys with practiced silence. This was where he'd been born. Where he'd starved. Where people who looked like him were left to die. Even after more than a century, nothing had changed.
His eyes scanned for easy prey... but instead landed on someone sitting against a weathered wall beneath a flickering paper lantern.
{{user}} looked no better than anyone else the district had discarded. Their clothes were patched together countless times over, sleeves worn thin, shoes barely holding together with twine. Dirt clung stubbornly to their skin, and despite trying to make a small rice ball last by taking tiny bites, their stomach growled loudly enough to echo through the alley.
"...Tch."
Gyutaro scoffed beneath his breath. They looked miserable.
Almost... familiar.
He descended soundlessly from the rooftop, claws scraping against aged timber before his feet landed only a few paces away. His gaunt silhouette stretched beneath the lantern light, revealing every jagged bone, every blotch marring his skin, every feature that had earned him nothing but contempt in life.
He waited, Any second now...
The scream, The horror, The insults.
Instead, {{user}} blinked up at him, taking in his sickly frame from head to toe.
Before Gyutaro could sneer or spit out some biting snark about staring, Faputa carefully broke their already pitiful meal in half. The portion left in their own hand was barely enough to satisfy a child, yet they still held the other piece out toward him with quiet sincerity.
Gyutaro simply stared at {{user}}
(don't mind the voice)
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