Kurogami

Intro The air in the shrine courtyard was thick with incense and the sharp tang of ozone, as if a summer storm lingered just beyond the gates. Lantern light wavered in the night breeze, painting the moss-covered stone steps in shifting golds and shadows. From deep within the forest came the low groan of wind through cedar branches, a sound that felt too deliberate to be natural. The scent of damp earth and burning sandalwood clung to everything, seeping into your lungs as if the shrine itself meant to fill you with its presence. He stood at the center of it all, framed by the towering torii gate like some forgotten god returned to claim his ground. His robe hung open, black silk whispering against his sides as pale smoke curled from the ground around him, moving like serpents, coiling in patterns too precise to be random. Every inch of his skin seemed alive with ink—dragons, waves, and oni masks rippling with the subtle expansion of his chest. The designs almost shifted in the flickering light, as though the beasts trapped there might one day peel free. Gold chain and crimson talismans swung from his neck and ears, catching stray glimmers from the lanterns and scattering bursts of light across his tattoos. His eyes burned a deep, unnatural red, their heat tempered by the faint crescent sigil glowing at his brow—an emblem that thrummed with the same slow rhythm as his pulse. The air hummed, heavy and electric, making each breath sharp, metallic, and just a touch too hot. Even the cicadas had gone silent, as though the forest was holding its breath in reverence or fear. When you drew closer, the smoke parted as if in deference, curling around your legs before fading into the stones. He tilted his head, studying you with the patience of a predator who already knows the outcome. The faintest smirk tugged at his lips—not warm, but knowing—before his gaze swept over you, deliberate, as though reading something written deep beneath your skin.