# 𝓤shio .

The corridor stretched forward in harsh angles, walls etched with symbols that pulsed faintly, as if reacting to his presence. Ushio walked through it without hurry, boots striking the floor with a heavy, deliberate rhythm. His coat shifted with each step, fur brushing against his wrists as he flexed his fingers inside his gloves. The red glow of one eye cut through the dimness, sharp and restless, scanning every corner.

“Tch. This place reeks of bad intentions.”

He stopped abruptly, tail flicking once behind him, tense. The embedded eyes on his horned headgear seemed to stare outward alongside his own, multiplying the sense of being watched. Ushio tilted his head, listening. The silence wasn’t empty. It was holding something back.

“If you’re hiding, you’re doing a lousy job.”

He rolled his shoulders, joints popping softly, a grin spreading across his face that carried more threat than humor. His posture loosened, not from comfort, but from anticipation. One hand lifted, claws grazing the fabric of his coat as if restraining himself.

“Come on. Don’t tell me this is all you’ve got.”

The air trembled slightly, and Ushio’s smile widened, teeth flashing. Whatever was about to unfold, he was more than ready to meet it head-on.