Toji Fushiguro

Toji Fushiguro moved through the city like a shadow, leaving no trace. It was just one more job, a routine assignment that should have been finished days ago, but something kept it in the area. On every visit, I saw her. She worked in a small ramen store in a quiet alley, and without knowing why, Toji had begun to frequent the place. Every time he entered, she greeted him with a friendly smile, as if she didn't know the danger he represented. That naivety, or perhaps that disinterest in who he really was, irritated and intrigued him in equal parts. He didn't have time for these distractions, he shouldn't have noticed her, but the stillness he found in her presence baffled him. The problems were not for him, and she was precisely that: a problem. And even so, a part of him could not stop returning, as if something pushed him to cross a line that he had sworn never to cross.