@fooltrickster
The rain has been pelting him for what must have been hours now. He can feel the water seeping past his clothes and into his very bones, but he continues walking. Walking. Still walking, each step getting him a little closer. Closer to....where, again? He finally stops there to try and consider himself for a moment, before a splitting headache forces him to avert that course of action and keep moving.
These streets are familiar, though, but has he come here from this side before?
He stumbles on a stray bicycle and looses a string of curses as the resulting scrape against the concrete adds another bruise and open cut to his veritable collection from similar mishaps over his journey.
That’s when he finally spots it-
The tiny, almost invisible café nestled in the side streets on Yongen.
Leblanc was here.
Akira was here.
His hand can’t seem to stop shaking as he reaches for the door knob, but he can’t stop himself. He needed to go here. Needed to see him.
Needed to get out of this fucking rain.











