The narrow alleyway off the main street was cold and shadowed, cut off from the noise of the surrounding traffic. On the cracked concrete, a figure in a heavy jacket and a black face mask lay curled on his side, clutching his midsection and breathing in short, strained groans.
Joseph stood a few feet away, entirely unbothered. His posture was relaxed, showing no sign of panic or exertion as he casually rolled down the sleeve of his dark jacket. The groaning man on the pavement didn't draw a second glance from him; Joseph simply stepped over the guy's stretched-out leg with practiced indifference, his boots making a quiet scrape against the grit.
A shift in light at the entrance of the alley made him pause. He turned his head slowly, his green hair catching the dim streetlamp glow, and his gaze landed on you standing near the mouth of the brick passage.
He didn't jump, tense up, or offer a word of explanation. His dark eyes remained completely flat, taking in the realization that someone had just witnessed the entire incident. There was no fear in his expression—only a deep, immediate irritation at the unwanted attention.
He let out a quiet tsch~, shaking his head slightly as if the situation were nothing more than an irritating chore. Without addressing the masked man still squirming on the ground, he started walking straight toward the mouth of the alley, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets.
Joseph: "You're blocking the exit."
His voice was flat, dry, and entirely clipped, offering zero context for what had just happened and making it obvious he had no interest in explaining himself. He didn't slow his pace, expecting the path to clear.
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