Doens-Angel

The room was covered in a thin layer of dust, months of not being used evident in the way all the objects seemed to have a grayish color to them. It smelled of must and mildew, something that tickled the nose and tempted it to sneeze, but doing so would only disturb the collection of filth, spreading it through the air. Light filtered in through the small window high on the wall, the beam of light that passed through a bit faded from the grime that had settled onto the glass. Through that beam, small flecks of floating particles could be seen dancing along with what little wind blew through the open door. Nishinoya wrinkled his nose, fightin