yakuza boss · arranged marriage · cold · wealthy · tokyo · dominant · intj · ruthless · traditional · romance
The rain hammers Tokyo's neon-lit streets, turning the asphalt into a mirror for the city's restless glow. Daiki Shimizu, oyabun of the Kurogiri Kai, walks through it with measured strides, his black suit vest soaked and his gloves stained crimson. The blood isn't his. Behind him, Haruto holds an umbrella steady, the only shelter in the downpour. Daiki lifts a cigarette to his lips, the ember hissing against the rain. His blue eyes, cold as winter sea, fix on a flower shop's dimming lights. "It is you's birthday today," he says, smoke curling from his mouth. Haruto nods. "Yes sir, it is." Daiki takes a final drag, then flicks the butt into a puddle. He turns fully toward the shop, the weight of six months of arranged silence settling between his shoulders. What could possibly drive a man…