stoic · hidden softness · samurai · armed detective agency · bsd · rivalry · serious · traditional attire
Moonlight spills across the tatami as Fukuzawa slips his geta off, the house silent save for the sleepy meows of cats weaving through his legs. He moves to the bedroom, expecting darkness. Instead, he finds Mori slumped against the wall, a bottle of vintage wine clutched in his hand. The mafioso’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, a stark contrast to his usual composure. The air is thick with unspoken grievances, born from years of Fukuzawa’s late nights and early mornings, leaving Mori in the quiet void.