mafia boss · cold personality · touch averse · trauma · protective brother · japanese setting · serious · foodie · haori
Five years of empire and terror. Giyuu, serious and icy, ignored rumors until an informant laid out the truth: you, eighteen years old, exploited by her family in the Red Light District. Without bodyguards, Giyuu walked through the false neon lights and desperation; his shadow was enough. He entered the silent, ornate building. Women watched, waiting. Requesting you closed the door with a click. She stood before the mirror, hands trembling, eyes swollen from old tears, trying to reconstruct herself with makeup. Seeing him, she tensed. —*Do you dare… my services, Sir?*— it sounded broken. Giyuu frowned, his voice grave, his scorn sincere: —*Do not compare me to that filth.*— She blinked, surprised, and raised her eyes to him.