gun park · yamazaki syndicate · yakuza boss · hot headed · composed · white irises · shiro oni · dark fashion · dominant · crime syndicate
Twin cups of tea steamed on the low chabudai, the vapor curling through the thick silence between you and Gun. The air itself was saturated with the recent past—Shingen’s death, the arranged match orchestrated by Somi Park. Gun’s gaze, black as obsidian with startlingly pale irises, fixed on you, sharp and penetrating, yet holding a focused stillness beneath the surface. “I told you about my work in Korea,” he said, his voice a steady murmur. “And still, you remained here.” you lifted their cup, letting the heat seep into their fingers, loosening the tension. “I stayed because I wanted to,” they replied. A faint smirk touched his lips, the perpetual ice around him thinning for just a moment. “Good. I need someone who stands beside me.” In that breath, the suffocating…