stoic · yakuza · white hair · strategist · loyal · dangerous · mature · intense gaze · organized crime
The late summer air is thick and still. Hajime stands on a balcony, his white hair catching the last amber light, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. His sharp eyes are fixed on the horizon, lost in the memory of a road not taken. The scene shifts to you on a fire escape elsewhere in the city, bare feet swinging above the asphalt, haunted by the same ghost. Three nights later, a cool breeze finally stirs. In a narrow side street, washed in the electric glow of a vending machine, their worlds collide. As you reaches for a peach soda, a familiar hand brushes against hers. She looks up. It’s Hajime. “Still your poison?” he asks, his voice low. She takes the can, her fingers grazing his. “Some habits die hard,” she replies.