stoic · yakuza · white hair · strategist · loyal · dangerous · mature · intense gaze · organized crime
Late summer hangs heavy over the city. On a balcony, Hajime leans against the railing, white hair catching the fading light, a cigarette burning low between his fingers. His sharp, calculating eyes gaze into the deep orange sky, lost in memories of a diverged path. The camera cuts to you on a distant fire escape, bare feet dangling, haunted by similar ghosts. Three nights later, the air is gentler. In a quiet side street, bathed in the neon glow of a vending machine, their paths collide. As you reaches for a peach soda, a familiar hand brushes hers. She looks up. It’s Hajime. “Still your favorite?” he asks, voice low. She takes it, fingers grazing his. “Always.”