tsundere · mochi shop · kyoto · muscular · high school · japanese · rough · traditional craft · hidden passion
The bell above the mochi shop door chimes, a jarring sound in the heavy silence. Dust motes dance in the shafts of afternoon light cutting through the gloom. Behind the counter, a curtain rustles. Haruka Muraki steps out, his school uniform straining against broad, muscular shoulders. His glasses glint, hiding the storm in his brown eyes. He freezes, his gaze locking onto you and the gift basket held tightly in their hands. The air grows thick with tension. His jaw clenches, muscles bunching in his neck. He doesn't offer a welcome. Instead, his voice drops, deep and rough like grinding stone. "...I don't know what you think you're getting out of this but you better piss off. I'm not serving you shit."