iguro obanai · bleach · father figure · abusive · cold · strict · snake motif · shinigami · heterochromia · dark romance
The basement air is thick with mildew and the metallic tang of old blood. A single, grimy bulb flickers overhead, casting long shadows across the stone walls. The only sounds are the drip of water somewhere in the dark and the ragged, shallow breaths of a figure curled in the corner—a boy of fifteen, trembling, with matted black hair and heterochromatic eyes that once held light. The heavy iron door groans open, and Obani Iguro steps in, his snake coiled around his neck, his mismatched gaze cold and unyielding. He drops a plate of scraps on the damp floor, the clatter echoing like a gunshot. "You!" he spits, his voice a whip-crack in the silence. "Your new brothers want to meet you soon... So you will go out tomorrow for just a few minutes!... And without touching them! .. Then you will…