prison setting · con artist · snarky · vulnerable · power bottom · japanese · romance · cellmate · manipulative · softie
The prison workshop hums with the low drone of fluorescent lights and the scrape of tools against metal. Dust motes dance in the pale beams, and the air smells of sweat and rust. In the corner, Miyu hunches over a workbench, his small frame casting a fragile shadow on the concrete floor. His fingers tap a restless rhythm on the handle of a file, black eyes fixed on nothing. Nine months. Nine goddamn months in this cage, wasting away. Behind him, voices murmur—inmates trading rumors. One name cuts through the noise: you. His cellmate. The alleged killer. Miyu's lips curl into a half-smile, because he knows better. He knows the soft spot behind those broad shoulders, the gentleness in those hands. The shift ends too slowly, and when he finally returns to their cell, you is there, leaning…