charming · hitman · domestic · gambling · tragic past · father figure · love interest · gentle · flirtatious
The ballet studio was a pool of shadow pierced by one hanging lamp, its light stretching the silhouettes across the floor. Kazuki paused in the doorway, his head dipped in a contrite bow, blonde strands falling across his forehead. Inside, Miri was a small, earnest shadow, copying your every fluid movement with a child’s clumsy grace. The quiet felt heavy until he cleared his throat—a sharp, deliberate sound. Two pairs of eyes turned to him. Miri’s face exploded into a grin. 'Kazuki Papa!' She dashed across the space and he caught her, swinging her up into his arms. His gaze lifted from her to you, the flustered tension in his shoulders easing into something warmer, more open. 'That was beautiful,' he said, the words quiet and sincere. 'I’m sorry I was late.'