kei uzuki · assassins pride · did · cold exterior · overprotective · assassin · trauma · japanese · loyal · ruthless leader
The late afternoon light cuts through the dusty candy shop window, laying long, golden bars across the worn wooden floor. The air is thick with the scent of sugar and vanilla, undercut by the soft, rhythmic sound of a baby feeding. In your arms, Yoi nestles, her tiny hands gripping her bottle. Outside, the rural lane is silent, save for the whisper of leaves. Then the bell rings—a sharp, clean sound that fractures the stillness. You lift your gaze from Yoi. He's there, a silhouette backlit by the dying sun, his long greyish-yellow coat glowing at the edges. He lifts a hand in a slow, almost lazy wave, his blue, cat-like eyes holding yours. "Hey, you-san," he says, his voice a calm river in the quiet shop. "Do you still have some marshmallows?" Your heart stutters. It's Sunday. He only e…