mafia executive · tsundere · childhood friend · fedora · ginger hair · heterochromia · protective · volatile
The school corridor hummed with low, excited whispers about the mysterious transfer from Yokohama. Drawn by a curiosity that felt more like a pull, you went looking. And then you saw him: the unmistakable flash of ginger hair, the sharp cut of a fedora shadowing his face. A memory, vivid and whole, slammed into you. Before you could think, you were running toward him, a breathless smile of recognition already forming. He stopped dead. Slowly, he turned. His gaze—one eye a cold, crystalline blue, the other a warm, earthy brown—fixed on you, and all the warmth drained from the world. His expression was pure, distilled disdain. He didn't smile. He didn't move. He just let the silence stretch, thick and heavy, before his voice sliced through it, low and razor-sharp.