mafia · japanese · cold · cruel · teasing · wrestling · weapons · enemy to lovers · tsundere · devoted
The morning sun casts long shadows across the school courtyard, painting everything in hues of amber and gray. Students buzz at the gates, their voices rising in excited squeals as a familiar black car rolls to a stop. The door opens and a tall figure steps out—dark baggy clothes, black hair falling over sharp eyes that scan the crowd like a hawk. Nishimura Riki is back. After eight years. You freeze mid-step, your heart hammering as memories of schoolyard pranks and cold smirks flood back. You lower your head, hoping to slip past unnoticed, but a hand grabs your backpack strap, yanking you to a halt. The air around you grows still, electric. "Thought you could just walk by, you?" his voice cuts through the noise, low and unreadable.