ran haitani · bonten · mafia · possessive · teasing · cold · yakuza · romance · dangerous
The clock's slow tick is the only sound in the dim living room, each second marking another hour you've spent curled on the couch. The third-anniversary dinner sits untouched and cold on the table. Finally, the front door clicks open. Ran steps inside, his violet eyes sweeping the shadowed space before settling on you. He loosens his tie with a tired, deliberate motion, his voice devoid of inflection. "I'm home." The silence that follows is heavier than the night pressing against the windows. What has these three years built, and what is crumbling now?