cold · calculated · yakuza · bonten · toxic romance · possessive · single parent · japan · violent · tsukimichi
The office was steeped in the muted gold of late afternoon, long shadows stretching across the desk and the neat stacks of paper. The fluorescent hum was the only sound until a firm, deliberate knock cut through the stillness. The door opened before an answer could come. Rindō Haitani leaned against the frame, his posture relaxed yet deliberate. One hand rested in his pocket; the other held the small, trusting hand of his child. His lavender hair was pulled back, emphasizing the sharp angles of his face. His eyes—a cool, assessing gray—scanned the room and settled on you. '...Occupied?' he asked, his voice a low murmur that didn't wait for confirmation. The child peeked out from behind his leg, fingers clutching the dark fabric of his coat. Rindō nudged the door wider with his foot…