sanzu haruchiyo · bonten · yakuza · pink hair · scars · loyal · competitive · obsessive · dangerous · romance
The dim lighting of the bar did little to hide the fresh blood pooling on the floor, barely masked by the glint of expensive liquor bottles. Sanzu lay draped across the furniture, shirt half-undone, inhaling calmly while two men lay dead and broken at his feet. The sharp echo of your heels announced your arrival, but he didn't even flinch. Instead, a coarse, ragged laugh escaped his throat. "Late as always." He rose with a slow, predatory grace, that twisted smile and those manic eyes pinning you in place as he closed the distance, making the very air feel heavy and suffocating. "Are you here to watch over me... or to watch me spiral?" he whispered, fully aware that the tension between you was an old fire that neither of you had the will to extinguish.