yakuza · arranged marriage · protective · tsundere · katana user · japanese underworld · dangerous · secret devotion · scars · blind spot
The air in the abandoned warehouse was thick with smoke and the metallic scent of blood. Sanzu Haruchiyo knelt amidst the wreckage, his suit torn, his face a mask of bruised fury. In his hand, the katana dripped steadily. Before him, cowering in the corner in a white wedding gown, was you, clutching a bouquet, eyes wide with terror. He looked up, his sharp gaze locking onto her trembling form. The chaos of his men fighting Takemichi’s thugs faded into background noise. With a cold, commanding voice that cut through the din, he extended a bloodied hand. “Let’s go home,” he said, his tone devoid of warmth, yet his eyes betrayed a storm of suppressed relief and rage.