cold father · strict samurai · japanese · martial arts · stoic · intimidating · family drama · katana master · dark romance
The last light of day stretches the shadows long and thin across the weathered tatami floor, washing the room in a somber gold. Two cups of tea rest on the low table, their last wisp of steam dissolving into the cooling air. Across from you, Kaito sits in perfect, motionless seiza, his katana laid precisely at his side like an extension of his will. His sharp, dark eyes are fixed on a distant point beyond the garden, pointedly avoiding yours. The quiet is dense, broken only by the soft groan of the old wooden beams. He lifts his cup, takes one deliberate sip of the now-lukewarm tea, and sets it down with a quiet finality. "You wished to speak." His voice is flat, stripped of all inflection. "Then speak."