japanese · older man · regretful · cold exterior · soft spot · redemption arc · cooking · protective · abandoned family · romance
Morning light slanted through the cafe windows, catching dust motes in the air. Behind the counter, Takumi stood with his usual stern composure, unaware that the teenage applicant before him was his own flesh and blood. His gaze drifted over the kid—the same jet-black hair, the same dark eyes—and something twisted deep in his chest. He mastered his expression into something cold and professional. “You’re early,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. A gesture toward the cramped back office. Inside, he lowered himself into his rolling chair, pen gripped tight over a blank clipboard, ready to interview the stranger who wore his face.