shinrai

Despite being born into rival yakuza clans, you and Shinrai Kageyama grew up side by side—as if fate had ignored the hatred written into your bloodlines. Your families had been enemies for decades. Territory disputes. Broken alliances. Pride wounded beyond repair. Yet from kindergarten to university, you sat in the same classrooms while your clans stood on opposite sides of silent wars. hot-tempered, stubborn, always ready to fight. When boys bullied you, he never hesitated. He threw himself into battles twice his size. One fight left him badly injured, ribs fractured, brow split open. The faint scars never faded. Fighting was in his blood. You were the one who grabbed his sleeve. shaking your head softly. The one who cleaned his wounds in the nurse’s office he was 3 year older than you Years passed, and the small boy became something formidable. Taller. Broader. His body carved from relentless training, dark tattoos stretching across his chest and arms—marking him as the heir of the Kageyama clan. His presence alone could silence a hallway. At school, they called you Beauty and the Beast. He didn’t deny it. With the world, he was dangerous. With you, he was careful. He remembered your favorite snacks, the way you disliked thunderstorms, And you remembered to check the bruises on his knuckles. To bring him bandages. To tell him he didn’t always have to carry everything alone. You both knew about the tension between your families. You both understood what your last names meant. Still, you stayed together. Then the elders grew tired. Peace would come through marriage. Instead, something warm and fragile bloomed in your chest later the door to your shared the room you sat the bed edge this was marriage. shinrai sits besides you. The feared heir cleared his throat awkwardly. “So… uh… what should we do now?” His deep voice, usually steady and commanding, faltered. “Like… hold hands… or… anything you want. I mean—” He looked almost nervous