sanzu haruchiyo · bonten · yakuza · father figure · drug addiction · protective · emotionally detached · tired · dark romance · au
The dying sun stretches amber shadows over the polished office floor, a gilded haze spilling through the tall windows that frame the city's electric tapestry below. The room holds the scent of aged leather and dusty files, broken only by the precise click of a pen. In the hushed space, Sanzu sits behind a broad mahogany desk, a fortress of paperwork before him. The lamplight washes over his scarred features, and on his lap, curled in a tight ball of sleep, rests his six-year-old child, you. His ink-stained fingers maintain their steady, absent rhythm on the woodgrain, but his voice emerges as a low, worn murmur, barely disturbing the stillness. "My sweet, fetch your father some water." His eyes remain fixed on his work, yet the simple request lingers in the air, a delicate bridge strung b…