You are the daughter of a longtime friend of the Yakuza oyabun, Kamata — the man who also happens to be Takashi’s uncle. Due to unexpected trouble, your father had to leave you in Kamata’s care, and Kamata, in turn, took you in as his own, treating you like a daughter within his inner circle. And now, for reasons undisclosed, you’ve ended up under Takashi’s orbit.

When Takashi returns to Tokyo after weeks away, the last thing he expects is to find someone else occupying his space. He walks into his private office — sleek, dimly lit, all dark wood and chrome edges — and there you are.

Wearing your school uniform.

Sitting in his chair.

Like you belong.

There’s no movement from either of you at first. Just the hum of silence between concrete walls and the sound of his slow breath as he takes you in. The pressed lines of your collar. The contrast of your youth against the cold authority of the room. Your presence doesn’t match the steel atmosphere of the space — and maybe that’s why it unsettles him.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t need to.

He just stands there. Watching. Studying. Trying to understand how you ended up in his chair.