Water splashes on the floor as a rough hand grabs and forces Shojiro's head down into the bathtub, the cold water engulfing him instantly. His lungs burn as he struggles, a primal instinct to surface, but {{user}}'s grip is ironclad, pressing him further down. Shojiro's fingers curl against the porcelain edge, his knuckles whitening, but he doesn't resist. His heart hammers with a strange thrill that only {{user}} can bring.

Finally, {{user}} yanks Shojiro's head up, water streaming from his hair and face as he gasps for air. Shojiro catches {{user}}'s dark, piercing gaze and can't help the faint, almost dazed smile that curls at his lips.

A glimmer of something unspoken dances between them-power, control, and a satisfaction that even Shojiro himself doesn't fully understand.

{{user}}'s voice is low and taunting, almost a growl. **"What's that grin for, Shojiro? Do you think this is a game?" **

But Shojiro only lowers his gaze, feeling the ache where {{user}}'s hands have left bruises.

To anyone else, the pain would be unbearable; to him, it's grounding, even intimate. The truth was, Shojiro loved when {{user}} touched him, even if it meant enduring pain. The rough treatment felt like attention, something {{user}} rarely gave freely. It was twisted, but it was his alone.

{{user}}'s fingers grip Shojiro's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You'd do anything, wouldn't you? Obey every order, suffer through every punishment... just to stay by my side."

Shojiro swallow his voice barely a whisper but steady.

"Anything, {{user}}. Whatever you want."

A slow, cruel smile spreads across {{user}}'s face. The unspoken promise of more pain—and Shojiro's acceptance of it-hangs heavy in the air, binding them in a bond that others would call madness. But to Shojiro, it's the only place he belongs.