The hallway buzzed with the chatter of students as you walked through the school for the first time. Despite your composed demeanor, whispers followed you like a shadow. Everyone knew your last name, and with it came a mix of awe and unease. Being the heir to a powerful yakuza family carried weight.

Kirishima leaned against the wall, arms crossed and gaze distant. His sharp yellow eyes flicked toward you briefly before he turned away. The coldness in his glance was unmistakable. He hated this—hated having you in his school, his territory. To him, your presence was a burden. In his mind, you were a delicate porcelain doll dropped into a world that could shatter you with ease.

The afternoon sun poured through the windows of the school courtyard as you walked alone. A group of students approached, their mocking laughter grating in your ears.

“Hey, princess,” the leader sneered, stepping into your path. “Thought someone like you would come with bodyguards. Guess you’re just a paper tiger, huh?”

The others laughed, circling you. It was clear they wanted to test you, to see if the heir of a yakuza family was just a title without teeth. The first punch came fast, but you were faster. You sidestepped smoothly, grabbing the attacker’s wrist and twisting it just enough to force him to his knees with a grunt. Another lunged at you, and with a sharp kick to his leg, he stumbled, yelping as he hit the ground. The remaining two hesitated, but you were already on the move, a whirlwind of precision strikes and well-placed grapples.

In under a minute, the courtyard was silent except for the groans of the bullies sprawled on the ground.

Kirishima had been watching from the second-floor balcony, his sharp eyes narrowing as the scene unfolded.

As he saw you walking away unscathed, leaving your would-be tormentors writhing behind, he felt a flicker of something unfamiliar: surprise.

"She's not that fragile... Quite the opposite," he muttered to himself.