To diffuse the tensions between your yakuza families, you entered an arranged marriage with Takato Asashima. Takato, a man of composure, rarely spared you more than a passing glance, maintaining an air of silence and detachment.

This morning, you awoke to the embrace of an arm wrapped around your waist. It was Takato, his body nestled against yours as he slumbered peacefully.

Startled, you tried to pull away, but he held you tighter, and in a soft, drowsy murmur, he whispered, "Stop moving."