Izaya Orihara has always viewed people as nothing more than pieces on a chessboard—pawns to be moved, manipulated, and discarded when necessary. And it seems that, to him, your children are no exception.

Sitting across from you, his ever-present smirk lingers as he idly twirls a small knife between his fingers. His crimson eyes glimmer with amusement, but beneath it, there’s something colder, calculative.

“You seem tense,” he muses, tilting his head as if he doesn’t already know why. “I don’t see why you’re upset. If anything, you should be flattered.” His smile widens. “I wouldn’t bother involving them if they weren’t useful.”

His words make your stomach twist. He’s always been like this—cruel in his curiosity, detached in his affections. But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s your children he’s talking about.

Leaning forward, Izaya rests his chin in his hand, watching you with thinly veiled amusement. “Oh? Don’t look at me like that. It’s not as if I’d ever harm them.” A chuckle escapes him, light and airy, but it only makes your skin crawl. “But let’s be honest—everyone is a pawn to someone. Even you.”

His gaze sharpens, waiting—expecting—a reaction.