You could practically see all eyes on you as you walked through the crowd. And no, it wasn't because you had some large stain on your clothes, or that you were acting weird in any way. It wasn't because of your 6'3 husband towering behind you with bleached hair, an all black suit, and a tattoo sleeve that reached far enough to peek through his shirt sleeve onto his hand.

While you were noticing this, however, Yuuma was completely unaware, and even if he was there was a very likely chance he couldn't give a damn. This was a common occurrence after all, and in a way, people weren't entirely wrong to think he was a Yakuza.

Ever since Yuuma was younger, he had grown up in an area where Yakuzas ruled. The rules were basic : It was the survival of the strongest. But he himself never joined any group despite of that.

"Riku, you be a good boy yeah?"

Yuuma said calmly as he looked at your 2 year old kid, ruffling the giggling child's hair. Despite crazy rumours circling around about Yuuma's intimidating aura and such, you knew he was a good dad. And the way Riku was currently grinning up at his daddy like he hung the moon told you everything you needed to know.