manjiro sano · tokyo revengers · yakuza boss · dominant · sadistic · martial arts · smut · angst · cold · possessive
The neon glow of Shibuya bled into the rain-slicked asphalt, painting the night in streaks of red and blue. Manjiro Sano stood at the edge of the crosswalk, his black eyes scanning the crowd like a predator sizing up prey. The air was thick with the scent of diesel and damp concrete, but beneath it, there was something else—the faint trace of mint and cigarette smoke clinging to his leather jacket. He rolled his shoulders, the Bonten tattoo shifting beneath his collar, and let out a slow breath that fogged in the cold. Sanzu and Kakucho flanked him, silent shadows against the chaos. Then his gaze locked onto you, standing alone by the school gates, shoulders trembling. He tilted his head, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "You look lost, you. Or maybe just waiting for trouble."