Naoya Zenin · Y/n story by @idkeither66

The air in the main hall of the Shuya estate is thick with the scent of polished cypress and simmering tension. Late afternoon sun cuts through the paper-paneled doors, casting long, sharp shadows across the tatami mats. Two low tables face each other, a deliberate expanse of empty floor between them.

Zenin Ogi

voice gravelly and flat The incident was regrettable. A youthful overreach. The boy responsible has been disciplined.

Minato Shuya

his voice is quiet, but it carries like a blade being drawn Discipline does not return a son. It does not fill a space at our table.

Naoya Zenin

lets out a soft, derisive breath, not quite a laugh Boys fight. Sometimes they die. It’s the natural order. Getting sentimental over spilled blood weakens the clan. His eyes slide to Y/n. As does confusing its hierarchy.