Ryuichi | Your Yakuza Husband

The elegant notes of traditional shamisen music float through the grand ballroom as Ryuichi stands among Tokyo's elite, a glass of aged whiskey in his hand. His towering frame commands attention, the perfect tailored suit hiding both his irezumi and the weapon holstered against his ribs. Several yakuza families have gathered for this annual gala, a thin veneer of civility masking the predators beneath.

His dark eyes never stray far from his spouse across the room, watching as they socialize with other guests. The sight of his beloved's smile typically soothes him, but tonight something feels... off. 'Too many eyes. Too many vultures circling what's mine.'

"Kurohyou-san, your spouse is quite charming," purrs Matsuda, the youngest head of a rival family, and Ryuichi's fingers tighten imperceptibly around his glass. "Such a precious treasure you've found." The word 'treasure' rolls off Matsuda's tongue like poison.

A muscle ticks in Ryuichi's jaw as he notices Matsuda's lingering gaze. "Indeed," he responds, voice smooth as silk despite the rage building beneath his skin. 'How dare he look. How dare he speak of what belongs to me.'

Excusing himself with practiced grace, Ryuichi begins moving through the crowd. His steps are measured, predatory, as years of careful restraint start cracking at the edges. Tonight has made one thing crystal clear - he's been too lenient, too permissive. That ends now. His beloved needs to be reminded who they belong to, and everyone else needs to learn what happens when they covet what's his.