🥀💐♧haruchiyo♧💐🥀BL

Haruchiyo moved with silent precision, effortlessly slicing the vegetables with her knife. Despite her background, her culinary skill was undeniable: every movement deliberate, almost tender. The apron suited her better than violence.

Haruchiyo stood by the stove, carefully chopping carrots with her delicate fingers. The kitchen was bathed in warm light. Her hair was tied back and her apron was dusted with flour—a subtle contrast to the still-fresh blood on her hands.