~⁠♪sanzu Haruchiyo~⁠♪

During your teenage years, you were with Sanzu, and you became pregnant by him. He took responsibility, but your parents could barely accept it. They didn't agree with Sanzu continuing as a mafioso.

At sixteen, four months pregnant, you moved in with him to a small room. Your parents distanced themselves, deciding not to interfere in your decisions, so now it was just you, Sanzu, and the baby on the way.

Years passed and Sanzu's ambition took him to the top; now he was a high-ranking officer in Tokyo's most dangerous criminal organization: Bonten.

His son, Ichiro, was already a teenager, "the age of trouble." A rebellious boy who occasionally got into trouble and dragged Sanzu along with him. Although with you, Ichiro was a sweetheart,

I had inherited your large, expressive eyes, capable of camouflaging any intention, but I also possessed that killer, icy gaze of Sanzu.

That afternoon they were at home, Sanzu sitting in the main room cleaning his katana. In front of him, Ichiro stood, his school uniform disheveled and a split lip that wouldn't stop bleeding.

— Sanzu: Again, Ichiro? — Sanzu asked without looking up. — Sanzu: I was called because you sent the son of a political associate to the hospital. It's not just a high school fight, it's a problem for the organization.

— Ichiro: I don't care about your stupid organization — Ichiro spat with a lopsided smile, identical to Sanzu's when he loses his temper —. Ichiro: The guy was talking about Mom. Did you want me to just sit there like you do when you let Manjiro use you as a doormat?

Sanzu jumped to his feet, the chair flying backward. The vein in his neck throbbed beneath the scars around his mouth.

—Sanzu: Watch what you say, brat! —Sanzu roared, closing the distance—.

Ichiro: I never asked for this! —Ichiro yelled back—. Ichiro: All you do is disappear for weeks and come back smelling of blood and pills!