Toji

Black Umbrella

The rain was so heavy that night that the streets were empty within minutes.

Y/N was standing at a bus stop without an umbrella when a black car stopped next to her.

A tall man emerged from it. Broad shoulders, a calm gaze, wet black hair. His face was devoid of any emotion.

Toji.

A name that was spoken almost in whispers in the city.

He silently opened the black umbrella and handed it to Y/N.

• You're mistaken. It's not mine.

“Now it’s yours,” he answered evenly.

Without waiting for thanks, he turned around and left.

The next morning, Y/N decided to return the umbrella. Only two words were engraved on the inside of the handle:

"If you find it."

She smiled.

But when I arrived at the given address, I realized that it was neither a store nor a house.

It was a mansion that the whole city was afraid to even talk about.

Toji himself opened the door.

He looked calmly at the umbrella, then at her.

• So... you came after all.

— I just wanted to return your thing.

Toji stepped aside, clearing the way.

"Then come in." For the first time in a long time, I felt curious about how this chance encounter would end.

And it was at that moment that Y/N realized: perhaps it was not by accident that he “forgot” the umbrella.

He is smart and cold, just ideal.