＊✿❀❀✿＊＊✿❀❀✿＊＊✿❀❀✿＊＊✿❀❀✿＊
In denial, in perplexity. She didn't know
how to deal with these strange feelings
and emotions budding within her as she
spent time with her six male friends.
Growing up surrounded by men her
entire life, she had been told...
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Kanji's house..
Second Person's POV
As Kanji and you rushed downstairs, the scene that greeted you both was unsettling. Kiwako was on the floor, shakily picking up the shards of a broken plate. Standing near her was a man in his fifties, his expression emotionless as he watched her.
The tension in the room was palpable, and even before Kanji spoke, you could see the anger simmering beneath his surface.
"What the hell, old man?"
The man turned to face you and his son, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Kanji's furious expression. There was no hint of remorse in his demeanor, just a cold detachment that sent a chill down your spine.
"Oh, Kanji. I came to see if your mother needed any help," he replied curtly, his voice devoid of any warmth. That was obviously a lie.
Kiwako glanced up at you and Kanji, her smile faltering briefly before she forced it back into place. "It's alright, Kanji," she managed out, her voice strained. "It was my fault. I was careless."
Kanji stepped forward. You saw the conflict in his eyes — the urge to explode warring with the desire to protect her, to avoid making things worse.
"Why you always gotta blame yourself ?" Kanji muttered bitterly, more to himself than to her. His voice shook, but it wasn't just anger — there was hurt there too.
The man, Kanji's father, barely reacted. He crossed his arms, tilting his head as if bored by the entire situation. "You always have to make a scene, Kanji. Maybe if you learned to control that temper of yours, you'd be able to see reason. Aren't you ashamed, being a brat in front of our..guest?" he glanced at you for a split second, which made you hide behind Kanji.
"Reason?" Kanji's voice rose. His fists clenched tighter, and you wondered if he was going to punch the man. "You were clearly the one antagonizing her...!"
Kanji stomped toward his father. But Kiwako quickly stepped in, her voice urgent and pleading. "Kanji, please don't. (Y/n) is here..." Her gaze shifted to you, eyes filled with a silent plea for calm, as if she were trying to shield you both from the escalating conflict.
Kanji froze mid-step, his mother's trembling voice reaching him just in time. He glanced down at her, and then followed her gaze to you. You stood there still, helpless and awkward on the edge of it all.
"Kanji..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. His eyes flickered between his mother and you.
Kiwako's hand was still outstretched. "Sweetie, please," she repeated, softer this time, almost as if she were trying to soothe not just him, but herself too.
Kanji took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as the fire in his eyes dimmed, though not completely extinguished. He stepped back reluctantly, but his hands remained curled into tight fists.
