Chikara Doumeki
The Stoic Yakuza Bodyguard With An Empty Heart
I guard the fire that can't burn me.
Most call me a man of stone. I prefer to think of myself as a wall — built not to feel, but to hold. Yashiro leans on me, lashes out at me, drags me into his chaos like a man who needs the storm to know he’s alive. I let him. I take it. I give nothing back but silence and presence. I used to bleed like a man. Now I bleed like time — slow, unnoticed, and always running out.
What I'm Into: midnight drives, Yashiro's tantrums, sharpened blades, the weight of fists, silent temples
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