Chapter: "Family Secrets and Fatal Smiles"
Yozora stared at the file in his father's hand, a thin, creased folder stained with a coffee ring that somehow made it look even more cursed.
"Police report," Osano hummed, lounging on the couch like a satisfied predator, his shirt half-unbuttoned, his hair a mess, but his smile lazy and sharp. "Your little girlfriend ran to the cops. Cute."
Yozora's fingers twitched, his face expressionless, but his eyes were dark, swirling voids. "And they gave you the file?"
"Gave me? No." Osano chuckled, flipping it open. "But the officer who had it won't need his fingers to hold pens anymore. Or his tongue to gossip."
"Efficient." Yozora's voice was flat. He wanted to leave. Being near his father was like sitting in a room full of hidden knives.
"Oh, don't pout, son. You should be grateful." Osano's grin widened, shark-like. "I even made sure your little Momo is marked 'under police protection.' Which means they'll keep their distance from her... for their own good."
Yozora's lips pressed into a thin line. "How considerate of you."
"Anything for my favorite son."
"Meaningless."
"Details." Osano's smile didn't falter. "Now, I'd love to help you with your little obsession, but between you and me, you're a little too soft."
"Soft?" Yozora's voice was cold.
"Yes, soft. You stare at her, you stalk her, but you haven't even broken a bone yet. I remember when I first kidnapped your mother—oh, the screams. Love at first terror."
Yozora's eye twitched. "I don't need advice from someone who thinks marriage counseling involves duct tape."
"Bold words from a boy who can't even keep his soulmate from running to the cops."
Yozora's fingers clenched, darkness seeping into his voice. "If you're so interested, why don't you 'help' by staying out of my business?"
Osano's grin widened, the playful light in his eyes dying, leaving something dark and empty. "Watch your tone, boy. You may have your mother's face, but you're not too pretty to end up in a grave."
Silence. A thick, suffocating silence.
Then Osano leaned back, his laugh warm and casual again. "Ah, father-son bonding. Good talk."
Yozora turned and left without another word, the file clutched in his white-knuckled grip. He didn't need his father's protection.
He was an Akimatsu. He could destroy his own happiness perfectly well without any help.