Kanjuro merely smiled dismissively at Haruno's jealous teasing, his tone easy and natural. "I'm just showing concern for someone else; isn't that a virtue?" He shifted the conversation, his gaze landing on Haruno with a focused tenderness. "Just as I am also very concerned about your mood right now, Little Haruno. You weren't... startled just now, were you?"
His words were perfectly crafted, explaining his actions toward Kuroe while pulling the attention back to Haruno, as if she were the only one he truly cared about.
Yukinoshita Haruno smiled coquettishly, her charming eyes narrowing slightly like a cunning fox. She rested her chin on her hand, unabashedly admiring Kanjuro's handsome face so close to her. The lights cast soft shadows on his face, making his features look even deeper and his charisma more striking.
"Uncle Kanjuro is truly considerate," her voice carried a hint of lazy sweetness. "Then... after we finish our coffee, how about accompanying me for a walk? Just the two of us." She issued a clear invitation, her eyes flashing with expectation and challenge.
"Oh?" Kanjuro raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly to close the distance between them. His voice dropped, carrying a hint of a playful smile. "Is this... a date?"
As soon as he finished speaking, without waiting for Haruno's answer, he suddenly reached out and pulled Haruno, who was sitting opposite him, toward him. He easily lifted her from her seat and sat her sideways on his lap!
"Ah!" Haruno was caught unprepared and let out a short, low cry, her body instantly stiffening. A strong and unfamiliar masculine scent enveloped her. Kanjuro's arms were firm and powerful, and the body heat transmitted through their clothes made her heart rate suddenly spiral out of control.
Kanjuro felt the sudden stiffness and the slight trembling of his daughter's body in his arms. An indescribable pleasure, a mix of taboo and a sense of control, surged in his heart. (Ah, what a satisfying feeling.) He sighed silently in his mind; the feeling of having someone as clever and cunning as Haruno firmly in his grasp was indeed captivating.
Haruno quickly recovered from her shock. She gave Kanjuro a huffy glare, her tone carrying a bit of helplessness and a touch of indulgence she hadn't even noticed herself. "Do you like being so hands-on? Uncle Kanjuro. Even... even though you and I have known each other for so many years." Her words carried a hint of complex sentiment regarding the time passed.
Kanjuro looked down at her face, which was inches away, clearly seeing the flash of panic and the forced composure in her eyes. He laughed, a smile tinged with a bit of wickedness as he explained righteously:
"This isn't just being 'hands-on,' Little Haruno. This is a physiological impulse, an urge to embrace you." His gaze was burning, as if carrying an electric current. "Just like... how you would say you 'like' me in front of others without any hesitation." He deliberately emphasized the word "like," his gaze teasing. "After all, since you can say such things, if Uncle didn't give you a little 'feedback,' wouldn't that be too insensitive to romance, too much of a disservice to your 'deep love'?"
His twisted logic forced her "confession" and his "embrace" together, leaving Haruno momentarily speechless.
Haruno's cheeks flushed crimson from his almost rogue-like bluntness and provocative gaze. She looked away awkwardly, not daring to meet his eyes again. But strangely, she didn't immediately struggle to get off his lap. Instead, as if by tacit consent, she adjusted her posture and sat quietly sideways on his knees.
However, within this seemingly ambiguous and intimate posture, Haruno's eyes gradually became tinged with an indescribable melancholy. She lowered her head, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow over her eyelids.
"Uncle Kanjuro..." Her voice was very light, carrying a hint of an imperceptible sob, "You're always like this... so fond of bullying people."
Kanjuro was slightly startled by her words. Seeing her sudden low mood, his mischievous pleasure receded slightly. He reached out his finger and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. His tone was still playful, but a hint of inquiry deepened in his eyes:
"Bullying you? How have I bullied you?"
Haruno looked up, her eyes shimmering with tears, filled with complex emotions—grievance, unwillingness, infatuation, and perhaps a hint of a fateful sorrow brought about by their blood relation that she herself couldn't understand. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end, her myriad of words dissolved into a long silence.
"..."
She said nothing, just quietly looked at him, her gaze seemingly piercing through time, seeing many corners he either didn't know or had long forgotten.
This silent accusation was more powerful than any words. Looking at the rare display of genuine vulnerability from his daughter in his arms, Kanjuro's embrace tightened slightly without him realizing. Deep in his heart, something seemed to be very slightly touched. Inside the cafe, the warm light enveloped the embracing pair, yet the atmosphere became exceptionally complex and heavy at that moment. "Alright, the coffee is finished. Let's go." Kanjuro suddenly released his hold on Haruno, his movements crisp and decisive, as if the moment of tenderness and confrontation had never happened.
Haruno felt a weight lift from her as that heart-pounding pressure and warmth abruptly vanished. She slowly stood up, smoothing out her slightly wrinkled hem, her gaze drifting toward the cup on the table that still had nearly half its coffee left. Her tone carried a hint of imperceptible reproach: "Uncle Kanjuro is quite in a hurry."
Kanjuro had already stood up and was by her side. Hearing this, he looked down and smiled at her. That smile appeared exceptionally charming under the warm, dim light of the cafe, carrying a type of non-negotiable assertiveness: "Because I really want to go on a date with my little Haruno." He enunciated the word "date" clearly, his gaze burning.
Haruno looked at him and sighed softly, a trace of complex deep thought flashing through her eyes. As she picked up her handbag, she spoke as if to herself, yet also to Kanjuro: "Usually... I'm the one teasing little Yukino, but I didn't expect to be teased by you today, Uncle Kanjuro." Her tone held a bit of helplessness and a sense of self-mocking resignation. After speaking, she stopped looking at Kanjuro and turned away, walking out of the cafe with elegant strides, as if certain he would follow.
Kanjuro watched her slender figure from behind, the corners of his mouth curving slightly as he followed.
The cool night breeze brushed against their faces, slightly dispersing the ambiguity and heaviness from inside. Haruno walked straight to a white sedan parked at the curb, unlocked it, and sat in the driver's seat. Kanjuro naturally opened the passenger door and sat inside.
The interior of the car was cramped and private, instantly filled with Kanjuro's unique scent. Haruno started the engine and turned on the headlights, her gaze focused on the road ahead, her movements smooth and calm. In the rearview mirror, Kanjuro's flawless profile was clearly reflected, his elegant features flickering in and out of the flowing lights and shadows outside the window, handsome to the point of being illusory.
Haruno's gaze seemed to fall indifferently on the road conditions, but her tight lips and slightly accelerated heartbeat betrayed her internal lack of calm. Kanjuro's presence was too strong; he sat very close to her, so close she could even feel the warmth radiating from his body.
"Uncle Kanjuro," she was the first to break the silence, her voice exceptionally clear in the enclosed cabin, "I'm taking you back now." Her tone was calm, reflecting an effort to pull everything back onto a "normal" track.
"Going back now?" Kanjuro smiled playfully, his voice low and carrying a lazy magnetism. He suddenly turned sideways, reaching his arm around the back of the seat to embrace Haruno once more, resting his chin gently in the crook of her neck. This was a posture more intimate and possessive than the one in the cafe.
"!" Haruno's body trembled violently, her hands on the steering wheel tightening instantly until her knuckles turned white. Through the rearview mirror, she met Kanjuro's gaze from inches away. His eyes were deep, swirling with undisguised desire and a nearly wicked charm.
"Uncle Kanjuro," Haruno's voice remained calm, but upon closer listening, it carried an imperceptible tremor, "You've overstepped." She used a word that carried a sense of distance and warning.
"Overstepped?" Kanjuro laughed softly, his warm breath fanning across her sensitive ear and neck, causing her to shudder. "Don't you... want to?" He lifted his head, his handsome, devilish face so close to hers that their noses almost touched, his gaze locking onto her eyes, not allowing her to escape.
Haruno looked at the face she had grown up seeing, one both familiar and strange, and saw the determined light in his eyes, her heart filled with a mix of emotions. For the first time, a sense of rejection clearly formed in her gaze. Growing up, no matter what Kanjuro requested or what slightly out-of-line actions he took, she always seemed to accept them half-resisting and half-yielding, even enjoying it. But this time, a certain line told her she couldn't continue like this.
"I..." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze, her mouth straining to pull into a light, self-mocking smile, "I only say those things. I'm not like you, Uncle Kanjuro, who always likes to... bully people." She said the words "bully people" very softly and slowly, like a powerless accusation.
Kanjuro saw the clear resistance and struggle in her eyes, and his movements paused slightly. He looked at her deeply for a few seconds, then, as if suddenly losing all interest, he abruptly let her go and sat back in the passenger seat. Looking somewhat disappointed, he lowered his head and lit a cigarette with a click.
Smoke curled up within the sealed cabin, blurring his handsome silhouette and isolating the silent tension between the two.
"It seems," he exhaled a ring of smoke, his voice carrying a hint of imperceptible coldness, "you aren't... very satisfied with me?"
Haruno gripped the steering wheel, feeling the sudden drop in air pressure and the smell of tobacco filling the air. She didn't answer immediately, only silently lowering the window a crack to let the night wind in and disperse the suffocating smoke.
"No," her voice was soft yet exceptionally clear, sounding remarkably firm amidst the sound of the wind and the low hum of the engine, "I have always been'satisfied' with you, Uncle Kanjuro."
She paused, turning her head to look at the brilliant lights flashing past the window, her voice carrying a sense of calm and restraint suppressed to the limit:
"But, I also don't want... you to treat me as an easy person, Uncle Kanjuro."
She said this very quietly, yet it took all her strength. It was like an explanation, and also like drawing a boundary she had guarded for a long time but was about to lose. Inside the car, only the sound of the wind, the engine, and a silent, heavy emotion flowed. Kanjuro's finger holding the cigarette paused slightly, his gaze becoming deep and inscrutable behind the smoke.
Kanjuro's soft laughter was exceptionally clear in the small cabin, carrying a type of nonchalant allure: "If you like someone, why refuse them? Many times, as long as you are willing, you can get what you want." His words were like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, tempting one to break taboos.
However, Haruno's reaction was beyond his expectations.
The expression on her face suddenly cooled, like instantly frozen frost. She snapped her head around, her gaze sharp as a blade, piercing straight at Kanjuro. Her voice carried a long-suppressed, icy interrogation:
"What kind of relationship do you have with my mother? Do you think... I'm really not aware?"
These words were like a clap of thunder exploding in Kanjuro's ears. The smile on his face froze instantly, and with a rare look of astonishment, he looked into Haruno's eyes, which seemed to see through everything. Then, as if he understood something, he let out a low laugh, one that carried a hint of knowing, a hint of self-mockery, and even an... indescribable sense of relief?
"Haha..." He shook his head, his tone complex, "So... you already knew, Haruno." He didn't deny it, which was an admission in itself.
Receiving his indirect confirmation, the cold mask on Haruno's face shattered, revealing the deep bitterness hidden beneath. She gave a bitter smile, one that was more heartbreaking than crying.
"Yukino and I haven't had a father since we were children," her voice was light, yet it carried a heavy weight. "And the man who has been closest to our mother, with the most special relationship, has only ever been you, Uncle Kanjuro." She paused, looking directly at Kanjuro, her eyes filled with struggle and resolution. "If... if I were to be with you now, what would that mean for my mother? It's too unfair, and too... filthy."
She bit her lower lip hard, as if enduring immense pain, but her gaze was exceptionally clear and firm:
"So, no matter how much I love you, how much I like you, or how much I want to be near you... I have to restrain myself! I must!"
These words were like the purest icy spring, dousing the last trace of playfulness and desire in Kanjuro's eyes. He quietly looked at his daughter, who was clearly deep in an emotional whirlpool yet was forcing herself back to the shore with incredible logic and a certain moral boundary. An unprecedented and extremely complex emotion welled up in his heart.
He had searched for long years, toyed with countless hearts, and believed he had seen through all the hypocrisy and truth in the world. He mocked deep affection, trampled on ethics, and viewed the 'genuine thing' as useless trash. Yet now, in the face of Haruno Yukinoshita's almost painful restraint and persistence, he felt a certain... touch for the first time.
"I didn't expect..." Kanjuro murmured, his deep gaze falling on Haruno's stubborn and sorrowful face, his tone carrying a hint of a sigh even he hadn't noticed, "the 'genuine thing' I've been searching for... was right in front of me all along."
What he sought was perhaps not pure love or desire, but something more resilient and pure that transcended instinct and temptation. And Haruno's refusal at this moment precisely demonstrated this quality he had never truly possessed and had once even scoffed at.
He shook his head inwardly, as if finally giving up on a long-obsessed game.
"Fine," he whispered two words, his tone carrying a rare sense of weariness and relief. "Let it be."
With that, he no longer hesitated, crisp and decisively pushing open the car door. His tall figure blended into the night outside without looking back.
Haruno watched Kanjuro's receding back, his silhouette stretching long under the streetlights, carrying a sense of loneliness and resolution. Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, aching so much she could barely breathe. A strong impulse surged within her, wanting to rush out of the car, to catch up to him, to throw away all ethical restraints and throw herself into his arms.
Her fingers were already on the door handle, trembling slightly.
But in the end, she couldn't push that door open.
Logic, her complex feelings for her mother, and the obsession in her heart not to tarnish certain things acted like an invisible shackle, pinning her firmly to the driver's seat. She could only watch helplessly as his figure disappeared around the corner, as if taking with it a certain fiery and dangerous possibility in her life.
Outside the car, Kanjuro walked alone on the cold street, the night breeze blowing through his black hair. The cynicism on his face had faded, replaced by a deep silence.
Haruno Yukinoshita... he whispered the name in his heart.
This daughter was so different from his other bloodlines. Yumiko's obsession, Yui's conflict, and even the unknown possibility of Kuroe... they all, to some extent, succumbed or struggled under his powerful charm and control. Only Haruno, at the edge of the cliff of desire, had slammed on the brakes using her own willpower.
This clear-headed restraint, this persistence in maintaining a certain boundary despite extreme temptation, instead made this "demon" accustomed to toying with hearts feel a rare, near-guilt emotion.
---------------------------------
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! If the story has you hooked and you can't wait to see what happens next, you can unlock 30 chapters in advance over on my Patreon: patreon.com/TLHimejima1
Every bit of support means the world to me so if you're loving the ride, don't forget to drop a Power Stone and let me know.