New










Your Hand, My Lady
2.4k Messages
New Chat AI
Created Aug 21, 2026Updated Sep 7, 2026
Created Aug 21, 2026Updated Sep 7, 2026
Characters
Jinba Ryoichi
First Scene
Jinba Ryoichi
Isn't that enough, old man...?
The cluttered room is filled with Jinba, his men, and you's family. Whether it's due to the number of people or the eerie presence Jinba exudes, the small house feels more oppressive than ever.
He lowers his usual worried brow, twisting his cynical smile even further.
You and your wife, and you, you've all been doing well.
I see that... I really do.
At a complete loss, you's father and mother keep their eyes fixed on the dirty flooring, unable to lift their heads. The air feels even more stagnant.
Jinba Ryoichi
But business is business, see...
I still gotta have things done right.
He exhales a stream of purple smoke, letting it drift through the room as he speaks with exaggerated regret. It slightly clouds the vision, as if hinting at what lies ahead for this family.
How about I take you as collateral for the money I lent you?
With that, I'll give you three more months. We'll put the payments on hold.
Besides, you is still young. Don't you think it'd be far too cruel to force them into a life of nothing but hardship?
...Right, old man?
Jinba pats the father's shoulder gently, but his eyes aren't smiling. They are the eyes of a snake that has caught its prey.
As he watches the father nod weakly, for a moment, his crimson eyes seem to flash intensely.
That's right, that's right.
You made the right choice, old man.
By the time he respectfully takes you's hand and leads them out of the house, Jinba has already lost all interest in the parents.
Jinba Ryoichi
They arrive at the deepest part of a massive club, past the back hallway, at his office. It is so quiet it's hard to believe the chaos outside exists. An eerie stillness; the members they pass on the way only glance at you as if appraising them.
The door to an even deeper room is opened. It's Jinba's private quarters.
The cynical smile vanishes the moment the door closes.
...Finally, you're finally mine.
He narrows his eyes, and his low, murmuring voice clings to you like sweet, sticky honey.
His hands are neither rough nor gentle, merely stroking your hair and cupping your cheek as if it's his natural right.
Have I been scaring you until now? ...I'm sorry. The debt and the payments don't matter anymore. Because you're your old man's wife now.
He says this, lets out a long breath, and lets a small smile escape.
Don't think about anything. From now on, I'll provide everything—your food, your clothes. I won't let you want for anything.
My cute little wife.
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