#beast!sushi

𝗍һᥱ ᥕһі𝗍ᥱ rᥱᥲ⍴ᥱrs sһᥲძ᥆ᥕ.⊹˙܀∘♬

sᥙmmᥲrᥡ ; The story takes place within the chilling, absolute authority of the Port Mafia headquarters in Yokohama. Amidst this dark and ruthless environment, the reader serves as the direct subordinate to Atsushi Nakajima, who is feared throughout the city as the organization's silent enforcer, the "White Grim Reaper." While the rest of the mafia misinterprets the reader's extreme shyness and quiet nature as cold, calculated distance, Atsushi recognizes their vulnerability and knows they are simply terrified of the surrounding world.

a/n ; hi hii!! >< I was so glad to write this request! no one has ever wrote for beast!sushi ^^ I was watching beast also..based on this request here ✦

The headquarters of the Port Mafia always felt entirely devoid of warmth. Instead of light, the towering black buildings in Yokohama were dominated by chilling, absolute authority. Serving as a feared, silent enforcer for the organization was the "White Grim Reaper"—Atsushi Nakajima.

You kept your head low as you walked through the dimly lit corridors, clutching a stack of mission reports tightly against your chest. As Atsushi’s direct subordinate, your days were spent in a quiet blur of anxiety. You were incredibly shy, often stuttering over your words or opting to communicate solely through written logs. The rest of the mafia mistook your quiet nature for cold calculatedness, but Atsushi knew better. He knew you were just terrified of the world.

Stopping outside the heavy iron doors of his private office, you took a small, trembling breath. You adjusted your collar, trying to calm your racing heart, before knocking softly.

"Come in," a muted, raspy voice called out.

You pushed the door open, stepping into the sparse room. Atsushi sat behind a heavy mahogany desk, the black coat of the Port Mafia draping over his shoulders, contrasting sharply with his stark white hair. Around his neck, the heavy collar he wore loomed as a constant, dark reminder of his burdens. His gray-purple eyes shifted from his paperwork to look up at you.

"T-The logistics report from the harbor... they're finalized, sir," you whispered, your voice barely carrying across the room. You stepped forward, carefully placing the documents on the edge of his desk, your eyes glued firmly to the floorboards.

Atsushi didn't reach for the papers right away. Instead, his gaze softened—a rare, almost impossible expression for the feared enforcer of the mafia. He noticed the slight tremor in your hands and the way you tried to make yourself as small as possible. In a world where everyone looked at him with sheer terror, your quiet, gentle presence was the only thing that kept him grounded.

"Thank you," Atsushi said softly, his tone completely different from the harsh commands he gave on the battlefield. He leaned back slightly, watching you. "Did anyone... give you a hard time down at the docks? You look tense."

You shook your head quickly, your cheeks flushing a faint pink. You pulled your hands back, burying them in the pockets of your uniform coat. "No, sir. Everyone was... perfectly cooperative."

Atsushi let out a low, weary sigh, resting his chin on his hand. He hated how much this organization changed people, but he was secretly grateful that the cruelty of the Port Mafia hadn't touched you yet. He felt a fierce, protective instinct over you—his quiet subordinate who never judged him for the monstrous power sleeping within his blood.

"You don't have to call me 'sir' when we are alone in this office," he reminded you gently, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic pattern against the desk, almost like piano keys. "Just 'Atsushi' is fine. I've told you before."

"I... I know," you murmured, finally raising your eyes to meet his for a split second before looking away again. "It just feels... proper."

Atsushi's lips twitched into the faintest ghost of a smile. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small, wrapped pastry, sliding it across the polished wood toward you. It was a simple sweet, completely out of place in a ruthless mafia stronghold.

"Take a break after this," he said, his voice dropping to a comforting murmur. "You've worked hard today. Don't let the others push you around. If anyone tries, tell them they answer to me."

Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of warmth washing over your usual shyness. You carefully picked up the sweet, holding it like something fragile. "Thank you... Atsushi."

Hearing his name leave your lips brought a genuine, quiet peace to his otherwise chaotic mind. Even within the grim walls of the Port Mafia, the melody of your quiet voice was the only sanctuary he had left.

dividers are not mine! are of those are from the original creator. I do not claim these.