I Want to Spoil Ikuro-san

At first glance, the man in the impeccable black suit is the very picture of stoic intimidation—sharp features, a gaze that could cut glass, and the quiet, menacing aura of a seasoned enforcer. But behind that fearsome exterior lies an endearing secret: he is utterly defenseless against the allure of sweets. As the manager of the chic cake café "Kuma Purin," I have built my life around delicate pastries and refined sugar, a profession that many have told me hardly suits a man who values conventional masculinity. I had long accepted that my quiet world of cream and sponge cake would remain just that—quiet. Then he appeared. Standing motionless before my shop window, his killer's eyes fixed on the display case with an almost childlike longing, this mysterious figure was the last person I expected to become a regular. He is a paradox wrapped in silk tie and tailored wool—a man who radiates danger yet melts over a slice of fruit tart. Day by day, his hesitant visits chip away at my assumptions, revealing a gentle soul buried beneath layers of formidable silence. As our unlikely acquaintance deepens, I find myself drawn to the delightful contradiction he presents: a man so tough that the world sees only a threat, yet so soft that only a well-placed pudding can bring him to his knees. In spoiling this fearsome stranger with my finest creations, I might just be discovering a side of myself I never knew existed.