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ichigopanhpff · 1 year

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Sonata Ch. 7: Ad Libertum

[Previous Chapter] -- [Masterlist]

It's the last chapter! I know I've been very quiet here. My daytime job is ramping up on a project on top of family stuff.

Part 2 manga version of "Little Dark Age" chapter 13 is still being worked on, albeit slow. Once that's posted, I will be taking a little break.

I do have some stuff in the pipeline, but they're being fleshed out. Even though TR is ending in the next 3 weeks, I'll still be writing fics for the series until my brainrot is done with it xD

As always, thanks for coming into this little, dusty pocket of Tumblr and reading my stuff :)

Warnings: Guns, gang violence, smoking, brief mention of sex trafficking, corrupt authorities.

(/ædˈlɪbɪtəm/: At the performer’s discretion, improvisation

Smoke streamed from her lips as she dug her heels deeper into the sand, sitting with her thoughts and took another pull of her cigarette to calm her nerves. Her tired, bloodshot eyes stared straight at the rising and receding waves of water on the private beach reflecting the late afternoon sun, praying it would carry away her mental stress.

With a cotton cardigan draped over her frame, Manjiro supported her with his hand on the small of her back to the living room area, where Kakucho, Sanzu, and the Haitanis were talking amongst themselves. She stood rigidly and flimsily inhaled when noticing the slight look of relief shown on the scarred man’s face. For some reason, they were all wearing white as well.

“Look who decided to finally join us,” Ran lazily congratulated and took a sip of his cocktail from a vintage crystal highball glass. “Sit, sit. We have much to talk about,” the older brother gestured to the empty sectional couch with Manjiro leading her to it.

“Where’s Koko, Mochi and Takeomi?” his boss asked.

“On their way,” Sanzu replied after looking up from his phone. “They had some loose ends to tie up n’ they’re stuck in traffic at the moment. Said they’ll be here in another 20 minutes.”

“Should we wait?” Rindou asked in a bored manner.

“They already know the gist of it,” Manjiro answered and turned his attention back to Ran. “Continue.”

“So,” he set his glass down on the wooden modular table with a muffled thud and sharply clapped his hands together with too much joy. “You were shot.”

“Yeah. I know,” she deadpanned and pulled her tank top high enough to show the purple-yellow edges of her bruise. “I was also told I was dead.”

“With a rubber bullet,” the admin finished.

(Y/N)’s gaze went to pure confusion the moment she saw Chono walk out from the hallway opposite to her and planted himself beside the Haitanis. The tall and handsome man wore an all black fitted suit and bowed deeply at the higher ups.

“Good work, Chono—sorry, I mean, Inoue,” the older Haitani praised. “He totally looks like a Chono.”

“Right?” Rindou agreed. “You should consider changing your name one day.”

“I don’t think that’d be wise, considering that was my cover and it not being a common surname,” their underling politely pointed out.

“Fair point,” Ran took note and sipped his drink before continuing. “Ah, we’ll talk about giving your allowance a raise after this whole thing’s said and done with. Perhaps even a promotion.”

“You’re too kind sir,” Haitani’s lackey humbly replied in his usual quiet demeanor and lowered his head. “I was just doing what was needed to be done.” He then turned his attention to (Y/N) and bowed. “I deeply apologize for shooting you, (Y/N)-san. I was under strict orders to not let slip of the plan.”

“You didn’t hesitate. I’ll give you that.”

“Inoue’s one of the moles we planted within Daruma,” Rindou explained. “Given his looks and astute nature, we knew he’d be a shoo-in for Dynasty’s front of house. He and a few others have been feeding us the club’s internal dealings and affairs.”

“So you knew everything from the start then.”

“Not everything,” the short lilac streak haired man clarified. “We didn’t know what Mizunori had on us, so we had to play the waiting game until you successfully honey potted him. After that, we sprung a plan to get you killed!” Ran chimed in too gleefully and corrected himself. “Well, get Umehara Sachiko killed once you were able to get what we needed. Inoue’s story for shooting you was because he discovered you were stealing the club’s earnings from the safe so you could pay off your debt to us.”

“You had a lot of faith I’d succeed then,” she guardedly responded and crossed her arms, despite feeling betrayed in not being let in on their plan.

“No offense, princess, but Mizunori Daisuke’ll fuck anything that has tits and ass who bats their eyelashes at him…” Ran casually sipped his drink.

“So like you then,” she retorted with a sharp glower at the admin, only to be returned with the same stare. Kakucho and Rindou both tried to cover up their snickering with loud coughs and throat clearings; Manjiro merely curled up a corner of his mouth in amusement while Sanzu unabashedly cackled like a hyena.

“We knew you’d succeed because you’re clever,” Manjiro cut in.

“Everything went as planned, except…” Ran trailed off.

“The impact of the rubber bullet made your body go into shock and you stopped breathing,” Rindou frowned and placed his hands on his hips. “Legally, you were dead for two minutes ‘til Inoue performed CPR to resuscitate you.”

“Now I’m beginning to wonder if him reviving you was a good decision,” the older Haitani casually snipped, with (Y/N) rolling her eyes at his jab.

She hovered her hand over her chest and looked back up at the group. “What happened after?”

“We retrieved the thumb drive you tucked away in your dress and gave it to Koko,” Ran concluded and finished his cocktail.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat while holding her midsection, slowly exhaling. “Wait.” She paused and pursed her lips. “Who changed my clothes?” The men in the room stayed quiet, only hearing the clanking of ice cubes from the Haitanis’ glasses. “And why are you all wearing white?”

“I was going for this whole “heaven on earth” theme,” Ran mused in his usual playful manner. “Just so you’d wake up to first see angels in your sights. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Angels?” she snickered and lightly winced from her bruise. “I can see the horns holding up your halo.”

“As for who changed you…” the older Haitani trailed off with a devious smirk. “That tattoo you have is in quite the interesting place.”

“I don’t have a tattoo.”

“You do now.”

“You also may or may not have a few dark marks between your legs,” Rindou added with an unreadable expression.

“I—What?!” she exclaimed with raised brows and seethed from flinching her sore muscles.

“Koko’s assistant changed you,” Kakucho finally interjected, shooting a small glare at the brothers. “She was the only one allowed in your room while you were unconscious.”

“Why do you always ruin our fun, Kaku-chan?” the older Haitani pouted, earning him another stare of daggers from the scarred man.

“So how long was I out this time?”

“Nearly five days…” Kakucho chimed in. “Your blood pressure spiked and went into shock the second day. We got our personal medical team to come in to stabilize you.”

“I also asked them to run a tox panel,” Manjiro added. “You had traces of ketamine in your blood.”

“Bastard must’ve coated my glass in it before I got there,” she frowned and inwardly seethed.

“Never knew you were such a delicate flower, considering how bold you were to stare down our guns,” Sanzu noted with a dry chuckle.

“If I knew I was this fragile, I wouldn’t have signed up for this,” she huffed as her face screwed up from discomfort and pain, letting out a light groan. “Are there any pain killers in this villa?”

Sanzu reached into his trouser pocket and placed a small bottle on the coffee table. She looked up with an incredulous stare of distrust.

“Relax. I picked it up at the pharmacy on the way here,” the pink-haired man rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I’m a drug enthusiast, not an addict contrary to popular belief. At least I know when shit’s outta my realm for regular care.”

After popping two white pills into her mouth and chased it down with water, she asked why she was here and held her hand up before any of them answer. “Let me guess: ’protection,’” she answered with air quotes. “Since I’m dead.”

“It’d be weird if you walked around the city like nothing happened, right?” Kakucho reasoned.

“We’ve been preparing for this since your mission started, (Y/N)-san,” Manjiro revealed. “With the intel in our hands now, this is the beginning of the end for Daruma.” He finished with a sinister curl from his thin lips.

“All thanks to you.”

Absentmindedly rubbing her healing abdomen, she snubbed out the remnants of her cigarette into a portable ashtray and audibly sighed with weight from her lungs. She was dead, which meant she can’t show her face in Tokyo anymore.

She was free.

Were it not for her conflicting conscience chastising her moral compass, she’d feel more relieved. When Koko arrived at the villa with Takeomi and Mochi, a mixed look of annoyance, concern and triumph riddled his features. The finance admin deeply frowned upon seeing the Haitanis taking it upon themselves to peruse some bottles from his collection of rare liquors he spent years finding alongside his Georges Briard vintage crystal glassware; though he would’ve completely lost his shit if they ever touched the ones from Imperial Glass Company. According to him, he had half a mind to kill the bastard who tried to outbid him for the Shoji line at the auction house.

There really was nothing money couldn’t buy with Bonten.

But was she any better?

The reinforced cushioning in her bank account made it so she wouldn’t have to worry about living paycheck to paycheck or working anymore thanks to Sano Manjiro. No matter how many times she refused, the leader insisted in paying her for the danger she put herself into for getting the intel they needed. It was dirty money paid from the blood and misery of others; accepting it would mean their blood was on her hands too.

There was also the matter of the intel Koko discovered.

“That Mizunori’s a real piece of work,” the finance admin sneered. “Turns out Dynasty’s just a cover for Daruma’s sex trafficking ring n’ he got first pick of the girls before the rest went to market.”

The dark look in (Y/N)’s eyes made her regret keeping him alive rather than slicing his throat the moment he got knocked out from the drugs.

“He’s also got info on our drug cartel connections in Southeast Asia, down to the shipment dates. Bastard also caught wind of our arms deals in Mexico,” the silver haired man continued.

“Probably from those grunts I offed not too long ago,” Sanzu huffed and crossed his arms. “Can’t find anyone loyal nowadays.”

“There’s another interesting item on the table.” Koko turned his laptop screen for everyone to see. The admins and (Y/N) scanned the contents in silence.

“This is…” she began.

“A list of cops under our yen and Daruma’s,” Mochizuki finished her thought.

“So it’s an information war then,” Takeomi remarked from the open balcony door smoking his cigarette.

“What would he get in return if he turned you two in?” she asked.

“And that’s the golden question,” Ran revealed with a lazy grin. “We did some digging on him while you were singing your heart out. He has several active charges on investment fraud and sexual assault; our guess is the cops’ll find a way to sweep his rap sheet under the rug if he handed us and Daruma over.”

“Who’s to say the cops won’t arrest him too?”

“Money, angel.” Koko’s hand gestured with rubbing his thumb over his the tips of his index and middle finger. “With the amount he’s gotten from both syndicates to pad his pockets on top of his business’ earnings, throwing a few hundred thousand yen toward civil servants n’ writing it off as an anonymous charity donation would be nothing.”

“Mikey, what do you wanna do now?” Mochi inquired to Bonten’s head. The short white haired man rested his hands on his thighs, deep in thought.

“Takeomi, schedule a meeting with Daruma’s head. Koko, find us neutral turf to have the meeting in,” he calmly commanded.

“Wise decision, boss,” his advisor agreed and put out his finished cigarette into an ashtray before taking his phone out.

“Only neutral turf I can think of is Playground.”

“The strip club?” Kakucho clicked his tongue. “That’s too distracting for those two.”

“Sitting right here,” Ran flatly noted and sipped his drink.

“What about Eden?” the scarred admin recommended.

“Eden’s been under our jurisdiction ever since the previous owner passed away.”

“Whatever the place is, make it happen,” Manjiro concluded. “We take out Mizunori Daisuke first with Daruma’s cooperation and then we turn ‘em in to the cops with the intel.”

“What ‘bout the dirty cops?” Sanzu asked.

“We can either hang ‘em out to dry or bring ‘em under us,” Koko suggested.

“I’ll let you make that call, Koko.” Manjiro stood from his seat and made his way toward the bedrooms.

“Wait,” (Y/N) called out, drawing everyone’s attention. Her hands were balled up knuckle white tight on top of her lap and rolled her lips in anxiously.

“Spit it out, girl,” Mochi blurted.

“Can you… leave the cops out of this?” she meekly requested. “Daruma, I get but… please… Think of their families.”

“Why should we?” Kakucho coldly questioned. “They made their choice. That’s not on us.”

“I get that! But even so…” Her nails dug deeply into the fleshy parts of her palm, trying her best to stay calm. “Think of what would happen if this list was picked up by the media. How do you think they would spin it? The public would lose faith in the system and Tokyo would be thrown into chaos.”

“Your point?” Takeomi arched his brow with extreme disinterest.

“If this gets out, innocents will get thrown into the fray as collateral damage. Their families would have to pay for their fuck-ups!”

“She’s trying to be the moral conscience for us,” Rindou rested his chin on top of his hand. “Boring.”

“We’re a criminal organization, not a charity, (Y/N)-san,” Mochi harshly reminded her. “It’s not our job to safeguard ‘em. They made their beds.”

“But—”

“Enough.” Manjiro acutely cut in with his back still facing everyone. “This discussion is over.”

“Of course they won’t listen,” she muttered to herself and rested her chin on her knees, feeling completely defeated in the sunset. “Why would they? They got what they want already.”

Huffing another audible sigh through her nose, she had to think of her next step; she never thought her goals would be achieved this quickly.

“There you are,” a familiar voice called and pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Manjiro walking toward her and sat down with enough personal space between them. He observed her side profile in silence before turning his head to face the water, the waves crashing onto the beached shores.

“Who’s ‘Emma’?” she asked all of a sudden. Manjiro’s head immediately jolted up with a look of surprise.

“How do you—”

“I heard you muttering her name when you were sleeping,” she divulged and shifted to sit a bit more comfortably on the soft sand.

“… My half-sister,” he finally answered hesitantly. “She died 12 years ago… I couldn’t protect her.”

The sun slowly descended into the horizon, as if to leave them for privacy while the moon slowly came into view from the early evening sky to fill in for the shining day star. The pregnant stillness between the two was filled with the sound of ocean waves coming up creeping up for high tide. She was sure he’s heard all of the words of condolences to whomever he’s shared this knowledge with to the point where he was tired of hearing it; empty words like those would never bring her back.

“What kind of person was Emma-san?” she softly asked.

“She was warm, kind-hearted and devoted… like you.”

Manjiro felt his hands shaking from a mix of the cold breeze and nervousness, making him quickly grab it to keep her from noticing. This was the first time in years he’s talked to anyone about Emma. And it made him extremely uncomfortable. As much as he thought he was able to compartmentalize his heart, (Y/N) somehow made it possible for those walls to fall apart with her presence.

Was she a witch sent to curse him for his past failings?

After all, he’s stained his hands with the blood of others to protect his friends. Perhaps this was his comeuppance; part of him expected it to happen, but never had he thought it’d come in this form of cruelty: a woman in hopes to implant a conscience into Bonten; just like Ken-chin, Takemitchy, Emma and Toman were to him once upon a time.

Of all the threats he’s faced, she’s the most dangerous by far.

“I’m not as kind as you think I am,” she lightly chuckled. “But compared to you guys… perhaps.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two, listening to the waves crash up the shore. Stars above them appeared from their slumber, twinkling above as the Earth’s satellite rose from the horizon to cool down the heat of the day.

“So what will you do now?” he finally asked with an underlying tone of sadness.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out…” she sighed and looked up at the sky.

“I have a proposition for you,” Manjiro began.

“If you’re asking me to be your woman again…” she warily began.

“It’s nothing like that,” he dryly chuckled, having learned his lesson after the first time. “Would you consider joining Bonten?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock while her mouth went slightly ajar at his offer.

“I’m aware of what you think of us, but you’re resourceful and can think on your feet; someone with your skill sets would be very useful for operations. After all, you’re the one who helped us bring down Daruma.”

That’s right; she did all this to find any sort of clue on her adoptive mother, only to turn up with nothing and contributed to the success of a criminal empire. By helping them crush their rival, they now stood undisputed and practically handed Tokyo to them on a silver platter the moment she extracted that intel from Mizunori’s laptop.

Her hands were tainted like theirs; but what did she reasonably expect? Her intentions completely went amiss and got lost in the mission. She failed because she put Bonten’s needs over her own.

How stupid.

What could she do now to make up for this sin?

---

Three days later, all the admins returned to Tokyo to prepare for the meeting with Daruma, leaving her alone at the villa. Luckily, she was permitted to leave to take in the sights and smells, only to realize the nearest public beach, park and market were fifteen minutes by car; the nearest public transportation hub was at least three miles away.

“I swear, it’s like they’re out to troll me,” she angrily said to herself and sighed. It’s not like she’d be able to wander far any way on foot with her still healing up from her injuries. At least she was able to move around without much discomfort now.

Gently laying down on the white leather couch, she stared up at the bright white ceiling. The balcony door was left wide open, welcoming the cool ocean breeze in as nature’s air conditioning. This was the first time in months she felt this relaxed and at peace. With the ocean as her background music with songbirds twittering into the sky, her eyelids felt heavy and found herself drifting to sleep. A few hours later, Kakucho and Kokonoi returned to the villa to find it completely silent. Instinctively on guard, they found their guest completely in slumber without a care in the world.

“This girl…” the finance admin grumbled and opened one of the linen closets to grab a sheet. “She’s gonna catch a cold.”

“Never thought I’d see you Mother Hen her,” his companion chuckled.

Draping a small blanket over her frame, the silver haired man looked at her fondly as if she was another person; he had to fight the urge to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. The phone in his pant pocket buzzed and got up to take it.

“It’s Mochi…” he noted and took the call as he went into his study. Kakucho approached the couch and sat down beside (Y/N)’s sleeping form.

“You wouldn’t last in Bonten, leaving yourself vulnerable like this,” he uttered to himself with a small smile. His dual-coloured eyes wandered down to her lips; flashbacks of their searing kiss from that night had him unconsciously licking his. With Koko in the next room, he settled for brushing a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She lightly shifted at his touch and sighed contently. A short beat later, the finance admin came out with furrowed brows.

“Kakucho, be on your guard,” he warned. “Takeomi set up the temporary truce with Daruma, but there’s word that some of their lieutenants aren’t sitting well with this n’ are taking up arms.”

“What about Mikey?”

“Sanzu and the Haitanis are with him along with their men. We need to get to a safehouse in case they come storming in here.”

“Closest one is Yokohama.”

“I already arranged for a boat to get us there at Onuki Port.”

The scarred admin vigorously shook (Y/N)’s shoulder, rousing her from sleep. She mumbled rubbing the tiredness out of her eyes and let out a long breath. Her sleepy gaze focused on a pair of familiar dual-coloured orbs. “Kakucho-san?”

“Sorry to wake you, but we have to leave now,” he calmly addressed in a serious tone.

“Did something happen?”

“We’ll explain on the way.”

The three made their way to Kokonoi’s Tesla and buckled in. Kakucho summarized their current status to her. Her lips waned into a deep frown with knitted brows.

“So we’re doing this out of precaution then?”

“Even though the land around my villa’s private property and I have plenty of security set up, it’s better to rely on your gut for things like these,” Kokonoi replied with his eyes still on the road.

“I thought you only believed in things you could see in front of you,” she half-heartedly joked, remembering their conversation.

“I rather have my gut be wrong than to stare down my enemy’s gun.”

Getting on and off the highway without any issues, the car slowly pulled into a lot. Pulling his weapon from his holster, the scarred man checked the amount of bullets in his clip before loading one in the chamber. Kakucho cautiously surveyed their surroundings with sharp eyes.

“Boat’s over there,” Kokonoi cocked his head to the northeast of them. A lone unsuspecting fishing boat sat idle on the dock with a light on starboard and the stern. Kokonoi flicked the headlights of his car with three second delays four times, with the boat’s stern light flickering twice. The driver clicked his tongue.

“We got company,” he groaned out. “Two groups hiding in the dark twenty feet from the boat.”

“How many?”

The finance admin casually flickered his lights again and waited for the boat to respond. “They think six.”

“You got your gun, Koko?” Kakucho asked and looked down to see him flash the piece strapped to the small of his back underneath his shirt. “Still got the other one?”

“Glove compartment,” he replied while reaching for his weapon and making sure it was loaded.

The scarred man opened the compartment and pulled out a small hand pistol and handed it to (Y/N). Hesitantly reaching for the weapon, her shaky hands nearly dropped it on the car floor.

“This is just for protection. We’re not expecting you to actually shoot it,” Kakucho affirmed.

“And not at us, please,” Koko made a side note.

“Safety, hammer, trigger. Aim with both hands by firmly grasping the handle,” he quickly instructed. “Make sure safety’s off if you do have to use it.”

Swallowing thickly, she slowly nodded while eyeing the weapon in question. It’s only for protection, she reminded herself before following the two out of the car. Staying hidden in the shadowed areas of the port, the three swiftly moved with quiet footsteps. Kakucho saw movement from three men from the corner of his right eye. Not wanting to engage with them with a disadvantage in vantage points, the scarred sharpshooter took point in protecting Kokonoi and (Y/N). Carefully observing the group, they moved as the enemy moved, making sure their footsteps were close in sync so they weren’t detected.

Hiding behind a turned boat draped with blue tarp, they let out a short breath of relief. The water on the shore gently lapped not too far from them.

“How much further?” she whispered to Kokonoi.

“More than halfway there. If we get into a shoot out, we got snipers on the boat for support.”

“Stay here,” Kakucho instructed and went off on his own.

Keeping themselves hidden to the best of their abilities, all they could hear were shuffling feet on sand with grunts. A short beat later, two heavy thuds beat the soft earth. Just as he made his way back, he felt a threatening presence behind him and dodged in time only to have a bullet graze his right cheek. (Y/N) sharply gasped, seeing the scarred man slightly wince, only to turn his gun at the third man and fired off two shots into their chest.

“Shots this way!” a voice shouted not too far away.

“Let’s go!”

The three legged it as quickly as they could and heard bullets ricocheting off hard surfaces. She held her breath as they ran and slid behind a bigger fishing boat for cover that was near their escape vehicle and cowered in herself with every fired shot, trying her best not to scream. Steadily breathing and timing the shots, Kokonoi made a run for it on his own. Just as Kakucho was about to call him back, a stray bullet hit his left arm, making him flinch from the pain.

“Fuck…” he grunted and put pressure on his injury with his shooting hand, panting out loud.

Hearing three pairs of cautious footsteps stomp on the sand getting gradually closer, (Y/N) had to think quick; using her weapon was out of the question and they’d immediately be dead. The first thing she had to do was keep Kakucho’s heavy breathing quiet as he’d give their position away. Even though he was doing his best, the blood staining his sleeve jacket on top of the pain levels made it hard. Her breath hastened as Daruma’s grunts got closer step by crunching step.

Running out of options, she impulsively pulled him by the cuff of his shirt and crashed her lips onto his, instinctively squeezing her eyes close. He sucked in a sharp breath from surprise and slowly breathed out, calming down; he tasted like salt and smelled of hot iron with a hint of the ocean beside them. Blindly feeling for something on the sinking earth, one of her fingers grazed a large rock. Snapping one eye open to grab it, she pulled away from the scarred man and threw the object as far away as she could for a distraction. The clatter of the prop collided with something solid, making the sound reverberate.

“I heard somethin’ over there,” they heard the voice say from the other side of the boat.

Hearing their pursuers back away and disappear into the shadows, she let out a short, quick huffs of relief and turned back to her bodyguard; the two ran while squatting the rest of the way to the escape vehicle in success. Kokonoi’s back could be seen analyzing the mechanics in how to drive it before coming back out to meet the two.

“So much for snipe support…” Kakucho dejectedly sighed and saw the two dead bodies laying on the deck face down. “Must’ve gotten taken out while we were moving.”

Kokonoi grunted with effort and lifted one of the corpses up and threw him overboard with a splash, rocking the vessel. Rotating his shoulder from it being stiff, his sharp eyes glanced over at (Y/N).

“I’m not blowing out my back throwing a dead body over,” he pointedly declared. “Grab his feet.”

Hesitantly letting go of Kakucho, she grimaced and made her way over to the silver haired man, doing what he said. The grunt’s body splashed into Tokyo Bay and Kokonoi got to getting the boat running. She looked into the dark water with sadness and uttered a prayer in her heart for the two unknown men before turning her attention back to the injured one.

“Is there a first aid kit?”

“Should be one in the cockpit,” he groaned out. She could see his face glistening in the dark from perspiration, heavily huffing from the pain.

The boat’s engine quietly puttered to life and off they went across the bay toward Yokohama. She was able to find the kit behind the finance admin and brought it to treat Kakucho. He got to unbuttoning his dress shirt with his right hand while she took out a roll of cloth bandages to triage the wound. She looked up and was greeted with his muscular torso with Bonten’s mark etched on the left side of his chest glistening with beads of sweat. Her cheeks flushed as he gingerly attempted to pull his injured arm out of his sleeves.

“Let me.”

Gently pulling back his blood-soaked clothing, she got a full view of his arm with a crimson laceration across his left bicep with blood pouring out. The raven haired man glanced down at his injury and let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s just a graze,” he dryly chuckled and swallowed thickly. “Just bandage it up tight to stop the bleeding for now. Rest of the treatment can wait ‘til we get to the safehouse.”

Doing as she was told, she unraveled the bandage and put firm pressure on it while wrapping it.

“So…” he spoke again with hesitancy and licked his dry lips. “About that kiss…”

“I couldn’t think of any other way to keep your breathing quiet from giving us away,” she mumbled with her eyes completely trained on his injury, feeling her cheeks radiate heat. “It was either that or I try shooting the gun.”

Kakucho pressed his lips into a thin line for a beat and slowly blinked at the surprisingly logical way she approached this, albeit unconventional. After cutting the extra fabric and securing the bandage, (Y/N) helped drape his shirt and suit jacket back on and packed up the kit.

“If I died now, I wouldn’t even be mad at it,” he lazily huffed out between slow, ragged breaths.

“And why’s that?” she asked with an arched brow.

“’Cus I got to kiss you again,” he replied with a tired lopsided smirk. “Sober this time.”

“You need to get your priorities straight,” she shook her head in disbelief before standing back up to put the item back where she found it. Just as she made her way back, she noticed Kokonoi squinting in the dark.

“Can you not see?”

“I… kind of have had bad eyes since I was a kid,” he apprehensively revealed and thickly swallowed. “I don’t even know how close we are to the port.”

She looked up and saw the aforementioned port coming in moderately fast at them and lightly gasped.

“Please kill the speed,” she quickly answered with a sense of panic rising in the depths of her stomach. “Or we’re gonna crash, like, now.”

Their fishing boat came in moderately fast and ended up bumping into the rubber fenders. The three of them nearly fell into the water from the remaining lurching momentum. Getting off the boat while rubbing her still bruised midsection, (Y/N) softly groaned and made a mental note to never get into any vehicle where Kokonoi’s the driver again. Not too far from the docks was an unmarked car waiting for them and took them to the safe house in the heart of Yokohama’s Chinatown. Being guided through the red lanterns, winding streets and a few narrow staircases later, they reached their destination. She let out a loud sigh of relief the moment she plopped on the couch, feeling all the adrenaline driven strength sapped from her legs.

“I’ll update everyone with our status,” the silver haired man said and left her alone with Kakucho, who grabbed a bottle of cheap whiskey by his side.

“Makeshift painkiller,” he noted. “Not the first time I’ve had to patch myself up like this.”

“Certainly not the last either,” she remarked with indifference, making the corner of his mouth curl up with an understanding look.

Dragging herself off of the couch, she situated herself beside the scarred man and helped him remove the bandage on his left bicep, seeing the dried blood stained on his skin with a dark red gash marring his skin. Grabbing the rubber gloves from the kit, she placed them on and waited for directions; Kakucho pulled the cork with his teeth and spat it out on the low table in front of them to take a swig from the bottle to numb the pain.

“Clean it with some alcohol before stitching me up n’ smear some antibiotic ointment on it after,” he instructed and watched her open a bottle of rubbing alcohol to soak a gauze on it. Carefully wiping the dry blood off his arm, Kakucho gritted his teeth from the white hot burning sensation, keeping his eyes on her tenderly cleaning his wound as distraction before taking another sip of whiskey. When she started to thread the needle on his skin, he hissed lightly from each poke; she tried her best to do it as quickly as possible to minimize his discomfort.

“I’ll gladly get injured to see you treat my wounds like this,” he joked to make conversation.

“Don’t make it a habit,” she deadpanned while reaching for the ointment. She carefully spread the white cream over the injury. “How many times have you been shot before?”

“This would be the third,” he remembered. “First one was here.” He pointed to a faint scar on his upper right pectoral. “Second was down here.” His index finger pointed to his left thigh. “Sanzu treated this one n’ I swear, that guy had too much fun pulling the slug out.”

She let out a small, breathy chuckle and finished up re-bandaging his arm with reinforced gauze to keep the wound moist before moving onto cleaning the flaking blood on his cheek. Grabbing the salve from the table again, his lips caught hers the moment she turned back around, tasting the lingering burn of cheap whiskey. (Y/N) pulled a way a bit, covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers with a hint of pink spreading over her cheeks. Her eyes stared into his with a mix of shock, shyness and uncertainty.

Just as he was about to speak, Kokonoi came back in and noticed a change in the atmosphere between the two. She turned and met his narrowed gaze like a deer in the headlights, her body instinctively put a respectable distance from Bonten’s number three. Cocking a suspicious eyebrow, he carefully analyzed his constituent's body language; he wasn’t as tense as he usually was and his facial features were slightly softened. Kakucho’s dual-coloured orbs glanced back at him nonchalantly, putting his poker face back up.

“Everyone else okay?” the scarred man finally asked the finance admin. He silently nodded.

“We’re gonna rendezvous in Setagaya two hours from now,” he stated and turned to (Y/N). “You must be tired, so I asked one of our guys to make a conbini run. We’ll have some food soon.”

“Thank you, Kokonoi-san,” she quietly said and bowed before excusing herself to the restroom to wash her hands, leaving the two admins alone with each other.

“She’s gonna break your heart,” the silver haired man warned and sat down on the worn out leather couch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kakucho denied and leaned back in the small loveseat, sighing heavily and trying to recover his energy.

“I dunno what Mikey’s plans with her are so don’t get attached.”

It’s not like he didn’t know he was playing with fire, but ever since that night, he’d realized his mind wandered to her more and more. All the stolen glances whenever she was nearby to imagining a peaceful life together were all but a grandiose illusion.

He swore fealty to Bonten; to Sano Manjiro.

What he wanted in the end didn’t matter. This is his life until his last breath.

Personal trifles like relationships and love had no room. Women came in and out of their lives like the fashionable clothes and accessories they wore on the daily; (Y/N) was no different to this cycle.

She may not be in Bonten, but she was like them: an outcast always looking at the world from the other side of the glass, trying to find her place. Her non-judgmental nature on top of her open-mindedness enraptured his battle-hardened and calloused heart and soul.

She was like warm snow falling in a frozen tundra.

Kakucho constantly reminded himself to keep a fair distance from her, practically berating himself when he realized his growing feelings after the night they shared lips and nearly gave into his carnal desires. The piercing hooks of her presence and witty banter burrowed deep into his flesh, into the confines of his heart.

Being with her felt so right.

He was in deep and didn’t know how to get out.

A few hours later, the three got into another car that took them to their other hideout; going back directly to their main HQ was too risky at the moment. They didn’t know whether or not there were any more moles within their ranks. Just as (Y/N) made her way into the waiting room, Kakucho gently grabbed her arm with his bandaged one up, drawing her attention up.

“When this is all over…” he softly spoke, not wanting any others to overhear. “I wanna properly talk… about the possibility of us.”

“That… was just drunk talk.”

“I’m serious,” he firmly stated and gently squeezed her wrist. “I want to be with you.”

Her gaze widened at the revelation, feeling the genuine honesty in his words. “That’s… quite a way to confess,” she spoke slowly, feeling her heart hammering against her chest bone and nervously swallowed.

“I know. It’s bad timing,” he sighed heavily and ran his other hand through his dark locks, but his gaze was soft and completely trained on her. “… I’m not the best at expressing how I feel and this is a selfish request, but I’d like for you to hear me out. Could... you grant me that?”

She nervously nibbled on her lower lip, not knowing what to say and was unsure of where her feelings laid for the scarred man.

“I—”

“Kakucho,” Kokonoi called, jerking his head in the direction of the meeting room. “It’s time.”

Reluctantly releasing his grasp, he shot her a longing but hopeful look.

“Please give what I said some thought. I’ll be waiting for your answer.”

The admin turned on his heels and entered the room without casting her a second glance, with the silver haired man sparing one last look at (Y/N) before closing the door.

“How’s the arm?” Takeomi asked before putting his cigarette out.

“Hurts like hell, but it’s been treated. Wouldn’t be like this if Koko didn’t run off like he did.”

“Listen, I saw an opening to board the boat and I went for it,” he coolly defended his actions. “What’s important is we’re all here in one piece.”

“So the grunts who attacked us…” Kakucho began. “Do the heads of Daruma know of this?”

“Not yet, but we’ll bring this up during the meeting two days from now,” Ran noted with a lazy smirk. “This is definitely gonna be a bad look for them and they’ll play right into our hands.”

“So how’s all this gonna go down?” Mochi inquired and leaned back in his chair.

“As a sign of good faith, we’re to show up unarmed,” Takeomi started with a small furrow of his well shaped brows. “Daruma says they’ll do the same.”

“Question is do we trust ‘em enough to hold up to their word?” Rindou pointed out.

“That’s where Playground comes in: they’ll have metal detectors and their muscle at the ready should anything happen.”

“And can we trust them?” Sanzu crossed his arms, his face neutral.

“I’m on amicable terms with the owner of the establishment,” Kokonoi let slip nonchalantly. “They’re a reliable and neutral third party to oversee this.”

“Ohh? She’s the flavor of the month, huh?” Ran commented with both corners of his lips curled up and let out a light chuckle. “I’m sure you two grinded things out to get this set up.”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, unlike you.” The silver haired man pivoted from the topic. “Now that’s settled, what’ll happen with (Y/N)-chan?”

Kakucho’s demeanor shifted slightly at his question, his features warily scanning the room to see what the rest of the admins think and swallowed lightly.

“We wouldn’t be sittin’ here were it not for her,” Takeomi was the first to admit. “The plan took a while to implement, but can’t argue with the results.”

��We can have her work at one of our clubs,” Ran recommended. “To keep an eye on her if she decides to snitch.”

“(Y/N)-san’s not that kind of person,” the scarred man unconsciously thought out loud and inwardly groaned at the error of his actions the moment those words slipped off his tongue. Shit.

“Ohh?” Mochi drawled out and stared him down curiously. “Rare of you to say that, Kaku-chan.”

“She let you pop her cherry or something?” Ran teased. “Was she tight?”

“We’ll leave (Y/N)-san out of all our affairs,” Mikey finally interjected in monotone. “She’s free to do what she wants.”

“Sure that’s wise, boss?” Kokonoi inquired with a slight tone of surprise. “Haitani’s plan seems safer.”

“Did you forget the deal she made with us?” he reminded his men. “When have we ever gone back on our word?”

“Mikey… you know something,” Kakucho pointed out with a suspicious glare as the head remained quiet. The rest of the admins eyes trained on their leader.

“I offered her a spot in Bonten, but she declined,” Manjiro calmly answered, his dark ash orbs trained on a random spot on the floor. “She requested to leave while we were meeting.”

“What…?” he uttered in a barely audible whisper, feeling his heart begin to crack and ran toward the dual doors, swinging one of them open with a loud bang. The scarred man hurriedly dashed down the carpeted hallway, looking for the waiting room she was in. His breath hitched in his throat the moment he opened the door and saw a vacant space.

Mikey slowly walked up with Sanzu and Kokonoi in tow not far from him.

“Where…” he huffed out and couldn't finish his sentence, feeling a sense of panic anxiety rise from within.

“She didn’t say,” his boss flatly replied.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be…” he muttered to himself, going through his mind to see if he missed anything during their talks that led to this scenario. So this was the price for being a sinner, he bitterly thought to himself and slammed the bottom part of his fist onto the door frame. Just when he thought a sliver of happiness was attainable within his grasp, the darkness and pile of corpses laid at his feet reminded him exactly where he stood.

As much as (Y/N) was like them, the only difference were the shades of gray that dyed their shadows.

And his was as black as the obsidian night. Kakucho’s form slumped on the door frame in disbelief as Mikey turned back to the conference room to wrap everything up. As much has he wanted her to stay by any means necessary, she had other plans.

“That list of the girls from Mizunori’s laptop…” she began and clenched her fists. “What’ll happen to them?”

“They’ll either be sold in the black market through the ring or be put through the child welfare system and into an orphanage, depending on who finds them first.”

“I see…”

The warm ocean breeze whisked past the two as the sun finally set in the horizon with the moon and stars waking up from their slumber.

“I have a favour to ask, Manjiro-san,” she requested with strength in her voice. “Find those girls for me. As many as you can.”

“And what’ll you do?” he asked. “They can’t go back home.”

“I want to save them,” she declared.

“Why?” Manjiro asked. She turned to face him with an unwavering glint in her eyes.

“Because I know how it feels to be paying for someone else’s screw-ups. Those kids don’t deserve the life they’ll go through if no one does anything. That’s why… I won’t join Bonten.”

“You value these children, people you don’t even know, over your own life?” the white haired man reasonably debated. “You know I could kill you right now and no one will know.”

“I’m aware,” she answered softly. (Y/N) looked down at the rising tide beginning to hit their toes. “I wanna do something to help change their future. And to atone.”

“For what?”

“For handing Tokyo over to you,” she confessed with a slump in her shoulders. “That was never my intention but here we are. My hands are just as stained as yours and at the very least… I wanna do some good for these girls.”

Manjiro stayed quiet, absorbing the weight of her words. To change the future… That was the role he took when he went down this dark path of blood, death and destruction to protect Takemichi, Hina and his friends. With his hands stained with sin and crime, he knew karma will catch up to him sooner than later.

“Besides,” she lightly remarked. “I need to put some distance between you admins. I’ve been finding myself becoming too attached to some of you.” (Y/N) let out a small chuckle, her thoughts briefly wandering to Kakucho. “And as annoying as the Haitanis are, they back you up when you’re in a pinch.” She quickly turned to Bonten’s head. “Don’t… tell them I said that. They’ll get the wrong idea and think I’m madly in love with them or something.”

Manjiro made a mental note of it with a faint grin.

“So once I find those kids for you, where will you go?”

“Somewhere far, I suppose.” She rested her head in the palm of her hand. “The world’s a big place, after all.”

Six months later…

“You’re all gonna be late if you keep dragging your feet!” (Y/N) yelled down the wooden hallway. “Don’t forget to grab your bentos too!”

The heavy pattering of several footsteps stampeded down the narrow walkway. She left the cleaning rag on the table and made her way to the entrance of the house, seeing the back of four girls putting their shoes on.

“You got all your stuff for school today?”

“Natsuki-nee already reminded us,” one of the girls replied while adjusting her shoes.

“Yoh and Fumi were up late again talking ‘bout boys,” Kanako tattle-tailed. “I could hear ‘em from the other side of the wall.”

“Snitch!” Fumi roughly pushed Kanako on the shoulder, making her yelp out in pain.

“Fumi! No shoving,” she scolded. “I don’t mind you two staying up, but be mindful of your roommates.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Fumi and Yoh sarcastically drawled with a slight eye roll.

“Keep up with that attitude and I’ll put you both on a two-week cleaning duty with no internet or phone privileges,” (Y/N) threatened.

“You wouldn’t!” Yoh cried dramatically.

“Did I stutter?” their caretaker put her hands on her hips with a cold stare at the tween, making her squeak with nervousness. “I also heard from your teacher your grades are slipping again, Fumi.”

“But classes are so boring,” she young girl groaned and dramatically slouched and dangled her arms. “The assignments aren’t challenging enough. I could do ‘em in my sleep.”

“Speak for yourself,” her friend and roommate huffed while putting her scarf and jacket on.

“I get that, but at least turn your work in on time to get your teachers off your back,” (Y/N) sighed. “Play it smart, even if you are bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to tell us to be good, diligent students?” Natsuki asked as a matter of factly with raised brows.

“I could, but I rather tell you the truth,” she chuckled.

With the four girls suited up to deal with the cold outside, they all turned to properly say bye to (Y/N).

“Have a good day!” she gently smiled back at them just as they left.

“Uwah, look at all this snow!” Natsuki commented.

“It’s so dang cold!” Yoh shivered and immediately buried her face in her scarf.

“Let’s make snowmen when we get back!” Fumi cheerily suggested.

Finishing up her morning chores, (Y/N) tutored the two youngest, Tomoe and Aiko, in basic math and had them practice writing simple kanji alongside their names. While they busied themselves with reading, she grabbed her winter coat and gloves before heading outside to shovel the freshly fallen snow for better access to and from the entrance. As many times as the aging groundskeeper told her he’d do it, she rather not have him throw out his back for the umpteenth time for the season.

It’s been half a year since she left her life in Tokyo behind and begun anew in Hakodate. News of Mizunori Daisuke and Daruma’s demise made every news outlet in Japan. The police commissioner called it a great day for justice to earn more of the public’s trust as the head of the syndicate got hauled in alongside his inner circle. In the end, Bonten decided to not release the list of crooked cops to the public and kept them in their pocket to strengthen their iron grip on authority. Not long after, Mizunori’s body was found unresponsive in his jail cell and his death was currently an active investigation, with suicide not being ruled out.

It took a while, but Manjiro helped her find six girls from the sex trafficking list. Unfortunately, the rest had either already been sold off or died in transit. They’d been loosely in contact after she snuck away with the aid of some of his men the day they were finalizing their meeting and plans with Daruma and Mizunori; Bonten’s head waited until (Y/N) was able to settle down where ever she was before transporting the children to her. The condition she put on him knowing her location was that he couldn’t tell anyone, with the threat of her blowing the whistle on their activities to the authorities. Despite the death threat he sent her, she was unrelenting with her non-negotiable for their sake. Much to the head’s chagrin, he ultimately agreed after how much Bonten’s indebted to her.

When she first met the six girls, they were scared, angry, skittish and stuck close to each other through trauma bonding. It took her nearly three months to gain their trust and found workarounds to communicate with each other using drawings since they didn’t know how to read, write or speak Japanese. She gave them a new identity alongside their new life while teaching them literacy before being enrolled into school. The younger ones were to start next year and the older ones were helping her teach them as well.

Not wanting them to forget their roots, she told them the truth of their origins, as well as her own, and how they came to be here as gently as she could when the older girls asked; unfortunately, she didn’t know their birth names as they were only assigned numbers like they were livestock, their entire identity stripped and dehumanized. She felt they had a right to know and hiding this from them would mean they were hiding their true selves; (Y/N) gave them a few days to digest the information and waited for them to come to her. Even she didn’t know how they’d take it and if she were to admit to herself, she was genuinely scared her noble action would cause an irreparable chasm in their relationship and end up hating her.

To her surprise, they hugged her tightly and considered her their surrogate mother before thanking her for saving them and not lying in tears. Were it not for her and Manjiro’s actions, they wouldn’t be where they were now. She volunteered at the orphanage they lived in to make sure they were being brought up properly on top of using her own finances to help upkeep structural upgrades. Two months later, they received a very generous amount from an anonymous donor from Tokyo with a lone message: “For their better future.”

Despite not needing to work any more, she missed playing music and took up a part-time job at a local snack bar to scratch her performance itch and worked behind the counter whenever it got busy. Having no need to hide who she was anymore, she worked using her real name; her hair that was once lightened was dyed back to its natural colour and cut into a new style that was much easier to manage.

“Thanks for always coming by, (Y/N)-san,” the owner of the orphanage, Shirokawa, said from the doorway of the kitchen. “I’m sure the girls are happy too.”

“It’s the least I could do for them,” she answered while cutting up some potatoes for the nikujaga simmering in the large pot. Kakucho’s face flashed in her mind all of a sudden at the smell of the food and lightly shook her head to rid it of the thought. “They’ve gone through a lot.”

“As have you.” She made her way in and assisted with peeling the carrots. “Any word from your friend in Tokyo?”

“I’m sure he has a lot going on in his life right now,” she quietly answered with a melancholic glint in her eyes. “It’s better this way.”

“Are you sure of that?” Shirokawa questioned with an inquisitive tone.

“You’ve asked me this many times,” she remarked with a small smile. “It was my choice to leave.” (Y/N) looked up to meet the owner’s eyes with clarity. “I’m happy here.”

“And what of the other happiness you could’ve had?” the owner asked with a quirked brow, having been told of her past life.

“Keyword being ‘could’ve’,” she pointed out. “We could’ve been happy and I would’ve lived comfortably, but what then? My life wouldn’t have changed and I’m sure I would’ve gradually grown numb to everything, given what they do.”

“You don’t think you could’ve changed him?”

“To ask a man to change is like asking a tired ox to keep moving by the tug of a rope. Besides,” she stirred the pot slowly. “I rather he change for himself so he’d find his purpose.”

“And what if you were his purpose?” Shirokawa inquired. “What then?”

“I highly doubt that. I left without saying good-bye,” she lamented. “If anything, he probably hates me and I wouldn’t blame him.”

Once the food was done, she made her way out to head back to her apartment not far from the orphanage to get ready for her shift at the snack bar tonight. It was a cozy one bedroom, furnished with the bare necessities. Her place wasn’t overly feminine, but had enough character to call it her home. Casually styling her hair, she put on a light champagne coloured eyeshadow paired with a brown eyeliner; her lips a light tint of natural coral. Compared to the makeup she used to wear as a hostess, this was much easier to manage. Giving herself two light sprays of perfume smelling like honeysuckle and elder flower on her pulse points, she grabbed her belongings and made her way into town with the light rail.

Walking the shoveled streets of Mihara, she bundled herself into her pea coat and scarf, seeing her white breath float up into the early evening sky. Hakodate’s day to day was certainly a lot slower paced than Tokyo’s, but she enjoyed it. Making her way into Juju’s Snack Bar, she greeted the owner and bartender as she entered, shaking off the remaining snow under the soles of her shoes. The vintage wooden panels paired with the tan striped wallpaper made anyone feel like they time traveled back into the 1940s. Each cocktail glass was wiped and dusted to its prime pristine condition, every table and bar counter wiped down until not a speck of dust was present.

As the old clock mounted on the wall struck 8pm, a stream of Juju’s regulars barreled in with jovial energy as they chatted up about their days and stories to share. Within the hour, the snack bar was brimming with customers, a few which requested (Y/N) to perform for them.

Who was she to turn this down with everyone in such high spirits? The crowd sang along to the tunes she played, with laughter and cheers ringing out into the cold night. Just as it neared closing time, she volunteered to stay behind to clean and lock up while the bartender and owner headed out for the evening.

The door to the bar opened with a soft ring of the bell as she tidied up for the night.

“Sorry, we’re about to—” She stopped mid sentence the moment her gaze met a soft pair of familiar heterochromatic eyes and facial scar that was partially covered by his raven locks, looking hopeful at her. Her hands tightly gripped the bottle she was holding and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I finally found you…”

--END--

Taglist: @xngelsau @shizunxie @mikeysbabygirl @im-a-mf @garlicgarlicgirl

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