#deranged love

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 6

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 15 902

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Art that inspired : Link 1 - Link 2

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Blood and Injury // Violence // Torture // Dubious content

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To expect a silent ride as I got inside Rindou’s car was foolish.

The moment we arrived, he slid into his seat and handed me a pack of wipes, “You’re not getting in looking like that, take it off.” He nodded towards the bloody apron that I had long since forgotten I was wearing. The mere sight of it had me feeling slightly disgusted, so I was fast to clean myself up and untie it from the back, letting it drop to the ground. Barely a second passed and the man had something new to interject, “I didn’t say to toss it like a cum sock, are you dumb? It’s great quality, you know, some stuff butchers use and shit.” He started rummaging through the glove compartment then pulled out an empty, wrinkled plastic bag, handing it to me in a rush.

“Hold it open, please.” I said as I folded the apron with difficulty. The texture was not the easiest to bend and even less to grasp with all the blood that had tainted it, but I managed to do so, and shoved it inside the plastic bag Rindou was holding. Once done, he tied it closed and plopped it in my lap, “If it leaks, you pay for cleaning.” He commented.

I huffed a short laugh, “Not with how much money you all probably have.”

“It’s out of principle–” He started, ready to explain something I definitely did not care much about.

I nodded dramatically, putting on my seatbelt. “Of course, yeah, you’re full of those, aren’t you? Principles. I’m sure you’re also big on values.” I looked up at him with a mischievous, if not mocking smile as he stared at me in disbelief for a moment before laughing. Silently, I was relieved he found amusement in my words, but the relief did not last long when I saw on the car’s display screen a message that read rather simply:

Q-tip ☠️: OK.

It did not take much to understand this was Hanma, the dryness in his text pattern giving him away. Rindou huffed at the notification before starting the car. My own phone vibrated as well and I was fast to look at the incoming messages.

H.: If they lay a hand on you, I’m gonna need you to cut it.

H.: Can’t believe my doll can’t say no to losers.

H.: If I had a say in this, I’d do them a “Ran”.

I’m sure he was laughing to himself at that. I knew what he meant, there was no need for an over-complicated explanation: kidnap, drug and torture. Although the latter never truly did happen.

H.: But.

H.: You decided to go there with them.

H.: Out of your own free will.

H.: Whatever happens, happens.

It was much more ominous than necessary, I was only getting a few drinks with them. Did I not need to show everyone I was not as insane as they painted me to be? He should be thanking me for helping him–

You’re trying to make him jealous, there is no thanking you.

Facing straight ahead, I ignored her. It was easy to do when I could focus on Hanma’s new texts.

H.: I’ll be home late but I better have you conscious

H.: Not passed out drunk

H.: If you’re drunk you won’t remember to keep track of the shit I gotta beat them up for

That’s new, I thought, reading his messages over and over again. Some emotion was clearly showing a lot more than usual here and it was such a rare sight, but a sight that I still longed for nonetheless. 

Or did I? 

Did I really crave it at this very moment when it was completely uncalled for? Was it better to have it when it was not needed rather than not having it at all? I did not know.

He replied.

H.: Text every hour.

That simple text felt off-putting. It was strange to see him act almost caringly, and yet I smiled. No matter how thrown-off I was right now, there was something in my body that was screaming, fighting for more of whatever this was—as if I had already lost any chance of getting him to show me affection and I was now craving it again.

Again?

I feared losing him. Why? These emotions were rooted in nothing, he hadn’t shown me anything but devotion all this time.

So why did I have such a fear?

I typed back.

Not thinking for more than a second, I sent it. “There is a lot of catching up to do with them, you know, after years of being treated like a pariah. Your act is cute though, unsure it’ll make up for all we went through.” Reading it over again, my eyes widened and only one thought crossed my mind: what the hell did I just say?

Quickly, I typed back.

Me: I don’t know why I said that

Me: Haha

Me: I’ll be careful

I pondered over my options for a second, weighing the pros and cons of adding to the already weird thread the rest of the rambles in my mind. The debate did not last long.

Me: But it’s

Me: Cute

Me: When you’re worried

Me: It’ll be okay, I’m just trying to fix my fuck-up so you don’t get more hate

Me: Not that I’m your knight in shining armor or anything

Me: But I’m not going to just do nothing

Me: What I’m saying is

Me: I’ll be fine.

With a quick glance at Rindou, whose eyes were fixed on the road, I replied once more to Hanma who had kept awfully silent since the beginning of my constant messaging.

Me: They’ve got nothing on you

Me: You are the only one for me.

H.: [image]

An audible gasp escaped my lips as I saw the photo he had sent me. Something inside me lit up at the sight, a mix of nostalgia and something much deeper, much stronger. It made a grin slowly creep on my face. Back then, I hardly would have believed it, had anyone told me I would be giddy at the sight of a dead hooker on the ground. And yet, something else was boiling inside me.

Then his text had it all blow up.

H.: You think I’m jealous?

There was a name to that feeling.

Ire.

Ire upon seeing her, because even dead, I couldn’t help but wonder how far he had gone. With his touches, his kisses, his words, his lies, all to try to get her to give him any sort of information. Those actions were reserved for me, only me, not her. Not anyone else.

Me: Glad she’s dead

The words were dry and yet, his interest was piqued.

H.: Yeah?

I started typing instantly but had to stop. I could not put it into words without sounding crazy, so I looked up at Rindou and hesitated a moment before asking him, “Say, how do I tell him that wherever that bitch touched him is foul, and dirty, and I need to touch him, feel him and make him understand that she was shit and–”

Rindou cut me off by holding up a hand towards me, a sign for me to stop. His eyes were wide from the little I had already told him, and for a split second I regretted saying anything. He shook his head, “How about… hello? Fuck, woman, you’re insane.” He sighed, a short pause before another louder sigh, “Let me think.” His eyes focused back on the road, a side glance thrown my way beforehand.

I decided he needed to know more about the situation and resumed, “I think he’s trying to make me jealous, which is working, except that I thought we were past that—the whole ‘whore pictures being sent while we’re both doing something different’, you know?” I took a deep breath and looked down at my phone once more, no new messages from Hanma.

“Yeah… uh? I don’t know, if that was me I’d wanna hear like… shit, I don’t know, both of you are insane anyway!” He then batted his eyes at me, clearly joking, “Let Poe possess you or whatever, let your heart speak or something.” He said the last part in a higher tone, mockingly, but who was he imitating? I had no idea.

Giving him a curt nod, I added a dry smile, “You’re useless, thank you for nothing.” With that, I let my fingers type anything that came to mind at this point.

Me: I have lots of thoughts on all the ways I’ll fuck you to get rid of HER

Me: can’t imagine what you did to get her to speak

Me: but I'll fuck it out of you

A beat.

He was typing once more. I had stepped out of my comfort zone, out of all of the boundaries of what I believed I was allowed to tell him. It had my heart beating so fast, I started feeling the tiniest bit dizzy. Maybe even nauseous. My body was colder than usual, I was nervous of his answer. Fearful, even.

H.: Haha

H.: Yeah?

H.: My girl’s possessive?

H.: But you’re not in charge.

H.: We’ll see when you get home

H.: And frankly? It’s too down bad of you to be jealous of a dead girl.

H.: Glad my doll’s still mine. It’s fun, you know? This little thing you’re doing.

Me: I’ll return the favor. We’ll see how much fun you have as the night goes on, Shuji

Me: 😛

Then I put the phone away. He had decided to make me jealous on purpose, sure. But now I wished he’d feel what I felt. He needed to understand me. I could regret fucking around. I could. Or I could not.

Looking up at Rindou, I grinned, “All good now, he’s cool with us getting a drink.”

The younger brother shrugged, “I very much doubt he is but I couldn’t care less—what I care about is knowing this, were you sexting that fucker right next to me?” Hearing his words, I froze and turned around to look at the road with an overly dramatic pout as I shook my head slowly, “Nah. Nah, I wouldn’t do that.”

He burst out laughing, “Get help, for real.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you can all text your women during a meeting, but I can’t send fun stuff to my man while you’re driving?” I scoffed, a genuine smile on my lips at the light banter I was having with him. For all the time I had known him, and most of the executives, it was one of the rare times I had fun with any of them. Grabbing his phone, I skipped some songs and put the volume louder, “Fake ass.” I commented jokingly.

For a moment, I could ignore her in the backseat. It was much easier like this, music blasting and someone to push any thoughts of her away. But she never truly left.

Relief coursed through my body when, after about fifteen minutes, Rindou pulled up the car in front of a fancy-looking place. He handed his keys to a valet and gestured for me to follow, grinning like an asshole, “What, never saw a valet? There’s no way I’m taking hours trying to park this baby.” He tilted his head to the side in a condescending manner. It made me click my tongue against my teeth as I gave him a deadpan look. He pursed his lips, “Come on, don’t give me that look, you’ll get used to the fancy stuff.”

“I’d rather not get used to valets, it’s too snobbish for my taste.” I said, joining him as he stopped in front of the glass door of a well-renovated building. Just by the sight of it, I knew that shit was elitist, but those places knew how to handle things. The bodyguard would probably send away anyone not dressed suitably enough for the high exclusivity of the place, or people that were certainly in immense debt from showing off more money than they really had. But here? He did not check me for anything, no name, no weapon—nothing.

I watched his eyes linger only barely on Rindou, which was enough to show he had recognized him. If not by his tattoo, there were surely more things to identify him, with what people would have gathered from gossiping. For just a short moment, I debated making myself small so I would not be stopped, but there was no time for that, I was part of Bonten as much as anyone.

With my chin held high, I entered the place and immediately felt the change in the air as people seemed to be all too aware of us—no, not us, I reminded myself. Just Rindou. 

I wondered.

People must have recognized his status from the tattoo, which in the long-run would not work enough for me because, realistically, what could I do? Lift my shirt every time I enter a place to show I was an executive? No. I could do better, I needed something to be known for.

A reputation would help.

Another man we walked past gave me a once over and stopped at my face—no, not my face, the side of it. It was just for a few seconds, but I was too conscious of myself in this place to miss it.

The earring.

His earring.

Even now, alone, without him here, I was simply his.

I liked it. I loved him. But there was this sense of self that I was losing in the process of only being acknowledged as The Reaper’s girl. My fingers grazed the jewelry gently, slowly, so delicately I held back a chuckle at how it contrasted all that had happened earlier. 

What had happened earlier? What happened today? I couldn’t remember it all, only some flashes of a memory, but it seemed that I had left a man on the floor. It was all fuzzy and very blurry. I knew Koko and Rindou had been there with me, but what would it look like if I started asking them for help to clear up my mind?

As I followed Rindou further in the dark room, we reached an area further in the back that had a nice round table, on one side a crescent-shaped bench split in two and on the other two beautiful chairs with soft cushions and armrests.

“Look what my brother dragged in, the crazy bitch!” Ran exclaimed, his arms resting on the back of the bench seats. His words broke me out of my daydreaming, Rindou spoke before I could, “Listen, I don’t like the bitch much, but she has potential.” He pushed me forward, presenting me like a gift, almost making my leg hit the table, “Don’t you? Tell ‘em what you did, it was super fun, right?” He then moved around the table to sit by Sanzu’s side with a huff and his huge asshole smile. I stood in front of them feeling hopeless and put on the spot, Ran to the right, Sanzu in the middle and Rindou, who had just joined in on the left.

My mouth felt dry, so dry that no words came out and I had a hard time swallowing—for some reason, this entire situation felt like I was being bullied by the mean girls in high school, which I could not let slide. I did not remember much of what I had done, but I could fake it, so I straightened my back and huffed a laugh, “Bring some refreshments,” I said with a mocking tone, “I’m not the jester that’s going to give you entertainment, so I’ll sit down, we’ll get some drinks, and then we will talk, good?” It was only as I pulled up a chair, not wanting to sit next to them, that I noticed how few people were around us; we were much further back than the escorts and rich men at the very front.

Simply calling it a ‘VIP section’ was embarrassing given the look of the place, even more so knowing there was no delimited area that would make one believe so. It was just an unspoken rule of sorts. People seemed to know not to sit in the back, nor to look over here either. Only a few of them dared to steal furtive glances our way as they would pretend to reach for something in their bags or their coat pockets, or even as they would call for the waiters. A few seconds was all they allowed themselves to gaze over.

Finally, as I sat, I caught Ran’s gaze and rolled my eyes before he could speak, “Should you fear for your drink? Yes, but only if you can’t let go of the past—no, because, you know, I am a changed woman.” I paused, leaning on the table, “We’ve both grown, you and I, is it that hard to–”

Ran was still pissed off. Granted, his anger was founded, but it was more than a year ago now, how petty could he be? He interrupted me and huffed, “I’ll keep an eye out anyway.”

With a heavy sigh, I ran a hand over my face, “Well, I won’t do shit to your drink, but it’s your call!” I then looked at Rindou and clasped my hands in front of me, “Drinks then! Let your paranoid brother get his own drink himself, I will show good faith and let you order for me.” I gave him a short smile, which fell rapidly when the younger brother mimicked my position and leaned on the table himself, fist against his cheek, “You’re paying then?”

I had little to no energy to feel called out or embarrassed. These men were loaded, of course I had no intent to pay. They knew that and I knew that, but they were also dicks and the only way to pay them back in the same coin was to play to their weaknesses. I smirked, “Oh, need mommy to get your stuff? Wanna get spoiled?” I asked mockingly, a fake pout on my lips as I pleaded, for more theatrics. It had Sanzu laughing as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him.

The Haitanis were not talking, so I continued. This time, I gestured like I was going to tell them a secret, my hand half covering my mouth as if I was whispering into their ears but everyone could hear. It was all for fun. At least I was having fun, “Rin, you should have told me it was hard financially, but I’m feeling generous.” To make it even more believable, I reached out for my wallet only to have Rindou shove my hand back inside the bag, “That’s not how it’s fucking done.” He sighed, glancing at the two other men.

The three men got their wallets out and then tossed their cards onto the plate in the middle of the table—so this was what it was used for? I was convinced it was for cocaine. I was not going to join them on their little wealth show-off, although it made sense for them not to openly debate who would pay. Relying on chance and the innocent hand of the waiter was much more logical.

Unbothered by their paying off my share, I gasped jokingly, “Here I thought chivalry was dead!” with a short pause, I resumed, “I will take whatever drink, as long as it’s not roofied.” I winked at Ran who mumbled something under his breath. I was probably pushing the joke too far, but I had no idea what to talk about with them, maybe I was just panicking.

Rin raised his hand to call the waiter over, which made me realize I would have been stupid enough to think they would have gone to the bar to order and grab their orders. This did not look like just any random bar, and if some would have found it polite for the people inviting you to get your drinks, they did not do those things. They did diplomacy at certain times, but they also mainly did demonstrations of status—their reputation allowed them a great many things, amidst them some freedoms which they did not take. I was certain they could be the worst people if they wanted to, but had an amount of decency that kept them somewhat humble.

Surely, if someone rubbed them the wrong way they would make themselves heard, but until then, they would just be treated like royalty in silence.

As we watched the waiter walk away with our order in mind, Rindou was the first to talk, “So, Ran, how many old hags are gonna be drooling over your ass at that gay ball?”

Ran raised a brow, “Is it gay ‘cause Koko’s throwing it or…” He joked, making everyone but myself laugh. I hadn’t yet got accustomed to their humor and I was starting to understand it was as low as it could get. I even found myself wishing I could have made this up, just to spare me the disappointment of finding out that no matter their status in the world, men would remain just that: men.

“I would think his looks are too eclectic for old women.” I commented, getting Sanzu to hum as he took his drink from the tray the waiter brought. As he put the glass down, he nodded at me, “You’d be surprised—no, cause I’m also surprised, have you seen the man?”

I gave Ran a good look, taking a sip from my own drink, shrugging, “Objectively, he isn’t shabby, you know? Now, here,” I tapped my head with my index finger, hinting at his personality, “is where it gets ugly.” It had him seething, it was quite enjoyable to see. What would he do? Throw a fight in public? I grinned and added, “But hey, they wouldn’t find out for one night, right?” Ran’s lack of laughter at my unsavory comment made the two other men laugh even more, they were thriving on his misery, at least to some extent.

The short-haired man leaned back in his seat, glass in hand as he raised it towards me, “It has to do with my charm, my charisma, maybe even my poise.” He gave me a side glance, his eyes traveling over my form only slightly before meeting my eyes again, his finger raised from the glass to point at me, “Not that you would know much about any of this.”

I took offense.

“Arrogance and being born with a silver spoon in your mouth must play in your favor with wealthy grandmas, right?” I then shook my head, clenching my jaw in annoyance only slightly as I theatrically thought hard before smiling, “No, wait, wait, it’s on the tip of my tongue, there’s a word that…” I stuck my tongue out, muttering inarticulately before exclaiming, “Ah, yes! Privilege! That’s what best describes you.” And it was what lost me points with Rindou too, pointing fingers at his brother meant pointing fingers at him. I hardly knew anything about their past, but I knew they were born from wealth, whatever happened afterwards must have been the byproduct of their greed and need to rebel.

Clasping my lips together, I drank some more and raised my brows, looking around, “So do we have some games here or is it just gossiping like bitter old people?”

Rin’s smile grew, “Both.”

I was not stupid enough to not realize the tension I had brought, but there was no apologizing to be done, they did not care for such things. Instead, I hummed while thinking, “Blackjack? Poker?” I was starting to grow bored, but I needed to get along with them. They shouldn’t be too bad, I could prove to them I was still socially apt—I needed to show Hanma I could have fun without him while he was around having fun with whores for show.

Sanzu downed the rest of his drink and nodded before raising a hand to call for someone. A beautiful woman hurried to the table and leaned in, I could read on his lips “Bring some fun.” She then nodded and walked away as fast as she came—my eyes trailed on her for a moment, not even attempting to gauge how stressed she must be. She hid it well, not one misstep, not one mistake, she spoke to someone in the back who disappeared before coming out with a small table.

The pink-haired man nudged my foot, “You into girls too?” he said with a huge smile.

“I’m taken, does it really matter?” I said with a sigh, wincing when he nudged me harder, “Yeah, it matters! Everyone needs to know if you’re into pu–” There was no need for his vulgarity, really, but they were too close as friends to not be comfortable speaking with each other like that. With ‘providers’ or ‘clients’ they would be eloquent, not here though. “She is very cute, but I was watching mostly in awe at how she was dealing with you both.”

Leaning back in his seat, Sanzu gave me a pitying look, his arms draping on the back of the cushions, “It’s insane how badly that fucker got inside your head, everyone’s in the wrong but him, right?” He stated, a growing smile on his lips. I frowned for a second, my hand gripping my thigh in anger but I did not break eye contact, instead, I hummed, “I can easily recall all the crazy shit I was put through because of–”

“Because of him, really. Thought you’d know by now. Every errand you were ever sent on went through him first, part of some whatever elaborate fucking scheme, I’d imagine. Mikey always lets it happen ‘cause your man’s not as unimportant as he wants everyone to believe.” He continued, nodding at the waitress that came by, placing a beautiful ornate tray with white powder on it before bowing and getting out of the way once more. Sanzu raised a finger, gesturing that he needed a moment before he could go on. He used one of the cards in the middle of the table to draw four perfect lines on the tray before sniffing one; he then pushed the tray over to Rindou as he resumed, “Mikey’s had enough though, he doesn't like the fucker having him by the balls much. The Reaper’s pet project’s gonna have to come to an end, he should be reminded that you’re Bonten’s, not his.” He brushed off some leftovers from under his nose and grinned at me.

I could feel myself growing angrier and yet part of me could not believe he was lying, instead it felt all too real. I couldn't help but slightly fear what they would do more, other than breaking Hanma and I apart. I would not let it happen. I would not let them continue on that stupid topic.

The tray had passed by Ran, who then handed it to me with boredom in his eyes as I grabbed it with bitterness, unsure why I did what I did. After telling Shiho time and time again not to touch that shit, I brought the tray to my face and blocked one of my nostrils, snorting the rail Sanzu had prepared. I handed him back the tray and glared, “Always these talks about belonging, Bonten, The Reaper, the streets—it’s all the same, isn’t it? I don’t have much choice where the fuck I end up. It almost feels like this sense of independence is fake.” I scoffed, holding back a smile when the three men seemed slightly surprised not by my words, I was aware, but by the fact I had indeed taken them up on their offer.

“If my custody’s going to change, I say we should have one last fun night before it all goes to shit, yeah?” I grabbed their cards between my fingers and shook my head, tutting, “No more drinks, mixing’s bad.” Waiters finally brought a fully set poker table over, which I thanked them for as one of them stayed behind. He placed himself behind the table where the dealer’s spot would be. I gave him a strange look then faced back the other men at the table, “One great, entertaining, not-stereotypical rich people game of poker, then I have plans for us.” I said with a grin. I was all too bold with my words and my attitude right now, I almost reminded myself of Shiho, but it did not matter.

Rindou nodded, “Oh yeah, I’m in, the bar’s high though. Better make it count.”

“If Rin’s in, I’m in.” Ran rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the stupid smile on his lips upon seeing his brother this excited for this. They were a pair, a duo meant for drama and insanity. Sanzu’s smile widened, “I’m all for—huh, shit how did she put it…” He seemed to think for a while, dragging his words before pulling his phone out and looking at something, “Teenaged girlies night out?” He said in a confused tone, most likely quoting something Shiho told him. A loud snort escaped my nose as I barked a laugh, “Definitely that!” I exclaimed.

The three men gave me a judgmental look that I ignored as the dealer handed us our cards and I couldn’t help the smile on my lips at the thought of Shiho. Frankly, it was all too stereotypical to play poker on a night out, boring too, but if I had to go through that to have free reign on what to do next, then I would.

The Haitani brothers were more the gaslighting type, reacting too much or too little on purpose, which was the goal, but they also seemed to give each other looks to help one another. Sanzu however was good at this. He kept a deadpan, straight face. I played the first-time-playing card, which was a lie, but it sure was fun to see them all very confident in their games when they ‘knew’ what I had, from my ‘reactions’ that gave away everything.

It took way too long for one game however, long enough for the effect of the initial high to wane off. Long enough for Sanzu and Ran to fold, while Rindou and I stared at each other, trying to guess one another’s next move while debating what to do next at the same time.

Raise or fold? Raise… or fold.

“Raise.” I said, adding half my chips and giving Rindou a tight smile.

He seemed taken aback by my action which, in all fairness, I understood since I also surprised myself by doing that. I was not one to play poker in the first place, even less with these very specific men, not that they were that bad as people but they were not my friends. I do recall playing one time with Shiho. I think we had other people with us, but I don't recall anyone that really struck me as important and so it was quite quickly erased from my memory. 

I even started doubting my memory. Sometimes I would remember things that I was certain happened—except that they didn't. I suppose I had to blame that on my very vivid dreams, those dreams that I have been having for quite a while now, the very ones that seemed so real, horrific, traumatizing. 

But now was not the time to think back on those, I had in front of me a Haitani brother sweating, panicked, out of his wits. I really enjoyed the sight. 

I knew who else would enjoy the sight, Shiho—if she was here, she would have been laughing her ass off at the sight of the brother in front of me. I only played poker a few times with her but I knew she was good at it, or at least she is good at leading people on, meaning that I'm sure she would have won against those three men. 

But she was not here.

I was. 

I was the one who was forced to work with these three men. In some way, I was happy that she was not here because it meant she was safely tucked away, not forced to partake in this show-off of a lifestyle. In all honesty, I never really wondered if I would ever get used to this, but I think it should not be too hard to start to like luxury. I deserved it. I had worked my part so I deserved that, the money, the fancy restaurants, everything—even better: they owed it to me for ruining my life. 

Maybe I couldn't really say that they ruined my life because I couldn’t really blame them for all of this; after all, it all started with Hanma, and I wanted to thank him for coming into my life because he made me happy. So maybe they just owed me for traumatizing me and for making me kill people—ah, and also for ruining any chances I had at being a good person? 

I paused my train of thought.

Or maybe they didn't owe me anything… maybe I enjoyed this way too much for it to be a punishment, to be something I regretted.

Enjoyed it? 

I did.

I did enjoy this.

I enjoyed having them look at me annoyedly. I enjoyed them making me think I was not worth anything, because if they thought that, it only pushed me to go further and further—it only pushed me to break the limits, to show them what I could do, to show them I can be like them.

I could be worse than them.

Yeah, I could be worse than them, but even then, being worse than them would be the moment they would consider me as merely an equal. Which was funny, I suppose. That even if I was smarter, or more than them on any level, I would only be considered at best an equal. Never better. So I will become smarter, I will become more efficient, I will become something that Mikey can rely on, because the moment he relied on me, I would be worth something. 

The pieces were coming together.

It was not the time for me to be thinking about this. It had only been a few seconds since I was lost in thought, but I was still gauging the situation. Losing or winning did not matter, what did matter was seeing Rindou pissed off. What also mattered was seeing all these men turn angry upon losing against someone who had barely played this game, even better, to know that they had lost to a woman.

The expressions that would adorn their faces would be so beautiful.

Rindou looked at me and smiled as he said, “Raise.”

He was quite fast to collect himself, but so was I. He could be bluffing, I believed he was, and I trusted the cards I had in hand. Rindou shook his head, “No, not raise. All in.” The look on his face was the one of a maniac, nothing like even the one Sanzu would often bear, and I would have been scared of losing, potentially, had Rindou not been acting.

I could be wrong. He could be bluffing, but I only had one option, so I followed my gut. Mimicking him, I pushed my chips forward at the center of the table and held his gaze before giving him a small smile, “All in it is!”

His eyes widened, had he expected me to fold? Let me laugh. All that was now left was to show our cards and I did so with pride and arrogance—Rindou’s hand was nothing like mine, he had lost.

Wrapping my arms around the chips, I gave him a short bow, “Thank you for this very entertaining game, I would assume everything will be taken care of and I won’t need to do shit, yes?” I asked, addressing the men around the table, dealer included. The men I knew personally seemed bothered, because of course, had Rindou won, they would have been ecstatic. Instead, I earned some eye rolls and disdain.

Rindou stood up and grabbed his vest, looking back at me with a short grin as he said, “Well then! Let’s go? I think our girl had some plans—but hey, since you just received your first big money, you’re going to pay for your plans, okay?”

The dealer left with everything, some people helping him carry it all as we stood up. I heard Sanzu mutter something to Ran and turned around to see he had bent to the tray once more for more rails of coke. Catching me glancing at them, they raised a brow and pointed at the tray, then at me.

Did I want more? The effects I felt had long since dissipated, but…

Do you really want to anger him? He told you specifically not to do those things.

Why did it matter? He should be mad, I wanted him mad, filled with so much pent-up anger that he would need an outlet for it all, and I would be that for him.

A short nod is what I gave them before leaning in and sniffing a badly done line. I felt a hand on my head as I did so. A gentle ruffle from the hand that remained on top of my head as I straightened my back, then I heard Rindou say, “Good girl, see, you can have fun.”

Quickly, I slapped his hand away and gave him a side glance, “Yeah, don’t do that. Thank you.”

“I have plans, if any of you care.” I said once we were outside the club and ready for the night to continue. Ran sighed loudly, “Why do you think we’re outside? Just talk.”

Excited, I grinned and pointed at the four of us in a circle, “We are going to have a challenge, each other—”

“You’re the most challenged, Rin, you won, what’s next?” Ran said, taking a drag from his cigarette, the hint of a smirk in the corner of his lips. His brother did not hold back when punching him, both of them laughing in the aftermath while Ran finished smoking and stepping on the butt he had dropped on the ground. “Rin-rin, you’re dead.” He laughed, blood trickling from his nose.

Sanzu stepping between them was enough to deter both brothers who laughed even more upon having to be stopped. Somehow, their laughter was contagious and I found myself holding back a smile as I continued, “We’re going to have to find more coke—or any drugs for that matter, the organic way, okay?” They seemed confused, so I gestured for them to wait a moment as I found a better way to express myself. I started pointing my fingers one by one as I said, “You all have a reputation, we are going to be lowkey tonight, without going to people or selling spots you know. We are going to have to get our hands on something.”

They seemed intrigued, so I continued, “So we will call each other, cameras on, once we get the goods. The first one to get their hands on something wins.”

Sanzu chuckled, “Yeah? And what’s the prize?”

Shushing him, I added, “Wait, wait. Rule also is you only have a 5-block radius, we know this area is super fancy so you’re bound to find some shit.” I paused and smiled, “The prize is… huh, it’s–”

Rin wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “I think it’s fun enough like this, if a prize is needed we’ll claim it, don’t you worry.”

“Okay?” I slid away from his grasp and gestured for them to pull out their phones, “Rindou, can you create a group chat real quick? It’ll be better for when we do find it—you’re fast, damn.” I muttered the last part under my breath when I received the notification of the new conversation that had popped on my screen.

“Alright, we split, bye.” I quickly said before walking away not fast enough to look suspicious, but fast enough to feel embarrassed about it, at least to some extent. The neighborhood was familiar, the moment we turned into the street in Rindou’s car I had recognized it, so I rushed to a place where I was sure to find sellers. It felt wrong to be back at that place after all this time—ever since that Halloween I hadn’t returned here.

The almost rape that had happened by that asshole of a cope, or the weird moment I had had at the time with Hanma in the alley, both seemed to be valid reasons to avoid this place. I suppose also when the cops brought me to the hospital thinking Shuusuke was my boyfriend and that I cared. Maybe that was one of the turning points.

All of these seemed good enough to argue my lack of return here.

What ultimately tossed these to the side for now was my need to show off and to belong. So, with a newfound confidence, I straightened my back and stepped inside the building only to get stopped by security. Taking a deep breath, I gave the man a slow once-over and met him dead in the eyes, “Not to flash you or anything, but–” I was about to show him my tattoo when a hand interrupted me and Ran’s voice rang, “She’s with me.”

The guard let us pass and I almost stomped away from Ran, had it not been for him grabbing my arm. “Come on, crazy frog, you were speeding down that path so fast I almost didn’t catch you. You don’t have to run like that.” He said with a smirk.

“I do believe this is a competition,” I snatched my arm from his hand, “Thank you for helping me get in, you really, really didn’t have to.”

He raised both his hands in fake defense and laughed, “Shit, you’re mad, I wonder what that’ll look like—you know, if when you’re desperate you drug people, then if you’re mad, what? You’ll kill ‘em?”

“I would have laughed, I swear, I just missed the cue.” I stated with a straight expression.

He stared me dead in the eyes, silent, the music blasting in the background being the sole thing we could hear. Then he huffed a laugh. Small, but noticeable. I matched it then looked around, maybe proud that he had let me in a little after all the time I’d spent trying to get back on his semi-good side.

“You can un-leech yourself from me now, I’ll do my thing, you do yours–” I started before two guys stood up from the bar and made their way towards us. Had my mind not been ringing an alarm bell upon seeing their faces, I would have been laughing at how comical they looked, one walking much faster than the other while the calmer one tried to hold him back. But why did they seem familiar? My entourage was rather limited, and I hardly could imagine I knew anyone from work that would hang around these parts.

Work—it was about work, the dots were connecting, but not fast enough. The angrier man tried to swing at me, only for Ran to grab his arm and knee it at the elbow. Before he could scream in pain, Ran covered the man’s mouth. Two security guards were instantly at our side, grabbing the second man and following the Haitani brother as he dragged his struggling victim out of sight.

I couldn’t hear anything of what these two strangers were saying, but Ran met my gaze and gestured for me to follow him. I don’t know why, but I did it without a second thought, maybe because my mind was still scanning for any flash of remembrance about these two men. As we crossed the main room to reach a back one, I was lost in thought.

Work—two men, why would they be angry? Why would they be here? Nothing specific happened at this date ever, it was not an anniversary of anything. No, something must have happened at some point. Work… here… last time these two places were connected, I was here with–

Me! I’m sure you’re coming to the conclusion fast enough.

Closing my eyes for a moment to compose myself, I followed Ran through the crowd, ignoring her. Halloween night? Dread filled me in an instant. That night, it had been Rai, her boyfriend Kei, Shiho who had long since slipped away and met Sanzu for the very first time—I was there too, and a random man that had so little impact on the night, I had forgotten about him. I couldn’t picture his face, I had barely glanced at him. This was not the moment for that, I needed to remember if it was him.

Not enough time was allowed for me to think further than that as Ran grabbed my arm and dragged me inside a room, grumbling something under his breath before slamming the door shut and letting out a loud sigh. “Usually I’d let our men take care of two shit-stirrers like you, but this is deeper than that—you are tied to her, right?” He said, pointing at me, a huge grin on his face.

“I didn’t do shit, don’t point fingers at me.” I stated in annoyance while all too aware that one of these men was familiar.

The angry one seemed ticked off by my words as he laughed maniacally, his hand reaching for the gun at his waist before his friend stopped him. I did not have my gun, and Ran seemed unreactive or not scared enough to care, so I thanked the man, “Keep your friend in check, I have no idea what he is talking about.”

“Oh yeah, of course, of course you don’t—yes you fucking do! Shuusuke, Kei, you know them! I don’t have enough proof yet, but you’re the one responsible for all of it!”

And maybe I shouldn’t have spoken the following thoughts out loud, maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, but I did not. Instead I shook my head, “Credit where credit goes, I sure took care of officer Hansuke, but Kei was not my dutiful work.”

Before a silence could settle I gasped, “You’re Aoto! I think Rai mentioned you somehow at some point too, she said you would easily get angry but hmm—he has a good heart, very reliable.” I said. Ran looked at me strangely for a second and not any longer, if anything he was giving me the floor to deal with the situation so I did. I looked around the room, trying to find any weapon and I wondered why there were close to none. It seemed stupid, but when I walked past the men, for some reason I knew Aoto would not grab me. He didn’t, he seemed too confused. His composure had long since dissolved, perhaps since the moment he had seen me enter the club.

Rummaging through the desk in the room, I kept talking, “But the big fella I don’t know—not that it matters, I think my question is why are you both here?” There it is.

Aoto replied, “For payback.”

Without thinking, I clicked my tongue against my teeth and gave them both a grimace as I closed the drawers and shook my head, “Now that’s a bit silly, don’t you think Ran?” I asked, watching his bored expression lock on my face as he blinked slowly before leaning against one of the shelves and crossing his arms. Giving me a smirk, he mimicked zipping his mouth shut, tilting his head to the side before extending his hand forward in a welcoming manner, as if to tell me to do this on my own, to do as I pleased.

Was he lazy or did he trust me?

Was it a test or was I finally being valued?

“Ouchie, now that is bad for both of you. I usually confer with someone before acting, but if it’s just me—I’ll give you my two cents, okay?” I asked lightly.

Aoto, who was still standing, suddenly rushed towards me, “I don’t fucking care, you killed them both–” Sharp. Not enough. It did the trick, though. One, two, three droplets on the floor and it wasn’t stopping. I could feel the blood dripping down the scissors and onto my fingers. As I tried to shove them further inside his stomach, my fingers felt around the wound and my eyes widened.

“What if I did this?” I breathed out. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Ran keeping the taller man back from coming towards me and even within the few seconds of our gazes locking, I hoped he had understood I was thanking him. If I did not have to worry about the other one, I could do whatever with Aoto. And I did—pulling the scissors out, I shoved my fingers inside the two holes and pressed hard, making him grimace as he bent over in pain, screaming, swearing and grunting.

It was so fascinating to see how I could make him feel more pain than sharp metal inside his body.

Humming, I waited a few seconds then leaned over to his ear and asked, “When’s payback starting?” Before he could react, I had pulled back and kneed him in the nose, “From what I understand, you’re a loose string, Mister Aoto—and I don’t like that much, I cut my loose strings.”

He let out a pained scoff, “We’re close to getting the camera feed back from the hospital, you’re going down–”

Swift, rough. Efficient.

The closed pair of scissors entered from under his chin and came out from his open mouth as blood poured in a steady stream from it, eyes wide in horror.

“Not to mansplain or anything, but you already told me all that I needed to know, so why would I keep you alive? That was a big mistake on your part and…” I tossed the scissors on the floor before pushing him down. He fell with a mute thud as his friend was still being held back, Ran’s hand clasped on his mouth. “And I think we can blame this on your being hysterical, you know? You came for me, all angry, you let your emotions take control, that was embarrassing—your friend tried to keep you in check, but…” I continued with a tense smile to the tall man that was pleading with his eyes. My gaze flickered from the body on the floor to the weapon, to my bloody hands—what have I done?

Suddenly, I was speaking more, “But your friend should die too, he saw too much and you know how it goes—the more witnesses, the more they might have this hero complex and want to take justice in their own hands.” I paused and grabbed the scissors back from the floor, “We don’t want that.” Seeing the stains on the floor, I felt sorry for whoever would have to clean this up later, but I was quick to focus back on the restrained man in the room.

“Picture me giving you a big speech, I don’t really want to do that right now. Plus, who knows, maybe you’re bugged–” 

The man interrupted me in a soft tone, “Thank you.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and glanced at Ran in confusion. He shrugged in response.

“Aoto would come here every night, hoping he would see you again or the other girls that were there with you–” He choked on some tears and gave me a huge smile, “You ruined him, you know? I lost him that night—when you sent Shuusuke to the hospital.” 

Interrupting him in return, I gripped his jaw tight, “I did not do that, I accompanied him there. Get your facts straight,” Laughing, I dug my fingers further inside his cheeks and never unlocked my gaze from his, “And it was well deserved too. Seems like those who enforce the law are the most unresponsive to it, don’t you think?”

I took a few steps back and put the back of my hand on my forehead dramatically, “No, please stop!” Then met his gaze, “So he continued.”

“No to racism!” I mimicked someone holding a sign then met his gaze, “And yet they’re so fucking keen on beating up people a different skin tone than them!”

About to continue my point, I stopped and watched as Ran snapped the man’s neck without thinking much about it and dropped him on the floor, giving me a weirded out look, “That was embarrassing to watch, maybe don’t do theatrics like that. What would you do if the last thing you saw was a bitch giving you the whole ‘all cops are bad’ speech?”

Slowly, Ran sat down and I followed his movements by sliding into one of the seats myself, letting out a long sigh. “You’re right.”

He smiled proudly and I immediately added, “Which I will only say this one time—the moment he mentioned Shiho and Rai, I guess I took it personally and–”

Our phones rang at the same time, cutting me off in my rant that I realized was not aimed at the right person. If I had to talk about this with someone it would be Shiho or Hanma, why was I trying to talk about my feelings to Ran Haitani out of everyone in this world? I let out a scoff and grabbed my phone, pulling myself together just from that.

“Ah, so he renamed the group chat—Team Rindou?”

Ran laughed loudly as he exclaimed, “Yeah, fucker was fast to get his hands on some shit—not just any good stuff.” He trailed off, zooming on the picture Rindou had sent in the groupchat, a woman in his lap as he dangled a little pack of powder in front of the camera. The picture that followed was with all the other different drugs on a table, probably a party he had managed to get invited to—no, it was not just any party.

“Dude, he for real is in the main room. That’s the table of this place, that’s–” I stood up and opened the door to see him in the corner of the room with a few girls around him, “I guess we all had the same idea.” I muttered under my breath.

A text popped on the screen as Sanzu told us he was on his way here since he was not going to stay in the streets if the game was over. It was getting late, so I was confused as to why he was not just going back home, but I followed along as Ran pushed me out of the room, his hand on my lower back. I quickly shoved it away, feeling the touch so foreign on my body that it made me feel unsafe. Jokingly, I said, “Get your dirty hands off me.” 

To which he countered, “Look at your own hands then say that again, yeah?”

“You don’t like my aesthetic?” I asked comically.

He gave me a weird look, “Just go wash your hands and keep your mouth shut, it’s insane how much you talk for jack shit.”

With a roll of my eyes, I left his side and got to the bathroom where a few women were already queuing. Waiting at the end of the line, I felt the warm air coming from behind—from the alleyway where so much had happened almost two years ago. I held back from looking that way, knowing it would not help with my current state but when I heard my name being called, I could not help but look over at the open door. 

The sound was repeated.

Almost like a whisper.

Not a whisper, no… a pained moan.

Don’t go looking for it. Shit, I was exhausted.

“Are you waiting too?” I heard someone ask, bringing me back from my lost thoughts.

Nodding, I quickly stepped ahead, noticing the queue was gone, and entered the bathroom.

The light was too bright, and the dull buzzing of the music did not help one bit with the growing headache I now realized I had. Blinking slowly, I watched my reflection and squinted to see what was on my face—I leaned over a bit and noticed a few droplets of blood on my forehead. Making a grossed-out expression, I dunked my hands under the water and scrubbed them clean before doing the same on my face. I couldn’t be more grateful for the other women in the restroom that were chatting loud enough to drown out any upcoming thoughts. 

It was almost nostalgic.

Like that fateful night, the one where everything started to go downhill. Were there any signs that I was going to go this far for him? So far that all I could do now was live for him? I chuckled to myself, daydreaming as I pictured our time in this bathroom with Shiho and the girls.

The girls, Aiko and Rai were more closed off to all of this, but they were trying to have fun. Rai was the one who was trying to pretty herself up for that cop, she wanted to flirt more and have him as hers. Shiho had tried her best to hype her up, but with the little confidence Rai had, I’m not sure it–

Are you done?

I huffed a laugh, I was not even allowed to remember the good times. She would make sure of that.

I said, are you done?

Turning around to look at Rai, I rolled my eyes, “Why is it that the moment I’m alone you talk to me? I said get the fuck out of my head!” I went to push her, expecting her to disappear but as I did, and felt my hands hitting shoulders, her face changed into that of a stranger who was in shock—I immediately stepped back and apologized, “Shit, sorry. No, I didn’t mean it, I–”

“Damn, I just needed to use the sink, girl, you’ve been at it for 10 minutes?!” She exclaimed, shoving me aside in annoyance as she went about her life. Mumbling another apology, I rushed out of the room after drying my hands and shook my head, in disbelief of what I had done. To try to forget about whatever happened, I pushed my way to where I found the three men sitting. Sanzu scooted to the side a bit to make some room for me to sit between him and Rindou, patting the seat, with Ran sat next to his brother. The scarred man had his arms on the back of the couch spread wide, imposingly, sending the message he would not be bothered tonight and that no one should come by. They looked cozy like this, almost as if they were winding down in a big group hug on this couch and they were, for some reason, inviting me in. 

“What did you do with the girl you were hooking up with, Rindou?” I asked, leaning back and getting grounded in the surroundings, starting the conversation somehow.

“She’s not dead, that’s for sure.” He said, making everyone laugh, then added, “All good things come to an end, unfortunately, I gave her my number, she had to go home.” He moved his phone towards me and mumbled something about needing us all to take a quick pic. Once we did, he sighed dramatically, his head hitting the back of the seat with a breathy laugh. Looking at his phone, Sanzu let out a dry laugh and pushed the device in my hands, showing me a text that read ‘Where are you, I’m picking her up.’ He then proceeded to type while talking, “Looks like you’re past curfew, little girl.”

“It’s whatever.” I sounded exactly as he had put it, like a child. Throwing a tantrum and pissed off at Hanma. Before any of them could speak, I was outraged and let my head hit the back of the seat and fit into the crook of Sanzu’s arm too; looking at the dangling light on the ceiling, I ran my hands through my hair and let out a long sigh, “I don’t want to see him after he tried to make me jealous like that—with a hooker?!”

Ran was the first to speak, “Ain’t that your shit, though? Both messed up with weird ways of flirting.”

I scoffed, “I just don’t get it, is he insecure or something cause I keep receiving weird advances and–”

Rindou tilted his head to the side to try to give me a weirded out look, “Are you saying ‘God, everybody wants me, it’s so hard’?”

My face heated up for a moment. Ran had wanted me. Rindou kept being flirtatious, for a while I thought even Koko could be into me too—was I being… “Yeah, you’re delusional.” Ran stated.

“Fact of the matter is, no one wants you. No one wants him either. I’m sure none of us have any idea why you are both so possessive over each other.” Sanzu explained, both brothers nodding along. Rindou was close to adding something that his brother did not like, receiving a half-slap, half-hit in the stomach to silence him. Humming, I took in their words but was not sure I agreed fully, although if they all thought it, they couldn’t be wrong.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and was starting to get lulled to sleep by the loud music of the club, “Hookers flirt with him, women turn on the streets to look at him–”

Ran interrupted me, “Hookers liking him says a lot about you, if you ask me.”

“Remind me real quick what’s the name of your girl—you know, the one that works in–” Rindou started.

Ran hit him again, grabbing his shirt this time as he stood up and pulled him along, “Get her name out of your mouth Rin, this is nobody’s business.”

His brother grabbed his hand and got it off him, smirking as he shrugged, “I’m saying, it's a bit hypocritical to tell off Crazy here when you’re seeing a hooker yourself.”

“And the tattoos are a sure way to get people to look at him, he also looks too tall for this country. Man’s a freak. Don’t think you gotta worry about people looking for that reason.” Sanzu added, finally letting go of his phone. I managed to get a glimpse of Shiho’s face on the contact photo. It took me a few seconds to take in their words properly, that’s when I huffed, not as much in offense as it was in the feeling of being called out. “And you’re almost as tall as him Ran, I’m saying…”

“Yeah, well, stay safe, I won’t come for you.” Ran said, throwing me a side glance before sitting back down.

“You stay safe, I am not into you.” I said, holding back from making incest jokes or talking about his height or tendencies since the two latter were in line with Hanma’s, or close to.

Hands clasping together brought our attention as Rindou stood up and grinned, “Beautiful! Friendships are blooming, we love to see it, but the big bad wolf is coming.” His eyes flicked with little discretion to his left as if to show us what he was talking about, we all leaned over and glanced, noticing Hanma making his way through the crowd, almost disinterestedly.

Almost was the key word since he seemed so determined, a determination fueled by anger or frustration, I was familiar with it. The cool he was portraying was just a mask. My heartbeat sped up as I made sure to stay seated and ignore his arrival, looking back at Rindou, “If I’m not at the Gala tomorrow, it’s ‘cause I’m dead, alright?”

“Dead by choking? Choking too hard on his–” He stopped dead in his tracks when Hanma hovered right behind him and made him stand aside. The younger Haitani did not stick around and rolled his eyes, bidding us farewell as he walked away from us. Ran was quick to try to follow, but Hanma stopped him, a hand on his chest as he moved in front of him, “You ever send shit like this to me again, you’re a dead Haitani.”

Ran smirked, “What, you didn’t like it? Thought this was your shit, dead body pics exchange and all. You really didn’t like it? Which part—was it that they were men?” He pulled out his phone and looked through the pictures that I couldn’t see, zooming on some before showing Hanma again, “Or that there is a huge smile on her face? Oh no, I get it!” He called my name, catching my attention then asked, “How fun was it to kill that man? With me?”

My eyes widened, locking on Hanma’s apologetically. I felt ashamed. As if I had cheated on him.

He had told him? When? The dots were connecting slowly—he had shared pictures of the entire thing with Hanma, it would explain his anger that should not have been so big for the little amount of texts I had sent him. Instinctively, I moved to Hanma’s side and tried to pry him away from Ran. I did not say anything because whatever I had to say would not help the situation. I had felt good killing the man because it was a useful thing to do, I had taken care of a loose end. I had quite some freedom doing so, but I couldn’t tell them I painfully wanted to kill the second man too, that Ran snapped his neck instead of letting me do it and I was almost… pissed that he took that from me.

“It was just a job, Shuji.” I whispered to him, hoping he would believe me. “It so happened he was there too.” I added.

Hanma smiled at Ran, “Have you checked on your girl recently?”

Ran’s face dropped.

“You know, while you were out with mine. I had some free time while waiting for her to return—which, mind you, she failed to do.” The latter part was for me. But I could only focus on the fact that he had gone to see Ran’s girl instead of directly coming to me. What had he done to her? For me? A message was sent to Ran, clearly, but there was one for me too in there. Ran’s was that he needed to stay in his lane, but it made no sense—nothing bad had happened, no flirting, nothing weird, it had been a job. A surprise one, one that was nowhere near planned, but that was needed nonetheless.

And if the issue was that I had enjoyed killing someone without him… I smiled to myself, had this been his way of spending time with me until now? His way of flirting—had he misinterpreted Ran’s motives as similar to his? My hand slid into Hanma’s, holding it tightly, I felt it being returned and became giddy.

With half a laugh of anger, half in disbelief, Ran grabbed Hanma’s collar and brought his face close, “You’re bluffing.”

Hanma then whispered what I assumed was her address then drawled, “So now, the question is not: is he bluffing? But… what has he done?” He then patted Ran’s shocked face condescendingly and sighed contently, “Which you’ll find out once you go there, so go, go!”

With ire on his face, Ran walked past Hanma only to be stopped dead in his tracks by him, “Oh, and remember!” Hanma said sweetly, “Don’t fuck with me again—not with her.”

Ran shrugged off the other’s hand in disbelief, eyeing the man with hatred, “You’re insane, I really can’t ever deal with your shit.” Then sped off.

With both the Haitanis gone, all that remained was Sanzu alongside Hanma and I.

Both men stared at each other in silence, an unspoken battle seemed to be happening or an argument of some sort, but there was no explanation at all. Only clenched jaws and tempers. I was unsure if they were not speaking due to the loud music or for other reasons, but it did not last—Hanma slightly leaned in, a semblance of a nod or a bow; I thought he would bid him farewell, but instead he locked eyes with Sanzu once more, “Next time you give her crack, you’re a dead man, pink eye.”

“Your insults are as low as she’ll be by the end of this freak show of a relationship you both have. Get out of my club, Stockholm piece of shit–”

“Big of you when your girl’s part of the competition of how low it’s gonna really get–” Before Hanma could even attempt to finish his taunt that was lost on me, Sanzu got up and had a knife against Hanma’s throat. I did not hold back the gasp that escaped my lips, nor the way my arms pulled the taller man out of the blade’s way while mumbling, “Enough, enough, we’re leaving.”

“What? No ‘this isn’t you, stop this Shuji!’” He mocked in a higher pitch voice, a slight smirk on his lips.

Meeting his eyes without any fear, I stated, “This is you, and this is him. I am aware, but I’d rather avoid bloodshed tonight. After all, we all gotta look stunning tomorrow, right?” I said in a lighter tone, looking over to placate Sanzu who was putting away the switchblade with a grumble as his eyes scanned the room. He then looked back at me, “Yeah, that reminds me, Shiho told me to tell you she’s huh—she’s going as…” He pulled up his phone and read out loud, “Slutty chic femme fatale trophy wife?” Turning the words into a question rather than a statement.

Nodding with a smile I said, “Did she say color coded?”

“Yeah, pink coded she said.”

“Noted! Tell her I’ll surprise her tomorrow night, see you both then!” I smiled while pushing Hanma away from him. This control I had over him only lasted until we were out of sight, that’s when he gripped my wrist tightly and led me through the crowd outside to his car. The feeling of the summer air and the quiet of the night felt so soothing when compared to the warmth of the club, but the calm could only last so long.

I was pressed with my back against the side of the car, a slender hand gripping my jaw tight to raise my head and meet his dead eyes, “Simple instructions, so fucking simple and you can’t even follow them?”

“Basic respect and you can’t even provide it?” I spat back, feeling the blood pumping through my veins in excitement. He seemed taken aback, so I continued, “Hookers here, hookers there, fair enough, you do that. Then I’m allowed to fuck around too, right? Or is only one of us allowed to play with the other’s insecurities?”

He did not respond. Instead he opened the door of the passenger seat and told me to get in, which I did only because I wanted to go home. 

The ride was painfully silent. No teasing, no jokes, not one glance stolen towards my person. I had nothing to be blamed for, if by acting like him I would have him mad at me, then he should best understand how I was feeling.

“Is this a love quarrel? Or are you just mad that I returned the favor? Only the favor was not to your taste, so now it’s my problem?” I was petty, I realized that. This was not proper communication, but I wanted him to speak to me, whatever it was. I could not stand the silence. Not from him. Not when he always had good comebacks, no matter the situation.

“I just thought we were past you acting like a douche and spending time with hookers—I get it, you need to get info, but I also know they’re putting their hands on you and that’s something only I’m allowed to do, you know?” I explained rapidly, trying to meet his gaze. His hands did not move from the steering wheel, his eyes never left the road, it’s as if he wasn’t hearing me.

“It was a coincidence that I had to kill these people with Ran, you know that. You don’t get to be mad at me for that. The job’s the job, Shuji. Do you not wish for me to be a part of Bonten?” A huff was all I received. No smile, no glances, a huff.

“Sulk all you want, you’re not allowed to be insecure. I get that you can’t choose how you feel because the brain is all sorts of things and logical isn’t part of it—but like—have you seen me?!” Far from me the idea of feeling ugly, this was not the point. This was deeper, “No one wants this, me, not when it has your fingerprints all over it. It’s used and broken, it’s shaped just for you, Shuji. No one is even glancing my way, alright?” He did not answer once more. Of course. He was having his tantrum on the side, and while maybe my communication was dreadful at the moment, I thought I was still making sense.

He remained silent even as he parked in front of the house.

Opening my door, he let me get out of the car and handed me the keys. I raised a brow in confusion at the chivalrous act of opening the car door for me and at the lack of comprehension of why he was handing me the keys.

Hesitantly, I unlocked the door and waited for him to follow me, but he remained at the entrance, his eyes defiant and gaze distant. 

“What are you waiting for, Shuji? I don’t understand what you’re doing.” I stated, getting more pissed off by the second with his little act as I took the keys from the keyhole.

“You tell me. You’re the one acting out, testing me. If you wanna be in control, take it. Cause you’re tryna understand shit that’s not there, psychoanalyzing me like a shrink.” He pointed towards the car with his thumb over his shoulder, “There is no insecurity. I just know better than you do, doll.” He took a step closer to now stand right in front of me, our chests touching, “But you’re so smart, you know stuff, right? You don’t need to be told shit, independent and all. So, order me around. See how it feels. Since you’re such a strong woman–”

I grabbed his necktie and pulled him down to my height, “Is this because of the drugs or cause I didn’t text every hour? Because I’m not unconscious, so that’s something I respected.” I explained, pulling him inside with me before shutting the door and locking it behind us, “Tell me you’re not mad I hung out with them and that you’re not jealous. Maybe I’ll trust you’re not insecure then.” Slowly I started undoing his vest, watching as his eyes darted to my lips then my hands, not stopping them as he smirked down at me.

“And, yeah, I’m a strong woman. I am. They didn’t do shit to me. It was even fun.” I leaned into his ear and breathed out, sliding my hand under his vest to take it off, leaving him with his shirt and tie, “I humiliated them at poker, you would have been proud of the looks I put on their faces.” Perhaps I pushed him too much since his hands slipped to my hips, holding me to the spot as he pulled me against him and pressed the side of his face to mine, whispering back, “Talking about other men to me is not a way to get me hard, try another technique, it’s embarrassing. Maybe you should let me take the lead.” He mocked.

The humiliation I felt sent electricity coursing through my body as its temperature rose a few degrees, it felt good. Something caught in my throat, he had thrown me off guard but I was determined now. I didn’t mean to take control in the first place, he knew that, but he had given me the reins for some reason. And my pride couldn’t take not doing it justice, not showing I could do just that. I pulled him with me then switched places and pushed him to the couch before taking off his tie and gesturing for him to hand me his wrists.

“In your dreams, doll. I don’t get tied–”

Interrupting him, I went to get his wrists, using the tie to bring them to me but as I did that, he gripped the fabric back and pulled me closer to him, his nose brushing against mine, “I said I don’t get tied. Do that again and you’re–”

So I did just that.

Smirking at him, I tried to wrap it around his hands, making him scoff as he grabbed my wrists and dragged himself off the couch before forcing me on my back. He was half straddling me, balancing himself with one knee on the couch and a foot on the floor, “So that’s what this is.” He said in realization, grinning like a maniac, “Glad she’s dead, she says.” He mocked my words of earlier, a tone much higher than he would usually have if speaking normally, “I’ll fuck her out of you, she says.” He continued.

“Yet here she is, like a bunny caught by a wolf, shivering in anticipation, begging to be fucked.”

“How am I begging? Maybe I poked the bear one too many times, but I’m not a bunny. I am in no danger actually, so I’m not really a prey at all.” I stated, reaching for the buttons of his shirt to finish undressing him as he stared me dead in the eyes. This was threading fine lines, the man was keen on metaphors and I was ignoring them.

Gently, his hand wrapped around my throat, stilling me in my actions as his thumb pressed against the center of my neck dangerously, his lips grazing my cheek, “Of course. Not begging.” His nose brushed against my skin as his lips reached my ear, “Crying out for attention, hating how a hooker had my hands for one night. Hating how it threw you back to the beginning of all of this and for just a moment, you were back to being nothing to me.”

His words struck a chord.

“Cause your head’s a funny place. But who else would give me what I want?” Tilting my head back gently, his hand squeezed my throat perfectly, the blood starting to rush to my head as I looked him in the eyes, “Who else would be gripping my hand like this, wordlessly begging for me to choke her harder? Hm?” He asked sweetly, so sweet that I knew he was mocking me. He squeezed hard enough to have me gasping, digging my nails in his skin as I tried to tap his forearm, at which he immediately stopped.

“That’s exactly what you want, good, hard sex—but you were a complete bitch tonight.” His harsh words did not match with how delicately he took off my shirt, how he exposed my body to his observing eyes. Standing up, he got rid of all that covered my lower half then helped my legs over his shoulders, raising me from the couch so he could see my most embarrassing angle from up close. It seemed more intimate than ever, I tried to push his face away and said, “What are you doing?!”

He shoved my hand to the side and ran his tongue between my legs, “What you don’t want. Cause sadly, doll, you can’t always get what you want.” He pouted, sticking his tongue out wide theatrically before resuming what he was doing with passion. The way he was eating me out felt so good and familiar and yet strange. He would so rarely do this, how could my body crave it and my mind abhor it? The gentleness of his touch, how tender his hold was on my thighs, how soft his gaze was meeting my annoyed one—it was all unfamiliar and unsettling. 

“Bite me.” I gritted through my teeth, trying to guide his head to my inner thigh and his intentions towards the right mood. He laughed between my legs and slowly looked up with a pleading look, “Did I hear you right? Are you telling me what to do? I thought we both understood I knew better–”

Gripping a fistful of his hair, I tilted his head to the side. Before I could say anything, he unhooked my hand and scoffed dryly before getting up and sighing, “You’re a fucking pain tonight—my doll wants attention, but nothing is good enough, it seems.” I heard him opening a drawer, but did not move from my spot on the couch. I only listened. “Which makes you wonder, should she have the choice of what she’s getting tonight?” He grabbed something, then slowly stepped back towards me, “The answer’s no.”

A zipping sound. Then I felt him grab my hands as he dragged me off the couch and to my knees, bringing my wrists behind my back and tying them with cable ties. “As I was fucking saying…” He tilted my head back with his index finger, looking at my exposed body then brushing my hair back, “It’s going to be so fucking soft tonight, you’re going to be begging for me to forgive your little act out there. You know I have to teach you manners, right?”

I hated that he wanted to make this gentle, it was insane, it was boring. I couldn’t help but be curious of what it would be like—normal sex—and how long he would hold on before growing impatient with it all. So I smirked, “The floor isn’t very comfortable, your little ‘acting normal’ gig is starting off on the wrong foot.” With that he laughed and helped me to my feet before guiding me upstairs and pushing me to the bed, forcing me on my back by grabbing my ankles tight. It was much more thrilling like that, the roughness, the force—so I laughed giddily.

He was taken by surprise and rolled his eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips before he took off his shirt, “Glad this makes you laugh, ‘least one of us gotta.” He stated as he knelt at the end of the bed and grabbed my foot, kissing my ankle while holding the other down when I tried to kick him away. His touches were sweet, loving, he had closed his eyes in the moment as he left a trail of kisses up my leg, making me gasp and hold back a giggle at the strange gesture. His hand was stroking my skin and was following the path his lips did, higher and higher, so slowly that I tried to reach for his face only to be reminded my hands were tied behind my back. “No hurry, really. Take your time.” I said dryly, letting my head lull back when he gently, playfully, dug his teeth in my skin to tease.

“I’m planning on it.” He said, looking up at me, “I could lose you at any point now–” he paused and brought my knees around his face as he kissed one of them, his cold hands making the hairs stand all over my body at the temperature clash, “You’re making the choice of going out there, with assholes that can’t comprehend this—you.” His kisses reached the lower part of my stomach, he held my legs and hooked them around his waist as he trailed his tongue up and reached my breast, “They wouldn’t think twice if the choice was their life or yours.”

The words caught in my throat, I had no witty comeback, just confusion. Why did he care about them? About what could happen to me, when he had been the one to bring me to this lifestyle. It was only now that I was growing my own wings that he was growing hesitant, wary. “They’re not your friends, they don’t give a shit, you have to understand that.” His hands slid up from my knees to under my back as he dragged me against him, closer, before letting his hands roam even higher. It was almost as if he was hugging me, his lips warm against my chest, his breath the sole contrast to the boiling anger that was building in my body.

Why was he trying to tear me down?

Did he not wish for me to be a part of this? After all we went through to have me recognized as a semblance of something?

Nothing seemed right for him, why was he acting like this?

“Because you’re mine. I brought you into this, and now, no matter what, they won’t see you as anything. Do the same to them.” He breathed against my skin, it felt childish. Like he was having a tantrum, and part of me liked it; his possessiveness, his jealousy of others, my heart almost reached for his for how protective he was. But the stronger part of me felt… grossed out.

Calling out his name, I shook my head, “It’s always like this, ‘no, doll, don’t go with them. Doll, don’t make friends. Doll, don’t do this.’” I mimicked. I couldn’t push him away, so instead I rolled my eyes before closing them, “Do you hear yourself? You brought me in this fucking mess, Shuji. Now that you don’t have full control over what happens, you’re trying to put me in a cage?” His head, which was almost resting between my breasts, lifted up to meet my face above me. He looked right through me and sorrow seemed to adorn his gaze. It didn’t make sense.

“Don’t act like you care, Shuji. That’s not what this is, not what we are.”

The confusion did not lessen when his lips met mine softly, his fingers gently trailing down my stomach. Before I realized it, I felt them enter me and moaned in surprise, he smiled against my lips. “Don’t I?” Care. He pecked my lips again, “Isn’t it?” What this is. Then the kiss deepened, I don’t know why I kissed him back, this was wrong. This—this was not how we showed our love, this was unfair. My heart was beating fast, begging for more of this tenderness but my brain could feel how strange this all was.

“You don’t realize the shit I did for you,” He sighed between our kisses before freeing his cock, out of breath, as his free hand held my cheek while the other guided himself inside me, “I brought you in this ‘cause–” We both grunted at the new sensation, how good he felt but how unwelcomed it all was, it did not feel like him. It did not feel like me. “We made each other—and time won’t do us apart, I can promise you that.” It did not feel like a justification of his actions, but I couldn’t think of anything to say to him. It all felt so intimate and vulnerable, I had never seen him like this, and yet it did not feel like he was talking to me.

Our breaths were merging into one as his lips kept grazing mine at each trust, each of the moans escaping was another show of how our bodies were made for one another, as he put it, but my mind… my mind was somewhere else. 

Closing my eyes to try to enjoy this stranger fucking me, my mouth started forming words, “Don’t you think it’s too late for that?” Why had I said that? Was it because in my mind I was already detached from him? Or was it because the damage he had done to me was not something that could be fixed?

His thrusts quickened, both his hands holding my head still as his forehead rested against mine, “Then I’ll try again—I don’t fucking care how many times—I have to try.” He stuttered between breaths, I felt myself smiling while blinking tears away. I didn’t know why I was crying, nor why I was smiling but his words were somehow comforting.

“Always so determined, Shuji.” I breathed out, hooking my legs behind his as I felt myself getting closer and closer. He chuckled, “You know me better than anyone, babe.” His thrusts stopped, his cock still inside me as he shivered a breath of relief before reaching a hand between us, gently rubbing circles to help me finish. An action he had never done before. I was sure my wrists were irritated from how much I was struggling against the zip ties behind my back, probably digging into my skin. My back arched against him, this was too unfamiliar. I muttered some pleas, telling him I was close like a mantra; I wasn’t even sure he knew what I was saying, but he laughed softly, “There’s my girl, come on, you know you want to give into it—shit, I can feel your grip on my dick, come on, give it to me–” He let out a shaky breath as his thumb played skillfully with my clit. Lazily, he resumed thrusting inside me.

I shook my head, “No, no, don’t—I don’t want to—this isn’t good.” I whined, trying to hold back from cumming. My breathing was uneven and the moans escaping my lips were exactly what he wanted to hear, from the growing smile I could catch on his face while my vision was fading to white. “Shu, I don’t–” the pleading only drove him to make me reach my climax, which I did with a loud whine of relief. He pulled out and used his shirt to wipe me clean before grabbing a blade from a drawer and helping me to the side, cutting the zip tie to free my wrists.

Immediately, I sat up and gave him a strange look, “What’s next, are you going to bring me water now? What the fuck was that?”

“You complain so much, and for what? You didn’t enjoy it, I told you it was a punishment, didn’t I?” Suddenly, all the intimacy from earlier was gone. He was not meeting my eyes, instead he was looking around the wardrobe for fresh clothes, grabbing some for me too. “I picked out your dress for tomorrow, this is a big event so you can’t slut out like your girl wants you to.” He explained dryly, not liking Shiho’s description of her outfit. He was not answering my question of earlier, he was not clearing up my confusion of who was this man that just fucked me because it was not the Hanma Shuji I knew.

“Dressing up your doll, are you?” I whispered, standing up on wobbly legs, only for him to hold me by the bicep as he looked down at me with mischief, a particular look I had not seen yet on him. One that was not something I should have been wary of, in theory, which is exactly why I feared it, “Something like that. Can’t let my girl look debauched—that’s just for me.” He scoffed.

I chuckled, slowly recognizing him again, but still a little shaken.

“Well, can I at least see the dress?” I asked, trying to look inside the wardrobe. He moved in front of me as he tossed our clothes on the bed and held me with one hand on my hip, the other tilting my chin up, “Yeah, of course. Tomorrow. I told the girl your measurements,” He looked down at my chest and pressed a finger on my tattoo, “said we needed to see this, and it had to be elegant.” His nose brushed against mine, his lips were complete ghosts on my mouth, “The rest is up to her, she made the dress you ruined that night at the cemetery—do you recall, little Alice?”

Feeling nostalgia from that time, I genuinely smiled and pecked his lips, remembering the thrill of that night, “That was kind of cringe, you were more of a Cheshire Cat than a Mad Hatter—still are.” I said playfully.

He kissed me in annoyance, “You said that last time, but we don’t fuck cats here, babe.” He joked, making me laugh as I pushed him playfully, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Do I?” He asked with a smirk, walking back and letting go of me as he grabbed our clothes and was ready to shower, “Come, I’m not staying awake any longer. Tomorrow’s gonna be… eventful.” He trailed off, suspiciously so. Following him, I took a look at his back tattoo and placed my hand on it, slowly trailing it all over, “Shibata’s going to be everywhere, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, odds are they’re gonna try to ambush us or something.” He explained offhandedly.

I sighed, “Can we kill them if they come for us? What’s the agreement between Bonten and Shibata?” I knew I shouldn’t have asked, because he didn’t want me like that. He hated how analytical I was now, facing all of these problems. He hated that I was now just like him, so I quickly added, “Just so I don’t mess up! I feel like they might come for me—you know, because you’re important to Bonten.” I smiled softly, my hands sliding around to hold him from behind as they rested on his stomach.

He unhooked them and turned around, looking at me unbothered, “You stick to me. If they gotta die, I’ll do it. It’s that simple.”

I held back from telling him it was stupid, that I should be able to hold my own ground and roam around without him, but debating that was useless. I would just leave his side at some point, he might not realize it, or he might; if he did, he would come looking for me all angry and—I felt myself smiling stupidly, making him raise a brow, “What’s funny?”

“You’re right, I should stay by your side.” Should, not will do.

I added, “It’s safer.” But what does safe even mean with all the criminals surrounding us?

I smiled and nipped at his jaw, “Like Bonnie and Clyde, criminal couple–”

He pushed my face and rolled his eyes, “Ain’t that worse than Alice and the Mad Hatter? Come on, get in.”

I laughed at that but my mind was not really in the moment. While we showered, I was just thinking of the odds that I would come across a Shibata.

And how bad it would be if they were triggered enough by some things, as to come for me.

And how easy it would be to kill them, with the right incentives.

I simply had to find the right occasion, because neither Mikey nor Hanma needed to know I wanted to kill. All they needed was a justification.

I could make something up.

As we got in bed, I whispered in the dark to Hanma, “Tomorrow’s going to be fun, I’m sure of it.”

[To be continued]

[citylightsanddarkskies]

my throat is an excuse of a warrior- it gives up, but my rage is a war cry i cry out till i actually cry. we were told to keep trying because that's what will keep us sane, but the line between the truth and the lies blurs each time we touch, and my sanity isn't really a question anymore but if trying keeps me sane, giving up on you, isn't really a question anymore.

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 5

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 14 818

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Blood and Injury // Violence // Torture

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My throat is constricted, the air is tight in my chest, I feel like I’m drowning. I don’t know where I am.

I look around, it’s dark. There is music in another room. It’s eerie. I don’t know where I am.

Why is it empty? The room I find myself in is unfamiliar, it’s lavish, with intricate decorations on the walls and chandeliers. One is hanging on by a thread above my head, I’m underneath it, staring up at it. What if it falls on me? What if I die? My vision blurs as I get lost in the glimmer of the crystals. I don’t know where I am. 

There’s a loud thud somewhere. It’s not in this room. It echoes loudly—I look towards the source of the sound in panic, I need to find it. My heart is beating so fast and I’m sobbing. I can still hear the music in the room and voices talking, but it’s empty. I start walking, I go through a doorway and don’t recognize anything. I don’t know where I am!

A deafening scream. It’s right next to my ear—am I screaming? I look around and see myself in the large mirror. It’s not me. It’s not me. It’s not me!

My hands fly to my face, it follows my reflection. I smile, I frown—my expressions are not reflected. It remains the same. It’s her. Shiho’s face is staring right back at me. Her mouth is wide open, so are her eyes. Her skin lost its glow, it’s gloomy, it’s nothing like how I see her. She’s not looking at me—her mouth moves, “I don’t know where I am.” then her eyes are set on mine.

The mirror is gone, I’m in a wide corridor, it’s endless. I look ahead, there is something on the red carpeted floor. I’m right next to it and I crouch.

Someone is here with me, they’re holding her hand. She passed out on the floor. She’s dead.

“You fucking killed her.”

His eyes are red, he’s crying, he’s angry and I’m hyperventilating. I’m telling him something but I can’t hear. (It’s unfair, it’s not my fault, you—Shibata laced everything! I ran as fast as I could—You got her addicted!)

“He had to go back and it’s because of you.” He tells me. (No, no, no don’t say that, I didn’t do anything, I didn’t–)

It’s raining. Everyone is wearing black, there are so few people. It’s cold, morose and off-putting, it shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t have ended up like this. Not this soon.

Rai is by Shiho’s casket, her hand set on the lacquered wood, she looks up at me, “When will it end? This is all your fault.”

I’m screaming at her, everyone is looking at me. They’re all around me, closer and closer, talking together. The blame, the guilt, my heart, everything is heavy. I’m falling to my knees–

I woke up to silence. There were no screams, no music, no rapid footsteps, no cries. No one.

It was strange, but I was getting used to it.

It was the third time I had this nightmare this past week, except this time it was much more vivid. Waking up in a cold sweat was not something I was used to, nor something I wanted to get used to, and yet, I knew the drill by now. Getting out of bed, I put on some music to try to drown the thoughts that were at the forefront of my mind, perhaps I was even trying to flush the guilt away. Deep down, I was starting to blame myself—no, it had started long ago, but it had built up into a big enough feeling that I could not ignore it anymore.

Pushing the thoughts away was harder to do as days went on, there was this pressure in my mind that told me to either turn off the fire, let the water turn cold and fold, or to open the lid and let it all pour out. It was exhausting.

There was some comfort in the fact that for over a week now, nothing had happened. The hunt of Shibatas was still on, the death toll had anything but decreased. With the numerous overdose cases and bodies found on the streets of the city, the two gangs clashing and the knowledge of a mole among our ranks having slipped out—the infighting, how could it stop? The theory was not that Hanma or any of the informed executives had acted as whistleblowers, no, they were trustworthy enough. Mikey had been careful to only let very few people know—the current theory was that the mole had simply let it slip out. Hanma had gotten too close to discovering who the bastard was and, out of cowardice, they must have used it as a way to make everyone doubt everyone in Bonten. This lack of trust had many members turn against each other—but for some reason, not in every division.

The special divisions seemed intact, they seemed to know who to trust and perhaps that confidence came from their leaders. The defensive unit, Kakucho’s, was more than alright, nothing had happened among the ranks. The Haitanis’ attack unit was also intact which surprised me for some reason.

Hanma’s commando unit… the name seemed prestigious, it’s true, but their work was anything but. It was them who did the dirty work, it was on them that everything relied. If they left anything behind, it could be traced back to whoever had done the crime—they were the backbone of Bonten. His unit was fine. Hanma had to meet with them for one of the rare times to straighten things up and make them understand that whatever doubt they were having had to be brought to him so he could tear it down.

But the remaining divisions? Whatever the mole had said only sowed the seed of doubt in those groups, the words they had used were almost… incriminating. It was not my duty nor my mission to seek them out—Hanma was convinced he knew who it was—but my guess, while vague, was that they belonged to one of those lower divisions. Power could be a reason for being a sellout, right? Couldn’t take simply being the leader of a division, maybe they wanted to be an executive but it hadn’t happened yet and so they sought out the best way to get that promotion—by betraying one’s own organization.

It was nothing productive. It was a shortcut but to what end? Now Shibata would know the fucker was greedy enough to betray the biggest criminal organization for power—they would know bribery was a foolish sin.

The more I thought of it, the more I believed the traitor to be insane, which ultimately was ironic coming from the woman who saw her dead friend. Not once did I consider leaving Bonten, I was more than aware I would die here—alone or not, there was no escaping it and I knew it. Sooner or later something bad would happen, maybe that’s why I wanted to make the best out of it and, if I had the choice, by Hanma’s side. So to see someone choose to leave, only to jump straight in another wolves’ den that would not guarantee the same level of prestige, income and protection? That seemed irrational, unthought through, and a hectic move.

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t add up. I didn’t know how to explain it, but something was off.

It was no use to think about it further than needed. It was not my responsibility, but I still texted my thoughts to Hanma, knowing full well that with how busy he was I wouldn’t get an answer anytime soon. Had he not been occupied, he would have simply repeated himself by telling me it was not my place to think. But there was no helping it. I wanted to be of use, and part of me felt hurt, even after spending so much time with him, at how he kept me so dumb. I knew it was for my sake, but I hated this feeling.

To think that he would still treat me as such after the conversation we had a few weeks earlier—after I’d told him that I needed to prove myself, that they all looked at me snidely—was simply exhausting. To some extent, he was also treating me differently than ever before, as if I would break, but he was being foolish.

As if I would break? I had to laugh.

I had long since shattered, had I not?

That’s how I saw myself—in pieces, held together by so few things and yet, something deep inside me was still fighting to come back.

I needed to smother her to kill that spark, because only I knew what kept her alive, how she worked, how to make her disappear. And if Hanma still wanted her around… I would  give it to him. It shouldn’t be too hard. I love him enough to give him what he wanted and to become who I needed in order to feel free.

I wanted to be myself with him, for him, and yet he held me down. Why was he trying to clip my wings after molding me into one of his creations? To be shunned and thrown aside after giving him all my unconditional love—was the apple starting to rot? I needed to cut the decay away if I wanted to enjoy my well-earned fruit. That’s why she needed to go. She was making this harder than necessary.

My venture down the rabbit hole was quick to get interrupted. I supposed I was thankful for the sound that came from my phone. Finishing getting dressed, I grabbed it from the bed and looked at it confused; an address and a time was all that was in a text.

No clue of the sender, and without it saved in my contacts, I had no idea who it was.

Asking Hanma would lead me nowhere; instead, I pressed someone else’s number and waited a few rings until he picked up.

“What do you need?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Koko, I sent you a phone number, can you tell me who it is?”

He huffed a chuckle, then I heard him shuffle with the phone for a moment before bringing it back to his ear, “What am I? Your secretary?”

“Please, do you know who it is—yes or no.”

“Yeah, it’s Mikey. Why?” He asked.

I simply told him I received a text with very little information in it, which made him go, “Are you telling me you never got any texts from him in all this time you’ve been with us?” He laughed almost mockingly—or was it disbelief hidden behind some condescendence? It was as if the surprise came from only now getting personally in touch with Mikey, after all, why hadn’t it happened sooner?

Because I was not enough until now.

Ah, so what changed, in your opinion?

I guess I’ll find out once I get there.

I gave Koko a scoff, “Ask him that, not me. I usually get errands through you or Sanzu—or Hanma. So…” I trailed off.

“Yeah, well, don’t be late. It’s going to be something fun then.” Being ominous was not helping the slowly rising anxiety that I felt, but giving in to whatever panic was building up was not useful in the long run. With a tight smile, I replied, “I guess you’re not going to tell me shit about what’s going on.”

“Hey, see! You’re getting smart, woman, gotta have the brains if you don’t have any fucking brawns, right?” He teased. Our friendship felt more natural. It had gotten a dent, for the little our friendship had been developing at the time, when I killed Rai—but now it was enjoyable. I could see a certain side of him that was less caretaking and more blunt, more… himself, perhaps. I had this naive image of him as a mere business man for Bonten, but it had been a wrong idea because he was here for a reason, and that meant he got the job done, no matter what. It also meant that, like all of them, he had been bathed in this violence since very young, the only thing differing him from the others was that he seemed more socially apt. 

“And you’re no use for me,” I started jokingly, “Who knows, maybe I’ll tell you what happened… probably not though, since you’re so secretive and shit.”

“Bet, it’s the same for me. I’ll know everything in less than 2 hours after your little one on one. Now, some of us have shit to do, don’t piss yourself.”

I didn’t have time to wish him farewell when he hung up and I was left with just enough time to get ready and get in contact with one of the lower ranks to drop me at the spot. Not knowing who I could trust, I decided to text Shiho if their driver could come and get me instead—surely Shiho and Sanzu could be trusted, right? Hanma hadn’t given me any proper instructions, but those two had no reason to betray Bonten.

Shiho: oh sure tihng babe sendnig him rn

Shiho: where off to

Shiho: ?

I thanked her and explained the situation without giving too much detail. She had taken the habit of talking about Mikey as “King mentally ill” since her surprisingly intuitive thoughts on the man was that out of all of them, he was the worst. She would argue that since he stayed quiet most of the time, nothing could be read on his face, that he was probably a sociopath or something along those lines. To her, the others gave off enough warning flags by being who they were, people could see it from the violence they’d show, how they would react and clearly from the businesses they led. Hanma was at the top of her list of people who would probably not be too much of a threat, considering how obviously unwell he was.

But Mikey? 

Mikey was always so sweet when he talked to people other than his executives, he seemed to be fit enough to go about in society, which was what scared her, she would tell me. I don’t know why she feared him so much, he had been nothing but caring towards me, and more than caring towards herself too, but I kept her words in the back of my head. I was unsure it would be of much use since, while being emotionless, he was still kind.

A few minutes after my exchange with Shiho, I saw the car pull up in front of the house and put on my jacket before getting out. I had yet to get used to this being my new home but it still felt much safer than the apartment, more spacious too.

While I had met the driver once already, I was not fully convinced it had been him who had driven us on that night, so I faked texting someone and took a discreet picture of him before knocking on the window of the car.

Nodding at me, he pulled down the window and asked for my name, so I nodded, “Who sent you?” I asked. I needed him to tell me it was Shiho or Sanzu, any other answer would be off and I didn’t want to lead him in the correct direction. Sure, I sounded paranoid, but I had all the rights to be with what was going on.

“The Mad Dog, ma’am. Didn’t you request this?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did. Just making sure!” I told him with a polite smile. It was a smile that was nowhere near returned as he gave me a judgmental side glance as if I was insane. There was no need to justify myself, I was being careful. That’s all.

After that, the car ride was not as long as I thought it would be. In less than 20 minutes, accounting for the heavy traffic, we had arrived at the destination Mikey had decided we should meet. With a thank you to the driver, I got out of the car and noticed Sanzu by the window on the second floor. It was certain he had seen me too, although his eyes were anywhere but on me—he did not gesture for me to get inside.

All I needed was the courage to take the first step inside the building and was surprised by the lack of security around the hall. It was a rather simple building, so simple no one would think the head of a huge organization such as Bonten would be residing here, and yet here he was. It made one wonder what could two men do if people decided to barge in, what if there were ten, twenty of them? Granted, Mikey and Sanzu were anything but simple men, they were weapons—guiltless, feared, so efficient they were unmatched should one face them unarmed. But these weapons that both Mikey and Sanzu were, they would never be used. They were unreliable to everyone but themselves, that’s how people saw them. Ruthless criminals, a term that could not inspire anything but wariness, yet I trusted them both implicitly.

Stepping inside the elevator, I continued my pondering.

After all, I was still here after so long. There had to be someone to thank for that, it hadn’t happened just because of myself. Should I be grateful for the two of them for taking care of me from afar all these years? Should Mikey be thanked for not sending me on dangerous errands? Or Sanzu for keeping Shiho, my anchor, safe? If not for him, I would have probably lost her long ago, and myself in the process.

Or maybe I should thank Hanma for never leaving my side. His advice had been all the more useful for my survival, especially the one that suggested changing my mindset—something I was still slowly in the process of doing.

The door opened silently to a minimalist apartment, one could hardly believe it was inhabited from how impersonal it was. There were no trinkets, no cups or anything left on tables or counters, it was cold. I was almost certain it was for sale until Mikey walked out of a room fully dressed with a towel draped around his neck, his hair still slightly wet from the shower he’d probably just left.

He gave me a short smile, “You are here. Right on time.”

I gave him a small nod and half of a bow. I wasn’t sure if I should treat him as good as estranged or on a more friendly term, “Hello, yes, good morning.” Looking around, I made a confused sound, “Isn’t Sanzu here, I thought I saw him by the window?”

Gesturing for me to follow him, Mikey led us to the living room, “Mmh, he is in another room, he had to take a call.” he explained too ominously for my taste before once more gesturing with one hand at the sofa, inviting me to take a seat as he did so. I stayed standing as he started talking, “You have no idea what this is about.” It was not a question, it was a statement that made me close to snapping much more sarcastically than I had just now by telling him half-jokingly with a nervous chuckle, “It tends to happen when one doesn’t receive details on…” my voice started dying out. Being funny was not as good of an idea as I thought it would be, slowly my words simply felt numb on my tongue and just as fast, I sat next to Mikey.

Being so close to him felt off. He felt like royalty—I did not wish to make one wrong move, so I put a good but not too strange distance between us. Deep inside, it felt like touching him could hurt me physically, burn me. After all, the man was the living representation of all that was wrong in society, and wanting to fix it meant having a great understanding of it all, in depth.

One would never wish upon one’s worst enemy such a deep and broken knowledge of all that was bad in this world.

Ignorance was a bliss, they said, because knowledge was a curse.

So many wished to forget and to return to this blissful state of innocence before they knew.

To forget someone cheated. 

To forget your friend was raped at a party you both attended.

To forget the death of someone close.

All only to bask in the goodness of the memories they left behind.

Ignorance was a bliss one wished to feel once the pain ingrained itself deep in their very flesh and bones upon learning about all these atrocities. 

But I would have no such privilege of bliss. I had been cursed with horrendous knowledge and sights since that very first night of meeting them all. To seek comfort in cluelessness would be too foolish of me, I could only make use of all of the things I knew or I’d go insane.

“Are you alright?” I heard Mikey say at first, before adding softly, “You’re far away, almost nostalgic.” The sweet smile on his lips was wrong, he never directed this to me, so why now? “Time has flown by since your first mission as an informant, hasn’t it?” 

An uncharismatic snort escaped my nose before I even had the time to stop it, quickly I added nervously, “Had it been someone else, I’d have been called a mole. But that’s just semantics, isn’t it?” There was some irony in those terms and it all depended on which side I was on. Had I been Bonten’s enemy, nothing would have gone like this.

Mikey chuckled, “Then aren’t you glad to have chosen the right side?” He drawled. 

Once more, I laughed, this was unbelievable, “I’m unsure I had a choice per se. But if I had, it was surely made for me. It feels as if it was the only option, really…” I paused and looked at the table in front of us instead of Mikey. I knew I should have stopped talking, but there was something that kept me going. He had yet to stop me or berate me for messing up, which meant he did not mind the half-honesties I was giving him.

“It was either I joined you, changing in the process or I’d just…” Another pause, I smiled sadly, “I think without the support I had—have… I…” Finally, I looked back at Mikey and mimicked pressing a gun under my chin and pressing a trigger, my tongue stuck out as I faked blowing my brains out. I laughed lightly, “But that’s a big hypothetical.” A pregnant pause.

“Do you think I’d have the guts to do that?”  I asked Mikey. I suppose I was also pondering out loud to myself more than asking him. I didn’t believe I could ever do that. Mikey shook his head, “It requires more guts to keep on living, you know?” to which I shrugged one swift movement.

“And a lot more energy, it’s exhausting.”

He was impassive as he asked me what I meant by that. I was hesitant if I should speak my true mind or if I should stop this now. The conversation was leading to something deeper than I wanted him to know about, he would find me insane. He would probably react like Hanma did and tell me to tone it down. 

So why did I answer?

“Keeping up appearances, I guess? It kind of feels like I’m at war with myself–” I stopped. This sounded awful, this shouldn’t be said out loud. What was I portraying myself as? He would think I’m insane, that I’m weak, that I should get kicked out–

This is ridiculous.

You’re right, I’ll stop this right now.

“But I’m good!” I laughed, “I’m actually–”

Mikey cut me off with a straight face, a stern one, “Is dishonesty a trait you’ve honed over your stay in the organization or is it innate?” There was nothing in his eyes that could be a tell of any ounce of humor in his words, all it led me to believe was that I had fucked up hard. Did he want me to be honest? I was too caught off guard to manage anything sensible.

“What you are is unbalanced. And if you want to stabilize that frail state of mind, we need to find the irregularity—so tell me.” He tilted his head to the side and forced a kind smile on his face that was such a contrast to the void in his eyes, “How do you really feel?”

With wide eyes, my mind was still stuck on his description of my state of mind: unbalanced. He was not wrong, but finding the perfect word to describe it all was startling to say the least. Sure, I had a few theories on how to fix this frailness of my mind so why would I tell him more about myself? The pull that I felt towards him was all that was needed to make me speak up, ignoring any inner battle.

“I know what I’m turning into. I’m welcoming the change, but there’s this part of me that’s just—just stuck in the past. It’s… accepting the change of who I am as a person means letting go of…” Should I really say it? I was already so far in, anyway. My grave was dug deep enough that I couldn’t make the situation any more bad, truly. “I would mean–”

“Go ahead.” He cooed me.

What? Don’t want to admit it’s all because of a man?

My eyes flew straight ahead, I did not realize Mikey’s had done the same—to see what I was looking at or to simply look away, I did not know. “He fell for her. For the little girl he corrupted, but what if I’m nothing like that anymore? It ate me down to the fucking marrow.” I scoffed, “What if I’m tired of playing the role he wants me to play? But if I stop playing it, then—then he won’t like me anymore.” I laughed under my breath, not believing I was telling Mikey, the boss of the biggest criminal organization, that the core of my issues could be summarized as love problems.

Another huffed laugh, this time speaking faster than before. I wanted this to be over with, yet I couldn’t help but keep talking, “If he doesn’t love me anymore, then all I’ve done until now would have been for nothing. I would have exposed Shiho to all of this danger for nothing, Rai would have died for nothing.” Finally, I looked Mikey dead in the eyes once more, he seemed to have been looking at me for a while too now. I felt a weak smile form itself on my lips, “I can’t let it all go to waste, I was making a difference, right?”

Mikey laughed.

He laughed.

The air that left his mouth in light notes, that tone, he found it all funny and it was a genuine laugh too. It was odd to see life on his face.

“To have a man like Hanma put you in such a state of disarray. Life is truly full of surprises.” He commented, making me give him a deadly look as I asked if it was that funny.

Meeting my eyes right on, he nodded once, “Yes. It is. Because even after laying out all the pieces, you don’t see the solution that is right in front of you.”

Condescendence, arrogance. He spoke as if he knew better and I did not want to sense that coming from him. If it was that easy, then he should have simply told me instead of making me feel like shit. It pissed me off to no end. It reminded me of those people that would rather make fun of others who did not know something, rather than explaining and educating them even a little bit.

I clicked my tongue against my teeth, “And what is that solution? If it is that obvious…”

Mikey stood up and looked down at me, “Let go of your past.” He shrugged as a matter of fact, “The person you are turning into could become something with the right… ingredients.” Gently, his hand held onto my cheek. It felt somewhat soothing, so familiar. “But no bakers can work with rotten eggs.” He added, “So stop expecting anything of him. See,” His thumb caressed my cheek with such warmth, it felt strange coming from the man. “Should he not appreciate where your strength lies, the organization will.”

The darkness that pooled in his eyes felt like it was calling to me, like home, like exactly what I needed. Slowly, I nodded, his hand falling from my face and dropping at this side. It was truly odd how his actions seemed filled with emotions and his face void of any—delicately, he tapped his finger against my temple, “It’s bottled up in there, isn’t it? It’s a constant fight against that ever lasting ounce of goodness and hope you have for humanity.”

His hands clasped behind his back as he walked around the table and stopped there, facing me, “That alone makes me understand that, if hope wins the battle, I have no guarantee that you will remain with us.” My eyes widened at his words, I was unable to reply as he spoke once more, “You’re not a safe bet, you know that. So my question is the following,” He leaned over only slightly, “What do you get from staying in Bonten?”

Some dots connected in my brain and the words escaped my lips before I could even think them through or even theorize long enough, “Hold on—are you—do you think I’m the traitor?!”

Without a trace of a smile, he tilted his head slightly to the side, “It doesn’t matter. Tell me what you stand for—even better, who do you stand for.”

Giving him a worried look, I was starting to panic and looked around, “I’m here because–”

“For. You are here for…?”

I was taken aback by the interruption and cleared my throat, making it up as I went, “I’m here for—for Hanma? But also for Shiho, I need to keep her safe. I also want to be accepted in the organ–”

A loud offended huff escaped my lips when Mikey cut me off by saying, “It’s all futile. It’s nothing tangible, it’s all sentimental. Think bigger. Think for yourself, not for others.”

That was enough to make me think. What did I want? What am I even doing, really? Is it all for him and solely him? I want to stay in his world and see him but what about… about something bigger. I’m seeking the peace he brings me and somehow that peace was also found in the silence that followed that. The emptiness, the lack of anything, this numbness I felt after it.

After killing someone.

When she takes over, it’s so much easier because there is no need to fight back. It relieves the constant pressure I feel upon holding her back. When she takes control, it all disappears, just like when I fuck him, exactly when all I see is just him. Because when I’m with him, it feels like I’m somewhere else, far away from here. And when she’s here… I’m away, tucked in a comfortable bubble, far from all this hecticness.

So I understood.

I looked up at Mikey and smiled, “It just feels so good when all I have to do is listen. When I can let go and let her win for a moment—it’s a relief, and she’s what’s needed for the job.” My eyes drifted back to my hands that were resting palms up on my knees. With a half smile this time, I whispered, “It drowns the voices.” And it truly did, because when I ran whatever errands I was put to, all I had to do was do it well. I was focused on delivering on my word and not fucking up instead of focusing on regretting all that was being done. I had no time for second guesses when my brain was wired to be a lap dog for Bonten, maybe only fear of disappointing them—but at least I wouldn’t see her as much.

Mikey’s hand rested on my head sweetly as he patted it—maybe it should have felt patronizing, but there was so much in that touch that I felt some sort of connection to him.

“You are with us for your own good, that is much better of a reason. You’re not the only one who needs this, you should be proud you realized it soon enough.” He gave me a smile, only for a few seconds before returning to his usual expression, his hand falling from my head and the familiar warm feeling with it. He understood me.

His voice reached my ears again, “As for the voices…” He trailed off, my heart spiking up at the realization I had spoken it out loud, that my whisper meant nothing in a room bathed in deadly silence. “You’ll grow to live with it. The harder you try to get rid of them, the stronger they become.” There was more to it, so I waited for him to continue. He brought his hands behind his back, holding them still and out of sight, “If you ignore them, they become blurry,” His eyes locked on something behind me as his expression hardened, “they become faceless.” Then his eyes set on mine once more, some hints of sadness tainted the emptiness in them—it was somehow beautiful to see it on his face, but I did not pay it more attention. “It’s better that way.”

Nothing dripped from his voice. It was dull, dry, lacking even nostalgia from whatever had traveled through his mind, then his eyes adorned something close to mischievousness as he spoke, “Of course, this is our little secret.” Turning around, he walked to the window. I was unsure if I should follow but still stood up, following him with a short distance between us, “I see myself a lot in you, I know you understand what I am telling you.” I could not see his face, but his head was angled straight at the window, as if looking over the city or the little he could see of it from the second floor. “You must understand that your fall could sadden a few, it would be egotistical of you to die.” Then, his words—which seemed rough to hear and a bit cold, yet needed—changed drastically as he faced me like he had been caught in a moment of sadness, “It would also be a waste seeing the potential that would go down the drain,” he continued, “Should you better your relationship with those you work with, I’m sure your death would sadden even more people—at least if dying is what you plan on doing.” 

I had hardly ever heard him talk that much. When he walked past me, I felt a shiver run down my spine in fear he would push me or suddenly ask me to speak up, annoyed at my silence. He did no such thing and grabbed something from a desk nearby, “Anyone but Hanma really, which is why I brought you here. Partly.” A flat thud echoed as a file was dropped on the table. Mikey gestured at me, and tilted his head to the side, “You’re bored of your errands, I’m providing you with some entertainment.”

Opening the file, I started reading everything. The man had a normal job, a construction worker. Nuclear family, common transactions in his accounts—I looked up at Mikey just in time to see him drop another file on the one opened in my hands, “I was told you require an incentive to be more open about yourself,” to kill, was what he meant, “Hopefully this will suffice.”

This time, my eyes widened slightly as they traveled over the many pages attached to the file. This was a Shibata member. Fraud, offshore accounts linked to shell companies, bribery. His crime list was long but I did not care for big words, what followed was worse. A couple of news articles: a body found buried in cement, the police believe it could be the work of the mafia—which was stupid, since there was no mafia in this city; home-owner disturbed by a pungent smell in her apartment… finds a decaying corpse in her walls, and much more.

Looking away from the papers, I commented, “So he had to kill some people but was bad at getting rid of the bodies—do you want me to kill him?” I knew what I wanted as a response to this question. I wanted something clear, something that did not allow me to make a choice. Something that would, in a way, take away the responsibility from me.

Half a shrug.

That’s all I got from Mikey.

“What happens, happens. The goal is to get information out of him. If he doesn’t speak, he will turn into an example.”

It was a foolish way of thinking, so foolish that I let out a laugh upon hearing him, “I never quite understood why it was done like this. To betray his own organization is–” I paused, holding back the animosity that had no way of being there and scoffed, “Stupid to say the least.” Shaking my head, I tossed the files on the table and stood up, flattening the creases on my pants. Mikey nodded at me to go on, as if he was intrigued.

“What I’m saying is: if he speaks, he dies by our hands or we let him go—if we let him go, Shibata kills him for being a traitor!” I laughed in disbelief, “If he doesn’t speak, he gets killed by our hands.” This time I was fully facing Mikey, his arms were crossed over his chest as he watched me go on a rant he surely had no interest in, but I was already too deep in. I had to commit to it. “No outcome is any better than the other, he will not speak if it allows him to maintain his honor.”

He quirked a brow, “And you believe everyone has undying loyalty? People are flexible, so are their values. That is your role, to bend people—break them, if necessary.”

Out of one of the rooms came Sanzu. Something told me he had been standing there for longer than only a few seconds, he had been listening in, “Bonten didn’t get this far by being nice.” He then said my name, which had been done on so few occasions that it was much more off-putting than necessary. 

Now standing by Mikey’s side—who was already walking off to the window, leaving only Sanzu with me—he continued, “If we had let go of every louse that was fast enough to snitch we would look weak, do you get that?”

“What you’re saying is–”

“I’m saying they should be smart enough to not get caught. Then they wouldn’t have to be worried about dying in glue traps like the rats they all are.” He spat with so much disdain, one would almost feel pity for those who indeed died by Bonten’s hands. Something I used to feel as well until I understood the modus operandi that they used. But now, I could grasp how it all worked. Ultimately, we were only taking care of scums or those who hurt Bonten.

I held back a smile and sighed, looking Sanzu dead in the eyes with incredulity, “So getting caught is signing a death sentence?”

“One you avoided by being The Reaper’s bitch.” He gritted through his teeth.

The blood in my veins started boiling from the words he had spoken once more, but instead of giving in, I smiled mockingly and whined like a dog, head tilted to the side.

His eyes widened, “Oh, you’re in a fucking mood, huh? You’re insane—weirdo.”

Still staring him dead in the eyes, I let out a spelled out “Woof.”

He was even more distraught as he pushed me with much more strength than necessary, “Stop the bullshit.”

I gripped his hands tight and held onto him to not fall back, “Sorry! I thought you’d understand—you and me, we’re the same, aren’t we? Both of us being bitches of maniacs and all, right Mad Dog?” My nails were digging in his exposed forearms, his grip also tightened on my shirt before he gritted through his teeth, “You’re dead.”

“And you’re pissing me off.” I gritted back, trying to bring him closer out of frustration that was now slowly seeping out, “Might as well play the role you’ve been assigning me since the very beginning. Not that it made sense at first, but I might just get into it now.” I smiled mockingly, a tight smile of exhaustion. There was only so much disrespect I would take from these men when so little had been done that touched them personally. What had happened with Rai never truly affected them, nor did my relationship with Hanma. “You’re all just nosy, pissy boys that can’t see women thrive, that’s my hot take.” I finished, letting go of Sanzu with a loud sigh as he did the same upon meeting Mikey’s gaze.

The simple gesture of him reaching out and flattening the creases in my shirt was what threw me off first, before hearing him say, “You’re with Rindou on this one. Koko might join in if he’s not too busy.”

“What’s with the change of attitude, don’t tell me you’ll take a beating–”

Mikey said my name sternly, making me still any endeavor I could have undertaken; instead, my back straightened and I looked at Sanzu with confusion. He shook his head, half a smile adorning his lips, “Did you think you’d get out there on your own?”

The scoff he let out was so disdainful I felt my mouth open slightly enough for me to run my tongue over my teeth in an attempt to hold back any harsh words that could weigh on the balance of Mikey’s approval. “Trust is not that easy to get, you know.” The dog added.

They say to twist your tongue seven times in your mouth before speaking, but I was in a rush to defend myself so I bit back, “One would think that something close to two years in Bonten’s ranks would be enough to gain some amount of trust.” But I knew how it went, the song was so familiar that there was no surprise when he started…

“But you didn’t, do you know why? Because–”

“Because I’m worse than the plague only by proxy of being on friendly terms with The Reaper.” I stated in a bored tone, making Sanzu’s eyes widen only in shock at the attitude he was receiving. He got a hold of himself rather fast as he laughed, grabbing the files from the table and shoving them to my chest, “Friendly terms?” He quoted in disbelief, “The woman’s fucking death itself, the motherfucker that calls himself ‘the reckoning’—the most selfish piece of shit on Earth! I’ll give you one thing that fucker is, he’s equally a piece of shit to everyone, kudos on not discriminating!”

Suddenly I regretted speaking. It seemed I had struck a nerve, any gall I had to stand up to him was slowly seeping out as I stood there, my hands holding the files to my chest as he stepped back and howled a laugh, “Oh, to be there the day you realize what this man is—the day you realize he stops at nothing to get what he wants, even if that means fucking up everyone’s diligent work and lives.”

Cutting him off, I let my hands fall to my side and stepped closer to him, “What a perfect fit for Bonten, don’t you think? Tell me something you’d never stoop low enough to if it meant bringing much more power to Bonten—tell me you wouldn’t sacrifice some things for the sake of this organization!” I walked up chest to chest to the man and whispered, “To your master, Mikey.”

I suppose I had asked for it, in the end. Maybe I was prepared mentally enough for it that it didn’t hurt when his fist met my jaw hard enough to hear a slight cracking sound. I liked to believe it was his own knuckles, but who was I truly kidding? Between gritted teeth, he whispered, “You have no damn idea what you’re defending.” My eyes started tearing up but my resolve was no less, I replied, “It is so easy to play you that I manage to strike a chord each and every damn time. I know you.” I whispered, taking a large step back just as Mikey called out sternly, “Enough!”

Both of our heads turned to the smaller man by the window as he gestured at Sanzu for something the scarred man patted his pockets for. A few seconds passed as he handed me a paper with a number scribbled on it, “Call Rindou yourself, I’m not giving him the bad news.” Just like that, he walked away, fist clenching and opening and eyes filled with murder. It seemed a simple way to describe it but there were no other words, and yet, I knew his anger was not directed at me for some reason.

“If he hates me that much, send me to another errand with someone else.”

“You are going.” Mikey stated as he slowly turned around to face us, although ‘us’ had shifted to ‘me’ as Sanzu walked out of the room. “Or throw another tantrum, demonstrate you’re not cut out for this for the umpteenth time.” Mikey’s steps were quiet, reluctant, but steadily approaching me, making me fear what would happen next. I was taken aback already by his harsh words, but to have him come close to me again? I needed to keep my mouth shut no matter what, I couldn’t fuck up. I had gotten too comfortable, too open with him, it needed to die down.

“Do you understand that things will not always go your way? No matter how hard you try, someone will always fuck up every calculated thing you’ve ever done, every effort you’ve put in will go to waste in a blink of an eye—in one change of heart.” He took a deep breath and looked at me with some sort of gentleness in his gaze, “Do you know why?”

A silence.

I held his gaze for a moment, fearful if I should even breathe or utter a word. As seconds passed, I whispered a small, “No…”

His hand flew to my painful jaw as he gripped it tight and gritted through his teeth, “Because life isn’t fair.” With a hard push, he got my face away from his and stepped back, “Some people are selfish, and no amount of selflessness will ever balance it.” He sighed defeatedly before looking over his shoulder and at me. The blank stare had returned, taking up its rightful place on the man’s face. It was free from the hatred that had sparked in his eyes earlier, but there was an uncertainty on whether this expression on his face was better than the one prior. It was surely more familiar, but seeing him like this, I couldn’t help but wonder how suffocating it must be to shove all that he felt deep inside, far from anyone.

He gestured my way, “You will find your way out on your own, Rindou should already be on his way.” With that, he left the living room to join Sanzu. I only stood there for a few seconds before getting into the elevator and adding Rindou’s number into my phone. I was never keen on adding their full name in there, instead I put the two men dancing and a thumbs up, the good twin emoji—it made sense in my head. 

I quickly texted him, telling him I was assigned on an errand with him, and if he was not already at the location perhaps he could come to pick me up at Mikey’s place.

His reply was more or less what I expected.

👯‍♂️👍: whos this

To which I replied with my name, adding just in case it did not ring a bell, “Hanma’s girl.”

He was already typing. It stopped, returned and stopped again as he finally replied.

👯‍♂️👍: the slaughtered little lamb

👯‍♂️👍: ??

👯‍♂️👍: finally getting ur number after all this time

👯‍♂️👍: oh this is good

👯‍♂️👍: whats mikeys address tho

👯‍♂️👍: shit rans gonna be pissin himself when i tell him

👯‍♂️👍: r u sending the address or

All these messages had been sent consecutively without even a second for me to reply and he was already pressing me, how hurried was the man? As I was typing it in, the screen lit up with his contact. I was hesitant to pick up but did so within a short debate of three seconds.

“I was texting you the address.” was how I started. There were no formalities or anything, it was for work, why would I ask him if he was fine or how his day was going?

I heard him howl a laugh on the other end of the call, the microphone was odd and it made me understand he was driving and probably had put me on speaker or, even better, on his car’s microphone and speakers. A loud honking followed as he spat something at someone on the road, then his light voice returned, “It really is you! Ah shit, this is so funny, I needed to make sure and stuff in case one of these bastards were tryna prank me or somethin’.”

“That’d be a bit childish, I don’t think they would do that. You and your brother are probably the most immature–”

“Yeah, you don’t really know Takeomi, make one joke about whatever and he’ll take it personally and beat your ass—but who cares, the address come on, come on, come on.” This felt like a normal conversation, albeit with him rushing me over and over. I had to cut him off by telling him the address or he’d keep repeating ‘come on’ which was starting to get on my nerves. Of course, he kept saying it a few more times as I told him the place, so I had to repeat myself, then he was good and sighed, “Ah, that’s Mikey’s place, shoulda said that.”

Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I took a deep breath. I had told him, by text, but the idiot was too caught up in the weird elation of having my number that he did not pay attention. I chuckled, “Yeah, I didn’t know if you knew where to come, better safe than sorry, right?”

He hummed out loud then barked out a laugh, “Anger management classes sure do fucking wonders on someone as insane as you.”

“I don’t have anger issues. And I’m rationalizing that you’re just that stupid, so why would I get mad, you know?” I smirked proudly on my side of the phone, hearing an indignant huff from the younger brother on the other end of the call. Instead of retorting anything, he told me he’d be there in two minutes, which he estimated correctly.

Two minutes on the clock and a car stopped in the middle of the road, honking a few times for attention. He was blocking the entire street, but pulled down his window and got his head out with his elbow resting on the side, “Get in, your slow ass is blocking the road, come on.” 

Outraged, I couldn’t let out any proper sentences, I could only look like a fish as I opened and closed my mouth on my way to his car in a rush. When I tried opening the door, it was locked—Rindou rolled his eyes and unlocked it. This man amazed me with how much he could blame someone other than himself even for the smallest things. As I slid inside, he started the car immediately, the seatbelt too rigid for me to pull it as he sped up all too suddenly. Once we were on the highway and he settled on a certain speed, I could finally put on my seatbelt and as I did, Rindou let go of the wheel and used his knee to hold it still.

“Mikey’s file probably mentions one dude but there’s three—he doesn’t ever let go of his two minions, so that’s embarrassing as it is to be the henchman of a guy that works in construction, not gonna lie.” He pulled out his phone and texted someone rapidly, his eyes leaving the road and making my anxiety spike up. Nodding alongside his words, I hummed in agreement as he added, “It’s your first fun job, right?”

I gave him a small yup.

The silence didn’t even have time to settle before Rindou sighed loudly, “Why are you on crack during meetings and acting all quiet now?”

“Do you want a real answer or is this small talk?” I asked dryly.

“Do I look like I do small talk?” Rindou replied rhetorically, his gaze clearly telling me he found me more than idiotic right now.

Giving him a huffed laugh, I replied to him, “You look like you wanna get on my nerves and if I let you, I’ll bear the consequences of both of our actions. I’d rather stay quiet.”

“Yeah, but that’s boring, aren’t we like… supposed to open your chakra out there? Or whatever Mikey said, true self and whatnot. Fucker’s a cryptid.” He shrugged, taking a sudden turn when he almost missed the exit he was supposed to take.

There was a sincere huffed laugh that escaped my nose amidst the gasp when my hand gripped the handle above the window for stability. It was starting to get warm in the car from the sun outside so I pointed at the dashboard, “Could you please turn on the air conditioning?”

“Do it yourself, what are you, twelve?” He retorted, grabbing his sunglasses from the nook above his head, putting them on with quite some style. “I’m being polite. I’ll do it, but fuck’s sake you’re a dick.” I retorted, to which he laughed loudly and opened his window, yawning dramatically at my words. Bringing his hand to his mouth for effect, he then turned to me, his index raised, “Bitch,” he raised his middle finger too, “and moan. That’s all you do, and it’s not even fun.”

The back of his head hit the seat, “We still got like fifteen minutes to go, so make it fun! Here–” He grabbed his phone and lifted it to his face, unlocking it, before handing it to me, “Get Ran’s number, send him a text and fuck with him.”

I locked his phone and tossed it in the nook of the dashboard, “What am I, an iPad kid?” I asked in disbelief.

“Ugh, you’re so on the defensive. I’m not the one who tried to fuck you in an elevator—hell, I’m not the one who drugged someone and fucked someone else in front of that first someone!” He exclaimed in annoyance.

“Oh no, you’re just an innocent bystander, right?” I asked with fake pleading eyes, earning myself a shake of the head from the man next to me.

“You’re so bitter my mouth feels watery. You know what they say—when life gives you lemons, let the lemon go kill a man to set her free like a bird!”

There was a short silence, then I turned my head slowly toward him, “Lemons are sour, first of all. And if he speaks, I won’t have to kill him. I don’t enjoy killing–” Lie. And she had to remind me of that when I saw her in the rearview mirror, blood pouring from her eyes, her mouth, the middle of her forehead—which made no sense, she was killed by a bullet to the chest. I was not heartless enough to shoot her in the head. It was my imagination once more. I had to ignore it, like Mikey said; the more I paid attention to it, the more she would come back.

“Yeah, that’s why Mikey brought you in, huh? To ‘not enjoy’ it all, no, yeah you’re right.” Rindou commented, shutting his mouth for a moment. But that moment only lasted as little as it took him to draw in a deep breath. He added, “Usually teamwork here has some sense to it, you know? Gotta have the perfect combo of brains, brawns, creativity—craziness, if you will.”

I smiled mockingly, “And you’re clearly not the brain, so what are you?”

“Koko’s the brain today, I’m the brawn and you,” He flicked my forehead enough to make me wince, “You’re gonna be our little Picasso! Basically, Mikey got some fun stuff out in the warehouse where Koko’s waiting, yeah?”

I nodded, a bit apprehensive about where this was going but let him continue, finding it still rather enjoyable to have him not be too annoying right now. Maybe I could stop biting back too and just relax slightly. Ran wasn’t here, it could be alright. 

With one hand on the wheel and the other towards me, he started drawing shapes in the air as he spoke, “So there’s a little tray on wheels and tons of tools to scare the guy, but if he doesn’t speak, you’ll use it. First I’m gonna beat him up, and if he doesn’t spit it out, it’s your turn!” It all sounded rough and genuinely fucked up, so why was I feeling somewhat excited? My heart was beating faster, was it from fear of messing up or in excitement of proving myself? Was it that I could finally let everything out if that man didn’t speak?

I let out a short laugh and pushed Rindou’s arm away, “I’ll do it right off the bat if you don’t want to break your nails, you know.” I joked, focusing on the road ahead to ignore that still-sitting ghost of hers in the backseat. Her presence was making me uneasy, but I was trying my best to avoid her gaze in the mirror, mouth moving this time but there was no sound. Rindou looked into the rearview mirror and huffed almost in disappointment at seeing nothing, but looked back at the road, “Ran goes to the manicures, not me. Last week, his usual girl asked if he wanted to get gel nails or something—shit, he got pissed and stormed outta there, it was so funny.”

“He looks like he has an over the top skincare routine.” I commented off-handedly, making Rindou burst out laughing, a laugh that turned into wheezing for a few seconds before he finally calmed down and leaned over the wheel with another loud sigh, “He does though, every step possible, rose water, masks, everything.”

“You look like an all-in-one kinda guy with the little you know about that shit.” I commented playfully, making him huff a short laugh as he pulled to the side of the road suddenly and stopped his car, looking at a few cars passing by. His eyes were focused, serious, something I so rarely saw on any of the Haitanis. I knew not to interrupt upon reading the mood.

Once his eyes parted from the road, he started the car once more and drove back in his lane.

Lowering the volume of the radio, I called out his name and earned his attention, “What was that?”

“Didn’t you notice they’ve been tailing us?” He asked in half-disbelief, half-annoyance that was more aimed at the people that had been following us. I shook my head and immediately started looking around to see what else I had been missing. I felt like an idiot to have let my spite for the Haitanis win over my awareness, or paranoia as Hanma called it. Glancing at Rindou, I noticed that something was going on in his head, he was not really there, he was thinking, gears turning while staring right ahead.

As if on cue, he spoke again, “We’ll take a different route, I ain’t leading those fuckers to our warehouse.” Resting his head against the seat, he grinned and threw me a smirk, “Buckle up, I’m gonna make sure none of them are following us.” 

With wide eyes, I stared in confusion ready to ask what he meant, then my hand flew to my seatbelt when he increased the speed and started driving like a madman, getting honked at each car he zigzagged between. “Shit, this is so fun!”

“You have a fucking death wish.” I spat at him, closing my eyes only for a moment until I opened them and started to bathe in the adrenaline I was feeling. Laughing like a maniac—or was it like a crazy kid?—Rindou replied, “You don’t trust my skills? We’re not gonna crash, don't worry.”

Giving him a stony look, I hissed, “I’m going to kill you.” The emphasis explained my former words, he barked a laugh and only sped up even more, “Okay woman, keep that energy for later, yeah?”

Him not taking me seriously had me feeling mixed emotions. Was I pissed off because he did not think I was capable of it, or was I relieved for the same reason? Or perhaps did it make me feel sort of normal in the moment to have him be this casual about a threat that even I didn't know if I meant as a joke or not? Taking his phone again, Rindou unlocked it just like before and handed it to me, “Text Koko we’ll be there in 15, fucker’s gonna be mad we’re not there on time but it doesn’t matter.”

“You know I have his number, I can do it from mine.”

He fully faced me for a second, his mouth gaped, “Heyo, you have his—and he has yours?! Ah!” He scoffed, “Been tryna get your number through him for ages and he’s been telling us he doesn’t have it. Oh, that—oh, that twink’s in trouble.” He huffed in shock and offense, I believed. Smiling, I thanked Koko for not folding. I didn’t know what the Haitanis would have done if they had gotten my number during my paranoia. I would have made more mistakes than I thought possible, I would have probably looked insane too.

“That’s rough, huh?” I said proudly, texting Koko who replied in seconds with a simple ‘ok’.

The adrenaline of earlier was slowly dissipating and by the time we arrived at the warehouse, a place that smelled of salty sea water and fish, Rindou made sure to comb his hair quickly before getting out. Upon leaving the car, the rising temperature hit more without the air conditioning and I pulled a bit at the collar of my shirt. 

Seemingly, Rindou shared my vision and took off his jacket to drop it on his seat, leaving him in a black polo t-shirt. Because wearing a simple shirt was not enough. I was sure it was expensive, and he did look the part too. The shirt tucked inside his gray suit pants, just as fancy as his shoes and watch were. This man was not dressed to kill, he was dressed to get laid.

“Gawking much?” He raised a brow, pushing down his sunglasses slightly on his nose to give me an arrogant smile.

I shook my head and walked ahead of him, “If you’re going to dress this pricey, you should look into a cute little trenchcoat like that man has in American Psycho. That way your shit won’t get ruined.”

He laughed and brought his glasses back in place, “Hell if I care, I’m not gonna look lame if I have to represent, woman.” He said the word in a comical manner. Giving him a tight smile over my shoulder, I held back from commenting further and entered the shabby building. I noticed how everything seemed to have stopped dead in its tracks, cranes carrying huge containers, boats by the harbor still filled with fish and other catch, and lunch boxes left on some barrels.

Had Bonten asked them to leave for a certain amount of time? Was that their agreement? I did not see anyone around here, it would make sense why Koko was keen on being there on time. I wondered…

“Come on! Get in! Are you nervous or something?” Rindou nudged me from behind and forced me inside the building where three men were tied on chairs with Koko sitting on some dirty barrel, his phone in hand. The men were exhausted, they were barely moaning or pleading for their lives—how long had they been there?

Koko looked up from his phone, his hair falling over his beautiful white outfit. Both his shirt and pants were white, or more so an egg white shade. He wore some sandals and was speckless. 

My eyes flew from Koko to Rindou as I uttered under my breath, “I’m guessing I’m the one who’s going to get dirty?” A nervous laugh escaped my lips. It was a relief when Koko chuckled as he shoved his phone into his back pocket and walked up to us, “Looking at you, I don’t believe it’s going to be a huge loss if this gets messy.”

With a silent gasp, I closed my mouth and held back a smile at the comment he had thrown at me, “You are in a good mood, that’s nice.” I added, shaking my head in disbelief, only now noticing Rindou had gone up to the men on display. He punched one and pressed his knee against the groin of the man in the middle, “What’s your rank? I’m not gonna waste time on cockroaches.” The man under him hissed and spat the blood that had pooled up in his mouth, his gaze meeting Rindou’s without fear. Not a word escaped.

Rindou smiled. “Aight crazy, they’re all yours.” He got off the man and turned around, cracking his knuckles. The man called the younger brother a wuss under his breath and, in less than a second, he received a knee up his chin, a clean crack easily audible, “Watch your tongue, I’m being a gentleman here, yeah? Let the lady show her skills.” Rindou said in a pissed off tone mixed with mockery.

With that, he got out of the way and pushed the tray he had mentioned earlier. I felt my interest piqued as I made my way to it and gave it a good look.  A handsaw, screwdrivers, all different sizes and shapes, knives, a whip even—a scalpel. There were even forceps, and that drill dentists used; there were many more items and I felt a shiver run down my spine at the mere sight. Slowly, I grabbed the gloves and put them on. It felt weirdly comforting, a familiarity settling in my brain as I pushed my hands into the fabric, following movements I was unaware why I knew so deeply. I watched my reflection in the scalpel blade and smiled at it, it felt nice to be useful.

“Put this on at least, I’m not a dick.” Koko said, tossing me a black latex apron that I caught without much thought into it—about to wrap it behind my back, I felt Rindou’s hands grabbing each end of the ties as he pulled at it like a corset and tied it tightly before leaning over my shoulder, “Latex looks good on you.”

I elbowed him in the face and clicked my tongue before walking up to the three men, Koko laughing to himself on the side while Rindou grunted and muttered under his breath.

Clearing my throat, I crouched in front of the man in the middle and smiled, “I don’t think your rank’s gonna be that useful. Your info is important to us, so just tell us what you know and you’ll walk out.” I patted his knee.

He hissed in disgust, “No thank you.”

I nodded and stood up with the same sweet smile, my entire body burst aflame as I finally stabbed his cheek with the scalpel I had been holding. I did not pull it out as I leaned over him, “If I say please?”

His eyes widened. When he tried to speak, blood poured from his mouth but he still grinned, “Cute act, but no one cares about you. I know who you are, you’re The Reaper’s bitch.” Before he could even think of anything else to add, I drew the scalpel down to his mouth, splitting his cheek open wide. 

A howl of pain tore from his throat, guttural, deep. I placed a hand on my chest, “I felt that.” Looking down at my hand, it was slightly shaking but I needed more of this thrill. He needed to disrespect me more, to show me how rotten he was and how little he deserved to live. I was needed for this. They wanted me for this, it felt so unbelievably good to have them watch me give them exactly what I have been called here to do.

I pressed my forehead against his; he tried hard to pull back, but I gripped his hair tight and held him there, blood from his attempt at spitting insults at me tainting my apron. So I closed my eyes, “Shh, shh, it’s not very feminist of you to define me through a man, you know?”

“The fuck do I care?” He uttered with a wild tongue that spilled its edges out of his mouth through the large gap on the side of his face as he spoke. I clicked my tongue in response and let go of him brusquely, making sure to rip a chunk of hair in the process that I tossed on the man on the right. “Well, I care! And you should do everything to please me since I’m the one in control right now.”

“Kill me. I won’t say shit.” He spat, quite literally as there was more blood spilling from his mouth than even a small hint of a threat in his words.

Quirking a brow at first, I then frowned and shook my head, “Well I care, killing you would be–”

The man ignored me completely and looked over at Rindou and smiled at him—one would claim some homoeroticism from that, but I knew he was being blatantly disrespectful—then in the most annoying tone he called out, “Why don’t you try getting shit outta me? She sucks.”

I saw red. Not quite literally, but I knew the embarrassment I felt had fueled the rage at my very core which, luckily, was allowed to spill over today. I was allowed to let it all out and not hold back, just for this, to show I was good at this. 

Feminine rage could fuel anyone enough to do the most atrocious acts.

My hand that still held the scalpel tightened around the handle as I gripped it with my full fist before shoving it upwards through his nose cartilage. A soft crunching noise followed before the guy started breathing weirdly. Before he could speak, I leaned over ever so slightly and asked, “If I pull it out, d’you think there will be some snot on it? The people wonder.” I scoffed, letting go of the surgical tool but it was so well-balanced inside the man’s nose it did not fall. I found it rather funny and huffed a laugh under my breath before turning around and taking a good look at the tray.

I knew what I needed, it was going to be rather annoying for him, of course, but they would love it. It was not too painful, he would live, right? All he needed was to speak up and stop being a rude piece of shit and it will all be over–

That’s a bit fucked up, even for you.

I heard her.

Why was she here? My eyes widened, I looked around quickly trying to see where she was—but Mikey said not to pay her any attention—she shouldn’t be here though. Not when I was trying to let it all out, to let her out instead of staying as myself, as this stupid idiot that’s paralyzed over noth–

The wheel of the tray hit my shoe and brought me back to reality as my eyes met Rindou’s. He raised a brow in confusion and perhaps with some tinge of judgment, “Need glasses, crazy?” He gestured at the tray.

Chuckling, I crouched by the tray and ignored whatever sensation I had of being watched by anyone but those very real and tangible people around me. I rummaged through some things, making sure not to cut myself and finally placed my hand on exactly what I needed. Immediately, I stood up with my hands behind my back and grinned at the man with the scalpel through his nose.

With a roll of my eyes, I plugged it out of there and tossed it on the ground, “You look embarrassing.” I commented as I started swinging in place from my toes to my heel a few times, not once breaking the silent staring contest, fully aware I looked childish but the self-consciousness I was supposed to feel had yet to make its way to my brain.

The man sluggishly said, “Are you a dumb-ass?”

With wide eyes and a slight pout, I stopped my movement and leaned towards him, “Take it back, I was going to be super nice.”

He scoffed, “Shoot me, I’m fucking bored.”

I nodded in understanding, “Let’s make it fun then!” With a dramatic effect, I brought my hands back in front of me and showed off my little treasure, a tiny ‘ta-da’ slipping from my lips. The man’s gaze oscillated from my hands to my eyes; as he stared, I started working on it.

It was harder to focus in this state, but once I managed to thread the needle, I grinned, “I’ll fix you up, cause I’m nice like that. I’ll admit, I went a bit hard on you.” With that, I needed to get his attention fully on me so I grabbed the back of his head, his hair neatly held between my fingers as my hand laid flat on the top of his head. “It might sting.” I warned him—I was no nurse, and flesh was rather different than any fabric I had ever sewn.

Maybe I shoved it a bit too far.

Maybe the needle threaded through his cheek and his tongue, but I could not be to blame.

He howled in pain.

I suppose it hurt, but his screams had been incessant. I managed to ignore it.

Lower cheek, tongue, upper cheek, repeat. Four times and it was… “Like new!”

Just as the words escaped my mouth, the man pushed himself and made the chair fall, his back hitting the floor—not one thanks left his mouth. Only attempts at insults, but he could hardly speak.

Now he was trying to crawl back, slowly putting some distance between us. I tilted my head to the side and for a second, time seemed to have stopped. My body moved on instinct solely, muscle memory ingrained into my fibers guiding my movements towards the vision I was seeing. What needed to happen.

I blinked, and here I was, the scene so familiar it hurt my brain to ponder it any further, holding a sledgehammer with both my hands behind my back before I lifted it and slammed it on his knees.

I was met with horrid screams of pain and fear, added to them was the crushing sound of his bones snapping under the pressure—although those were not the only things that snapped. He had been stupid enough to let his weakness win, to yell at the top of his lungs, ripping the stitches I had spent such careful time on putting together. He still hadn’t stopped wailing, he was just scurrying away like a worm on the ground. The sight was pitiful, I groaned and said, “You keep yapping and yapping, and fucking yapping!” I exclaimed.

Fear and disbelief were almost all that filled his gaze, but something was much stronger as he stared at me straight in the eyes, just one wordless sentence: let me leave.

It was not happening, not in these conditions. So I did as my work required. I grabbed his ankles and pulled him towards me; he was fast to kick my arm in a last resort defense as he screamed in utter pain. I let out a dry laugh before dropping his ankles, massaging my hands in the process.

“Oh, you can still use them?” I asked, gesturing to my own throat, or rather the vocal cords. “Gotta fix that, right?” Pursing my lips mockingly, I went to grab the sledgehammer once more but heard Koko call out my name sternly. He received a glare as my sole response.

He sighed, “Focus. Kill the guy or let him rot but we don’t have all day.”

I huffed a laugh, “Brains, brawns, and crazy. More like, killjoy,” I pointed at Koko, then Rindou, “Bit funny,” then myself, “And real fun.” As I shut my mouth, I dropped the sledgehammer with a roll of my eyes. The handle of it fell on the man, which earned me a heartfelt insult from him, but also exhausted expletives from Koko. Raising both my hands in defense, I chuckled, “Hey, I dropped it. No more sledgehammer.”

As quickly as I said so, I dropped to my knees, half-straddling the man’s chest once I took back a hold of the scalpel. Immediately, I cut off his tongue and stood up, “Done! Nothing else, promised!” And I was a woman of my words, I still had principles. I also did not wish to see any more of him, so I grabbed a tarp to throw on him, “So you play dead and I’ll let you live, pinky promise.” I said, hooking my finger with his before I covered him up.

Everything felt so hazy in such a good way. It was a high I had never felt, ever. Was this all from the thrill of it? It sounded so simple, but that’s all I could blame it—beating a man up and hoping he would speak. Or was I hoping he would speak? The less he was cooperative, the higher the chance of me being able to let all my frustration out.

With a heavy sigh, I turned around and stood once more in front of the two remaining tied men. As I raised my hands before talking, I noticed some stains on my shirt and rolled my eyes, “Messy mess, yikes.” I rolled up my sleeves to make sure I did not see the blood then started, “So! Who’s gonna talk?” I asked. It was a simple question that required a simple answer, and yet they all stayed quiet, except for the one that really needed to keep his mouth shut.

The man under the tarp tried to yell out something. Not only was it awkward to hear, but it was a breach of our promise—he had made a sound. I turned towards Rindou and said, “Kill him. If he can’t play dead, he’ll be dead.”

Rindou quirked a brow.

“Please?” I added sweetly.

While pulling out his gun, he nodded and commented, “See, education is the key for great relationships.” Bang. He did not need to look much to aim for the man’s head without even seeing him under the tarp, “Being kind, you know it’s rare and I’m full of that kindness.”

“Thank you Rin…” I said, only to feel odd by using the nickname and adding, “–dou… Rindou, okay that was weird. Sorry.”

Maybe I was getting ahead of myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have been feeling so comfortable, I was barely starting to get along with the guy.

But you find him fun. You find a killer fun. Cold-blooded. He doesn’t care. Is that funny?

I shook my head and looked back at the two men in front of me, “I keep my promises, but if he doesn’t do his part…” I gestured slitting my throat, “You know?” I gave them half a smile, “So, who has the answer?”

The man on the left made a sound.

With a short nod his way, I asked, “Leftie, yes?”

“Will I live if I speak?” He asked, barely above a whisper.

“Well, someone has got to live to tell the tale, right? So, the one who gives me the most important info gets to walk out alive—now, I can’t promise unscathed ‘cause you might need a nudge at some point.” It made sense, but I didn’t think it would be efficient enough that one of them would rush to speak to me the moment those words left my mouth.

The one on the left was the first one to give us something, “We… we know you’re the ones behind the gala Friday evening.”

Rightie added to it, “It’s a trap so no one’s coming!”

The awkward silence that followed almost brought me to tears with laughter but instead I gave them a long stare. Koko stayed quiet too but texted someone while Rindou met my eyes as if to tell me they were much more stupid than we expected.

I hummed, “Well, you’re either dull or you’re not being told shit, guys. Sorry to break it to you. Let’s think, yeah? Why would it be a trap?” I asked, gesturing for them to go on and give me some genuine replies.

Leftie replied first, “Many people—there’s too many people going, any of them could be there to kill our–”

Interrupting him, I raised a brow, “Your people? Like you’ve been killing ours? Come on, we’re at least civil enough not to kill when there are civilians around. Call it having some decency.” The last word was said in a higher tone, it was probably not a word they were familiar with either, considering how low they were ready to hit. “See, involving innocent people would be almost as low as… ah, yes! Lacing drugs to try to kill surely only bad, bad people, but guess what! That actually ends up killing those that didn’t ask for shit, who would’ve thought!” I saw Koko gesture from the corner of my eye to wrap it up, or get some shit out of them so I pressed some more.

With that they started dropping the most useless information ever; taking turns, they would speak one after the other. The sole useful information was the name of some of our dealers that were compromised, which would help for the rat extermination I suppose, but nothing more. Rin and Koko were getting impatient, more so the latter than the former. I needed to get something good out of them, anything.

“Enough, enough. You know jack shit, so we’ll make a deal, yeah?” I said, smiling sweetly.

That seemed to intrigue every man in the warehouse. I was treading murky waters, but I could make something good out of this.

“Here are three things I’ll need you all to provide me with, yeah?” They nodded, I patted their cheeks condescendingly and grinned, “One, the address for where the next deal is happening–”

Rightie cut me off, “How would we know?”

I tutted him, “That’s your problem, isn’t it? I need it, so get it for me. It’s simple.” I looked back at the tray and grabbed wire cutters, then snapped one of his fingers off, “That’s for interrupting me, by the way. God, stop screaming, it’s just a finger!” I said, covering my ears for a moment until he shut his mouth.

With a sigh, I continued, “Dos! Gotta be kind and give us your next meet-up address too, unless Shibata is dumb enough to have only one set address. Hm, could be. Doesn’t matter, I need it.” They looked at each other but kept it at exchanging gazes and not words. They knew it wouldn’t have gone their way, had they started talking. How tame.

“And last, but not least,” I grabbed both their jaws and turned them towards me to make sure they were listening, “Make sure your people are coming to the gala. I’d say this one is the most important, but our deal includes all those three simple tasks I’m giving you, yeah?” They nodded while I asked over my shoulder for Rindou to untie them. It felt so nice to be on talking terms, not just uselessly mean comments that had no way of leading anywhere if we had to keep teaming together on the long run.

Glancing at Koko, I was still a bit hesitant and wanted to make sure I was not speaking bullshit, “We’ll keep an eye on you, of course,” Koko nodded, so I continued, “We won’t interact, but you have 3 days! You’re not leaving our sight until it’s done, and if by the end of those beautiful 72 hours you don’t have what we need… well…” I gestured with my chin at the man behind them, “Deal?”

Rindou freed Leftie first, and as he cut Rightie’s ties, the asshole jumped me—I barely had time to react as blood splattered all over my face. That’s when I processed the loud noise that had occurred. That’s when I realized Rindou had shot him before he could properly lay a hand on me, his body falling forward on me when the younger brother grabbed him by the collar and tossed him back.

I slowly turned to Leftie and gave him a smile, “Good boy. See what you avoided?” Something felt off in my tone. I knew it. But I couldn’t help it. It was not something new—hell, another guy had been shot right before, so why was I suddenly fully numb? Why was my mind thousands of miles away at this very moment?

“Get out now, two of our guys are waiting to get you home.” Koko almost dragged the guy out of there and once he was gone, a silence fell. Slowly, I focused back on the here and now, the impossible heat of the weather, the blood slowly dripping down my face along with sweat, the way my hands were shaking and how weak my legs were.

Rindou started clapping before sighing loudly, “That was insane!”

Facing him, I chuckled, albeit nervously, “Insane ‘yay’ or insane ‘nay’?”

He pursed his lips in doubt, “I mean, you’re efficient for sure! Give it time and you’ll make a name for yourself, you know?”

“As fun as this was, you,” Koko pointed at me, “made a fucking mess, and it was painful to watch. You were something else out there. Something that needs to be looked over.” He paused, as if assessing what was up with me then scoffed. “But glad you’re back to your normal self, for now.”

He looked back at Rindou, “And you? You enjoyed the show, seeing how little you did to stop any of it.”

“Hey, can’t blame me, it was so much fun to watch, don’t you think Koko?”

The latter shook his head and started walking out, “Whatever it was, I’m done. You both get home safe. I have a lot of shit to do, a gala to prepare–”

“Little date with your blondie?” Rindou called out.

All Koko replied with was a middle finger over his shoulder, leaving me with Rindou.

The brother shoved my side, “Aight, you look like shit, so I’ll be nice.” He sighed dramatically, throwing his arm over my shoulder casually and in no flirtatious way, which was rare. “Let’s get some drinks, you look like ass. But don’t stain my seats though, I think I have some wipes for Ran’s hands or whatever in my car.”

I looked at him in confusion and had to ask, “We… are getting drinks? You and I?”

“I mean yeah, we just finished a job. Gotta relax, crazy. D’ya ever do that?”

“I’ll text Hanma that I won’t be home right away then…” I trailed off, still confused.

Rindou called my name again, I looked his way and he took a picture, “I’m updating him, don’t worry.”

Just as he sent the picture, I sent my text.

As we got to the car, I wondered in the back of my head. Will Hanma get jealous?

[Part 6]

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 4

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 11 013

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Blood and Injury // Necrophilia jokes // Slight mention of ED (not reader)

There was something uncanny in having two people looking for a new place, to perhaps even build a new life, while in a different part of the city something much more tragic was happening.

It was nothing remotely close to dramatic to those who were used to it, to people that had been desensitized to the show that was happening right now. To people like Mikey. He could watch the scene displayed in front of him for hours without a hint of regret, so people thought. What regrets could a man with a blank expression portray? His eyes bore intensely into every action, following each hit, each breath, each step—he was taking it all in, unflinching. Part of his brain would sometimes attempt to resurface, that part of him that was more caring, but he was fast to turn it off.  Having him vulnerable to any sort of thing would mean the end of it all.

Many would label their actions as distasteful, gruesome, illegal, and immoral. Even more would be happy should they stop. But what would happen then? Once all the wrongs of the world were not contained anymore? Once all that money that was being fed to the big cats—that was helping the economy flow as it should, that was helping desperate people get any sort of income to provide for their family because the society they were born in could not care enough to let them earn enough to live—was no more?

What would happen then? 

Then it would all come crashing down.

Earning money legally was a privilege that many seemed to bask in, along with their naivety, but so many more had to work with the risk of losing it all. Their money, their life, their freedom.

In some way, Mikey found it much more honorable.

And it all rested on his shoulders. 

Should he take the fall, everything would go amiss, with people fighting for their businesses, their territory, for power. He would not—no, he could not allow himself to be remotely vulnerable, that was why he relied on Sanzu to keep him in check for what was at stake. It seemed sad to think that the blond man needed to be reminded of what could go wrong if he dared to feel human, but it was necessary. Both men knew.

It needed to be done.

“See Ran, the guy isn’t talking. Let me beat him up, your technique ain’t it.” Rindou spoke a few steps away from his brother as he watched him beat a guy to the pulp with his baton, gritting his teeth and hissing insults, questions, everything. 

A sigh was heard next to Mikey. A man that had no need to be there stood by the leader’s side, arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head, “Why did you not call Sanzu or The Reaper in? The Haitanis are not extortionists at all. They have close to no patience–”

“I trust them.” Mikey stated, implying much more with these words. He then gave Koko a glance from the side, “And Sanzu was sent on another errand.” It was enough to be clear for the long-haired man that nodded, returning his attention to the fight in front of them. All that they currently needed was one crumb of information to go further in their research on Shibata. Bonten was not one for infighting, it was a dishonor to betray the organization and lay a hand on any other member, other than a stupid drunken fight. But some made exceptions, some were allowed to ignore the rules if it meant helping the greater cause.

It was the only reason why one of Bonten’s lower-ranked members was on the floor, facial features unrecognizable from the different layers of dried blood covering his skin. The situation was something everyone in the warehouse meant to keep a secret; it was something that shouldn’t have happened, and yet did.

“Who gave you the fucking order? It’s not that fucking hard, speak up and you go free.”

“No one! I did it on my own!” And another punch, perhaps too strong this time as his head hit the ground all too forcefully, the sound dull enough to quiet everyone in the room as Ran let go of the man’s collar and stood up. He grabbed a rag Rindou handed him and dried his hands the best he could before walking up to Mikey, uncaring of the dirt and dampness on his clothes from kneeling over the man. With a deadpan expression, he met Mikey’s eyes, “He’s not talking.”

Mikey hummed, taking his phone out as he sent a quick message to Sanzu, informing him of the situation before tucking it in his pocket and meeting Ran’s eyes, “Orders are not thought, they’re given.” Mikey started, only to have Koko speak up impatiently, “This man met up with someone external to the organization, in the dead of the night, with exec-level information at his disposal that he somehow got all on his own?” He scoffed in disbelief, clicking his tongue against his teeth while huffing another laugh.

“Yeah, so if one of our guys is connected to Shibata, what’s telling us there aren’t more of them?” Rindou asked, his face full of disbelief with his brows furrowed. The man would often be perceived as the happier, more jovial brother—or at least the one people would get along with more—but those who believed it were absolute fools. He would end up being the life of the party, however he did enjoy his ‘job’, if one could call it such. He cared about two things, Bonten and his brother, meaning that if one of those was at risk he’d pour all his energy into fixing the issue. He was not one to ask for intricate details, but if someone assigned him something to do, precisely informing him of the outcome, he would do it happily. Sometimes too happily—part of him itched to fight. After all, that was what he had known most of his life, and he also believed it was a good way to get his frustration out from time to time.

He didn’t care about losing or winning, as long as what he cared for was safe.

Mikey hopped off his spot and walked to the bashed body on the ground, the man whimpering and sniffling—Mikey took his gun out and pointed it at him. “Corruption in a corrupting organization, it was only a matter of time before the dog caught its tail…” Mikey whispered before grabbing the man’s collar and lifting him off the ground while pressing the gun under his chin, “I’m nice enough to euthanize a rotten dog when I see one, tell me who gave you the order.” If death had a face, it’d be this one. The one of a man claiming mercy at a moment of weakness, the apathy in his eyes contrasting with the softness of his features as he nudged the gun further into the skin.

To the three men standing back, nothing could be heard. They watched as Mikey lifted the man, cocked the gun, and approached his head. Koko had been with Mikey for a bit longer than the Haitanis, he had seen him get his hands dirty. Even if the sight was rare to behold, he didn’t care much—however, the brothers watched like hawks, leaning in to hear anything that was being exchanged until the gunshot was heard and the body dropped dead with a hard sound from Mikey pushing it before letting go of the collar.

They both watched Mikey wipe his bloody face with the back of his hand, only spreading it more over his cheek before tossing the gun to Koko who caught it without missing a beat, “Ran, Rindou, some loyalty must be tested.”

Rindou interrupted in panic, but to others, it was simply impoliteness, “Hey Mikey, my brother and I ain’t betraying anyone, alright? So whatever that guy said, whatever test you got for us–”

With a simple look, Mikey had Rindou closing his mouth, giving him time to speak, “Sanzu will be providing you with a list of people, our people, that need their…” He smiled, a short smile, a frightening smile to encounter, “Allegiance reviewed.”

Ran scoffed, his eyes glancing at Koko who was already walking out of the warehouse. It was evident that things had been dealt with and he had places to be—Ran’s focus returned to the smaller man in the room, “Ah yeah, beating up some weak-asses to make sure they stick with us instead of whoever that traitor is. Count us in, Mikey.” He was about to pull Rindou with him on his way out, but paused and called out Mikey’s name who was walking away. The white-haired man turned around without much surprise upon being called and set his gaze on the brothers.

“You’re not gonna tell us who he snitched on, are you?” Ran asked, confident about his statement.

Mikey shook his head, “No. Someone else is in charge of that.”

The brothers both laughed and started walking, holding back from nudging their boss in some sort of pettiness upon not being the ones to deal with the traitor, “And you want your people to trust you blindly? When you don’t trust your own execs? Maybe if you–”

Rindou pushed Ran away from Mikey, telling him it wasn’t worth it—Mikey only tilted his head forward, shaking it ever so slightly, “You’re smart Ran, you should know your impulsivity is of better use elsewhere.” A short sigh escaped Mikey’s lips as he looked up and met Ran’s eyes with nothingness, no tell of a joke even as those words poured out, “A smart fighter is key to taking care of this traitor, not a reactive one.”

The purple-haired man looked over his shoulder at his brother, asking under his breath if he had just been called dumb, but Mikey did not let them speak. He only walked out, but not without reminding them, “You’ll receive a text soon. If you delegate that to your divisions make sure you trust them, you never know what’s amongst your ranks.” Soon enough, the sound of the door slamming echoed in the warehouse, leaving the two brothers inside.

Both looked at each other before looking at the body on the floor, far away from them.

Almost at the same time, they spoke, “Not it.” and started debating on who was faster, arguing about the upcoming plans for today only for Rindou to give the final defense, “It’s your mess, I ain’t your mom, take care of it yourself!” He raised his hands, smirking at his brother, proud of finding a valid argument that had Ran clenching his teeth in annoyance. He pulled out his phone and shooed the longer-haired man away as he called one of the members of his division, “Yeah, write down the address. I’ll stay ‘til you arrive so you better get here fast, I got shit to do.”

As he proceeded to spell out the address, Rindou patted his shoulder mockingly and told him he’d see him later before leaving Ran alone in the warehouse.

A while later, neither of them had yet received the information from Sanzu regarding the manhunt task Mikey had assigned to them, but the pink-haired man had been busy since the early hours of the morning on his errand. Amidst dealing with the businesses he was responsible for, he had been taking care of Shiho who had woken up ill after the night with her. He’d stayed at home in the meantime, making sure she would make it through the day. His sleep had been restless, partly due to the couch not having the same level of comfort as his own bed, and largely due to having to endure a night of Hanma’s girl screaming through nightmares. He wondered if the poor sleep right next to that woman must have led to Shiho’s overnight health decline as well. 

For now, not one of his men knew the reason for him not being on site to make himself heard, but they didn’t need to see him to fear him. They even less needed to know his girl was asleep on his lap while he told off idiots for how much they could fuck up simple orders.

His voice must have risen too much since Shiho stirred in her sleep and turned around to look at him. Before she could speak, he shushed her with a small smile, pointing at the phone. She nodded and wrapped her arms around him, listening to the voice she had grown to find so soothing.

“You find him, it’s not that hard. You find him, get the info out of him and make sure he doesn’t talk.” He stated, listening to the reply he was getting, reacting with a dry scoff, “Twelve hours, you don’t want me to visit your boyfriend, do you?” Hearing him coerce people made her feel funny. She felt some sort of pride to be on his good side, to have the honor to see him soft when he was feared and known to be one of the worst men of Bonten. 

As he hung up, he tossed the phone aside and kissed Shiho passionately, “Thought you’d died for a sec there. You just passed out after they left.” He uttered against her lips before kissing her once more, both smiling and slightly dazed. The woman hummed and threaded her fingers through his hair, “I don’t go down that easily, come on!” She chuckled, holding onto his shoulder for balance as she sat next to him, her legs now resting over his comfortably, “I was just tired, I guess tidying up a body late at night isn’t made for me.” She chuckled, adding that her friend had had nightmares during the night, which added to her restlessness.

Sanzu hummed, making Shiho grab his face towards her, “When you guys talked… did you tell Hanma to do something about her being sent on fucked up errands? I hate seeing her like that, I don’t think he realizes–”

“I did talk to him, yeah. He’s insane and says she’s fine. Can’t do much about it at this point.” He pondered, helping her legs off him as he stood up, “Don’t wanna get too involved in their shit either, I have a weird feeling about those two.” He couldn’t tell her all that he knew, he couldn’t be as honest as he wanted to be, but he could be vague and be grateful that the woman by his side trusted him enough.

Shiho took his hand and brought it to her face as he hovered over her, “Your strangely specific gut feelings?” She asked supportively. He had something he couldn’t share, she felt it, but she played along. Time would help him come out of his shell, she had seen it, she was convinced of that. All she could do until then was support him and be as open and true as she could to make him understand he could be like that with her as well.

He laughed, “Yeah, those. So be careful baby, okay?”

“I’m not the one hanging around that tall, assless asshole—you are, so you be careful!” She chuckled, wrapping her arms around him before moving her hips from left to right enthusiastically, rhythmically, happily. Sanzu wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her, “Wanna eat something, I gotta go in a few hours so I got some time before meeting Mikey.” The man was already on his way to the kitchen, halfway through putting an apron on when Shiho stopped him, a serious expression in her eyes, “I’m not—I’m not that hungry right now.” The woman tried hard to make her voice light, unbothered, but it had close to no effect on Sanzu.

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at her intently, remembering all too well what was happening and that he couldn’t stop it. It was all that fucker’s fault if everything was going to hell right now; Mikey told him everything would be fixed this time if they followed his plan and he had to fuck it all up. 

Sanzu loved deeply. It was hard to contain, it was hard not to metaphorically beat common sense into his loved ones, to have them around longer. It was even harder to lose people, over and over again. He hated that. Grief felt physically painful to him—he had gone through so many iterations of it, caused by his own hand or by happenstance. Enough times to consider it a normal occurrence in his life, something he had to wake up and go to sleep with. It was supposed to be fixed, it was supposed to stop. He should not have to go through it for the umpteenth time this time. So why was he starting to feel it again? Why was his chest heavy, his heart yearning for the lover still by his side to wake up? Why was he screaming to himself in his own head to do something, he had to do something, he should do something, he is a fixer, he is reliable. 

What was he worth if she never could truly rely on him?

His heart weighed so much even as she stood in front of him.

He felt useless yet again.

It was like trying to bring a concrete block to the surface of the water.

He was helpless.

“I’ll make your favorite, don’t tell me I bought all those strawberries for nothing?” He asked with a huge grin. Her eyes lit up and so did his heart as she pushed past him, tugging him along to get to the fridge, “I’m a little peckish at best. Who knows, some of these might get up my appetite.” She said, already bringing one of the fruits to her mouth. As she did, she held back from retching, afraid of worrying him. A grin filled with red juice spread on her lips, “Just what I needed,” She grabbed some eggs from the fridge and handed them to Sanzu, “We gotta make tons of it, I wanna give them to–”

“Hanma’s girl, yeah, I get it.” Sanzu sighed, taking the eggs and a bowl as Shiho brought him the rest of the ingredients, fighting her gag reflex as she swallowed. 

“Have you considered that I don't wanna hear about her when I’m at home chilling?” The man muttered. He knew he shouldn’t have said that, but it had slipped out. Whatever justification had to come about his distaste for the woman could not be spoken out loud, not to Shiho. And yet, she joined his side with an apron on and looked down at the counter, “She’s my friend, Haru. I want to tell you about things that we did and that she does.”

He did not wait for her to finish to interject, “And all she does is fuck shit up!” He spat, immediately whispering a ‘sorry’ under his breath as he stopped mixing the batter and looked over at Shiho with a serious expression, “I just—I don’t care about her.” He set the mixer against the bowl and reached out for Shiho’s face, his hands cradling her cheeks gently as he bumped his forehead against her, “I care about you, but she brings bad shit around.”

“We’re all in the same boat, how is she any different?” The woman did not hold onto Sanzu’s hands as she would usually do, she wanted an explanation at this very instant. He brushed her hair back, his hold on her tightening, pressing her cheeks as he kissed her forehead while a strained smile slowly grew on his face, “It doesn’t matter, it… ah, it doesn’t fucking matter because it’s–” it’s already decided. What's done is done. He’s not allowed to change anything. No matter what he so desperately wished to do right now, he would not sacrifice Mikey’s happiness and peace of mind for his own. 

Loyal to a fault.

Kind to a fault.

Selfless to a fault.

That’s what he was, that’s why he hated her. That stupid woman that got Hanma’s attention, who went and had that stupid butterfly effect on their carefully, painfully-crafted plan for the best possible outcome. She had to fuck it all up. She had to mess up his one shot at a semblance of normalcy, and he hated her for that. He couldn’t bear the sight of that woman, that wreckage of a woman that, after ruining everything for so many people, was also losing herself in the process.

He smiled.

“I don’t mind hearing about you and her, I love hearing how your day went, yeah? Just… I don’t care about Hanma and his girl.” Sanzu whispered, letting go of Shiho’s cheeks before kissing her softly, “Unless it’s important, I can do without knowing shit ‘bout their private life.”

Shiho nodded and deepened the kiss, placing her hands on his hips as she pressed him against her, “I guess there are people you just can’t stand, it’s alright. I’m just sad it’s her.” She mumbled, her hands sliding to his back as she hugged him tight, tears threatening to fall. There was something deeper to what Sanzu was saying, but he was not telling her. No matter how much she reminded herself that he would eventually come around and open up about this matter too, as he had done about so many others in the past, it was still hard to be this patient. But she would do it for him. She considered telling Sanzu to stop mentioning Mikey as a rebuttal, but she knew if Sanzu had to choose between the white-haired man and herself, she would be no match.

Then, she immediately thought that as long as she was by his side, she would be happy. He would never have to choose between Mikey and her, because no matter the choice he would make, she would stand by him. That was how inexplicably closely-bound she felt to him.

“I suppose she is reckless, it is something you don’t like much.” Shiho added as she brushed the stray tear away and huffed a laugh, “But hey!” She laughed a bit more, “We’re all still around for now, so it’s not that reckless, right?” As she grabbed the mixer and the bowl, she leaned in playfully, “Plus, remember when I told you about that one time I got into a car with a guy from the bar so he could show me around his weed farm? I’m also a bit of a reckless person, you know?” She commented.

Sanzu let out a hard laugh, short but effective, “You do have a tendency to follow druggies home, huh?” He leaned over the counter, elbows placed on it while his head rested in the palm of his hand.

“I don’t plan on doing that anymore, I think I found the right guy. Don’t know about you, but my man’s pretty cute.” She started, turning the mixer on as she mouthed to him over the sound: “Good in bed too!”

Sanzu couldn’t help but look at her with adoration.

Even if they were part of the biggest criminal organization in Japan—both labeled as criminals, both now outcasts of the society they so passionately helped grow from the shadows somehow, both pariahs for having committed crimes so unfathomable to the eyes of normal people—they were still, at the very core of their soul, human beings, human fools, that had found some serenity in all these horrors by finding each other.

By making each other smile.

A solace, some would call it. Solace in the midst of this incessant and unwavering brutality they could never run away from.

There was something uncanny about how human nature was prone to seek such peace while sowing havoc. And that almost contradiction of character would show more in some than others. 

Sanzu was selfless, but Hanma was selfish.

Even as he stood behind his girl’s chair while she talked with Mocchi about their new place, he was thinking of what he would do next to protect her. To keep her by his side. Shibata could not plant seeds of doubt in their ranks because those seeds grew so easily when being watered by fear and paranoia. He had to rely on the Haitanis to weed out those sprouts but hated doing so since it meant her safety depended on how good they would be at keeping those doubtful thoughts at bay. It depended on how good they would be at his fucking job—intimidation, taking care of renegades, that was his shit.

Being put on mole-hunting duty felt degrading to him. He wouldn’t speak it out loud, but he didn’t give a shit about the fucker that had betrayed them. No matter who they were, he wouldn’t do as Mikey said, he wouldn’t bring them to him. They had put her at risk, and after what happened, he didn’t care about Mikey’s plans for the future. He never did, but even less now, with his girl’s life at stake.

“Yeah, sure, you want something you like, but how many rooms? Where do you want–” Mocchi was starting to get annoyed at how vaguely Hanma’s girl was explaining what she wanted. Hanma reached for the file on Mocchi’s desk and handed it to the woman sitting down, “Give her a catalog of whatever’s available, she doesn't have any expectations—see, that’s all she needed.” He brought their attention to her as she happily looked through it.

From his spot, he saw a figure outside that immediately disappeared, which alerted him. That’s all he needed to have his interest piqued as he patted his girl’s shoulder and addressed everyone, “Be back in a bit, gotta deal with something.” He looked at Kakucho who stood in the corner on a seat, busying himself but aware enough to look up from his phone and meet Hanma’s eyes. The latter did not need to say that he should keep her safe, they knew that while Hanma was responsible for her, all were aware of the target that seemed to be on her head.

Grabbing his coat by the door, the man left the building with a determined stride as he took in every detail of his surroundings. Sometimes he wondered why sellouts were so bad at spying, there was nothing discreet about wearing all-black and a cap—it seemed to be their go-to attire. He thought movies had used the concept enough times to make people use their common sense and not wear that, but clearly common sense was not as common as the name led to believe.

After the countless times he was sent on errands, years after years, he had learned the layout of the town. He knew each nook, each turn, each shady street and dead-end; and having followed people around for even longer, he could guess where they would run out of their first instinct. His walk was inconspicuous, the only thing that made people look at him was his height, and perhaps at times his tattoos, but considering his hands were currently shoved in his pocket, there wasn’t much for people to gawk at. His long legs meant he was fast, faster than the fucker that he could now see from afar as he looked over his shoulder, noticing him.

A satisfied smile made its way onto his lips as he grabbed his phone and quickly texted Kakucho; not that he had saved his number under any name—he simply recognized the recent text conversation.

It read, ‘found a shitbata rat, take her home when she picked what she wants’

He didn’t care for an answer, none of them would let her go home alone—out of politeness or chivalry, whichever it was he could count on it to drive them to take responsibility for his girl while he was gone.

The smile on his face couldn’t falter as excitement filled his being; this one wasn’t dead like the previous one, he was going to have a blast. Quickly, he took a turn before the idiot did and made sure to take a dark street that was not frequented, one that, while having two entries, led to a dead-end. With faster steps, Hanma stopped right where the light shone like a spotlight from the main street and hid behind the wall, waiting patiently for the man to walk in.

It took all but one minute for the rabid beast to fall into his trap, phone in hand as he panically spoke, “The gigantic one!” he waited, “I don’t know! Fuck, fuck, I messed up, he’s onto me, I–” Another pause while the person on the other end spoke. It was embarrassing to break down at such a small thing. Hanma had no idea if this guy was another fucker that turned his back on Bonten or if it was a born-and-bred Shibata, but he was weak for sure. The worse was perhaps how inattentive the man was to not have noticed Hanma waiting by to see what else was going to be said.

“Yeah, I think I lost him for now…” He nodded, humming in understanding which Hanma found a bit funny since the other fucker on the phone couldn’t see him. His eyes did not leave the man as he paced, kicking at some trash on the ground. It was only a matter of seconds before his feet led to Hanma. The latter pondered in a split second if he should retreat a bit and wait for more information, but instead he stood his ground until the spy’s eyes set on Hanma’s shoes, slowly following the source and meeting his playful gaze.

Hanma brought a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, but he could see the man was going to scream anyway. He quickly covered his mouth and pressed the idiot’s back against his chest as he held him there, using his free hand to grab the phone himself. 

Bringing it to his ear, he waited for a voice on the other end but it seemed that person was also waiting—Hanma spoke first, “Well, isn’t this awkward… tell you what! Tell me a story and keep me entertained for 2 minutes and I won’t kill your guy.”

The call ended.

Hanma shoved the phone in his pocket; he would decide its fate later on, right now he had to deal with this softie. “Clearly whoever that was didn’t think you mattered enough—are you for real crying, kid?” The one in control rolled his eyes and pressed his hand further on the man’s mouth, “Scream and people come in, come in and they’ll find a dead body.” He felt the fool’s body tense under him and patted his cheek mockingly, “So!” He pushed him off, making him fall to his knees, “Wanna play Guess Who?”

The man on the floor started stuttering, struggling so much it was painful to watch when knowing he was supposedly part of an organization that was giving Bonten so much trouble. Hanma leaned on the wall, waiting for the words to finally leave the man’s mouth without a struggle—with how long it was taking, Hanma took the initiative and said, “I take it as a yes, you don’t got much choice anyway.” He shrugged.

“Alright, is it a man?”

The man on the floor looked at Hanma intently to make it seem like he’d been staring from the very beginning, to stop his eyes from fleeting—or to make him believe they never did so in the first place. Hanma smiled, already satisfied.

“Feels like it could be an exec,” Hanma started, pondering out loud rather than asking the wriggling fool on the floor. He then turned his face rapidly and looked at him, “But then again! None of ‘em would have been stupid enough to get caught.” He stepped closer to the mouse caught in a trap and grabbed his ankle, dragging him out of the daylight in case he ever considered leaving, should his mind felt this spur of temerity.

It wasn’t hard for the tallest man to ignore the pleas of despair from the worm he held, who wouldn’t beg death to let them go just this one time? Once he dropped his foot, Hanma sighed, “We’ll go step by step then, is it first division?”

The man’s eyes widened, he shook his head, “No no, it’s the fourth division, it’s–”

“You didn’t tell me shit up until now, why would I trust you?” He clicked his tongue and kicked the man in the chest, making him hit the floor with a rough thud, “First division, huh. Who would have thought…” He pointed his thumb towards his chest, “I would have thought, that fucker’s been sus as hell for months now.”

“I—I don’t know who you’re talking about!”

Hanma’s hand gripped the weaker man’s jaw with enough force to hear a slight crack, effortlessly shutting him up, “Shhh. I wasn’t fucking done.” The nod in his hand made him understand he could continue, he then pushed his head away, this time making it hit the hard floor. The man was now knocked out, he probably had a concussion too, and Hanma was too lost in his own thoughts, planning on how to deal with the matter.

Giving the passed out body a disgusted glance, Hanma brought a cigarette to his lips, lighting it casually, “Ya can never trust anyone, look away for just seconds and you’re missing so much—so make ‘em captain of a division and ah!” He puffed the smoke, pointing at the guy on the floor, “They make people die for them!” He shook his head in disbelief, taking a long drag and keeping the smoke in as he added, smiling all too knowingly, “Not like it’s a surprise, but you know, I always thought the man was too nice for his own good—if we ignore that one time…”

The smoke rose into the air as Hanma puffed once more before dropping the cigarette on the man’s shirt and stepping on it to crush it, getting no reaction from the sellout that laid on the ground, “Man always had one foot in—the other was with the cops, but it looks like the bad guys are much more efficient than whatever pig was on his side.” 

For a moment, Hanma had to consider his next move. He could let him go, let him run back to his little master—after all, it wouldn’t change shit since he’d had someone on the phone listening when he was captured. Fucker knew Bonten was on his trail, but did he also know they knew exactly who he was? Pulling the weasel’s phone out, Hanma scoffed at the burner phone but looked through the contacts only to find one number saved with no name. There was no need to call it back, it was probably from another burner phone. Any tracks he might have to find that bastard would be pointless right now. 

Smashing it on the ground, he hit it hard with his heel and knelt by the man, holding the side of his face for a moment, “We can’t have you tattle tale now, can we?”

Crack.

“Now this is going to be a fucking pain to deal with.” He sighed, rolling up his sleeves as he grabbed a full trash bag from a nearby bin and emptied its contents on the floor, then a second one. It was not an easy play to shove a grown body in a bag not made for that capacity, but Hanma found a certain talent in himself for doing so. He added another bag around it and started shoving some trash back inside so that for the average eye, it would still look like simple garbage thrown away. It took a bit of time cracking bones and bending a human body unnaturally, but once he was done, he took hold of some additional bags before breathing out and lifting them from the ground—the struggle laid in not losing balance with the weight of a dead body on one side and household trash on the other.

He also needed to look as natural as possible so that no one would not look twice his way, believing he’s just taking out some trash. Luck was on his side considering he did not have to follow the man too far from where he’d parked; all Hanma had to do was walk about five minutes before reaching his car and dropping the body in the trunk. As he did so, avoiding bumping into people on his way there, he made a mental note to search the body for any ID or car keys. He couldn’t just leave the man’s car parked down the road for too long or people would get suspicious, which ultimately would lead to them realizing this man was gone.

With a deep sigh, Hanma shut the trunk closed and shoved his keys in his pockets before getting back inside—it had taken a lot less time than he’d planned, but he hoped his girl would have chosen a place by now. As he was about to enter, he heard them talking loudly, with Kakucho saying, “It doesn’t matter, he’ll be back in a few, just stay here and–” A slam on the door surprised Hanma but he did not intervene, he had guessed it was Kakucho blocking the way so he chuckled to himself and waited.

“I just need to pee, it’s not that deep. Let me out, don’t tell me you don’t have toilets.” She was interrupted by Kakucho laughing loudly as he locked the door and probably took the key from it, by the sound Hanma heard.

“To be honest, I have no fucking clue what’s going on in your head, so I’d rather keep you here until he comes back than have you running around playing gangster and fucking shit up.” Kakucho explained as a matter of fact before adding, “You know?”

Even though Hanma didn’t like most of them all that much, Kakucho was one of the pretty bearable ones, and he even managed to make him laugh as he heard his girl huff.

“He does whatever he wants, Kakucho. He’ll come back whenever, I’m not about to follow him and mess shit up, okay? So get out of the way, please.” She tried to push him, to get him to budge, but he did not—instead, he stood his ground and gripped her hand with force, clicking his tongue with a shake of his head. “Okay? Then piss yourself?”

For some reason, Hanma felt a tinge of annoyance when he heard her burst out in laughter.

Shaking her head, she stopped insisting on leaving and rolled her eyes with a smile before slumping on the couch, “Don’t push your kinks on people like that Kakucho, it’s a bit…” she made a face, followed by another laugh as she crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

“I don’t have a piss kink, I just have other shit to do than having Hanma up my ass cause I let his dog roam free.” He rolled his eyes and left the door to lean on the desk where Mocchi was preparing the red tape for the house she had chosen. Both Kakucho and the woman stared at one another in silence, both with a straight face until Kakucho started smiling in disbelief, “Your ass grew bold, you wouldn’t have dared to look at any of us like that before.”

She raised a brow, “Like what? I’m just staring, waiting for permission to go pee. I want my sticker for good behavior.” She said with a dry smile as she rested her elbows on her knees, debating whether she should text Hanma out of boredom or keep staring at Kakucho. The latter was much more interesting as he looked away and huffed, “You’re fucking weird.”

Before she could add something, Hanma knocked on the door and jokingly said from the other side, “One of us took this more seriously than necessary. Unlock the door, Kaku, it’s super sus that you locked that shit.”

Seconds later the key was in the lock, twisting audibly as the door opened and Hanma stepped in—he made sure to look down at Kakucho with a weirded out expression, “This ain’t free use, you better not have touched her.” He whispered, making the scarred man return the half-weirded, half-surprised expression, maybe with a sprinkle of disgust, “You’re welcome.”

He turned around and went back to his seat to let Mocchi take care of them. The woman on the couch stayed there as Hanma walked up to her, his hands reaching for her face as he tilted her head back, “Did you give him a hard time?”

Her smile was tender as she met his eyes, her words barely a whisper, “I wouldn’t dare, I told you I’d behave, right?” His eyes seemed to soften for a moment after hearing her words, then he smirked and hummed, thinking he couldn’t keep her locked up for too long. Keeping her in a cage, it would only have her go feral the few times she’d be out of it—so he grinned mischievously, “Ya can give him a hard time you know, man can’t just have an easy life.” Then he pecked her lips and went to check the papers Mocchi was preparing, taking a look at the place she had chosen. Looking through those that were already signed and completed, he read through everything rapidly, more out of boredom than anything, then he put them back on the desk and asked Mocchi, “We can move in today, yeah?”

Mocchi sighed in frustration, “Well, yes, but she took the one with the most paperwork and I don’t know if it’ll be processed fast enough.”

“Whatever needs to be done, do it. Where do I get the key? Just give me the address and we’re out.” As Mocchi looked through his drawers for the key of this specific house, the woman stood up and looked over Hanma’s shoulders, her hands on them to help her balance on her toes, “Thank you Mocchi, sorry for the rush.”

Mocchi mumbled something inaudible, rummaging through the drawer before handing Hanma the keys and still with annoyance, met the woman’s gaze, “Don’t get followed home this time.”

Her eyes filled with disbelief and anger as her hands gripped Hanma tighter just before letting go, “Excuse me? Now I’m to blame for an entire gang trying to take over Bonten?” She spoke too rapidly to be considered reasonable or sensible, it took a short time for Hanma to debate whether he should intervene or not.

He decided to step back and watch.

“Be fucking real with me, Mocchi,” She started, forcing his chair to turn around, “Speak up! Tell me what you think!” She then crossed her arms over her chest and smiled, a tight smile that displayed her seething anger. It made Hanma happy to see her something other than distraught for a moment. “Since everyone seems to be so opinionated on the matter, I am more than interested in hearing what important take you have on something you haven’t dabbled one fucking second in.” Her heart was beating fast as she remembered the encounter she’d had, having constant reminders of being followed over and over again, only to be called insane and paranoid. She was convinced others had gone through worse, but not him. Not the man seated in front of her, and yet he dared speak from a place of comfort about her misfortune? Oh, the privilege that a man basks in by being confident in whatever shit spewed from his mouth.

He scoffed but did not dare stand up, “I’m saying a good studio got ruined just cause you were dumb enough to get followed!” It did not have the effect intended. It did not rally the two others by his side, he did not receive any answer from the woman who now seemed to be dissociating right in front of him, her eyes wide open as if she had seen the most atrocious thing in the world and yet full of emptiness. Mocchi cleared his throat; a few moments after, the woman’s gaze finally met his own, and she smiled before lurching at him.

It took but a second for Hanma to pull her back, his arm wrapped around her waist as he only tugged enough to have her tumble slightly. Her face turned to him in anger at first, pissed off that he had interrupted her, then realization hit and her eyes widened, fear flooding them. Hanma barely met her gaze as he pushed her behind him and snatched the key from Mocchi’s hands, “That one’s deserved, nobody’s sorry ‘bout your face.” Hanma commented off-handedly.

Kakucho seemed to agree, “Bit of a low blow Mocchi, tell your wife she’s to blame for getting mugged while you’re at it!” That struck a chord with the larger man as he looked at Kakucho with mouth agape, now stuttering and struggling to find words to defend himself. His cheeks were starting to tint a darker shade from embarrassment, but no one truly paid attention. The woman responsible for the pain he now felt in his face straightened her back and composed herself. She had promised herself to never lose it in front of Hanma ever again, this was her last slip up. “I could tell you I’m sorry, but you deserved to have some sense beat into you.” She spat, turning around and making her way out of the office.

Right before stepping out, she looked over her shoulder, “Thank you both for your help!” she said almost sweetly. Kakucho let out a chuckle at her tone, aware of the fuming Mocchi next to him. The former man did not mind the woman that much, he had seen her descent into the person she was now, he knew there wasn’t much helping her state without getting on Hanma’s bad side. And seeing how enthralled she was with him, he couldn’t bring her back to reality; whatever happened next, no one but Hanma was to blame, Kakucho knew that.

“If you need help moving stuff in, I think the business provides that service.” Kakucho started, only to get shoved aside by Mocchi who stood up from his chair and stomped towards the door, still annoyed as he lifted his chin, “Don’t mention my wife again, get it?” He gritted through his teeth, it made the woman laugh to see him trying to be intimidating while being in the wrong.

Giving him a condescending smile, she leaned forward, “Would you like an apology?”

“Yes.”

She cut him off proudly, filled with arrogance and bitterness, “Because you won’t get one. Respect’s mutual, I don’t owe you shit if you treat me like shit, get it?” If one had paid attention, one would have heard the small hum of satisfaction that had built up in Hanma’s throat—but all that one could see was the small rictus on his lips as he held back from praising her. Even with the slip-up that happened moments ago, her effort of remaining calm was commendable, and he would make sure to tell her so in his own way once they were alone.

Without giving them a proper answer, Mocchi shoved them out and slammed the door behind the pair of outcasts.

As they stood outside, a short silence settled only for it to be broken by Hanma, “I’d have punched him too, his ugly ass stepped outta line.” he said. As if she had been holding her breath, the woman sighed in relief and gave him a smile, “I’ll keep myself in check still, but there might be a reason why his wife’s leaving him,” She started, walking ahead of Hanma, turning around slightly as she added, “You know, with him being a dick and whatnot. Pretty sure he’s the type of guy that would tell his wife to go get changed cause she’d dressed too hot for him.” It made Hanma chuckle.

The tall man changed topic radically as he tossed her the key, “You better have picked something easy to take care of cause the bigger the place, the bigger are the odds you’ll end up doing that shit on your own. I don’t got time for chores and tidying up around.” He explained, walking past her this time as he opened the door and let her catch up to him. She slammed her hand on the door as it started closing once Hanma let go. Huffing and puffing, the woman joined him in the car that was parked not too far.

There was this strange feeling in her guts once she was inside, as if they weren’t alone. Aside from her constant company, she felt strange—so she faced Hanma while buckling her seatbelt, “Something’s off.” Now on high alert, she was looking around, fighting hard not to panic.

Hanma shrugged and started the car, “Could be the dead body in the trunk. Could be a Shibata spying your every move. Could be anything, really.” There was a time when the woman would have been repulsed by the words uttered by the man, she would have gasped and panicked even, but now? Now she looked at him with wide eyes, debating with her inner thoughts whether she should praise whatever he had done, or play the card of shock. She couldn’t stress over such silly things anymore, he knew what he was doing, she had to trust that. 

So she smiled in disbelief, “Body?” The woman inquired, her eyes darting to the back of the car, not that anything could be seen in the trunk from their seat. Humming, Hanma tapped his fingers on the wheel as he sped up on the road, a sort of satisfied smile on his lips, “Debated for a bit if he should live or not, caught him on call with the mole, but ya know. He didn’t reply when I grabbed the phone.”

The woman scoffed slightly, “Obviously. So what’s the next step?”

“Next step’s getting some dirt on the bastard—before you ask: no, I won’t tell you who it is.” He tilted his head to the side, grinning at the woman teasingly as she rolled her eyes and focused her gaze on the road, telling him she wouldn’t go after the traitor herself. It made Hanma laugh as he gripped her thigh tightly, his nails digging into her skin enough to make her hiss in pain, “Yeah, cause it ain’t your problem, you got Shitbata duty.” He then dropped his tone, adding in a more serious voice, “Less risk of you going batshit.”

With a dramatically loud sigh, he let the back of his head hit the seat, “I’d even tell you to focus on getting a pretty ‘fit for Koko’s stupid gala, but you know.”

“Yes. You know too, I’m not staying benched like a porcelain doll.” She needed to actively participate in annihilating Shibata—they had made her feel unsafe in her own place, in the streets even by Hanma’s side, and now they had made her feel crazier than necessary with everyone thinking she was paranoid.

They tried to take down the weakest link, her. Just like Bonten was planning on doing by taking down Shibata’s leader’s girlfriend, Masami—to some extent, it made the woman seated in the car laugh, which brought Hanma’s attention back to her. “What’s funny?” He asked, one brow raised in confusion as he pulled down a street.

The woman shook her head dismissively, the action itself ticked off Hanma but he didn’t mention anything yet, he waited for her to speak. “Isn’t it funny we’re following their pattern?” She asked, amazed by the conclusion she had come to.

“Pattern?”

“Yeah, they tried to take care of me first. The crazy pariah, you know? And we’re doing the same, we’re taking down Masami to begin with.” With a soft hum, she weighed her words carefully. Just from Hanma’s face, she knew she was going down the wrong path with her words, yet she continued, now self-conscious, “Except they didn’t take in consideration that I wouldn’t go down that easily and that I’m—not to sound unhinged or anything—but, like, killing me won’t do shit to Bonten, you know?” That’s when Hanma parked in front of their new place, confusion painted all over his face as he looked at her with a hint of disbelief.

Quickly, the woman added, “What if I die, right? Maybe you’ll get a bit sad, but the rest? They won’t care for shit. Which is fair enough, they hate me.”

Whatever she added would be of no value to Hanma, he had heard enough and he needed to show her that this way of thinking was stupid to say the least. Getting out of the car, he forced her out of it too and pulled her to the door, ignoring whatever she was saying in confusion and annoyance of him not letting her go. Once he had locked the door behind them, he led her to the kitchen and helped her on the large island before wrapping her legs around his waist and forcing her to lay on the counter.

“What the fuck is going on, Shuji?” She scoffed, clearly not understanding why he was acting like that. When his hand found its way around her neck she gasped and as the pressure grew, the air in her lungs slowly depleting, her eyes started to water. It was so beautiful to see her weak under him, seeing her struggle, gasping for air with her hands around his arm. It only made her more alive.

“There we go,” He breathed out, his face close to hers while a smirk drew itself on his lips, “Your pity party was missing something—tears add something to it, doesn’t it?” Hanma’s thumb slowly tilted her face back, but his hand never let go of her neck. The gesture had long since lost the meaning of a threat and had taken the name of intimacy. 

Slowly, he slid his free hand under her shirt and felt the texture of the lingerie, making him sigh in satisfaction while raking his nails against it. She tried to gulp but with the hold on her throat, all but a strangled sound escaped her lips while her eyes bore intensely into Hanma’s—they were not screaming for help, she was not afraid, but she was confused, hoping her nails digging in his skin would somehow make him understand her thoughts. 

Reaching inside his pocket, Hanma pulled out a switchblade and used it to pop the buttons from her shirt, exposing her undergarment, “Thought we had an understanding or something, after last meeting.” Gently, he moved the knife on her stomach, the tip threatening to pierce her skin as it already did the fabric, “So tell me,” He slit the garment, angling the blade like he was peeling something as he ripped at the lower part. The sound of tearing clothing made the woman gasp audibly, at least for the little air she could get from it, “Why do you have the audacity to be self-pitying around me?” He gritted through his teeth.

She shook her head, finally managing to get his hand away from her throat—it was no grand feat considering Hanma had let go, but he loved seeing this pride on her face as she pried his hand away. “What self-pitying? It’s a fact!” She spat, making Hanma’s brows furrow in fake-sorrow, as if her words were hard to hear, but if anything they pissed him off. To assume he’d be slightly sad when she was gone, it made him laugh. And to think it wouldn’t affect Bonten? He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at how convenient this little speech of hers was at this very instance. How embarrassed she would feel to speak those words out loud if she knew what she had gotten herself into—what he had gotten them all into.

She was starting to get pissed off, this time her hand reached for the back of his head as she pulled him closer, “Why the fuck are you laughing? Tell me it would do shit to them! I don’t care if it doesn’t, it’s just–”

Eyes wide. A smile she had seen countless times, the one of a maniac, the one she had seemed to grow fond of as she kept ending up face to face with it. Hanma’s nose was against hers as he stated in a sing-song voice, “If you go down, Bonten goes down.” It made her eyes widen in shock and her grip slack, her hands found their way to his shoulders. Whatever annoyance she had moments ago had been replaced by this fast beating of her heart, this warmth filling her entire body that made her face heat up.

“You don’t realize it all relies on my silence?” He hummed melodiously, unzipping his pants before taking his shirt off and helping her arms inside it so he could lock them above her head. He smiled, “Imagine this. You died because they failed to take down a bunch of kids, yeah?” He paused and roughly took all that was in his way before wrapping her legs back around his waist, “The sole outcome is me ruining all they ever worked for. All they ever wanted would be gone by my fucking hands.” 

There was something in the matter-of-fact tone he had been so keen on using that had her all aflutter. The confidence in his words and actions as spread her lower lips and started playing with her clit had her staying silent while he continued his speech, now leaning fully over her as his hands had their own will, “Wah-fucking-wah, no one will mourn me when I’m dead.” He mocked her, grabbing her jaw with force and making her look him in the eyes, “Then try harder to make your life meaningful, yeah?” 

Her confused expression had shifted to one of submission, with glazed eyes and a lazy smile she nodded. She found some comfort in his words, it was odd; with the roughness of his touch and seemingly harsh way to put things, there was still some tenderness to it all. His love language was so different from the ones many would have encountered, but she’d grown accustomed to it, she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Yet her eyes faltered to the side for a second before looking back at him, whatever devotion her gaze carried now mixed with doubt. “It isn’t like you to give life lessons, Shu.” She whispered, unhooking his hand from her jaw to slide two fingers in her mouth as she licked them; she then pulled them out and smirked, “Why don’t you make me forget my stupid thoughts, hm?” 

If part of her enjoyed his words, that part was disappearing. She couldn’t lean into that side of herself. Rai was a reminder that looking back would only make her weak, that’s why she ignored her from the corner of her eyes. The woman knew she could rely on Hanma to make her head go empty, even for just a few fleeting moments. She was convinced that by staying by his side, she would disappear.

Was she Rai? Or was it her past self? The self that no one wanted to see, the one that was distraught, the one fighting the upper hand only to lose each and every damn time.

It didn’t matter.

“Life lessons?” He scoffed, helping her legs on his shoulders as he nodded for her to hold onto the side of the counter above her head, “I’m making sure my investment doesn’t kill herself—it’d be a shame to see such a pretty face go to waste.” He made sure to punctuate his final word by shoving himself inside her, making her grip tighten. Her back on the hard surface made the position all the more painful, but she didn’t want it to stop. “Ending up as—as a, ah—trophy wife isn’t…” Her sentence was interrupted by a guttural moan that tore from her throat, her back arching into him for more, “It’s not—what I thought I’d—end up as.” She finished, jokingly. 

Hanma’s eyes that had been focused on her body up until now slowly left to meet her eyes with mischief, “Aren’t ya talkative? Maybe I’m not hitting hard enough.” With that, he started fucking her like she wanted it, feeling him deep inside her so much it hurt. Each thrust made her groan louder and louder, her arms starting to feel numb from the dreadful angle they were in, but she wasn’t letting go. Instead, she tried to meet his thrusts halfway, only to have Hanma press her hips into he counter hard, a scream of pain resonating, “There, there, right now you’re my fuck doll, what’re you doing being proactive and shit?”

Through elation and sounds of pleasure, she started breathing heavily—it was hard to find the words, but with enough effort, she managed to utter, “Necro’s a new one—Shu, didn’t know you were—into that shit.” It earned her a genuine laugh from Hanma as the speed of his thrusts fastened, his grip on her hips harder to handle which only made her smile through the pain. “Pity party’s over clearly.” He said breathlessly, his hand ripping the shirt from her arms as he bundled it up and shoved it in her mouth. The extra fabric covered her eyes, but she never let go of the counter. She only laughed.

“Can’t have you mentionin’ necro again, that was fucking weird.” With her fully exposed like that, he felt himself get closer—and from the way her hands let go of the counter to reach for him only to be pushed away, he could have guessed she was getting close. Quickly, he pried her legs apart and turned her around, fucking her from behind as hard as he could. She was whining under him, whimpering at her hip bone pressing against the counter and at the constant ramming of his hips against her ass. The angle had her seeing white, her face now laying on the surface that had long since warmed up from her body.

Suddenly Hanma’s rapid thrusts came to a stop, his motion stuttering before he pulled out and came all over her back. His hand didn’t stop, he kept playing with her clit as he spoke through his pleasure with a laugh, “Shit, I like that idea of baptizing the room, it makes it really a lot more…”

“Like home.” The woman breathed out in daze once she had tossed the shirt out of her mouth, now weakly trying to turn around. Hanma helped her and let her wrap her legs around him once more, her arms now draped over his shoulders as she rested her forehead against his. He did not mimic her gesture, his hands remaining on the counter by her thighs. “To be honest, anything will do as long as they don’t know we’re here, you know?”

“With the price I paid for this shit I ain’t leaving if they find it again.” Hanma scoffed, his eyes darting to the window upon seeing something out there. That relief of being somewhere safe was only fleeting, for him at least—but as long as those assholes didn’t act on their spying yet, he could keep it from her. He could let her bask in this safety, because he would make it safe, no matter what.

The woman hummed and leaned back while still holding onto him, “Alright.” She paused, thinking for a moment, “But you know Shu, the other rooms are not very welcoming…” Her hands moved from his shoulders down his arms before gently wrapping around his waist, her lips pressing on his collarbone softly, “We gotta cleanse all that bad energy, don’t you think?” She said jokingly.

Hanma let his head fall back, he grunted loudly then gripped her hair, forcing her away from him before kissing her with force, “Let me smoke one, give me five minutes and I’ll fuck you against the main window.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t say that, I meant like the couch or–”

He interrupted her like she did him, “So no window?”

She remained silent and let go of him before covering herself and looking to the side, “Yes window.”

Hanma already had a cigarette between his lips when he smiled at her, he took a few steps back towards the garden and puffed out the moment he opened the window, “That’s what I thought.”

Now apart, each had their own thoughts to face.

How long could he keep it from her that they were being watched? He would enjoy fucking her in front of them, clearly they would not do shit right now or they would have shot him through that window a while ago. So what was stopping them? Hanma needed to get him to admit what he had leaked to Shibata—he needed to know everything to have a good enough reason to kill him in the name of Bonten.

Bonten, the organization that made her feel like shit. Even with him by her side she saw Rai, would nothing cut it now? Would she ever be alone? She needed to find a way to keep her away, anything as long as it would do the trick. She would rather stay away from drugs knowing how badly it could all end up, but what else could she do?

She needed to find out what Rai's pattern was, when she was alone? No, not anymore. Vulnerable? No, it wasn’t it, she needed to uncover that.

And Hanma needed to take care of Shibata before it repeated itself. He knew what to do to avoid it—he had convinced himself he knew, at the very least. 

It would all work out.

[Part 5]

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 2

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 11 280

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Sexual Content // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Corruption // Mindbreak // Sex // Blood and Injury // Unprotected Sex // Cum play

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Someone had broken in and was standing in the darkness of my living room. As stupid as it was, I smiled to myself, my heart racing from the adrenaline. From this all-too-familiar sensation of already knowing something was about to go down.

I had no idea why I was feeling this excited for it, but I made sure to tighten my bathrobe and gestured with my chin towards the shadow, “I don’t care who you are or what you want, get out.” Because being diplomatic meant giving them a chance, it meant being the bigger person.

“No, thank you.” The voice answered. 

That short reply was enough to fuel something in me that I tried hard to bury, so I repeated my offer, “Get. Out.”

This time they laughed, slumping on the armchair with a huff and too much ease, “Are you deaf, bitch? I said: no.” The reiteration was spoken in a lighter, more mocking tone. Leaning off the wall, I hummed and left the corridor that led to the open living room, stepping inside it delicately as I chuckled. This confidence of mine could be my end, but from the short assessment I had made, I could take them on, right?

You know jack shit about their physique, how the fuck would you know?

It’s my house, I have the advantage, I whispered before looking up and staring at where the form was, “You’re discrete, I’ll grant you that.”

“Oh nah, you’re just completely unaware and stupid. I made so much noise, it’s definitely on you.”

Without letting them continue, I gave a tight smile and breathed out through my teeth, “Fair is fair.” It’s not like I wasn’t used to being disrespected, but I was willing to accept it from the executives.

Lies. You’re lying to yourself. You hate it.

But this? From a complete stranger? A random member of Shibata? I let out a short laugh, “See, I’m frustrated–”

Once more, I was interrupted, “And I didn’t ask?” Another proof of disrespect, probably the last one that I could take tonight. And if that bastard thought I would just take it like a champ, then surprise would be that last thing they’d feel tonight.

Letting my head drop forward, I shrugged, “Alright then.” I looked up and bolted towards the intruder; whoever they were, I didn’t care because I was convinced it was a Shibata member and I needed them out of my place. Jumping over the couch, I was going to land right on top of the intruder when I was pushed away with force. From the little my hand touched them, I knew it was a man, but not as bulky as I’d expected—which only increased my odds of being able to take him down. Tumbling to the floor, I felt the foot of the lamp digging inside my back, hurting me and making me understand the weapon I had on hand.

With one sharp tug, I unplugged the lamp and twisted the cable around my hand before pulling once again to detach it from the metal. Looking up at the man, I threw the lamp his way; he dodged it barely, still getting hit by the heavy foot of it. “Are you insane? That’s fucking foul play!”

“Foul play?! You broke into my house!” I got to my feet and tried to use the cable like a whip to hit him, but he grabbed the end of it, while the other part remained wrapped around my hand. He pulled with force and as he did that, I attempted to hit him. He bent to avoid it and I quickly jumped on his back, grabbing the cable part he held so he wouldn’t let go as I wrapped it around his throat and tightened, “Piece of shit.” I spat, my own voice strained from all the strength I was putting trying to stay on his back. I hadn’t noticed he had managed to sneak his fingers in between the cable and his throat, which gave him the lever he needed to pull the wire and lift it above his head, making me fall on the ground.

He immediately straddled my lap and snatched the cable from my hands, wrapping it tightly around my wrists as he struggled to catch his breath, “You’re not as great at this as you think you are.”

I couldn’t help but let out a labored scoff, “Greatness isn’t what I’m looking for right now.” As much as I tried to keep the conversation going, to keep it lighthearted as if I had the upper hand, I started losing the sensation in my extremities. The man on top of me held my bound hands to my chest and leaned over. Before he could speak, I grinned, “Are we gonna kiss?” I whispered mockingly, “Cause I’m taken, I don’t think he’d like it.”

Blood.

I spat blood after he punched me with brute force and pressed the side of my head to the floor, “You’re insane.” He stated, helping me stand up as he did himself, the pull on my wrists making me believe for a few seconds that they would snap off if he kept at it any longer from how tight it was—but I grinned at him and quipped, “Now, that’s what I’m going for!” Just like that, I held the little I could reach of his forearms and put my entire weight on him as I balled up while holding on to him. He was fast to fall forward onto me, letting go of my hands at the same time.

Rolling away from him immediately, I used my teeth to undo the knot of the cable and freed my hands, clenching them repeatedly to get the blood flowing again.

The man slowly stood up, looking at me in disbelief, or was it disappointment?

Everyone is always disappointed.

I can’t satisfy anyone.

I smiled to myself.

“I’ve never really been one to live up to expectations, you know,” I slowly started, “but if I can make you happy and be fucking crazy then…” Looking to the side, I felt this electricity-like pulse inside me that sent me reeling. I lunged towards that fine item I knew would be just right to hurt him enough that he would be out cold, even for a bit. Or at least enough for me to truly get the upper hand. Once I had it in my hand, I faced the man and grinned with my tongue between my teeth, “Might as well!” And with that, my hand far above my head as it held the encased golf ball I’d got as a gift from Hanma, I sped to the man and smashed it in the side of his skull. The sharpness of the corners and the texture of the item gave the action its authenticity—the thudding sound from how full the encasing was and the constant splashing sound caused by the skin, split due to how knife-like the box felt.

It was swift, but oh so satisfying to have done it. 

The man was loud to grunt at the pain. After a moment, his hand flew to his head, his eyes wide in horror as they closed slowly with each blink, his balance failing him when his legs finally gave up and I watched his body fall back. Tossing the item on his chest, I stepped back and knelt beside him, grabbing his chin to make him face me, “Get out now. You lost.”

His eyes didn’t meet mine.

I huffed a laugh, “Don’t play dead, that couldn’t have killed you.” 

Are you trying to convince yourself?

“He isn’t dead, he is trying to get me—actually, I should step away.” I stated, not even trying to find where Rai was right now. I did not follow my own words, instead, my knees fell properly to the ground as I leaned over his body at a better angle, to wave my hand in front of his eyes, “Hey! Get the fuck up and leave!” The words ripped from my throat.

Look closer.

I didn’t face her, but I let my eyes wander from his face and noticed how bloody his face was. How his skull was just not…

“Who—who did this?” I whispered. 

“What happened to his head?!” I quickly grabbed the back of his head and helped him sit, he was heavy, too heavy. I struggled and my hands were dripping with blood. But not just blood. There was something sticky with it, something I had never felt before. I knew I shouldn’t have glanced, but slowly, I brought my hand closer to my face and took a closer look to what was falling out the back of his head. My eyes widened in horror as I dropped him entirely on the ground and struggled to get to my feet, wiping my hands on my clothes as I stepped back further and further away from him.

Looking down at my hands, they were shaking—I was shaking, the whole world around me was shaking, something was happening but I didn’t know what. I couldn’t stay put. I couldn’t stand up. When I started losing my balance, I gripped the counter in the kitchen and covered my mouth to attempt to calm my breathing, the sole action worsening my state when I inhaled the stench that stained my hand.

Closing my eyes for a second, I felt my stomach churn and tilted my head back to avoid letting it all out. This was disgusting, this was worse than anything I had ever done. Had I done this? I don’t recall doing it, I barely recalled arriving in the living room and seeing the shadow. Now here I was with his brain matter on my hands.

I gagged at the thought of that word.

Brain matter.

Act fast now, don’t you see it?

I looked up suddenly, trying to find what she meant by that and panickedly glanced around, my breath nowhere near regaining a normal pace. Holding tight on the handles of the cupboard, I helped myself up and dawdled around the room to find what she’d meant—I made sure to avoid seeing the body, but some part of me had to look.

Dead fish.

Forcing my head away, I suddenly saw what Rai had meant. Slowly, my eyes looked up at my forehead in the reflection of the window and saw a little red light. I immediately fell to the ground and rolled behind the couch, “Shit shit shit, what kind of shit is that?!”

Deaf gunshot. Almost soundless.

It did not echo like it usually would, this one had a silencer. The window was barely cracked from the well-aimed bullet that landed in the wall in front of me. Instead of trying to have a look at where the shooter was, I stayed put for a moment. Once I was sure everything had calmed down, I crawled in the darkness back to the bedroom and pressed my back against the wall. It was hard to reach for my phone on the nightstand, but when my fingers touched the screen, I pulled it to my lap and pressed Hanma’s contact.

The ringing kept me on edge, I was scared he wouldn’t answer the call, but that worry disappeared when the click on the other side signaled he had picked up.

“It better be urgent, babe. I told you I was busy.” He smiled on his end. Taking a deep breath, I needed to calm down if I wanted him to believe me. With one final intake, I stated, “Someone broke in—there is a sniper somewhere, they shot and–”

“I already told you, there are tons of gunshots in the streets, do you know how many gangs are tryna climb up the ranks out there? It’s not about you, doll.”

I wanted to yell at him, to tell him off, but instead I nodded and held back tears of frustration, “Shuji, I’m not crazy—come home now, someone broke in!” I half-whispered, half-yelled. I knew I could make him change his mind, he was just being rational.

But he had to dismiss my panic. With that tone. “Then be good and take care of it.”

“I did! There is blood all over, there is… there… and the bullet hole in the wall–” I couldn’t find my words, I was struggling. I was already picturing the dead body outside this very room that had ended up there because of me. The butchery scene out there had happened because of me. 

He sighed, “How messy is it?”

“Too messy—very messy, I don’t know how it happened, one second I was… I was seeing him and the other he was…” I took a deep breath, “Bashed in.” I whispered. His head was no longer shaped as it should have been, it looked like a deflated balloon and if the comparison sounded light, it was not supposed to be like that. The silence that settled in after those words made me think I’d made a bigger mistake than my overthinking brain already thought it was.

Hanma did not laugh. He did not mock me, nor did he take it like it was nothing, instead he sighed and weighed his words, “Guess it’s on me for never teaching you how to deal with shit like that.” He was more so pondering to himself than to me.

“Clearly you went fucking feral—bashing that bastard’s head in is overkill, but sure. Sure, why not.” He groaned. I heard his hand brushing over his face as he pulled the phone a bit further from it, another sigh escaping his lips before returning back to the call, “Clean up whatever you can, I’ll send someone over.”

Without missing a beat, I asked, “Can’t you come over?” It sounded desperate. “I need you.” I barely breathed above a whisper, my own body cowering on itself as I tried to make myself small. Trying hopelessly to not feel abandoned in this big apartment with my biggest fuckery yet. His sweet voice made me breathe out; I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath trying to fight my tears, “You know I gotta finish this, babe. I’ll be there once it’s done.”

He was abandoning me.

Something clicked inside. I smiled to myself and leaned back properly before evening out my breath, “Yeah…” I said with a fake smile, my eyes lost on the wall in front of me as I lightened my tone, “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll clean up and by the time you arrive, I’ll probably be done.” I chuckled, but he couldn’t see that my face did not match whatever he heard. He didn’t need to know that tears were running down my cheeks, that my body was shaking. He had a job to do, I had to be strong for him.

Just for him.

“There we go, that’s my girl.” His praises made my heart soar as much as it was sore from his absence at such a time. “Aight, if you’re all pretty when I get back, I might fuck you to sleep.” He whispered in such a promising tone that I would’ve gotten excited, had I not been fighting with myself not to fall in a darkness that was much louder than any voice raised at me. I stared straight ahead and teasingly said, “Then I might just put on the ugliest thing I have.”

He laughed, “Aren’t ya a fucking tease today? We’ll see if you keep up that act by the time I get home, huh?” I was glad when he hung up right after, it alleviated the pressure of needing to fake enthusiasm for him. He did not say goodbye, no ‘I love you’, nothing—because goodbyes weren’t necessary if we’d see each other soon and… he was never one for big words, he had always been a man of action.

But above anything, farewells and love were both promises that would turn into dust, should one bullet go astray.

For a short while, I did not move. I stared into nothingness, my eyes locked on the window ahead of me, at the open curtains that fortunately had no building in front of them, unlike those from the living room. 

But after all, what if there had been a building?

What if the shooter had moved?

What if he had shot that bullet right between my eyes?

It wouldn’t have been the solution, you know it.

“You really aren’t leaving me alone, are you?” I mumbled to Rai’s voice. 

That’s the perks of friendship! Do you know who else you can rely on other than me?

“I know… I just… maybe I’m being a bother by calling at this hour.”

But even as I said that, I pressed the name in my contacts. I barely had time to wait for the phone to ring when there was a voice on the other end, “Hello, hello!”

“Are you free tonight? I need someone, I don’t think I can be alone tonight—but please come alone.” If he had seen me begging for company, he’d have told me to get myself together, and he would be right. But he wasn’t here right now, I could do whatever I wanted. Or at least until the situation was fixed and I could get over it one way or another. And I would, I just needed a distraction for the rest of the night. “Of course, of course. You haven't moved out yet, right?”

I scoffed at the question and shook my head, “No, not yet. But that can happen very soon.”

Muffled sounds were heard on the other end, perhaps a coat being put on, keys jingled too, then I heard, “Coming right up, gimme like 15 minutes, see you!”

I did smile at those two last words for some reason, it was so stupid, so simple.

You’re ridiculous.

“I’m aware.”

And those fifteen minutes had somehow gone by in seconds all while being the longest of my life. I hadn’t budged from my spot at all, why would I? To tumble back in that room where a body lied still amidst broken furniture and holes in the wall from bullets aimed as a warning? Because I knew. I knew those had been warning shots, those had been their way of telling me that if I was alive right now, it was only thanks to them. It meant they had seen everything, that I was under scrutiny—if anything, they could still even be in that building, waiting for me to walk by, or anyone for that matter.

Anyone?

Anyone.

“Shit!” Hurrying to my feet, I splayed my hand on the wall for support after almost falling forward from how fast I had gotten up. It was somehow funny to think I had rushed to that very room I was avoiding, just out of care for the person coming in to support me. It contrasted with the lack of care I had upon putting myself on display in front of those wide windows while I dropped the curtains and drew them close. Once it was done, I was faced with the consequences of my actions again and turned my head to the side to not see it.

Nothing like them, you said.

“They’re worse. So yeah, I’m nothing like them.”

And yet she was right. I couldn’t think of anything worse than what I had just done. I hadn’t given the man the honor of my attention since I did that shit without even realizing it. I had lost myself, it was insane.

Two rapid knocks interrupted my self-pity, effectively catching my attention.

The moment I opened the door, I was engulfed in a tight, albeit weak hug that I returned instantly. A high quantity of perfume had been put on too, but it had grown on me. I had gotten familiar with it, so much so that I smiled at the strong smell. It was warm, welcoming, reassuring… “Don’t look behind me.” I whispered against the coat.

It earned me a chuckle, “Too late, but it’s alright. I can take it.”

Pulling back from the hug, I held her by the shoulders, “Shi, will you help me clean up?”

“Of course! I’m loving this new look on you,” She waved her hands in front of me as a way to put me on display. “It’s giving mental illness. I love it!” I let out a short laugh at her words. Even if she had started losing herself slightly, she also hadn’t changed one bit. While she had lost weight, one could not worry about it since she wore it with such confidence. But I knew it was nothing healthy, I somehow knew I was watching her downfall little by little. I was also more than aware I was to blame, but it was too late. It would have been hypocritical of me to tell her off now, after all this time both of us had spent in the heart of Bonten.

Rolling my eyes, I glanced down at my bathrobe and noticed how disheveled I looked with blood tainting it, but it was such a nice color…

I looked over Shiho in an exaggerated manner, meeting her eyes once more, “And you’re giving addicted, skinny bitch. I love it.”

She gasped audibly, a huge smile on her lips, both of us using humor to cope with the situation we had fallen into. Her eyes bright with mischievousness, she held back from laughing only a few seconds before bursting out in laughter, “Listen! It’s a funny joke, okay, but one of us is worse off than the other, and it’s not the one with clean clothes, yeah?” She then walked past me to go straight to the bedroom, “Plus, you don’t get to come for my clothes, I was dressed to go to sleep—no, actually, you should thank me for letting you see me in a nightgown!”

Ever the loudest. Maybe you should have killed her instead of me.

“You were a nuisance, I made the right choice.” I whispered.

Shiho turned to look at me with confusion before her expression turned into sadness as she furrowed her brows with worry, “Is she in the room with us?” She whispered, looking around.

As much as I knew this was a serious question, she had been trying to lighten the mood and the entire situation as much as she could. She was my anchor to reality, she was someone I could count on—if not, depend on—if I wanted to keep my sanity. “Usually when I’m not alone she’s not… she doesn’t come around?” It was strange, but part of me feared it was because I was slipping. As aware as I was that what I had done was bad, it was slowly growing to perhaps be the worst thing I had done so far.

So far, huh?

I winced and walked to the wardrobe, “But she’s gone, it’s alright. We should clean up before Shuji comes back.” Picking up my clothes, I noticed the blood under my nails and clicked my tongue against my lips, “Shit, I forgot to shower.”

“Oh yeah, what gave it away? The blood in your hair, or the stench, or…?”

I gave her a glance, she zipped her mouth shut before laughing once more—this time, it was followed by a coughing fit that stopped after half a minute. “Unless you’re too unwell to shower on your own, I say you go clean up. I’ll take care of the rest!” She said sweetly, both of us knowing better than to comment on her coughing.

Raising a brow, I smiled, “Or we could both clean up my mess and have a homoerotic shower together, blood and all.” I winked jokingly, pushing her back so we both stepped back inside the living room. She was chuckling all the way, gasping, “My biggest dream, how did you know? I’d die happy if I got to see you shower in blood!”

“Oh shut up.” I rolled my eyes.

“What? Is it too close to what Hanma tells you? I swear the man would get a boner if you killed someone in front of him or something.” She commented off-handedly, grabbing a plastic bag from the kitchen. Tilting my head back, I held back a grin that she immediately noticed, grabbing my shoulders with the bag still in her hands, “No way! No way, nuh huh, girl, what?!”

Grabbing her hands and unhooking them from my shoulders, I shrugged, “Listen, he does like seeing blood on me—but do you remember a year or two ago, we were at that bar for Halloween?” She nodded, so I continued, “There was a cop in the back alley, I covered for Shuji there and if he wasn’t like, on the run or something, he’d have fucked me then and there cause I was…” I trailed off, half a shrug as I thought back on that time that for some reason made me smile and made my heart ache at the same time. “I was already loyal to him, so… he was turned on for sure.”

She handed me a sponge along with the bucket she had filled while we discussed and put on the yellow latex gloves, “Ill, that’s so ill,” she quirked a brow comically, “So ill that it’s kinda hot, I know why you keep him around.” She nodded and nudged me as she walked past me. With Hanma’s job being one that required a lot of various skills, he owned a lot of cleaning supplies, so I put on one of the masks he had in the pantry to avoid the stench of fresh blood that leaked out from the dead body.

Kneeling by it with Shiho in front of me as she picked up the brain matter, after putting on my own pair of gloves, I lifted the head for her to pick up the bits that fell from it, “At least Ran isn’t on my ass anymore.”

“Yeah, but you both still fight, right?” It amazed me how casual she was as she tossed the pink and red tissue from the ground, uncaring of the blood that tainted her gloves or the feeling of it between her fingers. “I mean, that’s what I heard from Haru.” She shrugged, brushing some strands of hair out of her face with the back of her hands, but when it wasn’t enough, she didn’t care and tucked them back, blood adorning the shell of her ear as she did so.

Closing my eyes for a second as I looked aside, I hummed, “Tried to clear things up with him, but he didn’t want to hear shit. But you know what?” I asked, sighing as I took a deep breath before exhaling loudly, “If that’s what he wants, then I’ll do just that, you know? He wanna be immature, sure.”

“Exactly!” Shiho exclaimed, pointing her bloodied finger at me with a huge smile, “That’s the spirit! Snatch his dirty old wig from his balding scalp, we girls gotta play dirty.” Upon hearing her words, I almost fell forward from the laugh that escaped my lips before immediately leaning back when I came face to face with the dead man on the floor. My head followed my body as I tilted it back with a heavy sigh to hold back from throwing up.

A small, “Are you ok?” came from Shiho as she took my hand, leaving a red handprint on my glove. Turning my hand and squeezing hers back, I nodded with a small smile she couldn’t see behind my mask, “My dinner’s adventurous, it’s trying to escape.”

“That’s me when I see Koko’s fashion sense to be honest.”

Another laugh from me, she grinned, “Don’t get me wrong! He does have nice fits, okay? But a few days back, he came to Haru’s place, and… I cannot speak of the horrors…” She covered her mouth with the back of her glove dramatically, closing her eyes for a moment before turning to look at me with mischief, “Kidding, I can—so! He had these ugly white shoes that looked like some Versailles shit, you know?” 

“You know the man doesn’t do any dirty work from how he dresses.” I commented too, unable to hide my smile. Her gossiping, if not trash talking, helped me focus on something other than the man I had killed that now lied between us as we cleaned everything the best we could.

But how long will distractions last?

I turned around and looked over my shoulder where I had seemingly heard her. I was more than happy when I heard Shiho speak over whatever Rai was going to say, “Why would he do the dirty work when your man’s responsible for doing it?”

“Clearly he’s not doing it either.” I rolled my eyes after raising both my eyebrows and looking at the corpse in emphasis, helping Shiho fold the heavy man over himself as she grabbed another plastic bag and pointed at the legs, “Us girlies can’t always count on men to do shit for us. Plus, it’s a great bonding sesh, don’t you think?” She said lightly. As I lifted his feet, she slid them inside the plastic bag all the way up to his head. It was not big enough for all of him, so she grabbed another one.

It was still firm to the touch. There was still a bit of resistance as we folded him over, which made it all the more real that he had been up and about mere moments ago. “Okay, man’s got muscles, you should text Hanma that his people should bring tarp or something.” She got up and pushed a bit on his back to see if it would do anything but when it didn’t budge, she sighed loudly. “Anyway.” She emphasized each syllable, throwing a glance that settled on the bucket by my side.

“Peepaw’s outta the way, let’s clean up a bit.” 

As she lifted her nightgown a bit more to not dirty it, she reached for the sponge from the bucket, “Are you gonna gawk or are you gonna help?” She asked lightly, smiling at me sweetly to motivate me.

Standing up, I went to the kitchen for my phone, “I’ll text Hanma real quick, then I’ll scrub with you.” I told her. Once she started working on the already drying blood on the floor and carpet, I grabbed one of the syringes I had taken at the meeting and subtly dropped it in her bag that she’d left in the kitchen. Seeing the state she was in, while it looked rather good for two years of drug use, I did not want to be left defenseless if what I had seen in my dreams ever happened.

It was crazy to believe I was a seer or something close to that, but I would rather be safe than sorry for not being prepared should she ever take one too many.

Taking a long, deep breath, I walked back to her and knelt in front of her with a short smile before turning the sponge to the grippy side to scrub the carpet. “Thank you, again. I don’t know what I would do without you.” And I meant it more than simply regarding the situation I was in right now. What would I do if she was not my anchor to reality? What would I do if she was not here, believing me about going insane? What would I do if she did not lighten up the mood, joking about my hallucinations of Rai? “I’d be nothing without you Shi, I really mean it.”

“Oh, stop it, you’ll–” She sniffled, wiping a tear with her forearm, “You’re making me cry! Please don’t kill yourself cause you’re scaring me.”

Pushing her shoulder, I shook my head, “I’m not dying anytime soon, I just thought I should tell you how much you mean to me because you deserve to know.” I met her eyes and saw how nostalgic they were—no, nostalgic was not the word, they were reminiscing of something, they were melancholic. I needed her to tell me she was not dying either, but she nudged me back, “Good, cause if you die, I die, okay? There is no way I’m staying in this organization without my girl.” As if she had seen the light, she grabbed my shoulders, effectively staining them with a mix of blood and soapy water, “What if we eloped?” She whispered under her breath, excited.

“What’s stopping us? We could—we could go to any country we want! Thanks to Haru, I know people!” But those people would never help us; whatever we asked, they’d tell on us. They would report all of our actions to Sanzu, to the other executives, to anyone they were in contact with. There was no way out, really, but we both knew that. It was not a real escape plan, it was a daydream, a utopic outcome that we could never attain. We both were aware of our situation.

I smiled.

“We’d have to change names, what would you go for?” I asked, thinking of mine as well.

She thought for a second, “Something badass…” A few more seconds, “Oh, oh! Anne Bonny and Mary Read.” She smirked.

Raising both my brows, I couldn’t help the growing smile, “Lesbian pirates, I see where you’re going. We’d have to go somewhere they’re not that well-versed in history to catch us…”

“The United States, for sure.”

I gasped in silence before laughing loudly, “Girl.”

“I’m only stating facts, anyway—I had an important question that’s been in the back of my mind for a few days now.” Suddenly the air was heavier as I paused my scrubbing and gave her my full attention. She did the same and placed her hand on mine, breathing out my name and continuing, “Do you think…” Her face fell, looking down, “Ran has an Instagram account?”

My mouth fell open.

“I’m this close to making you end up like this man on my floor—don’t ever scare me like that!” I gasped, resuming my intense scrubbing while she laughed, adding that she was, actually, very serious. She even asked what type of poster he was, which she immediately started brainstorming, “Cause what if he actually has like… fashion photoshoots and shit?”

“That’s Koko behaviour, he is the one with fashion sense isn’t he?” I inquired.

She winced audibly, theatrically, “I don’t know, Ran’s pretty keen on keeping his looks good, you know?” She said. This was something I could indeed agree on, the man was clean, he wasn’t dressed too shabby and that one time I invited him to my place in the haze of needing to prove myself, he had been very well dressed. Almost… handsomely so.

Shiho snapped her fingers as best as she could with her gloves, in front of me. “Hey there champ, you got your tall, crazy hot man to think of, not Ran-noying, okay?”

Raising a brow, I softly said, “Tall and hot? Do you have eyes for him or something?”

She raised both her hands defensively in a comical way, “Shit, bitch, sorry for perceiving him! A girl’s got eyes, you know? I can see the appeal, not that he’s my type.”

“No, you prefer them much more… How do I put it?” I pondered out loud, giving her the time she needed to interject.

She quipped, “Loyal, hotter, sweeter, with an aversion to hitting me, if possible.” She pursed her lips at the latter, giving me a once over as her smile grew.

“At least mine didn’t get me addicted to crack.” I muttered, giving her a side glance to tease her.

“It’s cocaine, good one at that, and much more! It was never just crack. Get your facts straight, at least something about you should be.”

With a theatrical ‘oh’, I bowed, “My apologies, let me correct myself—at least mine didn’t get me addicted to his very own products. Who knows, maybe he even lets you taste test each new one like a little lab rat!”

She stilled.

“He does, but it’s fun, okay?”

With wide eyes, I stared at her and implied this was insane only by widening my eyes a bit and looking aside. I then clicked my tongue against my teeth and grinned, “That blood is really, huh… it’s really in the fabric…”

She burst out laughing at that and dropped her sponge in the bucket, “You’re right, we should leave it. Let the pros do it, I am not going back to that ‘woman do the washing’ era. Come on!” She took my sponge and tossed it in the bucket as well before standing up and reaching out for my hands. I took hers and let her help me to my feet. We both tossed our gloves on the side of the bucket.

Leading me to the kitchen with her as she grabbed her bag, she then took us to the bedroom, “Get some clean clothes, you’ll shower at mine. I’ll wait in the hall, you have five minutes or I’ll come in and grab whatever—and I’m feeling slutty so I’ll take all the sluttiest clothes you have.” She emphasized the words threateningly, but all we did was chuckle at that. Nodding, I left her in the hallway at the door and quickly grabbed my phone, I had forgotten to text Hanma.

I knew it was bad to do so, but I decided against telling him I was going to Shiho. I wanted to see how he’d act, if he’d get worried about my disappearance. I simply texted him, ‘Need tarp, the furniture is too big for me to move on my own. I might ruin the floor’. I stared at the text for a second, did it make sense? Code-texting was hard, but as long as he knew he needed to bring tarp I didn’t care, so I sent it and immediately packed some clothes in a bag with my necessities.

Before opening the door again, I had this feeling inside my chest that sought attention. I pulled out my phone and stared at the conversation with Hanma once more, debating with myself if I should do it or not. Something clicked in my mind and I smirked, feeling some thrill as I typed down my message as fast as I sent it.

Won’t be home. Find me :)

A shiver ran through my body. It would piss him off, but I knew I’d enjoy the outcome. I wanted him to hunt me down because a sort of routine had set between us and that passion he had for me at the beginning seemed to be fading. It was my duty to spark it back, right?

“It’s been five minutes, guess I’m coming–”

Shiho was going to open the door when I did it for her, giving her a small smile, “I don’t even remember if you know how to drive.”

“Who cares? There’s Haru’s chauffeur, come on.” She said off-handedly.

For someone I knew was smart, I couldn’t believe she had done that. For that very reason, I stopped her in her steps and looked her dead in the eyes, “Shi… did you come here with Sanzu’s chauffeur?”

“How else, girl… at this hour I’m not driving, and it’s much smarter if they get a ticket than if I do just ‘cause I was in a hurry.” She then mumbled something about not wanting to pay a fine for something like this, saying that there would have been the possibility of them, the cops, asking why we were in a hurry and she couldn’t find herself lying to them. The chauffeur, however, could just say that she had asked them to hurry so then the cops could feign ignorance. 

There was the option of berating her, but where would that get us? They were here now, so the solution needed to be found with the chauffeur, not with her.

I got inside the car with Shiho and leaned over to the front seat, “What could make you keep your mouth shut and not report to Sanzu of her whereabouts?” Just as those words left my mouth, I felt Shiho’s hand on my shoulders as she pulled me back to my seat, “Why are you acting so weird? Who cares if he tells–”

“I care. I’m… Listen, I texted Hanma… and for some reason, I don’t want him to know where I am.”

Her eyes widened, “Are you finally running away?” She gasped jokingly before leaning to the driver’s seat like I had seconds before. “Pretty please, don’t tell anything to Haru! At least not until tomorrow morning, okay?” From her smile as she sat back, there seemed to be an understanding between them, but I did not truly trust anyone. He could very well be telling her he wouldn’t say shit then still do it, so I was on edge and glanced down at my phone to see if Hanma had answered. 

Nothing.

A hand snatched my phone from my hands, “Yeah, I’m taking that.” She shoved it in her bag and smiled sweetly at me, “No boys thoughts, only gossip and fun.” She demanded. I wanted to grab my phone again just in case Hanma tried to contact me, but it would go against my stupid action of telling him to find me. If I answered any of his texts or calls I knew I’d tell him, so it was for the best if I did not keep my phone on me.

“Only gossip and fun, yeah.” I chuckled under my breath, basking and enjoying this semblance of normalcy for the little it was going to last. She threaded her fingers with mine and held my hands enthusiastically, telling the chauffeur to drive back to Sanzu’s place. “Gossip first, there’s not much fun to have in a car.”

To that I huffed a laugh, “A lot of fun can be had in a car–” She covered my mouth instantly, shaking her head slowly as her voice lowered. “Sex in the car is outdated, it’s uncreative. If your next words are about that, I will throw you out of this car.” Her hands slowly left my mouth, freeing it, bringing my grin back as I held back from talking. I don’t remember telling her all that had happened, may it be the first night I encountered Hanma when he threatened me almost the same way she did right now. Nor about that night I was stripped off my drenched clothes after the cemetery from the pouring rain we’d stood under for hours.

She gave me a look, one that could not believe I was shutting up right now, then laughed under her breath, “That is the straightest shit you’ve ever done, keep it that way until we’ve arrived.” She said with a fake disgusted look thrown at me.

“I’m kidding, I’ve never fucked Hanma in a car, promised.” At least as far as I could recall, and my memory seemed more and more faulty recently. Perhaps it was not the best thing to rely on, yet here I was, using it as my sole defense. Shaking my head, I patted my bathrobe pockets trying to find my phone only for Shiho to tut me, “Damn girl, that needy for your man’s texts? Bit embarrassing–”

I sighed loudly, “Can people stop calling me embarrassing? It’s probably the third, or fourth time today.” I rolled my eyes, focusing on the road with the genuine frustration boiling inside me. Something nudged my side, with a slow turn of my head I could see Shiho almost leaning all the way across the seats to nudge me with her head, “Come on, there’s nothing wrong with being embarrassing! Be who you are girlie, live your truth.”

A breathy laugh escaped my lips in disbelief, “‘Oh no, bestie, you’re not embarrassing, who dared tell you that?’ is what you should have said, can’t even count on you.” I faked an eye roll, making her chuckle once more.

“Hey, I’m here to keep it real, yeah?” And she couldn’t be more right. I wasn’t sure she knew how close I was to letting go of whatever I was holding on to. Something remained that still made me feel torn between two things, but I didn’t know which. I simply felt constantly undecided. “Yeah yeah, keep that realness going and I’ll–”

She made a mocking face, “You’ll bash my head in? Nah, who else will help you clean up? But keep up the threats, one of them might work!” She then exclaimed that we had arrived and unbuckled her seatbelt, doing the same for mine before patting the back of the driver’s seat, “Mouth shut, right?” It was more cooing the man into submission than intimidation.

The man only met her gaze in the rearview mirror, but he did not reply. Could those people even interact with us? Or were they paid for their utter silence, no input, no thoughts, just driving. “I’ll take it as a yes, come on!” With my bag in hand, she got out of the car and held the door open for me to join her.

“You know the way, right?”

“Forgot which floor, but yeah, pretty snobbish place if you ask me.” I teased her, earning myself an outraged gasp from her as she slapped my arm. Wincing to myself, I pushed back and added, “Kidding, I’m just keeping it real, you know?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” She dragged the last word, her head tilted back in slight, but humorous annoyance. Of course, she led me up to Sanzu’s place. It was surprising to see how things had changed—there seemed to be less emptiness in the room, more personality, more green. Shiho probably had all to do with it, she was a plant lover and it added to the charm of the otherwise cold, white room. Surely the greenery would thrive in such a light and in her care.

Looking around, I quickly avoided staring at the display of different pills and substances, preferring to look at the clean kitchen that we walked by. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen my room, though,” She opened the door slightly, closing it immediately, “Close your eyes! I’ll clean up real quick, I want you to see how cute it is but it’s a mess right now.” She then slithered inside the room and closed the door behind her, barely leaving me any time to react. The sheer absence of her had me slowly falling back in that muffling feeling of being alone with myself.

Is that how you pretend to cope? Is this comfortable to you?

Closing my eyes, I did not want to see her, nor hear her. I started humming to myself. Forcing myself to think of anything but her, which would end up being harder than I’d imagined with her voice coming from me and nothing else. I could not deafen her. I could not tone her down.

One second and you’re back to being useless.

“I’m not useless just because you are here.”

But you’re unreliable. Who would trust someone that hears voices?

“Everyone has a conscience. I could say you’re just that, my conscience. Then I couldn’t be more normal.” I gritted through my teeth.

Conscience, guilt. Same thing, right?

“I regret nothing, I did what I had to do.” I whispered more aggressively, this time opening my eyes to see absolutely nothing. I looked around trying to find her, only to hear her behind me—I turned around and saw nothing once more. This time, I took a step away from the door and walked around the room to clear my mind, to no avail.

Regrets and guilt are very different concepts, should we find out?

The door opened wide, “Alright! We are ready to par-ty.” Shiho grabbed my hand and led me inside. The room looked very clean, except for the few items of clothing on the floor. The head of the bed was oriented towards the large window; as I entered, there was a large chest at the foot of the bed on which one could sit. On the left of the door was a wardrobe and on the wall, the entirety of it was covered in shelves with books, various trinkets and a few weapons. To the right, there was a screen behind which we could get changed and a door that led to the bathroom.

I followed her with each step, looking around at everything. Smiling to myself, I tried to joke to avoid thinking about Rai’s visit, “Had too much fun last night with Sanzu? Maybe some things were used, maybe they needed to be cleaned…” I trailed off, barely making Shiho laugh from how she was focused on something in the commode.

Waiting for her to bring her attention back to me, I was about to sit on the bed when she yelled my name suddenly, “You go shower right now, I’m not having your bloody clothes on my fresh sheets, understood?” She pointed to a door by the screen and shooed me to go there while she rummaged through her stuff. I tried to look at what she was doing, but was met with a glare from the woman who repeated her gesture of shooing me away.

Huffing, I grabbed my bag and went inside the bathroom, locking the door behind me as I dropped the item down on the white tiles. The sound of it hitting the floor was sharper than expected, instead of hearing the muffled sound of fabric, it sounded like something heavy was inside. With furrowed brows, I opened it and saw that Shiho had put my phone inside my own bag instead of hers—immediately, I grabbed my phone, noticing Hanma had replied to my message.

Just like those first days, there was this fear and excitement in my chest that I had missed so much. It was like finding myself again. 

H.: Don’t think I’m a headhunter or something

H.: Send me your location

H.: I’m not playing

But I was, I grinned at his texts and instead of replying with any sort of words, I placed the phone on the sink and dropped the bathrobe before taking a picture of my body. Fresh bruises and cuts adorned it amidst the scars of previous fights, some from him, some from strangers, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I made sure to keep the bathrobe hooked at my elbows while I showed off. The timer counted down, and once the picture was taken, I sent it to him. Nothing else.

My entire body was shaking with excitement as I dropped the phone and watched the screen light up with a call from him. My eyes remained on the screen for a moment before turning away from it and sliding inside the shower where the sound of the water was drowning all but the prickly noise of water droplets hitting the tiles over and over again like rocks on windows. Slowly, I straightened my head and watched the blood running down the drain, with intricate designs swirling within the water. It was fascinating.

Blood was fascinating.

Seeing how easy it was to get rid of while fresh, but so hard to get rid of once it had settled. Once it had dried. Once time had passed. The beautiful, bright and fresh color turned brown, almost black as time went on—almost like ink. Poems and texts talked about blood with such passion as it poured from open wounds, as it brought and took lives, but never sang its praises as time worked on it. No one described it as earthy and natural, as part of life once it was no longer fresh.

A beautiful thing in its prime, but whatever time touched, whatever time worsened, everyone would tend to lose interest in.

“That’s what’s happening with him… I’m boring to him… what if he tosses me aside?” I pondered out loud, finally turning off the water once I was clean. “I can’t have that, I have to stay by his side, to show Mikey I am allowed to stay in Bonten.”

“Bestie, you’ve been in there for a while, you have thirty seconds to open.” I heard Shiho speak from behind the locked door, mumbling that she shouldn’t have left the key in the lock if she had known I’d do that.

With a spring in my steps, I wrapped a towel around my form and opened the door, “I’m getting dressed, give me a moment.”

She pushed the door open and sat on the closed lid of the toilet, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen, I was warned you were a bit…” She made a face, “That you have some tendencies sometimes, so I’d rather stay here a bit—plus, I have more stuff to say.”

Turning my back to her, I shook my head with a short smile while I dried off my body and put on my underwear. Shiho started talking in the back, “Did you know that Rindou and Kakucho went to the gym together? I only found out ‘cause Rindou texted Haru one time to know if he wanted to come—and like, they send post workout pictures in their group chat.”

“That’s bad because?”

She gasped, “Which one? Which one of those two men could have you question this?”

Laughing, I put on a large shirt and shrugged, “Per principle, I gotta hate on the Haitani… but Kakucho is pretty muscly, and the scar has something, you know?”

She stood up and shook me by the shoulders, “Who are you and what have you done with my girl?!” She screamed dramatically. While she was joking, I couldn’t help but feel like I had messed up my usual persona and pushed her, “I’m kidding, I’m loyal to my man. Plus, who could ever stand Rindou? All the man ever does is reminisce about about his DJ days–”

Shiho interrupted me, “Yeah! As if anyone is stopping him? He could probably go back at any point, as long as he’s free whenever Mikey calls him.”

At the mention of his name, I stilled and straightened my back. “Come to think of it, what does Mikey do during his free time?”

I huffed a laugh while putting on my pyjama pants, “Does the man have any? I thought his agenda was crime, crime, murder, dinner, more crime. You know, cause… he doesn’t sleep and all that...” 

Shiho stood there, staring right at me with her mouth slightly open. Each of her blinks growing more and more meaningful to the silence that set between us. After what felt like ages, a smile grew on her face, “Girl, that was so fucking bad, oh my god. For the love of—oh, that was bad. Don’t…” She covered her mouth as she laughed, leading both of us outside the bathroom and to her bed. I nudged her, telling her to stop mocking me but she told me the joke I made was all she needed to know I needed to be bullied.

“And here I thought Takeomi was the worst at jokes…” She pondered out loud before suddenly chirping, “Oh, talking about that motherfucker, last week Sanzu and I went to his place, right?”

“Right…”

“And girl, girl–” She half covered her mouth theatrically, “The stench. The stench of that place, I don’t know how many packs he smells a day—I even got his girl on the side,” She mimicked telling a secret to me by placing the back of her hand like she was going to whisper something into my ear, “By that I mean the one he had on that day, you know, cause he changes them daily, at most weekly, yeah? And she told me it was disgusting to kiss him because of the taste of tobacco.” Then she fake-gagged, I couldn’t help the snort that escaped my mouth.

Both of us laughing, I slowly calmed down. “I had the same issue with Hanma, but at least he smokes like… I don’t know 3? 4 a day? It’s foul, yeah, so I just shove a gum in his mouth or something.”

“That doesn’t get rid of the smell on his clothes.” She argued.

“Hey, some cologne–”

“No cologne can erase the stink, your man is like Takeomi.”

I gasped, “Take that back.”

She smirked, “Never.”

Before I could fight her playfully, her phone rang. She immediately got up and picked up the call, it was brief to say the least. “Yes. Yes. Oki, love you.” was all she said, and it was enough to know she had talked to Sanzu.

Once she hung up, she joined me back in bed, this time under the covers, “Where were we? Ah, yes! I also heard Mochi might be divorcing his wife… It feels weird, you know? He has kids and all.” As she droned on telling me about the potential drama behind their divorce, for some reason, I did not care. Even with Takeomi, I had lost interest. I was usually so fond of gossip, so why was I so bored right now? Did I need something worse than divorce rumors? I was too lost in thoughts to listen to Shiho until I heard, “Dead body.”

That’s when I came back to reality. “Dead body?” I asked.

“Oh, bitch, you’re ill, that’s what it takes to get you back? Anyway—yeah, dead body, Kakucho was asked to get rid of one, even though it’s usually Hanma’s shizz, you know?” I nodded at her words, it was strange to not ask Hanma for it but perhaps he was already busy. He had been rather busy recently, he wouldn’t tell me what he was doing, but it had been taking a lot of his time. Getting more comfortable, I hummed to myself, “Is he any good at it?” I asked.

Shiho scoffed, “He’s more brawn than whatever Hanma is. Like he beats people up, intimidates, stands in corners to scare people off.”

“Yeah, he seems like the type…” I trailed off, picturing him doing whatever I had done so many times with Hanma. It did not suit him one bit, he did not have the appeal to be reliable on that field. “Bet he fucked up.” I commented.

She drawled a long ‘well’, “Let’s say Mikey’s not in the mood to delegate ever after that. He should stick to being muscular and scary.” She added under her breath that he wasn’t even that scary, but it was true that when people didn’t know him they would tend to focus on the scar and muscles—that was enough to give them a mental image of what he had done in life. Or to let them imagine all too many stupid things.

“If you think about it,” I started, seeing the swords hanging on the wall, “Kakucho and Sanzu are almost the same–”

Shiho sat up quickly, throwing her pillow at me, “Take that back! My man’s not as useless as Kakucho, Haru is super versatile in so much shit.” She then started counting on her fingers all the things he had done, meaning all the things she had assisted him with, “Drug dealing, people threatening, katana wielding?! Come on, that counts for something, and it’s hot. He’s also much more charismatic, and! And Mikey trusts him.”

“Yeah, doesn’t he trust Kakucho too? If we just think like that, he should trust all of his execs, nah?”

She stopped speaking and looked at the blanket. I could see just from that glance that she was holding back from spilling some important stuff. Stuff she wasn’t supposed to know that she probably learnt through Sanzu.

With a smile, I poked her hand, “He should trust all of his execs, correct?”

Her eyes met mine, pleading only slightly, “Come on, don’t make me spill–”

I raised both my hands defensively, “Alright, I won’t.”

“There’s a rumor of a mole in the higher-ranked members.” Her hands flew to her mouth, covering it in an attempt to take back whatever had been said. A genuine—or as genuine as I could muster—smile adorning my face now, I chuckled and told her I wouldn’t say anything. “We shouldn’t conspire…” I said, looking at the window, leaving behind a silence.

Then I heard her whisper, “We could theorize a bit though, right? A little thinking never killed nobody…” Our eyes met with mischief, both all too excited to gossip—although I only wanted to hear more of her information. She seemed to know a lot of things that, if they got in the wrong hands, it could help people have leverage over Bonten. Of course, not divorce gossip, but she must’ve known so much more rumors like the one about the mole, as someone so closely involved.

It was funny how life would come full circle. Should life, i.e. Mikey, feel humorous, I would be assigned to hunting said mole—but I would never be. It would require his trust, Mikey’s trust. It would require him relying on me, something he would never do, not in the state I was in.

Are you thinking of being Mikey’s bitch now? Little girl wants to prove herself by doing dirty work? I wonder who would be smart enough to hunt down a renegade…

Hanma.

He has been pretty busy, hasn’t he?

Shiho pondered out loud, “It couldn’t be the Haitanis, they thrive too much on their businesses. Haru is too… too…”

“Too in love with Mikey, you’re right.” 

She hit me.

Laughing shortly, I brought us back on the topic, “Maybe that’d give Takeomi a reason to turn on the organization? You know, big bro messed up his little brother and wants to ruin whatever—I don’t know where I am going with that, but it made sense in my head.” I finally breathed after my short ramble, leaving Shiho with a face deep in thought. For a moment, she seemed to be taking in consideration a lot of things, perhaps some I was unaware of.

She then shook her head, “No, no… he couldn’t, he’s too much of a follower, he’s a sheep.”

“Who knows, maybe it’s not an exec at all, could be any random member to be honest.” I shrugged, making her focus once more on her thoughts. For some ‘little theorizing’, she seemed to be almost ready to solve the problem; but as if something clicked in her head, she looked back at me and grinned, “But who cares, I’m not a detective, I am only here for tea.”

And as such, she cozied back in bed and smiled sweetly at me, “That’s why we have to talk about Mikey’s past, did you know he used to be in a gang against most of the execs? I think Haru was probably one of the original ones that stayed with him all throughout.” She said, rather proud of her lover for sticking through thick and thin with Mikey. Which only made it clear that Sanzu was one of the only ones who could never be a traitor, but anyone else could. Anyone who used to be against Mikey could turn on him at any point.

Or maybe before thinking of who could betray him, I should be thinking of why they were all here in Bonten in the first place. What was their reason for submitting to Mikey? How had they lost?

“Oh, I think maybe Hanma too joined the original gang at some point? I really don’t remember, it was such a long story that Takeomi told us one time when he was drunk—and girl, he is so bad at story-telling. He kept repeating himself, and fuck does he focus on the worst details!” She exclaimed the latter part with a heavy sigh. I let out a short laugh and commented that he was like an old man talking about the war and she nodded fervently at that. It felt like he was bragging about all he had done, but at some point, he was talking about everyone's accomplishments while never mentioning any of his. As if he had been set aside from there on out.

Sighing, she turned off the light and I could hear the sound of plastic and metal, from grabbing a medicine tablet in the darkness. I was glad Shiho couldn't see me, my broken face at the realization that she needed this even to sleep—this was no melatonin pill and we both knew it, but why comment. What good would it do? She hummed happily and bid me goodnight. Doing the same, I stared at the pitch black ceiling, not feeling one ounce of drowsiness in my body.

“Do you remember Aiko?” She murmured.

A weak smile drew on my face, “Yeah, haven’t talked to her in ages.”

“She dated the twinkiest man ever a few months ago, I thought she was a lesbian.” She explained sleepily.

Humming, I asked, “Girl’s bi, what can I say?”

“No, cause, he was ugly. Maybe she was punishing herself for letting go of her ex—it had to be a punishment, he was so crusty.”

This time, I let out a snort but did not add to it. Shiho did, “When Rai died… Aiko fell into a deep depression. Her ex couldn’t get her out of it, so she started clubbing and fucking around. Maybe that’s why she settled for the uggo…” With her face deeper in the pillows, she hummed to herself again, sighing melodiously while reaching for my hand to bring it to her chest as she hugged it, “I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself after fucking up, I didn’t want to be here alone… You do know I forgive you, right? For goofing up like that…” She spoke slower and slower, but it did not take away from the importance of her words.

The weight of them.

The impact they had on me.

Even if I couldn’t see her in the dark, I turned to face her, tears threatening to fall down my face, “What if I don’t deserve that forgiveness, Shi.” I breathed out, her hand tightening on mine, but she did not reply.

“What if I want to do more of that for them? What if I don’t want to repent?” I asked, voice shaky.

Please answer.

When she did not answer, my mind reminded me of my dream, that stupid, exhaustion-induced lucid dream of her death. Patting the bed, I placed my hand under her nose and felt her steady breathing, my heart calming slowly.

“You’re the only good person in this entire organization.” I’ve long since turned like them. I’ve long since lost myself in all my wrongs, unable to swim to the surface. 

“It’s like I’m stuck under frozen water,” I whispered to myself, “I can see what could be, but I can’t fucking get out. I can see you smiling at me through the ice, but there is no way to reach out.”

It’s tiring, it’s cold here and I don’t want to die. It’s so cold that I’m warming up to it. The depth of the water calls to me and the bottom of the pit feels like a comfortable bed to be on, because I can finally rest with all those who have fallen there.

Wiping my tears, I laid back in bed and squeezed her hand, “Thank you for everything, sleep tight.” I smiled, joining her in the world of Morpheus after an all too long tête-à-tête with my thoughts.

[Part 3]

[physicalturian]

The lengths I would go to - Hanma Shuji X F!Reader

[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga][She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]

[Spoilers from Deranged Love]

Words : 8 084

Summary : You needed to prove you were something, to shows Bonten and Hanma you had value. You did the only thing you thought you do just that : kidnap Ran Haitani.

Warnings : Rape Joke / Voyeurism / Non-Con Voyeurism / Incest Jokes / Hair Pulling / Mention of rape (no rape) / Unprotected sex / Creampie

--

Right as I sent him a text, I felt some regret.

But only for a second. For just a second. After all, why would I regret what I was about to do? I needed to show him what was going on. Since he was stupid enough to disrespect us a few days ago at his brother’s party in front of so many people, I needed that respect back—one way or another. Bonten did things the hard way, the smart way, the right way .

Sighing contently, I placed my phone on the coffee table in Hanma’s apartment and walked to his— our bedroom. If it all went according to plan, it wouldn’t be too hard to get him to do whatever I needed him to do.

Have you seen the chemistry he had with that woman? They were probably talking about you. He’s not stupid enough to come to you. No one is.

“Of course he still likes me, he threw me a gaze and I felt it. Just one last hope, it’s enough, right? To get him to play my little game.” I told her. If she was going to stick around, why not talk and have fun? I’ve always wanted friends… good ones. Shiho would be gone soon, I knew it. Hanma said so. And Rai? Rai was never leaving. I huffed a dry laugh to myself and took off all my clothes.  

Looking at my figure in the mirror, I gently trailed a finger on the tattoo on my sternum and smiled, “He doesn’t respect me, I’ll show him what I can do.” Staring at myself for a second, my eyes widened shortly, “ Everyone will . I’m not weak anymore.”

Without much care, I opened the wardrobe and reached for one of my best dresses. After all, Ran was an easy man, if a whore was enough to please him—if my person dressed in work clothes was enough to make him want me, then he was a simple man. They all were, all but Hanma.

I caught a glimpse of myself smiling in the mirror and felt my face flush like a stupid little girl before turning around and getting dressed. It was pretty exciting to be doing this alone, of my own incentive. Not only would it show Bonten that I was worth it—after all, I would be putting my hands on one of their executives so easily, something many wanted—but it would also honor Hanma. I couldn’t handle being the reason they hated him even more.

Speak of the devil , I thought upon hearing my phone ring in the other room. Grabbing a pair of heels on my way out, I ran to the living room and picked up the phone a bit out of breath, “Hi.”

“Did I interrupt your fun, doll?” God, his voice. It was so easy to get me to relax the moment I heard his voice, I felt myself smile just from it. “Here I thought I’d fuck you numb once I’m home, guess you won’t be needing it.”

Interrupting him in excitement, I let myself fall on the couch and huffed a laugh, “Oh, we’re gonna fuck alright, I was doing some…” I looked around, finding the room almost spotless from this morning, “Preparations, for your surprise.”

Hanma hummed in curiosity. I heard his shirt brush against the speaker of the phone then the slamming of his door, his voice dropping a few octaves as he smiled, “ Not the biggest fan of surprises. Don’t play coy and come clean already .” Although his tone seemed light enough, I felt his annoyance and my heart beat faster in stress. Should I tell him or still keep it a surprise? I did not have much time to think, so I did the easiest thing, “Come home and you’ll see. Bye, bye.” Then I hung up.

My phone was thrown on the couch like it was scalding hot, I’d rather not see his pissed-off texts or I knew I’d change my mind. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed it again only to put some music on the speakers, something to get in the mood…

Scrolling through everything, I found the perfect playlist and put my phone back on the table before walking up to the alcohol cabinet. Seeing the glasses and bottles reminded me of what I had copped from Shiho yesterday.

“Shi, don’t ask questions but… do you know where I can get any drug to make someone pass out?” I had asked her. She was surprised at the time, speechless for a few seconds as she looked at me with worried eyes before rummaging through her bag. A few seconds passed, and she pulled out a little pouch. It looked like something to stash pads or tampons in, but inside was a more metallic sound of medicine clinking alongside a box. A few more moments passed, and I felt my entire body cold from stress. I had never really done that of my own free will, it was not that bad, right? I wasn’t going to do anything to him, he’d just have to be asleep if I wanted to overpower him… yeah.

Her hand was placed on the table delicately as she slid it toward me.

“One roofie tablet for the lady.” She said with a laugh.

I immediately pushed her hand away, grabbing it and shoving it in my bag, “Thank you.”

“I don’t wanna ask questions, but I’m curious. So I’ll still ask, feel free to not answer but–” She paused, her brows furrowing, “Are they really putting you to the drugging task for their stupid missions and stuff? I mean, I’d rather know you’re safe than be out there shooting people, don’t get me wrong.”

My nervous giggle of relief interrupted her, making her confused. I could roll with that, I thought, “Yeah, I—yeah, I guess I did good during that Casino thing so… thank you for not thinking it was for me, I don’t need that to sleep or anything.” 

“Listen, listen, you may have–” she mimicked slicing her throat, her tongue out and eyes closed, “someone, but he had pressured you… yes.” She nodded, convincing herself. I did not reply, knowing full well what I was about to do out of my own volition with this drug. She smiled and continued her kind rant that defended me, something I just knew she would do until the end. Something I knew was wrong to let her believe, but found solace in. 

As she spoke, I was already imagining how I would drug him.

Opening my bag on the cabinet, I grabbed the tablet and put it in the glass. I made sure to pour something only he would drink. I didn’t know the man as much as I needed to make sure he would go with the plan, but I was confident in my observation skills. He did not seem the type to like fruity stuff, so I poured myself something with red berries—that way I was sure he would not take my drink—and left the glasses there. 

Now all I had to do was wait for him to arrive.

I knew Hanma would be there in about an hour, maybe less, but Ran? If he arrived after Hanma it’d be messy. He needed to arrive earlier to give me enough time to take care of him and prepare my gift to Hanma. “Oh shit, I forgot!” I exclaimed to myself before hurrying to the bedroom and finding a plastic bag I had shoved under the bed.

“Let’s swing by the home depot real quick, I need to get some stuff.” I told Shiho as we got up to leave the café. My eyes glanced at the bathroom, remembering that fight I had with Rai last time we came here. Had I been able to convince her at that time, she wouldn’t—

Oh, what’s done is done. 

It could have gone differently, don’t you think?

What’s done. is. done.

Shiho nodded and put on her jacket, hooking her arm with mine as she led us outside, making me look ahead instead of staring at the bathroom. “I could probably find some nice drapes for Haru’s place, the windows are huge. Don’t get me wrong, I’m into some public stuff, but people don’t have to see me right when I wake up, you know?” She explained, walking rapidly.

Humming, I looked around, feeling like someone was following us, “Suites have blinds, don’t they?” I said off-handedly, my eyes sweeping the streets, trying to catch the person who was following us. I thought I had seen someone looking our way at some point, but they entered a shop soon after, so I let it slide. The odd feeling remained even as we entered the store while Shiho explained how closing the blinds would ‘show they didn’t want to be seen’. How Sanzu argued that showing fear and paranoia would mean we were not strong enough in the eyes of our enemies.

I suppose it sounded like Bonten; if someone had a problem with them, all they had to do was come at them. They were more than kind to listen, the actions taken afterwards were not as kind, however.

“Some rope, but not too rough. Something like…” I reached for a white rope that seemed malleable enough, I could tie it without too much effort. What kind of knot would work, though?

You’re considering drugging a man and tying–

Shut up.

“Damn girl, is there some kinky stuff going on with pole guy? You know, this kinda reminds me of that book with uh–” Shiho started, but I shook my head and was faster to stop her daydreaming, “It’s for Hanma.” It wasn’t a lie, it was for him that I was doing this. “I need to buy some.” It was true. I needed to buy it, not for his use, but ultimately… it was all for him.

The woman laughed and reached for some rope, looping it around her shoulder. She mumbled something to herself then looked at me, “Tell me when.” I watched her wrap, when it was enough so that it did not look too suspicious, I told her to stop and thanked her before cutting the rope. Usually, I’d come to this store maybe for oil for my wooden furniture or nails to hang up pictures here and there.

Never had I thought I’d need to come for this.

It was a quick trip, I paid, was handed a plastic bag with the goods, and left the store.

“I should cut some, I’m not going to need that much…” I pondered out loud, about to get up to reach for some scissors until I heard a knock on the door.

Panicked, I stood up and grabbed the bag with me before throwing it under the couch so it was within range once he passed out.

Putting on Hanma’s bathrobe, making sure it fell off my shoulder as I opened the door, I also put on a smile like a weapon. If it was Hanma, I needed to calm him down; if it was Ran, I needed to get him in the mood to relax. Whichever it was, I needed to look enticing. Taking a deep breath to calm down, I brushed my dress down and pulled at the neckline slightly so it hung lower.

“Coming.” I said in a bored tone, turning the key and opening the door slowly, peeking behind the door. I held back a smirk at the sight of Ran dressed up nicely. He was usually wearing a suit, sure, but the amount of cologne he wore was a bit of a giveaway of the effort he had put into this. Looking him up and down, I met his gaze and smiled, “You cleaned up nicely, Haitani.”

He huffed a dry laugh and nodded at the door.

I opened it fully, showing off how I was dressed. He purposely walked past me, barely giving me a glance, letting me shut the door behind him. “This is Hanma’s place, what’s the catch?” He said, his guard visibly still up. He was going to make this harder than it was supposed to be, I didn’t have time for this.

Rolling my eyes, I walked up to him and gestured for him to hand me his jacket, “He’s not home, I’m just trying to clear the air between you and I.” I said, turning around to hang his jacket before facing him once more. I took off the bathrobe and tossed it on the free seat. “If we’re going to work together, we might as well act like adults and not hate each other, right?” 

Reaching for the cabinet, I grabbed my drink and brought it to my lips before Ran placed his hand between the glass and my face, “What’s truly going on, psycho?”

I sighed and realized he was going to make me say everything he needed to hear before believing anything from me. Pleading looks, he needed that. I glanced up at him with doe eyes then bashfully turned my head to the side, “What you all said at Rindou’s party… it kinda struck a nerve, you know?” I paused, he did not move but was intently listening. The poor man was already hooked, his attention fully drawn to my lips and each word that was about to flood from them, “I overreacted out there, I yelled, I got mad, I was… humiliated.” Lies . I was angered, and exhausted by their lack of respect for me.

“Keep going, I like where this is going. I’m sure you’ve got more of this.” He said with a smirk, his hand reaching for the drink meant for him as he took a sip and stared at me. I held back a victorious smile and reached for his free hand, “I liked how you chased me.” I said softly, he almost spat his drink but swallowed before meeting my eyes with newfound excitement. 

“You cut your hair just like Hanma for me, right? It was cute, you know…”

This time he laughed fully, leaning in with his breath right against the shell of my ear, “You’re gonna have to try harder if you want me to believe you.” His hand gripped the back of my head, tilting it back as his lips ghosted over mine, “That silly game of yours isn’t cutting it, so be honest and I’ll see what to do with you.”

A smile drew itself on my lips, this was something I was never going to admit to anyone but I got turned on by his roughness. Seeing him more forceful, less pitiful, trying to show he was the shit, it was sort of…

“Speak, psycho.”

So I spoke, “ I wanted to get a taste before you picked her. ” Was it a lie? Yes… of course I didn’t want him. He needed to hear this. I didn’t want him, but he wanted me to want him, that’s why I said that. Ran seemed shocked for a second, his grip lessening only a little before he forced my head to the side and inhaled my perfume, “I knew you were fucked up, but cheating’s an all-time low.”

I scoffed and pulled out of his grip, chugging my drink quickly before slamming it on the counter, “You gotta taste different flavors to know which is your favorite, right?” I met his gaze as he mimicked my actions and gulped down the rest of his drink. A chill of excitement ran down my spine, I’d have goosebumps if some were not all over my body already from how mad he was getting. This was too thrilling.

“Then I’ll–” His words died out, cotton-mouthed. His eyes darted to me in confusion, oh , the taste of one-upping him. “I’ll show you.” He was struggling to speak, his glass shattering on the ground as his hand reached out for me. I let out a sigh of annoyance at the display in front of me but let it happen, watching him turning more and more confused, “‘ou ‘ucking ‘itch.” He finally said as his limbs gave in. With a grimace, I stepped back to avoid his body falling at my feet and stepped over it, joining him in seconds when he reached for my ankle and made me fall on the ground.

I swore at him, kicking his hand away as I pushed myself from the floor and hissed at the glass shards that had grazed my skin, “Will you fucking sleep? For fuck’s sake.” One kick in his side, his hand fell by it as he finally drifted to sleep.

“That’s a whole mess, and for what?” I rolled my eyes, brushing the shards out of the way to grab his ankles and drag him to the couch, “You couldn’t pass out on your back? You had to do it face down, dramatic bitch.” I sighed, making myself laugh before the dread of the words I’d uttered reached my brain. My grip tightened around his ankles for a second—I stared at Ran’s body and my eyes widened. Kneeling by his side, I helped his body on the couch and started muttering, “I didn’t mean it, I don’t want him at all. You believe me, right?”

What are you even doing?

“I only want him, not Ran. I don’t want Ran, I want Hanma. You have to believe me.” I looked at the ceiling and smiled, worried, fearing he had heard all the lies I had spilled. This buzzing was growing louder and louder, I could barely hear myself talk.

“We have to show them all we’re worth it, it’s all for you .” I whispered, laying Ran on his side with a loud huff on my part at how heavy the man was. His legs on the side of the couch, I half sat on it as I tied his hands behind his back.

Do you see yourself?

“I see that work needs to be done!” I stood up, looking at Rai only to see nothing, but I continued, “And I’m the only cut to do it! Okay?!” I told her, unnerved by the attitude she was giving me. Ticked off by my heels, I hurriedly took them off and tossed them aside before going to the kitchen to get everything I needed to clean the shards off the ground. It needed to be spotless for him, it was his surprise, it had to go perfectly.

Once everything was tossed away, I helped Ran sit on the couch, his head resting on the back of it, “Now we wait, right? You and I…” I uttered, putting back on Hanma’s bathrobe before slumping on the empty seat in front of Ran.

Humming a song to myself, I looked at Ran and said, “See, if I were the one passed out, you’d be on top of me in an instant.” My smile dropped, and I stood up to pour myself another drink, giving him a dirty look, “Watch how easy it is to not assault people.” I looked around to see what else I could move for the scene to be perfect—staring at the coffee table for too long, I decided to get it out of the way and grabbed some blankets from the bed, laying them in front of the couch. 

Still kneeling on the blankets, I looked up at Ran’s passed-out form and grinned, “It’s going to be such a show!”

Just as those words escaped my lips I heard keys rattling at the door; I had left mine in. In no time, Hanma’s voice was heard. I got to my feet in seconds and was about to open, but instead listened, “If you locked yourself in ‘cause you’re scared…” He trailed off a few seconds, it was exciting, “Then you’re right. But I can’t really hunt you down if you’re locked in. We both know how much you love to be chased.”

I opened the door.

I greeted him in that beautiful dress, his bathrobe on my form, somehow trying to hide Ran behind me which Hanma saw and gently pushed me aside, “Doll.” He turned around, I noticed the bag in his hand and ignored his warning tone. The one I knew would get me in trouble. I closed the door and nodded at his hand, “What’s in the bag?” I smiled.

He smiled back, but without the sweetness.

Handing me the bag, he purposely ignored the body on the couch and cooed, “You didn’t think I wouldn’t get you a gift, right?” When I reached out to take it, he got it out the way, “I bought it before you went rogue, so we’ll open it after you explain yourself, yeah?” Placing the bag on the counter, he grabbed the drink I handed him and chugged it down in two gulps before tapping the corner of his mouth, looking at me intently.

Feeling my heart beat fast in my chest, I stepped closer and held the side of his face before wiping the droplet from the corner of his mouth with my thumb, “There.” I breathed out, my hand trailing down his shirt before hooking on his belt.

He smiled tightly and gripped my wrist before pulling me to the couch and letting go of me; I was offended. With a huff, I made sure not to look at Ran and frown at Hanma, but he gripped my jaw tight, “Do you know how many fucking rules you broke?”

“Since when do we care–”

His eyes widened in a crazed haze, “You’re nothing, do you get that?” His hands cradled my face as he ghosted his lips over mine, his eyes never leaving mine, “The only one who can do shit without consequences—it’s fucking Mikey, no one else.” He laughed dryly, almost exhausted. It wasn’t supposed to go like this at all.

What did you expect? That he’d praise you for being crazy?

I’m not crazy, he gets my vision, I know it.

I was starting to worry, looking at him with wide eyes, “How do you think he’ll react when he learns you kidnapped one of his execs for…?” He trailed off, making me understand I needed to tell him why I did that, so I kissed him hesitantly, he did not return the kiss, “For you…”

He huffed a laugh and let go of me, I reached for his hand and pulled him towards me again, stopping him from walking away, “Doesn’t it show that I’m smart?” I raised my tone slightly, pointing at Ran’s passed out form, “That I am worth something? I managed to get one of Bonten’s executives down. I’m not going to do shit to him, but it shows I’m something, right?!” I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it before wrapping it around my neck, “Tell me I’m something, please. I wanted to show–” My words were getting caught in my throat, how humiliating.

Then I stopped being stupid and dropped the bathrobe before pulling down my panties from under my dress, tossing them aside, “We had to show him how it’s done, right?” Hanma’s hands found themselves on my hips, pulling me against him as his lips grazed my head, “They don’t want us together ‘cause—they’re jealous, that’s what he is, he is jealous 'cause he’s never going to get me, so show him I’m yours.” I breathed out, buzzing with excitement. Ran wouldn’t ever say that, it was too embarrassing to admit after all.

With my hands on his collar, I pulled him closer to me, wanting to be one with him. Our lips a breath apart, I looked him dead in the eyes, pleading, “Show him I’m yours.” I repeated.

“Are ya asking me to fuck you in front of a Haitani?” He whispered against my lips, the smile that adorned his beautiful features sending butterflies to my stomach. I giggled and pushed at his chest, trying to get him to tumble back on the blankets but he held strong, unmoving. It irked me. “I’m asking you to show me off, to claim me.” I breathed out.

Instead of laying down, he grabbed me and forced me to my knees in seconds, the pain of them hitting the ground making me hiss. I quickly grabbed his hand to pull him towards me, but he slapped it away and tilted my head back to look down at me with a smirk, “That was fucking embarrassing, do you realize it?” He mocked, taking his vest off.

“I can definitely attest to that, now let me fucking go.” Ran seethed from his spot on the couch, his voice still drowsy and his head still half-tilted on his shoulder in sleepiness. Both Hanma and I faced him in surprise, and annoyance for me. But said annoyance only lasted a few seconds before I got excited again to get my plan in motion.

When I was about to wrap my arm around Hanma’s leg, he stepped towards Ran and punched him in the face, “Go back to sleep brother fucker.” Hanma swore under his breath, pissed off about the interruption I assumed. In an instant, his mood switched when his eyes widened humorously, “ Oh ?” He reached for a pillow and threw it on Ran’s lap, “Cover that shit up.” He spat, pressing his shoe on the pillow between Ran’s legs, “Didn’t know you could even get hard without lil’ bro around.” Seeing him twist his foot like a bastard on the pillow, making Ran try to knee him in frustration, had me keeling over.

“Same shit over and over again, you sound like a broken record.” Ran slurred on the spot and gritted his teeth, “Now put your bitch on a leash and let me out before she bites my balls off just to see what it does.” I did not have time to be offended or to tell him off before Hanma spoke.

“God, shut the fuck up!” He was getting more annoyed just from hearing Ran talk while I was getting more aroused upon seeing him heated. Standing up, I removed Hanma’s tie and as Ran mumbled something, I gripped his hair and wrapped it around his face, forcing his mouth open and tying it behind his head. He had a hard time articulating anything, which was exactly how we wanted it.

The man never speaks for shit, it’s better like this.

I think he’s allowed to complain, you kidnapped him.

It has a purpose, go away now.

Looking back at Hanma proudly, I smiled. I needed to focus back on him, I only needed him in my head or she’d come back. 

Hanma raised a brow, still on edge, his lips turned down in frustration. Taking his hands, I guided them inside the dress and over my breasts, “Now that he’s silent, I want you.” My hands gently wrapped around his wrists, I guided them to my shoulders, under my sleeves then down my arms, making my dress fall from my shoulders. I saw his eyes drop to my chest and helped one of his hands to it, ignoring Ran’s sounds in the back.

Hanma wrapped an arm around my waist and turned me around so my back was facing Ran—I did not mind and wondered why he had done that, but enjoyed the feeling of his hands on my skin. He then smirked down at me and said, “You’d look hotter with my name branded on your skin.”

I pressed myself against him and unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt, “You’d like that?” I breathed out, my lips pressed to his throat, that slender throat that I wanted to hold tight while he fucked me with no care, “Your name written on what’s yours, just like kids do with their toys, right?”

His eyes shone with thrill as his smile widened in a crazed haze, “Watch your words.” He ripped my hand from his shoulder and placed it on his cock, “You might regret getting me so hard.” He looked down at my breasts and slid his hands back to my waist, then brushed his thumbs on my nipples, “ You’re being too gentle, Shu… are you shy? ” I whispered in a mocking tone, making him look at me with what seemed to be a fire lit by the challenge I had thrown at him. A smirk formed on his lips as he brought a hand to my face and forcefully tilted it back, eliciting a grunt from me, “Does my pretty doll hate it gentle?” That mocking tone, those pleading eyes that showed me he didn't care, all felt so good, “It’d be a shame to have her frustrated from it,” He glanced at Ran, “Right? So annoying if she’d beg for my cock.”

With a hard pull on my hair, I was separated from him as he pushed me to my knees once more, “A fucking shame to show you how much she hates me by using her just how she likes it .” He threw a fake smile at Ran then knelt with just one knee on the ground as he held my chin with his index and thumb, “Isn’t that right? Maybe we should fuck like old times, when you’d tell me you hate me with my fingers inside you…” His lips now brushed the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine as he breathed, “Remember?”

Nodding, I shuffled closer to roll my hips on his thigh, the dress still pooled at my waist, “You’re a piece of shit.” I said with loving eyes, something I wanted to believe he returned when his eyes softened for a moment before he fully knelt and helped me to his lap with both his hands under the fabric and on my ass, “Give it more of a fight, more bite.” He said excitedly, nails digging into my skin.

Grinning at him, I unzipped his pants and started stroking his cock out of his pants as I lifted myself to my knees, “I’m nothing like you.” I gritted through my teeth before kissing him hungrily, guiding his cock to my entrance—before I could lower myself onto him, he pressed himself into me with force, making me moan in pain into the kiss and hold onto his shoulders. Hanma laughed maniacally into the kiss, grunting loudly, dramatically, for the show, so that Ran could hear him loud and clear, “There we fucking go, that’s my girl.”

My eyes widened at the words, feeling a weird feeling in my chest at the underlying softness. I stopped kissing him, staring at him instead. He had called me that many times, but this time it felt different for some reason—I couldn’t overthink it much, time didn’t allow it, and he did not allow it when he started kissing my throat, “See, Haitani. She’s a bit tricky like that, she gets a bit in her head.” He said, looking over my shoulder as he pressed me onto him, his hands still on my ass, guiding me to roll my hips against his, “So you gotta make her go silly, turn her stupid little brain numb. It’s very easy, she’s so submissive.”

My body was on fire, burning in embarrassment at the words he was addressing to Ran. I tried to press my forehead against Hanma’s, but he tilted his head and pouted at me mockingly, “What was that, doll? Intimacy?” He then freed one of his hands and cradled my face, “You should know better than to show weakness in front of anyone, try that again and see what happens.”

I let out a shaky breath and nodded, pressing my forehead to his shoulder instead as I started riding him desperately, needing to feel his cock deep inside me. I needed to get him off, to show we were meant for each other, I needed to—

”Putting on a pretty show, isn’t she?” Hanma sighed, leaning back on his elbows so he could watch me ride him. He tilted his head to the side at the sight of my hands hesitantly moving to his neck, a mischievous smile adorning his features, “And she’s so full of anger too!” He exclaimed.

“Help yourself, doll. Choke me if that gets you off, if anything that’ll make me the victim.”

When I wrapped my hands around his neck, I smiled happily and started rapidly moving on his cock, needing more and more friction, “Oh no,” Hanma fake grunted desperately, “She’s raping me, so fucked up, so so fucked up.” He let out a moan right after, more following as I brushed my thumb against his Adam’s apple and looked down at him, losing myself in the bliss of his cock. Meeting my eyes, he grinned and lifted the hem of my dress, exposing my ass fully to Ran.

“Hurt me, mark me, please,” I leaned in and pressed kisses against his lips that he did not return on purpose. His eyes looked at me and then at my lips many times, pride draped on his face as a crown did on a King’s head. He enjoyed seeing me desperate like this, my hands had long since moved from his throat to his jaw, moans and whines of pleasure flooding from my lips. “Please, I need it. I need the pain, I need you, please, Hanma, please.” I started repeating, like a mantra, each word punctuated by a kiss without ever stopping the rolls of my hips, each bringing me closer and closer to utter bliss.

Hanma’s hands moved to my back, his fingers tapping playfully on it as he dug his fingers and met my eyes once more, “Louder,” He gritted through his teeth.

A scream of pleasure tore from my throat, Hanma smiled, “Tell the public how bad this is,” He clawed my back, over and over again, each time deeper than the previous one, “How much you hate it,” I was getting closer, I couldn’t formulate words, my mouth was wide open as I leaned back, my hands still balancing my weight by being placed on his chest, “How much you hate me .”

I smiled, swearing under my breath as I kept riding him, ignoring his words. Not liking it one bit, Hanma stilled my movements and held me down, a strict frown on his face, “The fuck did I just say?”

Smirking playfully at him, I looked over my shoulder and batted my eyes at Ran, exhausted and panting, “Harder, Shuji, fuck me harder.”

He rammed his cock inside me, I screamed in pleasure, my eyes rolling back as I faced him again. Hanma’s face was deep in the crook of my neck, his breathing heavy as he panted out, “Say it.”

“ I love you. ” I whispered to his ear, he laughed and trailed his lips up my neck, to my ear, “Not that, you idiot—are ya fucked dumb already?” He mocked, tucking my hair behind my ear as he trailed his tongue against the shell of it. He smiled, I heard it in his words, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Let me go please, I hate you.” I said dramatically, trying to look over my shoulder to Ran again, to make fun of him. Hanma wrapped his arms tight around me, pressing my chest to his as he sat up and reached for something behind me. I watched the pillow from Ran’s lap being tossed aside, hitting the window, “This is so bad–” I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped my lips upon seeing the wet, darkened patch on the pillow. I pressed Hanma’s cheek against mine and started rolling my hips again in an attempt to stop laughing. 

It worked when moans tore from my mouth once Hanma joined in on the fun, but he had to bring the topic back, “Keep at it doll, he sure is enjoying the sight.” Hanma scoffed, making me hide my face against his shoulder as a mix of laughter and moans was all I could muster.

“Let’s get comfortable, yeah?” He leaned back, bunching up some of the blanket to form a makeshift pillow for his head and gestured for me to go ahead. I held onto his waist for support and started fucking myself on his cock, replying, “I don’t care if he’s enjoying it.”

I leaned over Hanma and kissed his neck, unbuttoning his shirt, “I don’t care, it’s for you–” I swore under my breath and let my head fall back again, laughing in pleasure as Hanma’s hands caressed my body. One settled on my hip while the other around my neck, “Mmm, yeah? All of this for me?” 

I nodded, telling him yes over and over again as I felt myself getting closer, my nails digging painfully in his skin from the reddening I could see. Hanma’s eyes flickered to the side, then I heard some tumbling and from the corner of my eyes I saw Ran standing up. Hanma pressed me to his chest and laughed when Ran dizzily said, “Fuck the both of you, you’re so weird. I’m out.”

I didn’t even look at him, I wanted to ignore him and keep feeling Hanma’s cock, but he had to have a conversation, “Mention her little slip-up and I’ll mention your leak-up, yeah?”

Wanting him to keep going, I made him look at me and kissed him, “Shut up, please I’m close.”

“You’re fucking sick in the head, get help, both of you.” Ran spat.

Laughing as he pushed my face away, Hanma simply flipped Ran off. “See ya.”

He did not get an answer, instead, the door slammed shut and Hanma’s attention returned to me, making me all the more excited since we were finally alone.

“Get off me.”

My eyes widened and I did so, thinking I had fucked up something, “Get on the couch.” He nodded at the furniture before zipping his pants back up and getting a cigarette from the pack in the pocket of his coat that was thrown on the free seat. Lighting it up, he puffed out the smoke and smiled at me, “You suck at tying people up.” He spat.

About to put my dress back on, I looked up at his approaching form and said, “It was well tied, I’m sure of it, he–” Hanma slapped my hands away from my dress and tore off the sleeves so they could not cover my shoulders anymore, the dress pooling back to my lap. “Then he’s just that strong?” He asked, bringing the cigarette back to his lips.

The underlying implication was that either I admitted Ran was strong, or that I’d fucked up. Looking down, I uttered, “I thought it was tight enough, I messed up.”

He scoffed, crushing the cigarette in the ashtray by the couch, “You fucked up way before that.” Sitting next to me on the couch, he forced me to turn around and brought my hands behind my back, “See, I got pissed off at Rindou’s lame party.” He started. I felt the rope wrapping around my wrists but did not complain, I trusted him. He wouldn’t hurt me, I knew that, if anything it was going to be fun.

“Their comments were out of my control–” I started.

He tightened the rope roughly, making me wince, “That outburst of yours wasn’t.”

He shook his head, muttering something about me being an embarrassment, “But this?” He was talking about Ran, I felt it.

It doesn’t take a genius to know it’s fucked up.

I ignored her.

With my wrists tied, Hanma gripped my jaw as he stood up, his face close to mine, “This is the stupidest you’ve ever fucking been, doll.” He spelled out each word with poison lacing his tone, making me worry even more. At this point I had nothing to say, I would take whatever he gave me because I had wronged him.

“Wrapping him like a present— it’s not my fucking birthday .” With a click of his tongue, he pushed my head back and sighed in frustration. I wanted to tell him I was sorry but speaking would only make him madder, so I looked at the ground and waited. A short moment passed, then his hand lifted my chin gently, gesturing for me to get up. He smiled sweetly, it was scary, “There is some good we can take from this embarrassing failure of yours. Do you know which parts?” He asked, his thumb brushing over my lower lip.

“That I’m a maneater?” I half-joked.

He barked a laugh and shook his head, “Oh doll, no one would ever want you if they really knew who you were.” With a kiss on my forehead, he tutted me and took my hand in his, leading us to the windows. He opened the blinds to look outside, his hands behind his back. It was off-putting and for good reason, since he then pressed me against the freezing window, his cock at my entrance as his arm held me down, “That you’re devoted. Yeah?” He breathed next to my ear, his hand turning my head so he could kiss me angrily, “Selfless little doll would do anything to get her dignity back.” He laughed, breathless now from the thrusting.

Closing my eyes to enjoy the feeling of his cock back inside me, I chuckled in elation and hummed, “For you, I needed to show them I was–” A moan ripped from my throat, Hanma tutted me and told me to keep talking, so I did, “That I am an asset, I can be trusted.”

“Why would they ever trust you?” He said in a condescending, sad tone. But he was nowhere near unhappy, with his free hand he held my throat, “Why would you seek their approval?!” He gritted through his teeth, “When will you get it in your fucking head that you’ll never be taken seriously, ever. Not by them, not by anyone.” His thrusts were getting more and more hectic. I was moaning and crying at the same time now, tears running down my face mixing with the sweats of pleasure. “If you wanted to be loved, you should have fucked Mikey.” He laughed dryly, “ They’d have worshiped you then , a missed opportunity huh?”

Shaking my head, I sobbed, “I don’t want him, I want you, Shuji.”

He scoffed, kissing the side of my face as his hold on my throat tightened, “Then why are you tryna prove yourself to Bonten? You’re in, it’s done, get on.” 

Closing my eyes, I felt the tears roll down. I reached for his hand, unable to breathe; I felt the pressure around my wrist let go, the rope untied. “I tried to fix my mistake, I want to be good, I swear. I promise I’ll be good.” 

“Being good won’t get you anywhere.” He raised his tone, his forehead pressed to the back of my head, “Just do the job you’re asked to do, that’ll show your worth.” He sighed, frustrated still. I didn’t know he would be this annoyed by my endeavor, but I did not want him to hate me, “Nothing else, no kind fucking words, no niceties, nothing else will do shit for them.” He said with finality, his thrusts also slowing down.

“Then it’s just us.” I said light-heartedly. I tested if I could turn around; he resisted at first, then he let me. Bringing one of my legs up against his side, he immediately grabbed it while I guided his cock inside me and cradled his face, “I prefer it that way.” I whispered, finally calming down as he did too, kissing me lovingly. My heart was full, I loved him so much. Gently, I made him look at me and smiled, “I could never hate you, you’re everything to me.”

Brushing his hair back, I held his cheek, “I won’t kidnap Ran again, I’m sorry.”

Hanma laughed at that, pressing his forehead against mine. Before he could speak, I added, “I never meant to worry you… I won’t act without your approval again.” His thrusts resumed as he held my wrists above my head with one hand, then pressed his lips against mine, chuckling into the kiss, “Such an obedient doll, let’s see how long it’ll last this time, yeah?” 

One hard thrust, “How long until you go against me.”

Another hard thrust, “Until your little need for praise has you ruining everything we worked for.” Letting go of my wrists, he shoved a thumb in my mouth and forced it open to stop me from holding back my moans. I gripped his shoulders tight, whining at every thrust that followed.

“Never.” I whimpered. He laughed in my face, I couldn’t help but get more turned on by him mocking me, my hands now holding on for dear life to his hair, “Because I’m never leaving your side, I’ll be so good, I promise.”

Brushing his nose against mine, he huffed a laugh amidst his heavy breathing, “Promises, promises…” He trailed off, his pace stuttering as his tone was slightly lower, “You are aware of what we do to traitors, aren’t ya?”

“I don’t need to know, it’ll never happen.” I managed to say, making his eyes light up with something I could not describe. Fully sheathing his cock inside me, he let out a long sigh then kissed me once, “It better. Or I’ll be taking care of you personally, understood?”

I nodded, kissing him again, wanting more than just a peck. He gave me that kiss I so desperately needed and then placed his index finger against my lips, “I said, understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiled dryly then pulled out, using the fabric of my dress to wipe himself clean, “I guess it’s a lesson learned.” He exclaimed happily, pouring himself a drink.

Dropping the dress on the ground, I grabbed his bathrobe and put it on, “If surprises are not your thing, what should I do for your birthday next year?” I asked, changing the topic. If I’d kept at it, I knew he was just going to act paranoid again and I hated it, I wanted him to trust me.

Which he can’t, since you’re unstable.

I’m just like him, he should get it.

“I could go with shaving that fucker’s head, it’s kinda ugly with all the gel he uses.” He said off-handedly, I wrapped the bathrobe around my waist and huffed a laugh. Looking up at him, I had this need in my chest to be close to him, to hold him, but he had rejected me earlier. Could I still try? Joining his side, I poured myself a drink too, and reached for his hand. He looked down at our hands and quirked a brow as I asked, “What’s your favorite food? We could go to a restaurant, maybe?”

Hanma smiled, bringing his hand to my cheek. He planted a kiss on my forehead and huffed a laugh, “Ya really are something babe, I just left you without letting you cum and you’re being all cute?”

“You can just answer the question, no need to be condescending about it.” I rolled my eyes, pushing myself away from him.

He laughed in his drink and downed it all in one go before grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him, “First open my gift…” He handed me the bag he had brought back earlier and I hesitantly reached inside to pull out a cube— a glass cube? Looking at it, I saw inside there was a signed golf ball. Confused, I looked up at him, he grinned, “A little keepsake from your first solo mission, ya know?”

“Did you steal it from him?”

He shook his head, “You can’t steal from rich people, you take back, that’s all.” He shrugged.

I smiled in nostalgia at the item and placed it on the cabinet, “Thank you, I love it.” I was about to step back when he pressed me to his chest, wrapping my arms around him, “Now, let’s talk like you wanted to.”  He made me walk backward before making us slump on the couch, “Let’s have normal conversations.” His voice was somewhat softer.

“After all… why not pretend we’re normal people for a night?” He chuckled, grabbing his pack of cigarettes before answering my question at length.

[physicalturian]

[18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 3

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

Words : 10 333

Playlist : link

Archiveofourown

Warnings : Reader-Insert // Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con // Canon-Typical Violence // Graphic Description // Graphic Description of Corpses // Dubious Ethics // Explicit Language // Blood and Injury //

If some managed to take time for themselves and relax, he couldn’t have that luxury.

From being given a boring mission to receiving a call from his girl in pure panic, he couldn’t catch a break. Hanma knew she had been going through an episode, as he would call them. She had been growing a bit too unstable for his liking and it was thoroughly demonstrated when, out of nowhere, he got a text from her telling him she wouldn’t be home when he returned.

Hanma’s anger was rising—not at the audacity of sending that text, but at the stupidity of her action. Her little game was not going to change shit, nor was it going to make him go home earlier. If Mikey wanted him out there, tailing some random people from his gang, then he would do it. It was the easiest shit to him; boring and time-consuming, sure, but easy. All he had to do was follow people around, and he was good at it. He knew how to fit in a crowd if he wanted to, but where was the fun in that? People were always more responsive if they saw him as he was and he never minded it.

Everyone was intimidated by him.

Except for her.

At least, that was the only excuse he could find to justify such a stupid text from her. Of course, he was fast to tell her off, to tell her to send him her location. He thought for a second, how stupid can she be?

Because no one would be this cryptic after almost being shot—she was a target of that stupid gang that was after Bonten, and she still acted out. If she was not replying right now, Hanma knew she would never reply, that she wanted him to chase her. If that's what she wanted, he would give it to her.

But not right now.

Putting his phone aside, he rolled his eyes with a loud sigh, “I got other shit to do than this.” He grunted, his head hitting the back of the car seat while his fingers drummed on the steering wheel in an effort to keep himself awake. The big fancy word Mikey used was reconnaissance, but it was just stalking. He was put on fucking stalking duty to try and find out who was the snitch, who was stupid enough to run up to another gang and give them information. Frankly, Hanma thought it was as stupid as it was respectable, only to some extent. 

Being that crazy to turn on Bonten was commendable.

But being crazy enough to betray the biggest crime organization by being a new gang’s bitch? They knew what it took for that snitch to turn on Bonten, what would assure them that person wouldn’t turn on that very gang right back? Hanma scoffed, about to grab a cigarette and light it out of boredom but he quickly put the pack back in his pocket when he remembered he couldn’t be noticed—smoke from a car was not lowkey.

“For fuck’s sake, this is bullshit.” And as he said so, his eyes that had never left the target widened only slightly at the sight of the person being shot down in the middle of the street. The bullet had come from the alley cutting across from the main street. Quirking a brow, his attention was piqued as he smiled to himself, waiting to see if someone would walk out of there. Then, right on time, a man dressed in a suit stepped onto the empty main street.

Hanma shook his head, bringing his cigarette to his lips but not lighting it as he let out, “Cheap ass suit.” under his breath. He debated internally if he should just kill the fucker that had taken down a member of his organization, but he was not there to take action in the name of anyone. He was there to observe, so he did.

He could have lowered himself in his seat, but why would he?

Instead, he opened his window and lit his cigarette, puffing out the smoke, “Need help?” He called out, face leaning out of the window. The man turned around in panic and shot in his direction. That was all he needed to know this man was no one important. Probably an insect-on-insect crime, meaningless stuff. He had been sent on a dead-end errand, a trail that led to nothing. Grinning, he started the car and drove full speed towards the man who fell on his ass after tumbling on the dead body in front of him. Hanma stopped the car instantly, opening his door and stepping out without thinking through his plan for more than a few seconds.

A couple steps and he was towering over the idiot that was scrambling to his senses, gun aimed in an attempt to protect himself. Hanma shook his head, tutting the—now, clearly—boy in front of him.

“You barely look 20, you’re basically a newborn.”

Smirking, he leaned closer and grabbed his cigarette, pressing it against the boy’s forehead, his screams of pain probably awakening everyone who lived nearby. “There, baptized ya.” He whispered, “Now shush.” He brought his finger to his mouth in a gesture to keep it quiet. The boy dropped the gun and was about to place his hand on his forehead to soothe the injury when Hanma groaned and kicked him in the face, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him off the wet ground. “This is the foreplay, cut the wailing already.”

But the boy was sobbing now.

How boring. How useless.

“Baby needs his sucky?” He mocked, “Aight then.” Hanma dropped the man back on the ground, taking the gun before shoving it in the man’s mouth, effectively shutting him up. “There! Wasn’t that easy?” He spat each word, accompanying them by pressing the gun, twisting it, removing its safety and placing his finger on the trigger. The young man on the floor nodded, eyes filled with terror.

Hanma did not have time to waste on this guy, but he knew he had to milk him for whatever information he had. “I’m not gonna torture you, you can breathe.” As he said that, he took the gun out of the younger one’s mouth and tucked it in the holster inside of his vest. A short smile was all he gave before grabbing him by the ankle and dragging him to his car, “And I’m exhausted, I don’t wanna deal with you.” Hanma said off-handedly, as if this was part of his daily life.

This was something the boy at his feet was not used to, being manhandled. He cried, “No, please let me go, please! I promise I won’t say anything to anyone!”

“I should be saying that, you’re the one responsible for the dead body out on the street.” Hanma said mockingly before helping the man over his shoulder and tossing him inside his trunk. He immediately grabbed some tape and wrapped it around the man’s face, making sure to go over his mouth a few times before cutting it and doing the same to his wrists, ankles, elbows and knees. “Don’t be scared, yeah?” Then he disappeared from view, the boy in the trunk shaking in fear as he tried to wriggle his way out of his bindings in vain.

Only a few moments after, he sobbed in shock and disgust when Hanma walked up to the trunk once more with the dead body over his shoulders. “This one’s yours, right? It’ll keep you company.” With a smirk, he tossed the body over the boy and slammed the trunk shut. It was much more practical to shove both of them in there rather than risking the weasel escaping from the backseat. 

Letting out a long sigh, Hanma grabbed his phone and tossed the gun on the passenger seat; he had never been fond of such fancy weapons. He found it much more enjoyable to use his fists, or, if a situation called for it, a knife or more fun tools rather than guns. Guns were the weapon of the weak, it was too easy to get your hands on one, to aim and pull the trigger—and a lot less satisfying. There was no thrill, no energy spent in the fight, no proving that you had the upper hand.

Two idiots could aim a gun at one another, brainlessly listening to orders, unaware of what it truly meant to brandish that.

Two fighters knew to respect one another’s strength, should a brawl start. They were aware of the damage being done, it was much easier to gauge—to reign it in, or lose yourself into it. Hanma loved to play with that thin line between control and the all too easy indulgence of letting go, he relished in it. It had been too long since he had gotten in a proper fistfight that got him going. Nowadays, it was weak people. Cockroaches. Nobodies. They never gave him a fight.

He had once wondered if that was why he had been so interested in her.

Was it because she had fought him, albeit being completely aware that all it took was one wrong move and she could have died? Or was it that even as he was molding her, she struggled against his hold all while reaching out to him? Like a rabbit in boiling water, she tried to jump out onto his arm to save herself. He reveled in those days of having her nails digging inside him, all her claw marks and the feeling of her struggling against him.

That was the appeal, knowing she was probably as insane as he was, as insane as he needed her to be. But he knew better than to bathe in the satisfaction of having made her as she was, because he also knew it would not end well if she continued down that road. Something needed to go differently this time. If not, he would have done all of this for nothing. He couldn’t care less about whatever those two idiots had to say to try to stop him, he had to change things up—even if it meant twisting their carefully-made plans.

Exhaling loudly, Hanma called Sanzu and started the car, already driving off to one of their warehouses.

“What.” Sanzu spat.

“Trail was a bust, the target is dead–”

“Who fucking told you to kill one of ours?” Ah, Hanma enjoyed how easy it was to set Sanzu off, but at this very moment he was pissed at the tone he had used. At the lack of faith he was being shown. Still, he added in a calm manner, “Trust me a little, I got other shit to do. I’m bringing you the idiot that shot him though, I’ll be at warehouse 8 in ten minutes.” Hanma explained.

Huffing a laugh, Sanzu nodded to himself, “Just leave him in one of the crates, Mikey sent me home so I’ll deal with him tomorrow.”

“Mommy sent you home ‘cause you tired? Oh, ain’t that adorable.” Hanma mocked with a beaming smile.

He was met with the end of the call. It did not phase him much as he tossed his phone by the gun and did just as Sanzu had instructed. The tied-up boy had long since fainted, which made it all easier.

The final stop of the night was another warehouse that was further off, away from all the noise in the city, from any eyes or curious minds. It’s where he would go to do his job. Once there, he carried the dead Bonten member’s body out of his trunk and unfolded a tarp, throwing the weight on it.

As he put on his rubber apron, shoes and gloves, he started working.

There was something soothing about making someone disappear. The entire process of erasing fingerprints, liming down teeth, burning the hair. It was fascinating to know that no matter what someone did, it was so easy to turn their existence into nothing. All with simple steps, simple tools that anyone could put their hands on. He had been desensitized to seeing naked dead bodies as he burnt down their clothes and made sure anything that could give away who they were was gone.

He knew when to make sure a body was found, when to plant it someplace where it would only be a matter of time before the cops found it. But this was one of theirs, as Sanzu had put it. And Mikey had made a promise that they would all end as nobodies. Because joining Bonten meant you would live as someone, you would be recognized, you would be feared—ultimately, while doing dirty work. And the cost of it all was that if you died, no one should track anything back to them.

You would start a nobody, live infamously, then disappear like smoke in the wind.

Those were pretty words, but Hanma knew if he was going to go down, he wanted it to be grandiose. No fireworks, no big show, but shit—what he wouldn’t give for some thrilling death.

‘Dying like this is embarrassing.’ He thought to himself. He wouldn’t want to go at the hands of mere insects. If he were to die from the betrayal of one of Bonten’s executives, he knew he’d have won. After all, Mikey had always doubted him—not that he cared much, but he knew. The water they swam in was one of wariness; while others merely dipped their feet in it, Hanma and Mikey had been underwater for years now. They would see one another in its murkiness, but never acknowledge one another.

No one truly understood the two of them. Sanzu stuck by Mikey’s side since he was involved in most of this from their childhoods, but did he truly understand the depth of the man? Of his every single judgment? Hanma did. On many occasions they had met over the years, some at different times, all at important, decisive moments. They sometimes spoke, but it was not until a few years into this mess that Mikey thought it smarter to have Hanma with him, rather than against him.

It had made Hanma laugh then, to see the blond man come up to him, telling him that he knew. The Reaper had never denied anything, nor had he affirmed any statement Mikey had made. He’d only smiled.

“We are the same, I can feel it.” Mikey had said at the time, even now Hanma thought back fondly on the memory. It must have taken him a lot to come up to him, to bend the knee as such, to admit this to the man that had a hand in killing his sister.

Hanma had grinned, dropping the body he was beating up onto the floor, “Took your time, Man-ji-ro.” He spelled out each syllable, all too aware it would fuel the man in front of him.

“It’s Mikey.” He spat. After a moment of looking him over, he continued, “You don’t really care about all this. You have nothing here or anywhere else.”

With feigned hurt, Hanma made a sad face, “Are you saying I’m a loser? A nobody?” He stood up from the man he was straddling for ease of punching and towered over Mikey, his eyes now filled with rage that did not show in his stance.

“Your strength can be put to good use. Your old ways are now fitting to what I’ve built.” 

With slight surprise, Hanma smirked, “Are you begging me to join Toman again?”

“Toman is gone, I won’t defile the good it has brought. I want you to join Bonten.”

With one step back, Hanma opened his arms wide and laughed loudly, “You think reinventing yourself will change the outcome? We both know how it ends, get used to it.” With one swift move, he was face to face with Mikey, now grinning like a maniac, “Their fate is sealed.” It had been so long since Hanma had seen any sort of expression on the blond man, and seeing how his face hardened and jaw clenched, he knew he had touched a nerve.

A split second was all it took for Mikey to try to kick him in the face. He blocked the hit and grabbed his leg, pushing him away, almost making the small man tumble back. “You’ve grown weak, Mikey.” He let go of his leg and kicked him in the stomach. The blond huffed in pain but remained standing, eyes set on the lanky man.

“Being soft won’t get anyone to follow you—you’ll get stepped on in a heartbeat.”

Mikey scoffed, “My statement remains, you have nothing. No one. I’m protecting them–”

Hanma went to punch him in the face, but his fist was held to a stop. He hated that he’d had someone to protect. He had lost his only friend. He would never go that deep in his psyche to think about all of this, but it was true—visiting a grave was not as thrilling as fighting by someone’s side.

Maybe part of him simply wanted people to share his thrills with.

Maybe that’s why he gritted through his teeth in a purely adrenaline-driven state, “Beat me and I’ll join you—no! Tell you what, I’ll even take a tie just cause I know you got soft.” He needed to be stimulated, and Mikey’s arguments were nothing close to valid. He did not care about his goals, he did not care about his people, he needed someone to fight for. Not someone he cared about, but someone that was worthy for the tool he had become, someone that was powerful enough to have him in their ranks.

“Sticking together isn’t enough for you?” Mikey asked, dodging hits while attempting to land some.

“Valhalla was never a friendship gang, I don’t care about any of that shit.” Hanma spat.

It made Mikey smile slightly.

“And we both know what you are, Mikey.” It had meant so much more than those simple words, but he continued, “They don’t see that you’re a manipulative piece of shit, but I do, I know you got more game than what you’re saying.”

And at the time, that darkness that adorned Mikey’s face had sent Hanma on the edge, like electricity coursing through his body. His eyes had widened in excitement, he had almost told him that this was what he wanted, this man now standing in front of him was a man he wanted to follow.

“There, that’s it, that’s your true–” He was interrupted by a punch landing on his face; Hanma had immediately stepped away and spat the blood that had drawn from the inside of his cheek smashing against his teeth. It didn’t make Mikey pause since he went running towards the man at full speed, “Has it affected you that much already?” Hanma asked with a laugh, once more dodging Mikey’s hits.

A laugh that came from his chest soon followed as Hanma went to tackle Mikey who held him still. Both had to let go if one of them wanted to land a hit; they took a step back and Hanma, in a crazed-haze, grinned, “How many did you do? I’m barely 3, maybe 4 in? But you…” He huffed in amazement, “You’re this fucked up… what is it, 10 now?”

Mikey didn’t budge, he stood still.

“More? Less? Oh, more.” Utter disbelief laced his chuckle, “And this is the one you wanna stay in, huh?” As if he had struck a nerve once more, Mikey went for him again, kicking him in the face. Hanma leaned away, almost falling, but he looked back at the blond with his smile never leaving his face. “You know what, sure. My conditions are the same, but now I’m intrigued. Can’t wait to discover what this one has that the others don’t!” He exclaimed in elation.

He then gave a mischievous smile at Mikey, “If I’m feeling like it, who knows,” He shrugged, “I might fuck around, show you that their happiness is actually relying on one thing.” He spelled out the last two words, his index raised as emphasis. He then pointed it at himself, “Me.”

With a knowing smile, he exhaled, “Anyway, I got all night.”

And they had indeed fought through the entire night. It did end in a tie, not that any of them remembered. It had been so long ago, their memories long since filled by many experiences.

All of this had led to Hanma being in this position, which he never truly hated. He never worked well in a team, taking care of bodies meant he could make sure the job was done and he didn’t have to rely on any of these fuckers. They relied on him. He could mess things up and put it all on them, not that he would. He couldn’t care less.

Wiping some sweat from his forehead, he finished putting all the body parts in acid—all he had to do was let time do its thing, he could go home and shower while this was being done. He made sure to text the guy responsible for throwing this shit away then tossed his equipment in a bag, taking it with him on the way out.

With his phone still out, he checked the time and exhaled, she better have replied.

When he saw no reply had come from her, he thought of the only person she could be with.

He called Sanzu again, the man picking up in annoyance, “What?”

“Is she at your place?”

“For fuck’s sake, did you lose her? How far could she–” He took a deep breath, “I’ll call and see.”

Hanma liked those kinds of conversations—short, efficient, practical. It took Sanzu two minutes to reply, and yet, hours in and his girl still hadn’t—once he knew she was at the man’s place, it’s as if she was taunting him, as if she knew he had been made aware of her location.

His phone dinged with a text from her, an attachment. Of course.

The moment he saw the picture of her bruised body—fresh bruises, at that—he was becoming enraged. He couldn’t care less about those he had brought onto her, it showed she was his; hell, he took pride in the marks from their fun time, but the ones on her forearms and throat weren’t his. He called her immediately. As he watched the screen with expectation, his ire dissipated and it was replaced with simple annoyance.

She did not pick up.

“Whatever, I got other shit to do.” If she wanted to play that game of chase, he would make her wait for it. She could be patient and let him get home, shower and sleep; in the end, she was at Sanzu’s and while the man could be a shithead at times, he knew he could trust him the most, for what it was worth. So Hanma drove home.

Upon reaching his place, the door was wide open and unlocked, the place a mess. He dropped his bag and lit a cigarette between his teeth, “She wasn’t lying, huh.” He walked around the place, kicking stuff over, trying to understand what had happened exactly. When he saw the cable of the lamp detached, he grinned, “That’s my girl.” He picked it up and could see teeth marks on it, “Damn man,” He addressed the bagged, dead body, “Needed a chew toy or something?” He tossed the cable on the bags and locked his door, “Don’t move, ‘kay? I’ll get the shit.”

Instead of being extra careful as he had earlier, he grabbed a bigger bag and shoved the man in, making sure nothing was leaking. He dropped it outside his apartment door and texted Mikey.

H.: Shibata at my place, bait? Threat? Come pick up.

M.: 👍

Too many words and the blond wouldn’t read, all Hanma did was tell him he had resources. They could do a lot with a dead Shibata member, whether they wanted Hanma to get rid of it tomorrow or use it as a threat, he truly didn’t care as long as it got out of his way. He didn’t want a decomposing body in his living room. The stench of drying blood was far enough.

Once the text was done, he went and showered.

He realized it was much faster without his girl around, without having to calm her, to talk to her over and over so she wouldn’t get reminded of whatever it was that got her so traumatized. Sometimes he thought it could have been their night out in the cemetery in their early days, but it couldn’t have been that—the rain was cold, the shower wasn’t. Plus, she had always been keen on breakdowns in showers, maybe it was just an old thing. Ultimately, it was probably not that deep.

Considering the last message he had received from her was a picture of herself in Sanzu’s bathroom, he assumed she’d be safe. If anything, he’ll get a call from her in the middle of the night telling him she wanted to get home and he’ll go get her, but if she wanted to stay there she was more than welcome. It meant he could get a restful night's sleep.

Although, it seemed it was harder to fall asleep without her weight beside him. He didn’t really know if that was the reason, he wasn’t aware he had gotten used to her presence—but he had. All he did was twist and turn in his sleep, not even needing to pull the blanket over himself since she wasn’t there to pull it to her side.

He had come back late, gone to bed even later, and with hours upon hours of tossing in bed, he finally sat up and looked at the alarm by his bed.

Seeing it was 7 in the morning, he threw the blanket over and got up, “Headache over headache, this fucking woman.” He walked to his wardrobe and grabbed a loose pair of sweatpants with an even looser shirt since he wasn’t planning on doing shit today except for teaching her some common sense. Or making her look for a new place, his mind was too foggy and exhausted to do it, not to mention it would keep her busy.

With a sigh, he made himself some instant noodles and slurped them so fast that if one blinked, they would have thought they’d disappeared. Fancy food was fun as a one time thing here and there, but there was nothing like a quick meal, he wasn’t gonna get into all that rich people shit. He only ever got this place so the other executives stopped complaining about the reputation it would give them, if people knew one of Bonten’s most important people lived in a ‘dump’, as they called it. He never even made this place his place, no trinkets, no pictures, nothing—all he had were his clothes, some papers in some drawers and that was it. He was ready to leave at any time.

This was all temporary, he knew to remember. Everything could change, whether he wanted to or not.

So why would he settle? He was all too aware of the target on his head every day of his life amidst those people. Not being liked was one thing, knowing one wrong move could be a valid argument to get him considered a traitor was another. And now he couldn’t risk that. He was never going to voice those thoughts that sometimes plagued his mind, but risking his life for stupid mistakes now meant risking hers and he had put too much work into shaping her into who she was to make it all go down the drain.

Once he was done eating, he rinsed his bowl and left it in the sink before taking a proper look at the room he had come home to late in the night hours. Broken table, tipped over couch, hole in the wall—this one was more annoying just cause he was renting this place. There was no way he would buy anything, that was maybe Koko’s shit, not his.

Running his thumb over the hole, he felt there was still a bullet lodged in it and grabbed a knife to pluck it out, “Now that’s interesting…” He hummed to himself before bringing it under the light of the counter in the kitchen, “Might tell us more of who the fuck you are…” He trailed off, grabbing a universal clamp from the drawer as he opened the bullet to see its insides. While he disliked guns and was prone to not using them if he could, he still went out of his way to learn about them—not only to learn their efficiency, that is if Mikey ever forced him to use one, but above all because if the shooter was smart enough, or experienced enough, they would make their own bullets. For the weight, the speed, everything.

And this very bullet on his counter was homemade.

It had whatever that asshole’s signature was; with a bit of brute force, he managed to open the shell and spilled out all the powder from it. He was pleasantly surprised to see something else amidst the dark dust that painted his counter, “Now what do we have here?” Bringing it closer to his eye, he smirked. This was a first.

It was the first time he had had someone attempting to bug his apartment, and in the worst possible manner too. The bug in his hand was small enough to fit in a sniper cartridge, which admittedly was not an amazing feat, but a creative one for sure.

“Kinda dumb if you ask me, but we appreciate the attempt, bye.” Then he crushed the bug with the pliers he used to open the cartridge and tossed it in a bowl, adding some oil and throwing in a match only to watch the small fire that had set burn the plastic and metal away. If his measures were too extreme, Hanma didn’t care. All he cared about was that it was thorough, he wouldn’t want to let them get the upper hand just because he was not meticulous enough.

In other words, better safe than sorry.

He had watched the plastic melt slowly, his brain giving him nothing but the pure elation of getting them at their own game. Hanma had woken up—if he had even slept that night—in a bad mood, but this had him reeling, excited. The games this foolish gang was playing were surely going to entertain him. 

When the fire had died out, he poured some water in the bowl and tossed it back in the sink.

He’d call whatever losers were available for cleaning duty and get his place fixed the best he could, until then he had to get his girl back from the crackhead’s den. Throwing on his jacket, he grabbed his keys and pack of cigarettes and left his place—locking it seemed futile now, so he left it as it was and got to his car without much worry.

Hanma never truly ventured into deep thinking, not more than needed because it was a rabbit hole that could swallow you hole—something his girl had yet to understand. But he did notice his thoughts diverted back to her more often than necessary. Even on solo errands, he would sometimes just text her, see what she was up to, and check that none of the Haitanis had done anything.

While he knew he could take on both the brothers without breaking a sweat would it not be considered treason, he never really trusted Ran. Whatever that bastard set his eyes on could never last. Some would argue that if other people looked at your partner it meant they were attractive, but Ran’s eyes were void of all that emotional shit. He saw good in people. Everyone loved to play abstraction, to ignore that the brothel owner started his ascension amidst the ranks through one big business.

Human trafficking.

Sure, Hanma was never going to help any of those people, and he could also ignore all the shady shit—hell, he killed people for a living. What kind of hypocritical man would he be to judge whatever any of them were doing? And above all, he never gave much thought about it all as it was, but seeing Ran’s eyes settle on her had him boiling up with rage, just because he knew the man saw the possibility of sellable goods. That was a certainty when almost two years ago the bastard had visited her at her place and tried to have his way with her. Hanma was gripping his steering wheel tightly, huffing a short laugh to himself, “He could have never taken care of you, not the way I am…”

Speaking to himself was embarrassing, he knew that, but who else would understand him? He was not crying about it, he was not complaining either, it was not that important. All he knew was that only one person ever scraped the surface of understanding him before her, only one person had managed to graze the way his brain functioned—and now, even if his sole friend was gone, he had her. 

Losing her was not an option. He knew it was a weak spot, but he also knew he had grown somewhat attached to her presence, and there was nothing he could do about it. What Mikey had said years ago now played too big a part in this entire situation, things had changed compared to that night the smaller man had come begging for him to join Bonten. Hanma didn’t like the new side she had brought on that much, it had gotten too out of control for his liking. 

He had to stir her back to her lane or shit would blow up.

And he was not the only one aware of that—when he knocked on Sanzu’s apartment door, he heard something falling, then heavy footsteps before the door was unlocked and opened wide. Hanma threw the pink-haired man a mocking smile as he rose an eyebrow, “You look like shit, had a fight with your girl–”

“I’m holding back from fighting yours, so get your ass inside and take her out of here.” Sanzu spat, pissed off. Tiredness was written all over his face, and Hanma understood why when he saw the single pillow and blanket over the couch; the man clearly had slept there through the night. Sanzu was not known to be stoic, he would wear his emotions on his sleeve without much fear, but the one most people had seen him wear was one of devotion. He was somewhat keen on extremes, why be loyal to Mikey if he could devote his life to him? Why love Shiho if he could be one with her? Their lives were now entangled in more ways than one, somehow like Hanma’s and hers were.

Hanma looked at the scarred man, “She was here for just one night, it can’t be that bad.” He laughed.

“I was this close to gagging her in her fucking sleep.” He complained, closing the door behind Hanma. While the host had greeted him with a sort of rush, he still guided him to the kitchen—the one room that was at the opposite side of the bedroom. Sanzu grabbed himself a cup full of coffee as he took a gulp, “I would’ve heard from Shiho if your girl’s had nightmares before, which means they just started, right? I’m not her doctor and frankly I couldn’t care less—but I know the tells.” He was solemn, and while it was not rare to see him serious, he was now meeting Hanma’s gaze for some untold understanding.

The taller man poured himself a cup; he never really liked the taste, but he needed something to wake him up. The lack of errands today meant a lack of adrenaline coursing through his veins. “It’s under control.” He thought, all too aware to not let slip anything Sanzu could use.

He only blinked as the ceramic cup that once was in the pink-haired man’s hand was set on the counter with a loud clatter, that now free hand grabbing Hanma by the collar, “Bullshit! Fucking bullshit, I don’t have to explain the domino effect of your actions, do I?!”

Oh, this was personal. The tweaks he was planning on doing meant changing what Sanzu had worked on with his master. Mad Dog was more of a scared puppy than anything right now.

Hanma kept his cool and grinned mockingly at the man desperately trying to shake some sense into him, “I told him I might fuck around at some point,” He paused and gripped the back of the man’s hair, “Now is the point.” He gritted through his teeth.

When Sanzu let go, Hanma did too.

“You’re fucking insane, we know what this can do to someone,” He waved his hands in front of him, “All that shit!” He was distraught, his speech much faster than usual, less composed than how it would be, were he by Mikey’s side. Taking a few more sips of his coffee, he looked back at Hanma, “It’s starting for her. And there’s nothing you’ll be able to do about it if you keep going out of your way to–”

Hanma scoffed, “She’s been having nightmares since killing her stupid friend, she’s fine.”

“I’m not a fucking idiot, I know she’s yours the way I’m Mikey’s. I know the effects more than you fucking would, stop your bullshit right now or–”

“Or what? Or your plans with Mikey will go off the rails? I really couldn’t care less. You know it’s not gonna change much. If anything, it could be good for you.” Hanma smirked before theatrically hitting the heel of his hand to the side of his head, “Ah, shit! Nah, my bad, it’ll only really change the way it happened, I’ll make sure not to mess up your plans too much! That’s safe, don’t worry.” A somber look dawned on the host; he clenched his teeth and gripped the other man’s collar once more to face him from up close, “Get her and get out.”

Hanma raised both his hands in comical defense, “Don’t mind if I do, this place reeks like a druggie den.” He teased, making Sanzu call out in offense that still, somehow, he kept his place cleaner than any of theirs, adding that Hanma should stop being a dick. As the taller man opened the door to the bedroom and was faced with the two women sleeping comfortably on the bed, he glanced at his girl, then Sanzu’s before grabbing the latter’s ankle and dragging her out.

She woke up with a yelp as she caught herself with her arms, avoiding her head from hitting the bed frame, “Fuck, what the fuck—what are you doing?!”

“Get out.”

Her eyes widened as she scrambled to her feet and rushed out of the room. 

Watching her leave, Hanma felt no ounce of regret upon treating her as he did. He had never understood why Sanzu liked her. She was all too lively and addiction-prone clearly was not something he looked for in his girl. They had found themselves, two sad-looking people, with just as sad prospects in life. He sometimes wondered if she knew she could never come close to the importance Mikey had to Sanzu, it was not his place to tell her, and if she knew then it only made her even more ridiculous.

Looking back at his girl, Hanma sat on the side of the bed and almost smiled at how peaceful she looked. Not from liking to see her as such, but from knowing how fast this expression would fall from her face when she would open her eyes.

He caressed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand, “Wakey wakey.” He said mockingly. She stirred in her sleep but did not react much from how gentle his tone was. Instead of repeating himself, he gripped her jaw tight and turned her head to him, “I said wake the fuck up.” Her eyes widened in shock.

Just like he wanted them.

She tried to sit up, her arms already at her sides but he tutted her and straddled her lap, “Don’t panic like that, you wanted this, right?” He cooed, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. He couldn’t help but smile to himself at the sight before leaning in and ghosting his lips over her, “Why are you sobbing already? They’ll hear you, is that what you want?”

As if those were magic words, he felt her kiss him in desperation, “I can be quiet.” Her hands stumbled automatically trying to unbutton his shirt only to feel fabric; confused, she looked down and noticed he was wearing a simple shirt, “Take off your jacket.” She breathed out, making Hanma laugh as he pushed her deeper into the bed, “Think for a second and repeat those words.” Watching her think of what she did wrong, he saw her gaze settle on something behind him before back to him, “I’m sorry, please take it off, I need–”

“You need to keep your mouth shut, I’ll do the talking.”

She nodded, he slowly unbuttoned her pajamas and exposed her chest and stomach before pressing his thumb into the fresh bruises, “Did you think it was smart to show these to me?” It only made her laugh breathlessly as she gripped his hand tight and pressed it further into her skin, “It got me excited to no fucking end.” She gritted through her teeth, pained, aroused—two familiar feelings that should only rarely mix, and yet had ended up being the only match for her to get off. 

Looking down at her, Hanma couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm she was giving him. He wanted to mark her as his even if no one would see it. They were not allowed to see all of it, but he would know that the way he had branded her was enough to deter anyone who would even catch a glimpse of her. 

Only he could want her, she was his perfect fit.

Chuckling without a sound, he kissed her stomach and looked up at her, “D’ya want me to fuck you right here?” He kissed up her chest before stopping to her lips, “Right now?” 

She nodded, kissing him all too aggressively, her teeth clashing against his before digging into his lips, “Yeah.” Her eyes were distant, looking to the side, immediately closing as she resumed kissing him. He would have given her whatever she wanted had she not needed to be disciplined for acting out for no reason. Hanma needed to exercise some restraint as he pulled her head back by gripping her scalp tight, “I’m more of a taker than a giver, it must suck, huh?” Just like that, he threw her back on the bed, a moan escaping her lips at the burning pain on her scalp. Hanma stood up and towered over her laying form, enjoying all too much the sight of his girl so vulnerable, “Do you think you’re smart, doll?”

Her heart stopped, she looked at him with wide eyes, prey eyes.

His toothy grin showed, “So we both agree you were fucking stupid for running outta the house, yeah?”

She nodded silently.

“Hey, hey,” He cooed softly, his hand back to her chin as he lifted it forcefully, “Fucking words.”

“Yes. I needed you, you weren’t there.”

He smiled, “So you thought…?”

Her gaze avoided his for a second as her face heated up, soon she whispered back, “I thought it’d make you come–”

“Come crawling back to you?” He inquired, his head tilted to the side mockingly, “Oh doll, this,” He pointed at the both of them, “This isn’t what this is. You really thought you would have me begging?” He continued, pausing for dramatic effect as his hand splayed on her cheek, cradling her face. It was always so good to him to see her lean into his touch. He knew he still had her when she would, he knew she was still desperately in need of him for reassurance. Gently, her hand placed on his, he smiled sweetly.

As she looked up at him with those doe eyes she thought would have him swooning, he knew she was going to do something she would regret. Her head leaned into his chest as her hands left his and hooked onto the waistband of his pants, “I can make you feel good, I’m sorry for stressing you out.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and his hand flew to her throat before slamming her to the bed, “Now’s not the time, now’s not fun.” He gritted through his teeth, his thumb digging under her chin painfully, “I need you to understand how fucking reckless that was.”

She grinned, “Were you worried?”

His mouth opened only slightly, hidden behind his scoff, “Less words it is—and not one fucking sound.” As he said so, he pushed her panties aside and slid in a few fingers, “There, there now I got you focused, huh?” He breathed out, barely above a whisper.

Seeing her eyes manically fly to the door had him hard but he wasn’t going to fuck her here, still could he enjoy her panic. What if they got caught? Then he could fuck her in front of them—he needed to focus. “Bad guy in the house.” He started, his fingers thrusting in and out of her just how she liked it, just enough to have her panting with her mouth wide open behind her hand, “Bad guy dead. Fight noisy!” One hard thrust, “People curious!” He made a fake sad face, more pouting mockingly than anything, “People call pigs, pigs come to the house to see dead body! Not good, not good.”

He then pauses and looks at her as if he had an enlightenment, “If you were there, you would not let pigs in! Dead body not caught.” He then frowns again, his fingers still inside her as he watches her try to make him fuck her, her hand gripping his wrist to have him thrust again, “You even fucking–” he started thrusting back inside her with much more force, “You even fucking walked outta there in the open knowing there was a fucking sniper, how braindead can you be? Huh?” He felt her tightening around him and pulled out immediately, placing her panties back in position as he dried his fingers on her open shirt, “Ya needa learn to think, cause I won’t always be there.”

She suddenly sat up, buttoning her shirt, “What do you mean? Are you—are you leaving me?”

He gave her a look that said she was insane, but inside he was in awe at how fast she was to come to that conclusion, “You’re a big girl, Mikey will send you on shit alone’s what I mean.”

It dawned on her. A soft ‘oh’ escaped her lips in realization, she did not know what to say. Instead of waiting for her reply, he stood up—she immediately took his hands in hers. She seemed completely different, as if their session was enough to clear her mind. A short laugh escaped her lips as she placed his hands on her hips, “I messed up, I’m sorry. You’re right.” looking down, she huffed another laugh, “I was dazed, I really… I don’t know what I thought. Shit, it’s embarrassing,” When she finally looked back at him, he felt the air change but did not pay any mind. Instead, he stared intently, “The apartment isn’t safe anymore, is it?” These were the first coherent words that were directed at him.

Hanma nodded, “Yeah, we gotta move out. It’ll be fast, we don’t have much to take from there anyway.”

While they were making their way to the door, it suddenly burst open with Sanzu frowning as he glared at the two of them, “Both of you, out.” Despite his visible ire, he’d still let them finish their discussion before kicking them out. Ever the polite son of a bitch. He let the woman walk out first and intercepted Hanma by the collar, “And don’t you fucking disrespect my girl under my own damn roof, is that clear?” He gritted through his teeth. It was one thing to give The Reaper private time to talk with his woman, but boundaries and respect needed to be set—in general, as a concept Hanma did not seem to abide by much, but also as something that should have been given to him for the sake of how long they had known each other. The constant talking-down of Shiho was something the pink-haired man never thought he would grow to despise almost as much as he did when someone disrespected Mikey.

Looking up at the maniac he was gripping tight, Sanzu felt anger boil in the pit of his stomach and immediately let go of Hanma, pushing him as he did so before pointing at the door. The taller man made sure to nudge the scarred one on the way, “Sure thing, enjoy your days together–” He covered his mouth mockingly, “Day. My bad!”

This one was earned. The punch Hanma received from Sanzu was deserved. It was fast, it was sudden and unexpected to both women in the room, but Hanma only brought his fingers to his cut lip with a half-grin, “Struck a nerve?” He asked teasingly.

Instead of replying, Sanzu reached for his katana—he knew he was not planning on using it, but Hanma raised both of his hands in theatrical defense, “Bit dramatic, aren’t we? We’re leaving, don’t worry.”

“Get your act together soon, we both know it won’t end well if you keep that shit up.”

Those words left the two women confused, the one by the door made a mental note to ask Hanma about it once they were out, but she was quick to forget when he mentioned moving out again. Instead, they got to the car and as she fastened her seatbelt, she hummed, “To be honest, I think it’ll be good to leave your place, not only is it super elevated–”

“Yeah, to avoid break-ins, but clearly that didn’t work.”

She gave him a playful glare, “But also, your house is so cold it kinda feels spooky at times, you know?”

Hanma laughed, “Oh yeah, it’s haunted.” He said jokingly, unaware of how close he was to the truth, “Maybe it’s gotta do with the dead doorman, or the girl you killed in the hall. They’re visiting us or something.” He added, laughing even more—the woman next to him joined a bit more shyly, her eyes stuck on the rear-view mirror before focusing on her phone.

“You can look shit up for the new place, I couldn’t care less where we’re moving.” He said more calmly now as his eyes remained on the road. Sure, his place was a mess, but it was just material possessions. Bonten could cover whatever expenses he could have, but he’d rather let Koko deal with whatever finance shit needed to be dealt with. “Well, I don’t care either, as long as I’m with you.”

“Babe, just look up whatever, okay? I’ll try have Koko rush shit today or tomorrow so we can move out fast.” He threw her a glance before placing his hand on her thigh. He fought with himself for a moment, should he say those words or not? They were the truth if they were to come out, but he didn’t like saying them—at the same time, she went through shit and she did pull through quite well.

His grip tightened, “You didn’t do as bad as I thought you would last night. We’ll work on your…” He raised a brow, “Emotional instability, I guess? Did he start the fight?”

She shook her head, “No, he—he poked at me, he mocked me and disrespected me so I… ran to him and–”

Hanma patted her thigh, holding back a growing smile, “Yeah, okay, you went off like a ticking bomb, that’s fine. Don’t think Mikey will like it much–” He felt her tense. She made sure to hide how she feared that statement of his, because if Mikey knew she wasn’t the best she could be, he could throw her out. In the split second this happened, Hanma continued, “But he won’t know if you fix that attitude, right?”

She grabbed his hand and turned to face him while he drove, “Maybe if he hadn’t been a fucking dick, I wouldn’t have killed him.”

“Don’t think I’ve killed the Haitanis yet, did I?” Hanma stated. 

She went silent and sat back down properly, now lost in thought, “You’re right. I’ll try to be more like you—though I think we could still take care of the Haitanis.” She commented, replying to a text she had received from Shiho in the meantime. Her words had made Hanma huff a laugh, “We? Don’t think you could take them on, babe.”

It was her turn to raise a brow as she looked at him with a smirk, “I think I almost did once, don’t you remember?”

“We’re better off forgetting, ya were insane then.” He shook his head shortly, laughing under his breath, “My girl drugging the Ran Haitani, that was something I never thought would happen ‘til it did.”

When she placed her hands on his thighs, about to ask him if it had turned him on, the car stopped as they parked in front of their building. Hanma grabbed her chin and made her look up, tutting her, “Were you ‘bout to suck my dick while I was driving?”

“If you had let me, yeah.”

It would’ve been a lie if he’d said that he hadn’t considered letting her do it right then or if he’d said he hadn’t considered starting the car again just for the thrill of her mouth around his cock while he was speeding on a highway. Instead, he roughly pulled her lower lip down with his thumb, “Should have been faster, now we’re both missing out.” He told her, the closeness had her body heating up in seconds. It always amazed her how cars brought such intimacy with ease and she enjoyed it. “We got shit to do today, come on.” Hanma let go of her without throwing her a second glance, unaware of the emotions that were fighting inside her head. Should she feel hurt he hadn’t let her? Or should she feel proud that there was some sprinkle of hurt in his eyes from not having time for fun like this?

Her thoughts did not matter, once they got to the apartment, she changed to something more adequate for the day to come.

“Koko doesn’t do real estate, but he does handle the money shit. Mocchi’s the one we gotta go to for a new place.” Hanma stated once he leaned by the door of the bedroom after checking around the place for anyone that could have sneaked in, “I already contacted both, so we gotta get to the big guy’s company in a bit, it gives us time to…” He shrugged, bringing a cigarette to his lips, “Work on whatever got you worked up enough that you had to kill the guy, right?”

Looking right into the wardrobe, she laughed, “You should also get changed, you’re too casual for that–”

“Are you ignoring me right now?”

“It’s kind of Bonten-related, you wouldn’t want them to think you’re underdressed and disrespectful.” She was speaking faster and faster, Hanma grabbed her hands from the clothes she was looking through and let go immediately when he saw her mouth turn into a thin line as her words came to a halt.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, getting the cigarette away from his mouth as he puffed out the smoke and looked down at her with his jaw clenched, so easily pissed off from something so simple.

She sighed, “Am I allowed to–” she paused, the words she wanted to let out would raise suspicions, it would have him worried, she couldn’t have that. Instead, she met his eyes and smiled, “I’m just nervous, it feels like it’s my fault we need to get a new place—they already don’t like me that much, you know? Not that I care anymore, but I know it’s not gonna do any good if they know–”

Smirking, Hanma brought the cigarette back to his lips, took a drag and blew the smoke in her face, “Do I look like a fucking snitch, doll?” She needed reassurance, he could see it, and if he could not tell her it would be alright—not only because it could never be a sure thing, but also because shit could also go bad at any point—he could still smooth-talk. Ghosting his lips over hers, he felt her hold her breath as it hitched in her throat, “It ain’t a lie to tell ‘em those Shibata assholes broke in and fucked shit up,” He whispered before scoffing a laugh, head tilted, teasing her for a kiss, “Yeah, you broke a lamp and shit, but the place ain’t safe no matter what. Broken furniture or not, they know where we are.” His hand that held the cigarette between two fingers tilted her head slightly back.

He then kissed her tenderly. Her heart swooned but her mind scratched like a disk. His eyes measured as his hands manipulated.

Something felt off, they both knew it.

He was determined to fix the mess he had created, no matter the cost.

She was determined to fit in his world, no matter what.

Without even speaking it, they both agreed they could not worry the other, so they smiled with that same passion they used to have. She was the first one to speak, “If you wanna know, he disrespected me for the woman I was and I couldn’t tolerate that.” She laughed and pushed Hanma playfully, “I had to show him I was not helpless and stupid.”

Turning around to find some clothes, she said under her breath, “You made me who I am today,” She couldn’t be more right, Hanma thought with a short smile to himself, “I couldn’t let him insult your work, could I?” She continued. It had made him hum in satisfaction as he crushed the cigarette in the ashtray by the bed and joined her again to grab a specific item he liked and hand it to her, “Should I dress up my pretty doll today then?”

Smirking, she closed the wardrobe and grabbed what he had given her, pressing it to her chest as she met his gaze playfully, “Aren’t we domestic like this?” Her hand slid over his chest slowly, he kept his mouth shut watching her as her hand wrapped around his throat and her thumb caressed his jawline, “New place calls for celebration right?” She continued, kissing down his jaw before finally whispering, “So pick the outfit you wanna fuck me in once we get there, I’ll pick yours.”

“Doll, if I pick your outfit I can’t promise I won’t fuck you right now.”

She hooked her finger to the collar of his t-shirt and pulled down, laughing slightly, “Restraints are hot–” She turned around, “I mean, restraint is hot. We’ll see how long you last, and once we get our new place…” She trailed off, picking her favorite suit of Hanma’s, handing it to him, “We’ll have to baptize every fucking room, right?”

Smiling with mischievousness, Hanma hung the suit on the wardrobe door and grabbed some clothes of hers too, the bodysuit he had handed her moments ago in hand, “I’ll know you have that underneath, they don’t need to, though.”

Pouting mockingly, she put on the lingerie slowly, “But it’s so cute, you sure you don’t want them to see it?” 

Handing her the shirt, she put it on and buttoned it just enough to let the lace peek. She grabbed the pants and tucked the shirt in, then slid her vest on, “Like a mini you, except one of us is much more fuckable right now.” She teased, nodding at the suit hanging on the door.

Hanma did not move and looked down at her with a certain hunger in his eyes while tossing his shirt and pants aside. His eyes never left hers while he mimicked her actions, getting dressed. She enjoyed the sight more than she would admit; even if she had barely gotten a taste of domesticity all these years, considering the situation they were in, she liked the little she could get of it.

Once he was dressed, he grabbed her collar with a certain delicacy, then his deft fingers buttoned one more button, “I said, they don’t see it.”

“But then how am I supposed to work you up?” She pleaded teasingly as she undid the button, “Much more fun like that.”

Shaking his head, Hanma turned around and huffed a dry laugh, “Your funeral, let’s go.” He grabbed his shoes on the way, letting her hurry behind him with hers. It felt like the good old days to act like this, but the woman could not ignore the fact that she was never alone. No matter how hard she tried, she would come back.

Maybe there could be a way to get rid of her for good.

“By the way, don’t mention Mocchi’s divorce, it’s hard on the guy.”

Humming softly, she hurried and walked past him, “I genuinely couldn’t care less, come on, I’m excited now!”

Maybe he didn’t mess up that much, Hanma thought to himself as he watched her happily walk in front of him.

[Part 4]

[physicalturian]

Masterlist - [18+] Salvaged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader

[The plot of this work follows previous works in this series] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [Varied POV/chapter]

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I will try to update every 2 or 3 weeks, with work and all + length of chapter + betaing, your gals are slaying hard

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Summary : Can love conquer destiny? Can feelings stir anyone from a path that is set for them? I am meant to turn out like this. I cannot change anymore. Everything will only go downhill from now. I just hope he will catch me…

RECURRENT WARNINGS : Explicit! / Blood / Injuries / Guns / Graphic depiction of violence / Crying / Trauma / PTSD / Canon-typical violence / Sexual content / Dubious Ethics

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Chapter 1 - AO3

Chapter 2 - AO3

Chapter 3 - AO3

Chapter 4 - AO3

Chapter 5 - AO3

Chapter 6 - AO3

Chapter 7 - AO3

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