PROLOGUE

Five days of torrential rain relentlessly crushing Japan. Slamming the shore lines with explosive waves, setting the urban towns awash with mud, and flooding the streets with filthy water. It was one of the worst storm surges in the year, and was responsible for many articles in the obituaries for the days to come. It was predicted nearly a week ago, but nobody was quite prepared for how severe it actually was. Even the sky was locked into eternal night, the clouds blotting out every remnant of moonlight.

Today was the third day in a week long onslaught. Niigata was thankfully one of the few large cities receiving only a fraction of the storms power. It was, of course, still soaked down to its infrastructure. When the sewers grew too bloated with trash and water, it spilled out onto the streets in mass.

Rain smacked into the sides of the tall buildings with dull dings, and shallow puddles controlled the sidewalks and roads. The wind howled through the cramped corners and paths the sprawling city created, deepening the ominous emptiness permeating the once filled streets.

Nature was in full force on the eastern continent, a cold chill cut through the near silent streets and the lone soul racing down them. The sharp rapping of shoes on the wet concrete was clear through the roaring storm, the sound of laboured breathing accompanying them as the figure rushed through the deluge.

His arms flung water as they swung to match his fervent, reckless pace. The rain and wind struck him hard, yet the figure did not slow in the slightest; only pausing every now and then to brush a soaked strand of black hair from his eyes or to reorient himself.

An alleyway appeared at the corner, and he slammed into it and took the shortcut it offered. Under the cover of darkness, he ducked and dodged under the fast swinging store signs, and slipped through and around the tight corners in the shopping district. Normally, this would be impossible. The thick throngs of people made walking a chore in the day to day of life, let alone the pace he had set. If nothing else, the storm had succeeded in aiding him to this end. With the more sane individuals taking shelter indoors, he was free to race to his heart's content.

Suddenly, he came to an abrupt halt. His shoes shrilly squealed as he slid to a stop, a flourish of water drifting into the saturated air as he finally ended his race. The boy's shoulders heaved as he stared upward at the towering structure in front of him. The complex was nestled into a particularly unassuming corner of the city, where all the buildings were closely pushed together and gave off a sense of claustrophobia. The white building sat between two other similar 400 meter buildings, its efficient architecture giving them the appearance of trees- growing into each other at the tops.

The windows of the office building shot beams of light down into the street, bathing the figure on the street. He stared upward at the building, his grey eyes locking onto the highest window. All was still for a moment as a lull in the storm formed. The endless rain eased into a slow drizzle, the wind growled lowly instead of howling. It was somehow peaceful, even if it was the farthest thing from it.

That moment was broken when the boy's hands suddenly clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles loudly popping. The storm slammed back into a frenzy, and he marched resolutely toward the glass doors of the office building.

The doors slid open silently, making way for him as he strode in and shutting just as quietly behind him. The roar of the storm dropped, now muffled behind the concrete walls. Warm air overtook the chill of the cold, the faint scent of mandarin filling the room. There was no more haste in his movements, but the dangerous tilt at the corner of his thin lips and the harsh rapping of his heels along the tiled floor were telling enough.

The area was only given a single glance. White floors, white walls, and boring furniture scattered about. A foyer no different than that of a hotel, if more clinical and stifling than one would usually be.

His arrival did not go unnoticed, two peoples heads perked up at his approach, their surprise at a visitor in the middle of such a storm was palpable. The two men all appeared Japanese, wore matching matte suits, and had their hair slicked aside like a salaryman's. Slowly they eased away from their various states of relaxation and approached the newcomer, slyly blocking off the row of elevators at the end of the foyer.

The tallest of them eyed the approaching intruder critically, eyeing him up and down. His frown deepened when he realized that it was just a kid; a high-schooler from the looks of it. Tall, but unmistakably youthful in face.

The kid wore a charcoal black suit, open, over a partially buttoned white shirt. His bland dress shoes were covered in scuffs and scratches, and his black slacks had mud stains all along the ankles. Normally a suit, even one so informally worn, would be out of place on someone so young, but he managed to pull it off surprisingly well- he wearing the suit, instead of the other way around.

His frizzy mess of black hair was waterlogged, clinging to his wet skin along with his soaked clothing like glue. Already puddles had begun to form where the water dripped from his body in a steady stream. The storm had not been kind to him out there, yet there was no sign of shake or shiver from the cold that no doubt clung to him.

Around his neck was a thin silver chain, and clinging to his wrist was a fancy watch that seemed to cost more than the rest of his clothing. But what caught the man's eye the most was the small, innocuous silver and red pin on the lapel of his suit.

He shook off his thoughts easily, lazily ambling to the arrival, "Hey, I get that its rough out there kiddo, but this is private property. You can't just waltz in here." The kid gave no sign that he heard him, and only continued stomping forward. The salaryman stepped to the side, preemptively blocking him. "Sorry, but this ain't a hotel. You're gonna have to turn a 180 and get your ass back in that storm before we-"

Before the man knew it, he was flat on his face on the floor. His eyes were wild and confused as he tenderly pressed a hand to his ragged cheek, and licked at the section of his lip he accidentally bit off. Spots danced across his vision, and for a moment he thought he had woken from a bad, liquor-induced dream. Wiping a hand across his nose he was shocked when it came back smeared with blood.

'He punched me?' He thought numbly to himself.

Before the salaryman could even begin to recover, the kid rushed him down and delivered a powerful soccer kick directly into his ribs- folding him like a chair and launching him into the nearby reception desk hard. He bounced off the desk and rolled to the floor unconscious, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull.

"You brat!" The other man rushed toward him, slinging his fist at the kid with wild abandon for his fallen comrade. But, without missing a beat, he slipped underneath the punch and delivered his own savage strike directly into the man's stomach. His entire body locked up for a moment and his eyes flew wide as he staggered to the side and collapsed, clutching at his stomach while prostrating. A pitiful moan left his mouth as he shivered against the floor.

The lobby was once more silent. With the two incapacitated, the kid moved back toward the elevators while shaking off his hair like a dog. Jabbing the elevator button, he rotated his shoulders and cracked his knuckles a few times for good measure. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a rotating CCTV camera pointed directly at the two unconscious goons and knew that the element of surprise was no longer an option.

Then again, he wanted them to know he was coming.

The elevator doors slid open and he stepped in, pressing the button for the highest floor as he took up position in the center of the elevator. With barely even a hitch, the elevator began its ascent, an uncomfortably jolly song playing over the speakers all the while.

"...?"

The elevator crawled to a halt. The teen glanced up at the LED display and noticed that he was still a few floors under where he was supposed to be getting off. He looked back down just in time to find the elevator doors opening.

Immediately he threw himself to the side, barely dodging the suited goon that pounced into the open elevator. The man followed after him, lunging for his throat, but stopped short when the sole of the boy's loafer slammed into his chest and knocked him back into the elevator wall.

The two took a moment to recover, glaring daggers at each other before the goon lunged back into the fray with swinging fists. For once the kid grunted in pain, a wide strike slugging him along his cheek and throwing him into the wall. But he easily shook it off, pushed off the wall, and returned the favor by slamming his shoulder straight into the goon's solar plexus.

The man could only take two more punches before he frantically lunged at the kid with a strike that he easily sidestepped. Immediately, the kid snatched him by the collar of his suit and pulled him toward him and off balance.

X

The goon cried out as the kid tightened his grip and swung him around like a sack of rocks. Once, twice, and on the third one, the kid released him and sent him hurtling face first into the back of the elevator. There was a heavy clang as tender flesh met hard steel. The man groaned in anguish as he toppled backward onto the floor.

Without wasting a moment, he jabbed the 'close door' button on the array, and watched as the elevator doors suddenly slammed shut- catching the man's head right between them. The scream he gave out was awful, and he writhed on the ground in agony. But soon his movements stilled, and he collapsed down unconscious.

The teen fully nudged him out of the elevator with his shoe and closed the doors for good.

X

There were no more interruptions. The elevator climbed steadily to the top until it finally came to a gentle stop, the display showing 'floor 17'. Stepping from the elevator, the thuggish boy examined the floor with just a small touch of interest. It wasn't much of a floor as it was more a cross-sectioned hallway. To the left a hallway stretched out to some sort of conference office, and to the right was a wide set of windows along with a staircase leading to the lower floors. Directly in front of the elevator however was a hallway that stretched down toward an innocuous door, one that he wanted in.

The teen groaned as the elevator swished shut behind him. Of course, standing between him and that goal was a veritable army of suited goons. At least six of them stood between him and his goal, and none of them looked happy to see him. They were all varying sizes, but for the most part they were heavyset and intimidating. It would only take a glance to realize that none of them were the law-abiding citizens that belonged in a diet building like this.

"End of the line, bastard." all pretenses of diplomacy were gone. The crowd of angry men edged closer, with the sound of cracking knuckles. Some even hefted menacing looking bats and clubs. "We're gonna mess you up so bad."

He didn't have time for this.

"Let's get this over with," the teen scowled before throwing himself into the fray.

With a heavy slam the door burst open, an unconscious henchman flopping to the ground in the doorway. Stepping over the body, the teens silver eyes examined the posh office space. Rich matte walls with different and tasteful knicknacks hanging from them. Bookshelves pushed up against the wall and overflowing with file boxes and thick hardbacks. A few chairs here and there, along with a wooden table that boasted a rather impressive array of porcelain china meant to be used with tea- though from the smudged brown rings along their edges, they had seen more use with coffee than otherwise.

In the center of the room was a large desk, covered in countless files and a few high end laptops all under a stark white desk lamp. Seated behind it, the scowling face of the man he was looking for.

The man was bald, though it worked more in his favor than otherwise, and he had a short black goatee along his chin. His face was stern, creased with years of scowling that made his brown eyes seem all the more menacing. He wore a smart black suit, open and without a tie, and on the bridge of his nose were a pair of orange tinted half-frame glasses.

All in all, he gave off the image of a businessman, but that notion would be easily destroyed by looking at his eyes. There was no shred of human decency in them.

The teen glared at him from the doorway, his entire body burning with barely restrained rage. It was a rage born in true disgust. The disgust of being near someone so wholly loathsome.

Masayoshi Shido

National Diet Representative

Cabinet Minister

"Of all the people I expected to barge in here, beat up my staff, and bust down my door… Some gutter rat kid wasn't one of them. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

His brow furrowed.

"Nothing to say for yourself? Do you even realize what world of shit you just got yourself into, brat?!" Shido slammed a hand on his desk and stood. "You know what? I don't even want to hear your excuses. You're gonna pay for everything you damaged, you got that? I'm gonna make sure your family regrets every single second of your existence."

If he let Shido talk his piece any longer he was liable to fly off the handle. As it was, he was barely restraining himself from hopping that desk and throttling the adult.

"Masayoshi Shido. Turn yourself in."

The statement was short and to the point. Clipped without any room for confusion and delivered with a terse frown from the teen. Silence befell the room as the young man stared down the bald man with steely, unwavering eyes.

Shido blinked, "Excuse me?" He bit out, venom lacing his tone at the mere idea that a child was trying to order him around.

The still-soaked kid stepped forward and pointed a solitary finger at a phone hooked up on the desk. "The police. Call them and tell them everything you've done. All the people you've hurt, and the laws you've broken."

Shido glanced down at the phone incredulously, before narrowing his eyes and growling. "Everything I've done...? Just what do you think you're implying!?"

He just continued to stare at him. His face impassive save for the slight turn downward of his brow, belying his anger. Slowly he retracted his finger and loosely crossed his arms. He would not show weakness in front of this man, and had no trouble keeping his cool despite his anger.

The two glared at each other for a few seconds that seemed to stretch out into eternity. The room was nearly silent, except for the muted howling of the storm that continued to consume the land outside those walls.

Eventually, he broke that silence. Disappointed resignation and an edge of pain colored his words. "A man died tonight," he began, his eyes never leaving Shido's face. "Takayuki Morioshi. Does that name sound familiar?"

Shido blinked quietly before he sneered, leaning back and crossing his arms stubbornly. But it was too late, he had already seen it. He never missed those tells. "Never heard of him. You're barking up the wrong tree, brat."

"You're lying, Shido. I know you're lying, because he worked for you as your secretary." He said, some small flicker of anger coloring his words. "You're lying, because you killed him."

Silence fell again. Shido sat up straight momentarily, giving him a wide-eyed stare of incredulity. It was shock chiefly… but there was also a flicker of worry in that look. It soon melted into haughty arrogance and ignorance, but he still had seen it.

(Interesting…)

"You really know how to piss an adult off, don't you? Me? Killing someone? What the hell are you even talking about?!"

The teenager scowled momentarily before his face returned to impassive ferocity. He was certain that Shido had killed before. He had no proof of prior deaths, but he knew a murderer when he saw one. However, he had no proof. And in this exact situation, Shido wasn't exactly lying about not killing. He had to play his cards right if he wanted to stay ahead of the older man.

"You didn't kill him directly, but there's no doubt that his death is on your hands, Shido. You will turn yourself in."

"What the fuck did you just say?!"

He ignored his indignant shout and shot a glance out the window. "Two hours ago Takayuki left his home and walked out into the hurricane. One hour later, the police found him half-lodged in the grill of a truck." He lowered his head and scowled, hating the memory that surfaced. "Dead on impact."

Shido scoffed and rolled his eyes, the careless action causing the kid's hackles to raise ever so slightly. "So that moron went and walked into a car? Great. I don't see how that's my fault or my problem."

"What? No love for your secretary? You're not disappointed you can't take credit for his work anymore?"

Another scathing glare, but no immediate rebuttal. He was making headway, slowly but surely.

He gestured toward the window with a tilt of his head, watching the raindrops streak by with his critical eye. "Out there is the mother of all storms. The worst that Japan has had in 30 years. Now why on earth would any self-respecting man walk out there for any reason? Especially on one of his few days off of work?"

"..."

The boy settled his eyes back on the glaring bald man. "I guess it's possible that he was going to check up on his girlfriend. Thanks to the storm, the cell lines are down. He might have gotten worried…"

"That-!"

"But that's impossible," He cut him off. "After all, his girlfriend already skipped town a week ago. Left after his boss coerced her into giving her body to him to protect her and her boyfriends jobs."

Shido's faced paled marginally, shocked to see that he knew about that. The only reason he knew about it was because Takayuki drunkenly sobbed about it when he helped drag him back into his apartment a week ago.

It sickened him then, and it sickened him now.

"Anything to say?" He probed, searching the man's snake-like eyes for any shred of humanity- any remorse.

"Sounds like a real sad story. Did your mommy tell it to you?"

A frantic, pointless jab. He wasn't exactly cornered, but he was being pressed- and he knew it. There was only one more strike to make.

"...The storm out there is bad. But even with it, it's hard not to see the lights of a truck through it. Those LED brights… They can be seen from a mile away." His arms unfolded again, restraining themselves at his sides. "So… A smart, accomplished man like Takayuki just… missed them? Without a drop of alcohol in him?"

"...No end of idiots out there." Shido scoffed once more.

WHAM

Shido's eyes shot wide, his chair wheeling backward as he jumped in fright. His eyes immediately locked on the trembling fist resting on top of his now cracked desk. The boy shook slightly, his fringe of hair shadowing his eyes as he stared resolutely downward.

His voice was grave. "You know what I think…? I think that it was too much. Working himself to death everyday. Living in near poverty. Getting all his recognition taken from him. Losing his girlfriend… It was just too much. He reached his boiling point and just… walked right out into the street."

"He chose death over another day living."

It was an all too common sight in Japan. There seemed to be no end of bad luck that could fall on a normal man. Bad luck that would keep striking again and again. Overworking themselves, ending up in debt, losing the things they love… and then ending it all. Every person has their breaking point, and people like Shido have no qualms about pushing them to it.

Takayuki Morioshi… A simple salaryman who lived a simple life. He himself had little connection to the man. Takayuki had provided him a futon in his apartment one day, and, despite their massive difference in age, a strong bond was forged between them. The bill of the apartment was split between them, they joked over meals of cheap sushi and cola, and they listened when the other had to vent their frustrations out.

Not best friends, not family… Just like-minded companions. Which made it all the worse when he stumbled upon the traffic-incident on his way back to the apartment that night.

"He may have taken his own life, but it was because of you that he had no other choice. So… Turn yourself in, Shido."

A silence fell over the room. Neither of them said anything, they merely held their venomous glares- daring the other to flinch away. The storm continued to roar outside, bashing against the window with all the force it could muster. A clear tension began to build, winding up like a tuned string threatening to snap.

"Kid…" Shido finally spoke, his voice low and filled with unmitigated rage. "Even if you beg, there's nothing you can do to stop me from ruining your life now. I'm gonna make you wish you kept my name out of your mouth."

"But first…" Shido growled as he stood, shoving the chair behind him with the harsh movement. He stalked past the desk with slow, purposeful strides; stomping across the linoleum until he stopped at the wall- standing opposite of the boy.

"I hate arrogant brats that can't back up their egos. I'm gonna knock some respect for your betters into you."

The boy shook his head in disappointment, dislodging the final drops of water clinging to the black locks to splatter across the floor. He turned slowly on his heel, fully facing the man. The tension in the air only thickened further, now buzzing with volatile energy that hummed against his flesh- warming the skin and bringing his heart to a powerful beat.

Shido stomped a foot and took his stance: legs spaced out for stability and his arms raised up in front of him with his hands loose and open. "I'm gonna put you in a hole so deep, you'll never be able to crawl out of it again!"

Cabinet Minister

Masayoshi Shido

Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders with loose movements, the boy entered his own stance. His right fist rising to hover close to his chin, while his left settled over his chest. The two locked eyes, Harsh brown meeting stern silver, and the tension shattered like a pane of glass being broken over a knee.

Shido made the first move, seeking to put him down hard and fast. Moving with speed that outclassed a normal persons, his foot flashed out- hooking underneath a chair and slinging it forward. The teenager ducked under it, letting it crash into the far wall and explode into splinters. Completely unprepared for the kid to react so quickly, Shido was left wide open for the wide hook that struck his cheek- knocking him askance with a spew of spit from his teeth.

There was no pause. Stepping into the blow, the teen pulled his fist back and brought the other one crashing straight into the man's sternum, pummeling the tender flesh without a mote of restraint. It was more than enough to completely evacuate the air from the man's lungs and send him staggering back a step with a face frozen in pain and shock.

The kid followed right after him, matching his retreating steps like a stalking tiger. He dropped his fists and instead brought his foot up high to check the man right on the side of the head.

Stars shot across Shido's vision as his head whipped to the side, his focus completely shattered. The leg lowered and then struck him directly in his calf in rapid succession- nearly sending him straight to the ground right then. The teen took one last step toward the retreating man, spun on his heel, and delivered a devastating side kick straight into his chest, lifting him clear off his feet and sending him careening into the wall.

Paintings and portraits clattered to the floor as Shido collapsed onto the ground, his teeth grit in agony as he clutched at his chest over the footprint there.

This kid… was far stronger than he had anticipated. Sure, he knew that he had bested his hired muscle, but seeing it first hand was a completely different experience. Although his movements were all unpolished, he moved with a confidence that belied years of experience.

But he wasn't a pushover either. Like hell would he let himself get thrown around by some brat!

Pounding a fist against the floor in rage, Shido shot to his feet in an instant, his eyes burning with vexation that further creased his face into a horrible sneer. Pulling his fist back, Masayoshi flexed the muscles beneath his suit as he poured every ounce of his strength into knuckles.

Immediately the teenager crossed his arms in front of himself, widening his stance and preparing for the blow to come.

"Guh!"

For the first time, the boy's stony visage cracked with pain. The first roared straight into his crossed arms, sending a powerful crashing noise ripping through the air as more force than the boy was prepared to handle came down all at once. Even still, as his arms shook and his face tensed in disbelief, his guard held.

Then the other fist came around. There was absolutely nothing he could do to prepare for the second fist that burrowed into his shaking block like a spear. He cried out again, backpedaling from the older man as he felt as guard begin to fall apart. Then the third fist came- Shido, now grinning gleefully, was sending haymaker after haymaker raining down with reckless abandon. And, with his unprecedented strength, it was working.

That was all his guard could take. When the third fist came down his arms gave out, flopping away uselessly and leaving him wide open for the punch that pounded into his chest. The force was just as ridiculous as the last blows. His eyes dilated, spit flew from his mouth, and a pitiful gasp escaped his throat.

The teen rocketed away from the man, tripping over a couch and sprawling on the other side. His arms shook as he groggily pushed himself up, an uncomfortable tightness gripping his chest as he wheezed for air. A weaker man likely would have passed out then and there, he could at least fight through the surge of pain lancing across his arms and chest.

Sluggishly he gripped the back of the couch and pulled himself back onto his feet, scowling deeper when he saw Shido smirking arrogantly on the other side of the room.

"Had enough, brat?"

He didn't rise to the bait. Shido hit like a train, but he had only landed one blow, while he had landed multiple already. Spitting a glob of spit off to the side, he gripped the couch tighter and hopped over it.

Wearing venomous expressions, they both stepped right back into the fray. Now more prepared, the younger man wasn't going to fall prey to Shido's reckless swings again. Instead of facing the haymakers head on, he ducked and weaved through them- his superior dexterity and reflexes rendering Shido's strength useless.

With each dodge he landed his own strikes; quick jabs across the chin, kicks against his knees and chest, and hooks right across the cheek where he could make them. It was like watching a sparrow drift and dive through the intense flailing of a gorilla.

One particular hook finally knocked the man backward, a spray a blood painting the air as the skin in his mouth broke open. He staggered back two steps, staring at the blood painting his hands in absolute shock, before clenching that fist and baring his fangs like a dog.

Flinging his arms to the side, Shido roared. A primal roar that echoed through the silent office complex and nearly shook its foundation. Locking his near crazed eyes on the startled teen, Shido spread his arms out wide, lowered himself, and kicked off the ground, lunging straight for him like a missile.

(Trying to grapple me? Like hell I'll just let you do as you please.)

As soon as Shido's stomping steps grew near, the boy darted forward. His lithe hand gripped the man's shoulder and with acrobatic grace he leapt- somersaulting straight over the man with ease. Shock exploded across Shido's face as his target disappeared over his head. With no one to aim for his loping gait halted, awkwardly forcing him to stumble and crash over his own feet to an uncomfortable reunion with the floor.

The teen scoffed when Shido hit the floor. While the man struggled to pull himself back up, the boy stalked to the side and bent low to pick one of the chairs up by its legs. The flimsy wooden chair was light in his strong grip- cheap, but ultimately perfect for him.

Shido gave a snarl and shoved himself back to his feet. His breaths were coming out hot and heavy now, and his limbs burned with exertion. Despite being in such great shape, he had never fought for so long against someone so strong. For anyone else this would be a humbling experience.

To him, it was only infuriating.

Clenching his fists even tighter, he rounded back on the teen. ...Only to flinch in shock when he found him much closer than he anticipated, and with a chair tightly clutched in his right hand. The boy scowled at him when their eyes met.

X

He brought the chair high up over his head, his fists grasping white-knuckled holds on its legs while his muscles tensed. Taking in a sharp breath, the boy flexed his hands and then swung his arms downward with insane speed.

Shido didn't even have time to throw his arms up before the chair came crashing down over his head. It impacted right over his crown, the sheer force behind it making the fragile wood splinter and explode against his skull. Intense pain erupted through his body, his mind blanking out from the ruthless blow.

He crumpled to his knees, his legs giving out from underneath him as he nearly blacked out on the spot. Chips and broken bit of the chair rained down around him, clattering across the floor. He only barely resisted falling limply to the ground, but he was so woozy that he could hardly see through his bleary eyes.

As Shido kneeled in front of him, the boy stepped up to him and pulled his leg back like a soccer player lining up a shot. Just when Shido's eyes began to clear up, he brought his leg barreling upward straight into his face. His knee met the mans face with a horrible crunch.

His nose immediately broke under the punishing blow- blood spurting across the floor as the kid followed through with the knee, sending him flipping straight onto his back with a cry of agony. Shido clutched his twisted nose and writhed, the pain too much to bear.

X

Shido groaned on the floor. His hands pressed against his bruised face, disbelieving of how far this kid had pushed him. His entire body ached like one great bruise.

The teen allowed a small smirk at the state of the loathsome man, and that smirk only grew when he gave the room a tentative glance. Trashed furniture, scattered and broken items… the room was a complete wreck. Their fight had been quick and brutal- but it was obvious who had come out the better from it.

"Guh… God damnit…"

The smirk fell away as Shido continued to writhe, making no move to recover. Unfortunate. He wasn't quite done yet. Loosening his stance and cocking his head, he rested a fist on his hip.

"Is that all?" he taunted, staring down at the man as if he were a bug.

The words were enough to spurn Shido. Although he still ached, and his movements were far more sluggish than before, he grunted and pulled himself back up. The man shakily raised his fists, glaring at the boy with every ounce of hate in his body.

Normally standing after the punishment he had taken would be a feat worthy of respect. But there was no amount of respect that he could ever feel for this piece of scum. To him, Shido deserved everything he got and more.

Before Shido could even bark another curse, the teen stepped forward and drove a hook straight into his cheek. Flesh deformed, skin breaking and rippling beneath a force carrying pounds of hate and rage. Unsteady as he was, Shido flew backward. His legs struck the edge of his desk, and the man toppled over it and fell to the ground in a heap.

Just like that, the fight was over.

Silence fell over the room. The teen held his stance for a moment longer before relaxing, a soft breath leaving his mouth as he let his muscles finally ease. It had been a close fight, but ultimately Shido lacked the experience to handle him. He was likely used to letting his henchmen do his dirty work for him.

Stepping past the desk, he found the man groaning on the floor. His face was covered in bruises, and thin trails of blood slid down from his nose and a gash on his forehead where he hit the ground. Where once there was a proud, arrogant politician who was used to crushing all his opponents, now there was only a pitiful man who had been beaten into submission.

The nameless boy meanwhile was no worse for wear. He still loomed over the villain with a predatory posture and exuded that same frightening, indescribable aura. Crimson liquid dripped down from the corner of his mouth and bruises dotted his cheeks, but if he was affected by it he didn't show it.

Shido groaned as the boy crouched down and fisted his suit, dragging him up to meet his stern grey orbs. He resisted, but there was little strength left for him to fight back with.

"You… You bastard. I'll make you pay for this…"

"Are you ready to admit what you've done?" The boy glowered down on him. His sharp features only grew more intimidating now that they were in the shade of the desk- shadows streaking across his face turning his eyes from gray to a stark silver.

Shido didn't answer, only glaring back at him in defiance. Defiance that was momentarily shattered when a fist slammed against his bruised cheek, prying a cry from his lips.

"Answer me."

Shido's head rolled on his shoulders, his eyes glazing slightly as he muttered incoherently. A flash of lightning erupted over the tops of the building silhouettes outside the window. Shido's hand came up to shakily grasp the arm holding his suit, his mouth still mumbling out near-silent gibberish in a whisper.

The boy frowned at his state and leaned forward, putting his ear closer to the mans mouth. "What?"

"...I'm… Protected…"

Uneasiness filled the teens stomach at those whispered words. His head tilted in confusion as he stared at the near comatose man. "Protected? What do you mean?"

"I am…" Shido swallowed, a little bit of life bleeding back into his face. "Protected. By the Kazuya Family."

Cold ice immediately channeled down his spine. His stomach twisted, a deep unease erupting across his entire body at those simple words. The tense anger in his face evaporated in an instant to be replaced with abject confusion and worry.

He grit his teeth and shook the man, trying to regain his cool despite the bombshell. "You're lying," he hissed.

Shido grunted, and shakily reached into the pocket of his black slacks. His hand rummaged for a moment before coming back with something clutched between his thumb and forefinger. A piece of silvery metal, molded in the shape of a shield with 5 sides. It was unassuming at first glance, but the moment it hit the light a profound numbness overtook the teens body. In an instant, his cool facade broke- sheer horror overtook his face as he stared at the emblem.

Sweat slid down his cheek as he slowly reached out and took the pin from the man's hand. It was cool and heavy in his palm. When he flipped it over, he was almost certain his heart stopped. There, on the face of the pin, was an all too familiar design. A red border around its sides, and harsh striking kanji made out of red metal centered in the middle over a background of deep black.

It was the same design as the pin that was on his jacket.

The piece slipped from his numb fingers, clattering to the ground with a noise that seemed far too loud. Shido sneered up at him, pleased to watch as the teen's pupils contracted and his body shook like a leaf in a storm.

"When they find out what you did to me, they're gonna bury you."

The teen dropped him, letting Shido fall back to the ground as he stood ramrod straight. His entire body felt cold and hot at the same time. A fear and anxiety unlike any he had ever experienced before overtook his entire train of thought. He staggered back as if struck, his back striking and knocking over a table at the exact moment a burst of thunder echoed across the city.

He… He couldn't stay here. Already he could feel the walls closing in. With clammy hands and hasty steps, he turned tail and fled- throwing open the door and sprinting through it as if the devil himself were at his heels.

"You're a dead man! Dead!" Shido roared after him.

He ignored the elevator, instead choosing to dart down the branch of the hallway and burst through the door into the stairwell. He marched down the stairs, the sharp rap of his heels on the metal steps and his harsh desperate breaths echoed up as he descended into infernal blackness. Hot, paranoid breaths exploded from his lips with every passing floor, his heart seizing in his chest the closer and closer he got to the ground.

When he passed the final stair and tore open the door he didn't even slow down. He just ran for all his long legs were worth; rushing past the still yet unconscious men scattered across the foyer. However, his frantic pace did weaken as he neared the glass doors at the end of the room. The boy grit his teeth as he stared through the glass, watching as the storm raged on, pelting the windows with ferocious winds.

(Under protection…) He scowled to himself, lowering his head as he tried to think over his predicament with a cool head.

(Why? Why would somebody like that be under protection? It doesn't make any sense! But… there's no doubt that emblem was the real deal.)

The shield emblem, proof of a protection deal, wasn't something you could just fabricate. In fact, they were only crafted specifically when that promise is made; there was no way to attain it without express permission from the family head.

(Why wasn't I told that he's under protection?)

Putting people under protection is not a common practice, and it was a given that all the men in the family would be told about the protection so they didn't accidentally piss the client off. But he was never told that. Nobody ever told him that Shido, the one man he hated with every fiber of his being, was protected. Was it because it was a recent arrangement? Was he truly that unlucky?

Nothing made sense, and the more he thought about it the more anxious he became. Told or not, he had just beaten a man protected by the Kazuya family within an inch of his life. What… what was going to happen to him now?

"..."

The boy stepped forward, his legs felt leaden as he passed through the open doors. The thunderous report of the storm immediately intensified, the howling wind and beating rain returning with a vengeance. Immediately his moist suit was soaked through once more, the rain crashing against him like a mallet and running rivulets through his hair and down his face.

The city was just as dark and lifeless as before, with the flickering lights of the towers and giant screens making up the storm cloaked horizon. However, unlike before, there was one notable difference.

A single car parked on the edge of the road in front of the office complex. The engine of the sleek car hummed quietly with life, its bright headlights cutting through the curtain of rain. The raindrops obscured the tinted windows of the vehicle, hiding away whomever was inside, but the boy could not look away.

He wanted to run. Badly. But he knew he couldn't.

At once, the back door of the car opened, swinging out over the sidewalk and revealing its dry interior of luxurious leather seats. A rough looking man wearing a fine suit was seated back there, staring pointedly at the teen with his arms crossed.

The boy walked up to the car, his every step disturbing the pools of water filling the streets. He steeled himself and stooped down to slip into the car and shut the door behind him with a bang that was swallowed up by the storm.

The car took off, streaking down the street and disappearing into the night.

Kagamibashi Complex

Kazuya Family Offices

The teen kneeled on the spread tatami mats, his palms flat against his thighs, his head bowed, and his damp hair clinging to the skin around his gently closed eyes. Calm, collected breaths pushed through his teeth, emptying out into the warm air like fine mist. All around him was darkness. With only a couple of dim light bulbs affixed to the ceiling, much of the room he knelt in was cloaked in shadow.

He sat in the middle of that room, tatami mats spanning out in all directions across the floor. Fine wooden walls surrounded him on all sides at the distant ends of the room, scroll paintings hung up across them depicted mesmerizing kanji and images of cliff faces bombarded by crashing waves.

Despite being barren, there was something almost regal about the room. It bore a beauty imbrued in its simplicity. A beauty that he could no longer appreciate.

"Let me see if I've got this straight. We took someone under our care... We promised them protection on our honor. And then, the very next day, one of our own busts down their front door and... beats them half to death."

The boy flinched at the acid-laced voice, his head ducking down further as every word stabbed into him like a knife.

"...That about cover it?"

"Basically. I always figured the little shit would pull something like this one day. Hot headed kids will always be hot headed kids." An extremely deep voice spoke next, not even attempting to hide the contempt that rolled off its tongue.

The boy's gray eyes finally opened and scowled at the\ hands gripping his thighs. A mixture of anger, fear, and confusion marring his expression as he bit his lip.

"Captain," a third voice spoke up, calm and collected as it cut through the thick tension in the air. "I understand that this is going to be a major setback, and I intend to take responsibility for fixing what happened tonight."

Finally, raising his head, the teen looked up at the man standing just in front of him. He was an older man with brunette hair slicked back, a pair of rectangular rimless glasses framing his sharp, black eyes. His firm expression and hard stance belied an intelligence and wisdom beyond his years. The boy stared at the back of his teal suit, wincing when the man turned to regard him with narrowed eyes.

Satonaka Hayama

Lieutenant Advisor of The Kazuya Family,

An Omi Alliance Subsidiary

"Of course you will." Hayama glanced away from the anxious teen and turned back toward the front of the room, his bespectacled gaze focusing on a man seated on a chair at the opposite end of the room who's booming voice overtook the room. "It was you who brought him into the family in the first place. We've already made it clear that everything he does is your responsibility."

"In some way, this whole shitshow is on your shoulders too, Hayama." The man sneered at him, crossing his tan muscular arms over his chest as he leaned back into his chair. Long dark dreadlocks shifted with his movement, lazily draping back all the way past his neck and over his shoulder.

Much like Hayama, this man was lithe and well proportioned. However, the muscles visible along his biceps and throat beneath his grey suit were far more pronounced than the Lieutenant's were. It wasn't egregious- he wasn't overly massive like a bodybuilder was. Instead, his body seemed to achieve a perfect balance. No excess fat, no wasted tone. Like an olympic swimmer. If one were to peer beneath his suit, they would probably liken him to a greek sculpture.

If his impressive body didn't do him enough justice, then the haunting amber eyes that he stared the lieutenant down with more than covered just how truly intimidating the man was. Sharp and unyielding, on a tan face that didn't carry a single blemish. Those piercing eyes were unlike any other, and when they landed on the teen it was all he could do to resist flinching.

Kongo Agon

Captain of The Kazuya Family

Patriarch of the Kongo Clan

"I'm already getting a headache from this bullshit," Agon continued, shaking his head in annoyance and dislodging a dreadlock from his shoulder. "There's no way in hell me or Gao are gonna clean up your little pet project's mess."

Hayama bowed his head in deferment, though his brow did twitch at the arrogant and dismissive tone of his senior. His protege's own hackles raised at the disdain directed at him, but he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. When he raised his head, the brunette adjusted his glasses with a quick nudge of his finger.

"Will we be notifying Patriarch Kazuya of this?"

Agon snapped to attention in utter bewilderment, "Are you fuckin high? Of course not. Bringing this kind of petty," he turned his glare on the teen shortly, "shit to his attention is just gonna cause more problems. For all he knows, this never happened, and that's how it's gonna stay."

Sweat trailed down Hayama's thin brow, a perturbed expression crossing his face. "Yes… That is probably for the best."

"And just how are you gonna handle this, Hayama?" The attention shifted away from Agon to the last man in the room, and this one was truly a sight to see.

If Hayama and Agon were built like professional athletes, then this man was built like a god. The man easily towered over the two other men in height, his entire body framed like a walking tank. Thick, bulging, corded muscle lined his entire body. His neck was thick, his arms and legs were brutish and toned to an almost rock solid level, just the same as his impressive abdominal muscles.

The mans size was almost inhuman. If he were to stand he would be a full three heads taller than even Agon was, and his beastly hand was large enough to palm a bowling ball easily.

He sat on the tatami floor carelessly, a muscular arm thrown over his knee as he lounged. His face suited his body. manly features, a strong chin nose and mouth, as if chiseled out of stone. Broad eyebrows and piercing green eyes, a row of square teeth in a far too wide grin, and a long, jagged scar spanning across his forehead. His thick black hair, voluminous and wild, was blown backward behind him like a spiky mess of quills.

For all intents and purposes, he looked like a monstrous caveman. And when his grin widened, the tension in the room only doubled.

Sekibayashi Gao

Lieutenant of The Kazuya Family

"You're awfully confident in your ability to fix this, seeing as how it's pretty much your own fault." Gao's deep, overbearing voice delivered those words no different than he would when mocking an underling. A comparison that only further incensed the brunette. "Trying to save face?"

"...Are you doubting my abilities, Gao?"

"This Shido thing can come back to bite more than your ass if it isn't handled right. That bastard is annoying, but he has something that the boss wants, and I'll be damned if he doesn't get it because of something like this."

Hayama took a long step forward, not even remotely cowed by Gao's voice and body. "I'll handle it."

"How?" Agon demanded, leaning his chin into his hand while leveling a lazy stare at the man. "I hope you understand that it's only natural for us to have doubts about your ability to make decisions now."

"I-!"

A sharp glare from Satonaka Hayama forced the teenagers voice to stop cold. The two held each other's gaze for a moment before the boy lowered his head again, worrying his lip even harder as his fingers dug into his slacks, warping the fabric.

His insides twisted like coiling snakes. He hated this. Hated that Hayama, a man he looked up to and owed so much to, was forced to clean up after his own mess like this. Hated that, just because of his affiliation with the man, his mistake was considered his own. Everything about this entire situation made him sick to his stomach, and it was only made all the worse when he knew he had absolutely no one to blame but himself.

He had never felt so utterly powerless.

"Well? Hayama?" At Agon's words, the mentor turned his back on the teen and sighed in exasperation, caving in to their demands.

"It's unlikely that Shido actually knows that the one who attacked him is part of the family. He's obviously too young for that to be the first thing he thinks. I'll meet with Shido and ease his worries. Make sure that he knows we handled the issue and intend to… reimburse the damages." Likely with money straight from his own pocket.

Gao yawned brusquely and scratched at his chest, "Hmm… Sounds fine enough, I s'pose. But I don't think the baldie will believe that he's not with us. After all, he's still wearing our pin."

"I can just tell him that he stole it off of one of our underlings." Hayma assured, ignoring the way the kid shot a look of pure shock and disbelief at his back. "It's not too unlikely to see kids playing Yakuza these days."

"So you'll be disguising it as an unpredictable attack from some brat with a grudge? Bold of you, but given Shido's track record it's not a bad idea. Plenty of people have beef with the guy."

"He's going to want revenge." Agon spoke with surety, still looking utterly bored with the entire situation. "Getting beaten up by some kid is bound to leave a bad taste in his mouth. He'll want to know that the kid is getting punished heavily for what he did."

"Like I said. I'll handle it."

Gao chortled, baring his fearsome teeth at the standing Yakuza. It was a mirthless laugh, full of all the faux charm the barbarian could muster. "You've always got things figured out, don't you?"

"One of us has to use our head," Hayama shot back, "I'm not holding my breath for you to do your share."

Gao's grin fell and he glared darkly at the teal-suited man, his hair almost seeming to bristle behind him as he bared his teeth. The beast of a man did not like being openly insulted by someone of a smaller stature than him. Hayama glared right back, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Lightning danced between the two, each of them at the very precipice of snapping and attacking the other.

"Hmph. Very well."

The two blinked, their anger fading as they turned to Agon who had finally pushed himself up out of his chair. He stretched his arms lazily, completely unaffected by just how close the other two high-ranking members had gotten to tearing each others throats out.

"I'll leave it to you. Don't disappoint me, Hayama."

With utmost respect, Hayama bowed to the man, "As you say, Captain Agon."

Agon stared at him for a moment before leisurely striding forward, the echo of his black shoes clattering against the floor filling the room. "However… There is one more thing that needs to be addressed."

"...Sir?" Hayama blinked and straightened himself up, a touch of unease crossing his face.

The tan-skinned captain passed by the lieutenant and came to a stop just in front of the kneeling boy. Cautiously, the younger man looked upward and met his impassive eyes. A deep, and overwhelming sense of foreboding immediately weighed on his shoulders.

"The situation may be handled, but I can't ignore why it even happened in the first place."

He swallowed, "Captain Agon, I-"

Whatever the boy hoped to say was immediately silenced when Agon's fist slammed into his face. In an instant, the boy was sent sprawling across the floor with a cut lip and a near-broken nose, a grunt of agony erupting from his mouth as he cupped the bruise on his face. The sheer power behind the blow left him absolutely stunned, the simple punch with no wind-up feeling more like the strike of a sledgehammer.

As he reeled in agony, the captain stomped on his leg with impunity, trapping it against the floor and eliciting another hiss of pain as his leg audibly creaked under Agon's shoe. While he writhed, Agon leaned down close to his face, making sure to press down harder on the trapped appendage as he loomed.

"There are things I can tolerate, and things I cannot. Some brat waving our flag while he does stupid, brainless shit is one of them," Agon whispered to him, his voice deceptively level. "The Kazuya family has lost face because of your disgraceful actions."

"I… I didn't know." His excuse felt weak even to him. Like a child begging for his parents to believe that a playground scuffle wasn't their fault. It was mortifying, and he felt shame stir in his chest.

A scoff, "doesn't matter. What matters is that your actions will undoubtedly reflect on us. Hayama here..." he gestured to the apprehensive man behind him with a lazy gesture, "...will fix what you've done, but how will you atone?"

He couldn't answer. He didn't know how to answer. Trapped under the heel of this man, it was all he could do to not avert his eyes- to hold that fearsome gaze with all he had. It was like being cornered by a lion, the instinctual fear permeating his entire body from those piercing eyes made his heart beat rapidly, and fresh sweat to trickle down his cheek.

The boy watched with bated breath as the man reached into the chest of his suit and pulled out a short wooden sheath that seemed to glisten in the pale artificial light of the room. The unassuming object had seams along the wood, colored with blackened steel that caught the eye. He recognized it in an instant. A tanto.

Hayama immediately stepped forward with a disbelieving scowl, "Agon!" he growled. "You can't be serious! He's just a kid!"

"If you sit at the big kid's table, you eat the big kids' food. If he's old enough for you to vouch for him to run with us, then he's old enough to pay for the consequences of his actions. You don't get to choose one or the other."

"Tch! Even so…!"

Agon turned his glare on Hayama, stopping the man completely in his tracks. "If you're so adamant, you can take his place. Either is fine with me."

Hayama stopped cold, disbelief in his eyes as he gaped. Slowly he gripped his hands at his sides and lowered his head, but made no further moves. Silence reigned as he stitched his mouth firmly shut and closed his eyes tightly. Even still, his fists trembled with barely restrained vitriol.

Agon chuckled and turned back to the teen, only to pause and raise an eyebrow. Despite the overwhelming pressure in the room and the perilous position he was in, the boy still managed to meet his eyes without flinching. The fear and anxiety was obvious, from the sweating hands to the trembling legs, but he didn't let any of it show on his face. Some small part of Agon felt a touch of respect at the reaction- most others he had seen would have broken down begging by now- though the much larger part simply chalked it up to a kid trying to put on a brave front.

Agon shoved the sheathed tanto forward, pressing it firmly against the teens chest as he leaned forward until his mouth was just astride his ear. He spoke softly, yet firmly. His every word impressing upon his mind and leaving behind an echoing reverberation that would ensure that he would never forget them for years to come.

"I'm gonna make you understand that one must take full responsibility for their actions..."

The room grew several times darker and colder. Agon's eyes almost seemed to glow as he stared him down. With neck creaking, the teen turned his eyes downward and stared at the sheathed blade pressed against his chest- the pressure feeling like an anvil weighing on his chest.

He felt trapped. The walls had closed in, and now he had nowhere to run. He couldn't force himself from under the overwhelming presence of his captain, he couldn't run from the fearsome stares of the lieutenants, and he couldn't hide from the mistakes he made. He couldn't escape any of it, because he brought it all upon himself. This was his comeuppance.

There was no more hiding the shakes that assaulted his hand as he reached for the tanto, no disguising the clear apprehension in his every movement. His hand curled around the weapon, feeling how cold the wood felt in his tense fingers. It was cold, yet he still felt as though he were being burned.

He shut his eyes and pulled the tanto.

Suddenly, the weapon was yanked from his grip. The boy's eyes shot wide open as he watched the yakuza captain wrench it from his hands and hold it aloft, out of his reach. Mirth danced in his eyes as the corner of his lip peaked up ever so slightly.

"...Unfortunately, I have no use for your finger."

The boy gaped as Agon stood, stepping away from his bruised leg while concealing the weapon once more. But even as he pulled back, the choking miasma of fear did not diminish in the slightest.

"If you truly wanted to repent, you'd give your finger to Patriarch Kazuya. He's the one your actions have troubled the most." Agon chuckled, uncaring of the abject disbelief on the black-haired teen's face. "However, he isn't going to know about this little trouble at all. So you're not going to go giving it to him."

Agon's smirk grew, "Aren't you happy?"

Realization came crashing down like a meteor. He never intended to make him repent like that. Agon only made a show of this to strike home one solitary fact into him: He could have easily made him cut off his finger there. He wanted him to know just how helpless he was in this situation; that his very life hung in the captain's hand.

A final, overwhelmingly painful declaration of how little he actually mattered to the family. Or, at least, how little Agon felt he mattered. It was an assertion of his power, and a final kick to the boy's ego.

Agon turned his back on him with finality, turning to Hayama who appeared white as a sheet, with his teeth grit angrily- obviously understanding Agon's intentions as well.

"He's expelled from the family. Whatever you do with him now is up to you, but that is final."

The words were expected, but still ripped away at his heart. The teen lowered his head, slouching as if all life had left him.

Hayama said nothing. Gao, unruffled by what had occurred, stood to his full, incredible height, and lumbered out of the room after Agon. The door slid shut behind them, trenching the room into silence.

The two were absolutely silent. The boy pulled himself up without a word, his head hanging as he clutched his still bleeding nose. Hayama wore a pensive expression as he stared at where Agon disappeared.

At length, the boy spoke. His voice was dry and hollow, "...What happens now?"

Hayama turned, finally acknowledging him. His face was decidedly blank, revealing nothing. No disappointment, no anger, no sadness, just a blank slate.

"I'll be taking you to court in a couple days, Shido will be notified of that to appease him. When the court date comes you will take the plea deal," he stressed.

Hayama had his own lawyers and jury under his payroll, this he knew. It was obvious he intended to manipulate the outcome of the case. To what end, he couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry, Hayama-aniki..."

Hayama ignored his unintentional slip. "Don't apologize now. It won't fix anything. I'll tell you more about what will be done later."

He sent him one last steely gaze, "Just don't make any more trouble for me." Like that, he was gone, striding out the door without even looking back.

The lights high above flickered for a moment, nearly giving way. Even now, the storm was still raging outside.