It never took this long.

As long as he's been in this business, as often as he's made it his own personal goal to capture a specific woman; it's never taken this long, ever.

What the fuck is going on?

He's dispatched numerous men. He's had his men scout all of Tokyo, to no avail. From the red-light district to the high-end neighborhoods where business men snorted coked and signed deals. To make matters worse, none of his men could figure out the bitch's name. All they could go off of was some willowed looking bitch with pink hair and a pink rhombus in the middle of her huge fucking forehead.

Who the fuck was this little cunt?
Just who the fuck does she think she is?

He decided that for each day that passed that she wasn't in his grasp, was a day he was going to fuck her mercilessly. He imagined what she would look like, on her hands and knees begging for him to stop. He imagined what it would feel like with those long pink locks twisted in his fist, yanking her head back so hard he hopes her fucking neck snaps. He imagined the way she'd sound crying, screaming, and wailing for mercy. She'd beg and beg and beg; and when she was good and sore, she'd beg again. He decided he'd keep her hostage, trapped inside his home. He'd shackle her, he'd put a shock collar on her and train her to stay within the bounds of the house.

He had so many things planned for her, he was almost giddy.

The fucking problem was, no one knows where the fuck she's at and nobody knows where to find her.

A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He swiveled in his chair, "Enter."

Three men came in; Riichi the first to shoulder his way through the door frame, Reiji right behind him, and Hisato waddling his way behind. He watched as they towed the line in front of his desk, Hisato glancing nervously around the room. Sota wrinkled his nose at the man. He was always so sweaty around Sota, and Sota hated that he could practically smell the man's nerves. If he wasn't so good at handling the cash flow and clients, he would have offed the guy months ago.

Sota leaned back in his chair, fingers templed, "Well? Do you fuckers have something to say to me?"

Riichi tilted his chin up, beady eyes narrowing, "We've got good news and bad news, boss."

Sota scoffed, "Of course you do...Well, give it to me straight. What's the bad news?"

Riichi flicked his gaze to Hisato, who was thumbing his way through papers in his hands, "Ask him."

Sota turned his attention to Hisato, waiting.

Hisato stammered, "Uh- ah, well we've run into an issue w-with one of our biggest c-clients."

"Who?" Sota snapped, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the desk.

Hisato flinched at the influx of Sota's tone, "Uh- well it's uh...It's..."

Sota slammed his hand down on the desk loudly, furrowing thin eyebrows, "Just spit it out you fuckin' pig!"

"We lost Wantanabe!" Hisato spluttered, practically shuddering where he stood.

"How?!" Sota barked, standing up and leaning over on the palms of his hands. "Tell me how the fuck you managed to lose one of our biggest paying clients?"

"Well, I-I didn't do anything personally, S-Sota, s-sir. Wa-"

"Then what the fuck happened, hmmm? What could have possibly happened that we now are out billions of dollars?"

Hisato wiped the sweat off of his wrinkled forehead, his breath coming in wheezing pants, "Th-they got busted, s-sir."

Sota paused, rearing back and shaking his head, "They got what? Busted? As in the government got ahold of them?"

Hisato shook his head anxiously, "W-well, it was actually the Intelligence Agency paired with the American FBI that's been on our case. Someone managed to infiltrate Wantanabe's home base and get all the information to bust them. They captured everyone, no one managed to escape."

Sota let out a groan, grabbing the pencil holder that was on his desk and throwing it against the wall, "God-fucking-dammit!" He whirled, pointing a thin finger at Hisato, "You know what this means, right? They're going to milk Wantanabe for information, and he's going to talk. That man cares more about self-preservation than worrying about the fucking Yakuza being on his tail. Is there any way we can take him out?"

Reiji shook his head solemnly, "Unfortunately, no. We tried to track him, but there's not a moment that he's ever alone. These agents know what they're doing, sir. We believe it's the same agency that's been managing to snag our men, too."

"Bullshit," Sota grunted, plopping back down in his chair. "This is fucking bullshit. Now, not only are we out a top buyer, but we are low on men."

"With all due respect, sir," Riichi started. "Couldn't we go to Kazuo for more m-"

Sota jutted a hand up to silence Riichi, "No. We cannot. Kazuo already wants my head on a platter, but he spared us because we were pulling in big money with big name clients. When he catch winds about Wantanabe, if he already hasn't, there will be repercussions. Hisato, it's your job to find a client to replace Wantanabe, ASAP—before Kazuo gets ahold of us. If we've got someone to replace Wantanabe, then maybe Kazuo won't mind."

Hisato shook his head, "Sir, there's no possible way I can find a client of that financial status in a short amount of time—it takes months to set deals with clients."

Sota glared daggers at Hisato, "I don't give a fuck how long it usually takes. I'm telling you that if you don't find a fucking replacement within the next several days I'll personally see to it that you're dick is cut clean off. Got it?"

Hisato lowered his head, "Understood."

Sota scoffed, shaking his head and flicking dark eyes over to Riichi, "As you know, we are not under Kazuo's good graces right now. That old hack has been trying to find ways to off us and our chapter—we aren't going to let that fucker do it."

Riichi chuckled, "No offense, boss—but he's the head of the Yakuza. He's THE crime lord. You understand that once he sets his mind to something, nothing can change it. You'd be better off begging for a second chance like you did last time."

Sota stared, but said nothing. Of the three men Sota often dealt with, Riichi was really the only one he allowed to talk to him like that. Had Hisato dared to speak in that manner, or even Reiji—he'd slap the shit out of them, and then some. Unfortuantely, the big son of a bitch was right.

Kazuo is ready to shut him down, and the only way a chapter gets shut down is everyone working in it gets killed; disposed of like trash.
Sota refused to be fucking garbage. He was a gift to those fucking worms, they just didn't realize it yet.

"Be that as it may," Sota countered. "As soon as Hisato here finds a replacement, Kazuo will see that we are capable of cleaning up our own mess and decide we are worth keeping. We've got to prove to that wrinkly asshole that we can hold our own and that we aren't a liability to the Yakuza."

"Sota, I'm going to be the first to tell you that you have been sloppy. You've had to hide out several times because of the Intelligence Agency. You've drawn more attention to the Yak-"

"Ah," Sota held up his palm again. "I don't want to fucking hear it. If I want to get lectured, I'll go talk to my fucking mother. What's the good news?"

Riichi shook his head and adjusted his shoulders, but continued, "We've got information on Pinky."

Sota started.

Riichi snagged a paper from Hisato, long arm stretching out to hand it to Sota, "We did some digging. I don't know why we didn't think to talk to the people at the complex she lived at, maybe because we the Agency has been heavy on our asses- I don't know. But, we found out that she isn't from here. She's an American."

Sota's head snapped up from the paper in his hands, "American? Did her whole family move here?"

Riichi grinned wickedly, "No, apparently not, sir. She's by herself, as far as we know."

"So no one would come looking for her halfway across the globe..." Sota mused, scraping his jaw with his nails. "Her whereabouts?"

Riichi shrugged huge shoulders, "No location yet, but we got a name."

"Name?" Sota piqued, slapping the paper down and leaning forward. "What's the bitch's name?"

A slow, wolfish smile spread across Riichi's face, small eyes glittering darkly as he spoke.

"Haruno Sakura."