His fingers thrummed on the worn desk, cold eyes squinting as he gazed out the cracked window. Darkness had encroached in on the room besides the small lap sat atop his desk, casting a jaudiced glow over scattered papers and the hard lines of his face. Outside the window, he could see men walking to and from; armed to the teeth with guns and knives. Despite the number of men he had guarding him, he couldn't help but sweat.
Nothing took this long.
Never.
First Watanabe, now Reiji—just who the fuck was after him? Was this a hit because Watanabe talked? More agents coming in closer to get ahold of him. It had to be, there was no fucking way. It had to be agents, that was at least until Reiji described to him the man that shot him in the dick. Tall, silver hair, and a scar that stretched down over one eye. He'd heard of that man before; he was notorious for cutting out Yakuza chapters left and right.
Kakashi Hatake.
He knew as much the man wasn't an agent with the government, let alone the American government. He must be working for someone else, or working for the agents. The fucked up part was, Sota couldn't seem to scrounge up any information on the bastard. He was nearly invisible, except for the other night. This made Sota suspicious for many reasons, because he was losing more and more men. He was suspicious, because he had no help this time around. Kazuo will refuse help—Kazuo has already cut him off from any more men. If Kazuo catches wind about Hisato being kidnapped—it could be all over. Kazuo will easily chop his head off before any agents could get to him.
That's why he had to act fast.
He had to act smart.
For some reason, he was letting this little bitch get to him. He wanted nothing more than to tear into her, fuck her up nice and good before he sells her—and he had big plans for her. Just before Hisato was kidnapped, the fat fuck managed to snag a high paying client at the level Watanabe was. Sota has promised this man Sakura, and he was going to deliver—just as soon as he was done with her.
Sakura...
What a stupid fucking name.
Once he got a name, after he beat the shit out of the grunts that didn't get it sooner, he found out everything he needed to know about her in an instant. He knew she was a traveling nurse at the hospital in downtown Tokyo. He knew that she was here by herself, with no family. He knew that she was 26, and he knew that she's been seen talking to a silver haired man with the exact same scar down his eye before she fucking disappeared.
What the fuck was she doing with Kakashi Hatake?
Was she working for him?
Was he working for her?
Something was going on, Sota knew that much. He also knew he was going to intervene, swoop in and get that little bitch right under everyone's noses.
He swiveled in his chair, picking up a sheet of paper Riichi had given him—more information on Sakura. As personal as this was, and it was incredibly personal, she was worth big money to the client he had lined up. The moment he sells her off, Kazuo will have to see that he can clean up his own messes and give him more men. The old sack of shit had to.
Sota grabbed the phone, lifting the paper under the dull light of the lamp and dialing the number. Several rings passed before it picked up, "...Hello...?"
Sota leaned forward on his desk, propping his left arm and smiling against the receiver, "Sasuke Uchiha?"