Fushiguro set his feet up on the dashboard, his arm hanging out the window. He wiped his nose and coughed to clear his throat. They'd driven to an empty lot that was out of the way in Kabuchiko. Fushiguro thought he'd be nervous about the deal, but he didn't feel a thing.

"Fuck, he's taking forever. What time did you tell that asshole to get here? I'm tired of wearing this mask."

Silence was the only answer he received.

"Hey." Fushiguro looked over at him.

Toge was leaning into the window with his eyes buried in his phone, his hockey mask flipped up on the top of his head. Fushiguro watched as his face lit up with every message he received, and how his eyes sparkled when he'd reply. Fushiguro turned off his phone after they'd left the safe house, and expected Toge to have done the same.

'Is he still texting that bitch?'

"Toge!" Fushiguro hit him on the shoulder.

Toge sat up, "What?"

"Can you get off your phone for a fuckin' second? I was talkin' to you."

"About what?"

"When is that guy gonna get here?"

Toge rolled his eyes, "No way to know 'cause someone said we shouldn't text him."

Fushiguro scoffed. "Leaving a trail is the stupidest thing we could do, bakayaro."

"Yeah, yeah… so don't ask when he'll get here." Toge got back on his phone.

Fushiguro shut his eyes in frustration. "Uh-huh."

'It's like ever since he started talkin' to her, his head hasn't been in it. He's been so fuckin' distant.'

His eyes flicked open when he heard the low rumble of an engine and sure enough, he spotted a white sedan approaching from the other side. Fushiguro shook Toge's shoulder. "They're here."

"Finally." He said, putting his phone away.

Toge slid his mask down as the men rolled to a stop, while Fushiguro got the duffel bag out of the back seat. A man wide as a tree trunk stepped out of the driver's side and opened the door for a smaller man dressed in an all white leisure suit. He wore gold sunglasses with mirrored frames and a smile that was sickeningly wide. Fushiguro's stomach started to fold over and twist.

'I don't like the look of this guy.'

"Ah." The bespectacled man clasped his hands together. "I must admit, I don't usually work with referred dealers and the masks aren't inspiring any amount of confidence. What do you call yourselves? I'm always so interested in young men in business."

Fushiguro gripped the straps tighter. "Hey, we don't need—"

"Cut it out." Toge said. He tapped on the duffel, "Look. Do you want to check this out or talk shit? Because with or without you, this shit's gettin' sold."

"I didn't mean to offend. I'm wary of newcomers, is all. I was serious about the name."

Toge shook his head. "Names are for people who want to be known."

'What the fuck is this guy's deal?'

"Is that so?" He asked. He stroked his chin and surveyed the two young men. "My name's Akechi. I don't mind being known. May I test what's in the bag?"

Toge shrugged, "Sure."

Akechi started to approach, but Fushiguro held up an open palm. "Hold on."

"What are you doing?" Toge whispered.

'Tired of this guy playin' with us. This shit shouldn't take this fuckin' long.'

Fushiguro put the duffel on top of the hood of the car and took out a knife. After he unzipped the bag, he took out a rolled up package. He dug the blade in and snatched it out. The blade was now dusted in white.

Fushiguro walked the blade over to Akechi and the bodyguard stepped between them.

Akechi laughed. "It's okay. Let the young buck through."

The bodyguard stepped aside and Fushiguro pushed the tip into Akechi's face.

"Here." Fushiguro's blood boiled beneath his skin. "Try it."

Akechi bared his teeth in an effort to smile, appearing more wolf than man in the process. "You're a bold one, aren't you?"

"Try it."

Akechi cupped his hand over Fushiguro's and edged the blade closer. He tasted the powder and swallowed. Fushiguro could feel Akechi's pulse lowering, until it eventually picked a steady beat.

'Cocksucker.'

"This is too clean for a couple of street rats." Akechi said in a low voice. "Who's your supplier?"

Fushiguro ripped his hand out of his grip. "Where's the money?"

"Yoshi?" Akechi said.

The bodyguard turned on his heel and opened the back seat of the luxury car. He ducked in momentarily and pulled out a large red bag.

Toge zipped the duffel bag back up and joined the rest of them. Yoshi and Toge switched bags. Toge bent down and got to counting out the money. Yoshi placed the bag in the trunk, while Akechi paced around.

Fushiguro put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight to his other foot.

"Are you sure you're in the right business, kid?" Akechi asked. "You're too emotional. That'll get you killed. I've been in the game for a long time and kids like you always ended up seeing Enma before 25."

Fushiguro scoffed. "Yeah? And people like you can't see him fast enough. Almost done Toge?"

"Yeah. It's all here." He zipped up the bag. "C'mon."

Fushiguro and Toge headed back to the car

"Last time we met was by chance!" Akechi called from inside his car. "When will I see you two again?"

Fushiguro flopped into the passenger seat, "You won't."

"Ah, don't play too hard to get, Jason! I'll find you if I want."

Fushiguro shook his head and put his leg up on the dash board. "Fuck that guy."

'There's something off about him. The kinds of questions he asked… I don't ever wanna see that guy again.'

Toge reversed the car out into the back streets and the two sped off and away.

He hit Fushiguro on the side of the head, "What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? You need to control your fuckin' temper."

Fushiguro pushed him back. "Fuck off. He was late and he talked too much. I just wanted to get it over with."

"It would've been over sooner if not for your display."

"Oh, now you wanna give a shit? All day you've been on your fuckin' phone talkin' to that girl."

Toge scoffed. "Why's that matter?"

"Because if you're focused on her, then this shit won't work." Fushiguro took his mask off.

"I can handle myself, alright? You worry about yourself." Toge threw his mask in the backseat. "Now is the showing still on? 'Cause I don't wanna take you if you're gonna bitch all day."

Fushiguro grit his teeth and crossed his arms. "Just fuckin' go."

–– * ––

Toge bent down and lifted up a blackened piece of stone and picked up the silver key hidden underneath it. The chain lock collapsed in a shiny coiled pile and he slid open the rolling metal door to reveal a vacant warehouse. Light weaved in between the links of metal that trailed from the ceiling. Like metal snakes suspended silently in space. The stillness was disrupted when Fushiguro twirled one of the Until Fushiguro twirled one of the chains and created a small symphony of coppery clattering.

"He said we've got the space for half an hour, but I don't think we'll need that long. You like it?"

Fushiguro sat down on an overturned milk crate. "I don't know. What'd this place used to be? Looks like something out of a horror movie."

"The official listing described it as a gutted meat processing facility." Toge grinned. "In other words, a slaughterhouse."

Fushiguro grimaced. "We've done worse, as far as venues go. It's got size going for it. That's all."

Toge poked his lips out. "Please. People love this kinda freaky shit. Remember that private pop-up that happens every so often? Well, Caligula's sending out invites again and people… hold on."

'Caligula might be too far for even me. I'm not surprised Toge so hype about it.'

Toge took out his phone and turned his back to Fushiguro, "Hey, Chi-chan." The younger's blood ran hot, but instead of mentioning it he decided to get on his phone instead.

'Can't even go five seconds without talking to her.'

After his phone turned back on, all of his notifications popped back up, though one stood out in particular. He clicked on it immediately. The life drained from his face and his stomach twisted in two.

Gojo: all of you, take your haul and whatever you made back to the storehouse asap

Fushiguro stood up so fast, he sent the milk crate sliding back. "You fucking idiot! Why didn't you say anything about Gojo texting us? If you weren't texting that bitch all day, maybe you would've noticed!"

"Relax. I saw the message when he sent it. I just didn't fuckin' care." Toge hung the phone up and threw his hands out. "What would telling you have changed?"

"What do you mean?! We would've held off on the deal. We don't have shit to show him." Fushiguro held his hands on his head. "The fact that he did that— which he's never done before— he knows something's up."

"Akechi was right." Toge rested his leg on a crate. "You are too emotional. So, there's been a change of plans. So what? We'll figure something else out."

Fushiguro narrowed his eyes, "Like what? You gonna make two duffels of coke appear outta thin air?"

"No." Toge licked his teeth. "We'll just fake it."

"That's a shitty fuckin' plan." Fushiguro's lip curled up. "People start dying from it, then what?"

Toge shrugged, "Not sure how that's our problem. People die from real coke all the time, bro. It's not like they'll know it was specifically made by us anyway. Like, what you got a heart, now? Stop actin' like you actually give a shit about other people."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Fushiguro crouched on the ground and shook his head back and forth. "I knew this was a bad idea. Why'd I let you talk me into it?"

"Oh, are you fucking serious?!" Toge yelled, hitting a chain and sending it into a spiraling fury. "I talked you into it?"

"You brought the idea to me!"

"I didn't force you to agree!" Toge threw the milk crate at him. "I didn't force you to fucking steal it, either. If I remember correctly, Fushi, you did that all on your own. Don't try to put this shit on me. I've always had your back!"

"You have, huh?" Fushiguro's face went slack and a weak laugh that sounded like a rattle emitted from his mouth. "Always had my back?"

Toge's tongue flicked around in his mouth. "Foreign exchange student, overdose, pr—"

"Shut the fuck up! You shut the fuck up!" Fushiguro charged him and punched him in the face, sending him swirling to the ground.

Toge twisted around Fushiguro's torso and forced him into a headlock. He spoke softly into Fushiguro's ear. "We started this together and we'll end it together. There's no tapping out of this early, okay? We stop, when I say."

His arms constricted around Fushiguro's neck until the blood flushed up just beneath the surface of his skin. Fushiguro scratched at his arms. Then he launched him forward and walked back. Fushiguro crawled on all fours and left a trail of saliva in his path. His back bucked to the arrhythmic spasms of his esophagus and his wearied wheezing.

Toge watched him from the milk crate, wondering when he would stop the theatrics. When Fushiguro quieted down, he wiped his mouth and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"Fuck you, Toge. You should've… you should've said something."

Toge scratched the corner of his mouth, "Yeah, well, I didn't."

Fushiguro coughed and took out a small bag from his pocket. "And now it's all gone to hell."

"Get a grip, man. You're really about to do that now?" Toge asked and rubbed his neck.

"Yeah." Fushiguro said, patting the contents of the bag onto the side of his hand.

Toge walked over to him. "Well, sharing is caring."

Fushiguro patted the contents of the bag onto the side of his hand and snorted halfway. He lifted his hand up to Toge's mouth, and the elder gummed the rest of it.

"We could always take it from somebody else."

Fushiguro sniffed, "You know where the other stash houses are?"

"No. So, now you see why I said we should fake it." Toge held his hands in his pockets. "We can stuff the bags with baking soda and take it to him today, then go back and repackage it with half of the real thing and everything's fine. You think about it, we're actually doing them all a favor. Selling half the product for the same price."

"You're really full of shit, you know that?"

Toge paced around in circles, "I don't give a fuck. After this little thing is over, we can go back to selling on our own. We could even cut it like we're gonna do tonight. Then we'd make double with less raw product."

Fushiguro's laugh resembled a shriek. "You wanna do this again?"

"Fuck yeah, I do. We just made 20 million yen we won't have to share. Like I said before, we'll stop when I say."

Fushiguro held his face in his hands. "You're unbelievable."

Toge's phone rang and he looked at the screen. "Don't worry, Fushi-tan, it's not Michi."

"Fuck you." Fushiguro spat.

"Text Gojo we'll be there soon." Toge brought the phone to his ear. "Yeah… we love it. How much for Saturday night?" Toge scratched his jaw. "Not bad, but you can do better."

Fushiguro's heart rattled around in his rib cage. A chill ran up his spine and he shook it off, like a dog trying to dry itself, but the glacial feeling bathed his back in ice. Hunched over on the ground like a wounded beast, his face was a mask of death. His lips were dry, sweaty with a texture like liver.

Fushiguro: hey, gojo-san. we'll be there soon

Toge put his phone back into his pocket. "Just locked in this space for Saturday. It's gonna be fuckin' wild."

"Yeah. Sure." Fushiguro whispered.

"Aw. Cheer up, Fushi-kun. It's all gonna be okay." Toge ruffled his black hair. His fingers trailed down the young man's face to rest on his jaw. He shook his head back and forth like a pendulum. "So, fix your fuckin' face."