Rating: R

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Yamane Ayano, not me.

Author's Note: Things pick next up next chapter, promise!

Jiyugaoka Station was a brisk fifteen minute walk from Wakai's house. Akihito shouldered his overnight bag and set off, phone in hand as the GPS app updated his route. The evening autumn air was chilly, and he slowed down a moment to zip up his jacket before picking up his pace again. His breath came rapidly, his heart rate increasing as he thought about what the night would bring.

He tried to focus on the present moment while his feet brought him closer to his destination, but his thoughts turned stubbornly to Asami. Anger worked itself into Akihito's bearing, drawing his brows together, making his spine straighter, his strides longer. He shouldn't be thinking of Asami. Not now.

Asami had turned him out of his life with cold efficiency three months ago. He could do the same, refuse him entry even into his private thoughts. With the sharp breeze biting into his skin as he walked alone, his time with Asami seemed unreal anyway.

To him, Asami was part of spring, of summer; hot, sultry nights, spread out beneath him, learning from Asami's hand just what kind of heat and magic their bodies could produce together. Those memories were like a dream, a long lost cocoon of happiness and pleasure that now seemed like a fairy tale he'd stumbled into. His features softened, eyes unfocused, not seeing the dot blinking on the screen before him.

A honking horn stole him from his reverie, and he hastily jumped back onto the curb of the sidewalk, waiting for the light to change. A hard knot settled in his chest, a throbbing ache that crept up to his throat too. God, when would his mind stop doing this to him? He was acting like a fool. A fairy tale-he almost scoffed aloud-maybe a fucked up, post-modern version. Don't forget how often the bastard pissed you off. Despite himself, a half-bitter, half-tender smile curved his mouth softly.

Shit. He was doing it again. This wasn't the time. He couldn't keep being so weak. The past was the past, and right now, well, he had someone else to think about.

There-the house was just up ahead. For the first time, Akihito took note of the neighborhood and mentally whistled. Wakai's business must be doing pretty well. The quiet, residential street was tree-lined, and the houses, while not extravagant, projected a aura of respectable wealth.

He was impressed. Wakai was still young, yet look how much he done for himself in such a short time. He'd followed his dreams, worked hard, made things happen. Akihito really admired that. It was exactly what he wanted for himself.

Though he had been resistant at first, getting to know Wakai better over the past few months, ever since Takato and Wakai's sister had started dating, had been unexpectedly comforting once the initial awkwardness had faded. Wakai, though he had never hidden his continued interest in Akihito, had never tried to pressure him, and Akihito had been grateful. He had to admit, it had been flattering-soothing-to be wanted. It had made up a tiny bit for the awful hole getting brutally dumped had left.

They really did have a lot in common. Akihito smiled to himself as he rang the bell. A thirst for thrills, a love of motorbikes, a taste for good beer, a desire for independence. And they never fought, not even one petty squabble. Wakai really was an all around perfect guy.

"Akihito!" Wakai's smile lit up his face.

Akihito couldn't help but return it, and his heart skipped a beat as he made his move. "Hello, Hirosuke." Wakai's eyes widened as he stepped closer, well into Wakai's personal space. "Is that invitation to spend the night still good?"

It took almost two weeks for all the marks on his body to fade. The finger-shaped bruises that covered his hips were the last to go. That night, when he could only see the faintest yellowish discoloration on his skin, he couldn't stop himself from tracing them with his own fingers, pressing hard against them to feel the sting of pain. and gasping as his other hand slid down to circle his cock. His reflection in the mirror was the only witness to his weakness. Thoughts of golden eyes and possessive words and touches spurring him on to a quick and intense climax that left him weak and shuddering and aching for so much more.

He curled around his knees unable to stop the tears he worked so hard to suppress. His cheeks ached from the smile he forced onto it all day. Oh, he acted his part well. He went to class, went to his part-time job, laughed with his friends. But it was all an act.

He hated himself for it, but he still couldn't stop. He hated the way his heart would leap every time his phone rang, and he hated the way he couldn't listen to the radio because every cliche song reminded him of Asami, even if nothing about Asami was cliche. He hated the way he'd catch a glimpse of tall, dark-haired man in a suit, his pulse ratcheting up to insane speed as he always stopped to turn and stare. The smell of cigarettes and expensive cologne flooding him with irrational hope, then plummeting to crushing disappointment.

At those times, he'd remember the words he'd flung at Asami, and he'd be overcome with a rush of shame, followed by defiance. He wouldn't let this crush him. In public, at least, he would be strong. No one would ever see him cry about it again.

Of course, his friends had been different. Less than hour after Kirishima had done his duty by dumping him back at Akihito's place, Kou and Takato had shown up, tipped off by Kirishima himself apparently. They'd taken one look at his face and gone into protective mode, not asking questions beyond the bare basics of the situation just then.

Their concern and outrage had sustained him those first few awful days he could hardly stand to think about. They had moved right in to his cramped apartment, force feeding him, keeping him company, pretending not to hear when he went into the bathroom and turned the shower all the way up to hide the sound of his crying.

They'd made him tell them everything, eventually. And he had, mostly, barring the sexual details of those intense final two days with Asami. But they got the message. Asami had messed him up good, and then he had tossed him out.

Takato had frowned, listening to him recite what Asami had said at the end. But he hadn't commented, just hugged Akihito and pressed a game controller into his hand and challenged him to a no-holds-barred battle.

They dragged him out into the sunshine when he just wanted to wallow in his futon with the blinds drawn. They put his camera in his hands and took him all over the city, tempting him with odd faces, and crumbling buildings, and vibrant crowds. And he'd taken refuge behind his viewfinder, looking at the city with new eyes. It helped...some.

The aching pit in his gut didn't lessen, but he learned to fake it better. His friends' effort deserved that, at the very least. His own pride demanded it. He would get over this. He would move on and make something of himself. Asami would see one day, and he could eat his heart out then.

He stood, reaching out to touch his fingertips to the cool glass of the mirror as he took an unflinching look at himself. Someone he almost didn't recognize stared back.

Those fantasies had nourished his deepest hopes. Imagining scenarios where Asami came to him full of regret, wanting him back, begging for his forgiveness-these filled much of Akihito's in between time; on the train, or at night before falling asleep. Part of him couldn't let go of the idea that Asami was only trying to protect him. If that were true, then maybe Akihito could prove himself somehow, show Asami that he could take care of himself. Maybe if he wasn't such a liability, Asami would reconsider. But as the days had passed and no sign or word from Asami came, those thoughts and fantasies were becoming too painful to dwell on, his insecurities too strong to sustain them. Asami didn't want him. He wasn't coming back.

No more, Akihito whispered to himself. From now on, he would be strong. But still, his hand crept once again to his cock. He closed his eyes, imagining other hands on his body, a voice at his ear, and surrendered just once more to the fantasy. Just once more.

Akihito scrolled through his email, his legs dangling off the edge of Yama-san's desk. He took a moment to reply to his professor's rather anxious email regarding the work he would be showing at the annual school photography exhibit, trying not to think of the reason why he'd fallen so behind and was only now catching up with the most important project of the school year. A quick look at his watch told him he didn't have much time to get back to the school soon and claim his reserved darkroom space if he wanted his pieces ready by the deadline.

But Yama-san was taking his own sweet time getting back from lunch. Ugh. Just thinking about food made Akihito's stomach rumble, and he clutched at his belly, grimacing. He was starving. After all, he'd only had a chance to eat one bowl of ramen before he'd had to swing by the station. The least Yama-san could do was show up on time. He pouted a little, then jumped down from his perch.

A quick rummage through his pockets yielded a handful of coins, and the vending machine down the hall had his favorite crisps. He munched through them eagerly, then washed them down with a canned energy drink. Who knew how late he'd be up working on his prints.

Back in Yama-san's office, he pulled out the manilla envelope with the photos he'd taken at Motoko's small birthday party. Yama-san's daughter was adorable, even with the dark circles under her eyes and the too-pale skin that spoke of chronic illness. He was happy that he could do this small thing to pay back what the man had done for him back when he'd had to knock some sense into Akihito, in more ways than one. Akihito grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

The shots had come out great, and he knew Yama-san and his wife would be happy. And cute little Motoko would especially like the one he'd taken of the both of them wearing face paint, all whiskers and wide grins, Hello Kitty cat ear party favors perched on their heads. It had done him good to see that brave little girl happy and grateful even in her hospital bed. If she could live so strongly, then he had no excuses for wasting time feeling sorry for himself.

He spread the first few photos out on Yama-san's desk, then scribbled a quick note. If he didn't leave now, he really would lose his darkroom time. At the front desk, he said goodbye to the officers on duty and walked out into the bright sunlight.

Cutting behind the station would save him a few minutes getting to the train, so Akihito turned down the narrow alley and made his way toward the back fence. Before he made it very far, he heard the sound of talking, though he couldn't make out the words. Curious, he crept closer, his sneakers not making any sound against the pavement.

When he got closer to the corner of the building, he was able to make out that it was Yama-san's voice he was hearing, and that he sounded upset. Feeling a little guilty, Akihito listened, hunched down behind a dumpster in case Yama-san came around the corner.

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not interested."

Yama-san sounded angry, but his voice was tired, almost weak. Come to think of it, Yama-san was looking pretty tired these days too. Motoko's illness was obviously taking a lot out of him.

"I don't need your dirty money. Who do you think you're talking to?"

Akihito's ears pricked up. Dirty money? What did that mean? Who was on the other side of the phone?

"Don't talk about my daughter! Filth like you have no right-"

His voice cut off abruptly, and Akihito listened anxiously.

"Do you think I'm that naive? Favors always come with a price. I won't be your man."

Another long pause, then Yama-san's sharp, bitter laugh made Akihito start.

"Don't...that won't happen. I won't let it."

The raw pain in Yama-san's voice made Akihito's gut clench.

"I'll take care of my daughter, damn it!" A fist slammed against the brick wall. "I'll pay whatever it takes. I'll find a way. Not your way. I-"

This time the silence went on longer as Yama-san apparently listened to the person on the other end, and Akihito strained to hear when Yama-san finally began speaking again, more softly this time.

"No...even a one time thing. The price is too much. I can't..."

Akihito's heart crept up into his throat. Was what he thought was happening really happening? Akihito's fingers clenched tight around the straps of his bag. Yama-san...

"Fine." Yama-san sounded defeated, his voice dull and lifeless, only a tiny thread of anger still running through his words. "I'll meet with you, Shiga. That's it. I'm not promising anything. I'll listen to what you have to say. After that, you agree to stop hounding me, you and the rest of you Ichibiya punks, no matter what."

Akihito's eyes went wide.

"No. I'll be in touch. I'll tell you when and where."

The sound of a phone clicking shut sent Akihito crouching lower, ducking around the corner of the dumpster. The alley was silent for several long moments, then Yama-san sighed deeply. His heavy footsteps sounding as he rounded the corner and came down the alley, passing Akihito's hiding spot and moving on. Akihito waited until he was out of sight before emerging.

Shit. It sounded like Yama-san was in real trouble. He knew that Motoko's hospital bills must have been expensive, but...suddenly he flashed back to the phone call he'd overheard several months ago-Yama-san talking to the hospital about payment. He'd seemed pretty stressed then too, now that Akihito thought about it. He must have been dealing with these financial troubles for a long time.

And now...what? He was getting pressured by someone-someone bad-to...what? Go dirty cop? In exchange for money? Paying off those bills? Akihito scowled. That was so wrong. Using someone's sick kid to twist them for their own use. It was unforgivable. Akihito wouldn't let that happen. Not to a friend of his. Not to Yama-san.

But what he could do to help? His frown got deeper. First, he needed to do a little research. Shiga, huh? Ichibiya? No one messed with people he cared about and got away with it. His eyes glowing with fierce purpose for the first time in months, Akihito smacked his fist against his palm. He'd help Yama-san with this, if it was the last thing he did.

Automatically, his feet took him to the train station while his mind worked furiously on the problem at hand. Yama-san obviously was pretty hard up for cash, that much was obvious. Akihito wasn't sure how much cops got paid, but he figured it wasn't all that much. He thought about his own dismal bank account. It had to be more than a college student/part-time photographers paycheck, though. Was there any way to get his hands on the kind of money Yama-san needed?

Quite unbidden, thoughts of Asami insinuated themselves in Akihito's mind. No. No way. He would never even think of asking Asami for help, not even for a loan. Besides, the man would probably laugh in his face, or worse. A pained expression crossed his face. Even...even if they were still together, it wasn't something he could have asked easily. That kind of money involved...

Akihito sighed, swiping his card to get through the turnstile and passing through the crowd to the escalator that would take him to his train. It's too bad Asami hadn't let him talk to Feilong longer. He had said he owed Akihito, and he wouldn't feel guilty at all about making him pay up, even if Feilong had turned out to be not that bad in the end.

But he had to stop thinking about fantasies and start thinking about reality. Maybe he could get a loan from a legitimate source. That was the first thing to try. He nodded, tilting his head up to consider the options. His eyes met with one of the round security mirrors placed at strategic points around the train station. A face caught his eyes, that of a nondescript, unremarkable man on the escalator several steps above him.

The face wasn't familiar, not in any usual sense of the word. He didn't know the person, but Akihito was sure he'd seem him before, and recently too. In fact, he was sure that he had been registering that face subconsciously for quite a while now. It was a face that wasn't notable in any way, yet, somehow, to Akihito, it was.

Akihito was almost certain it wasn't a coincidence or just his imagination making him think it was the same man. It wasn't the first time this thought had crossed his mind, but Akihito was finally ready to test it. At the bottom of the escalator, he swore, fidgeted from foot to foot, then crossed over to the other line of people going up the escalator. He apologized as he pushed through, riding back up and ducking into the toilet near the top of the landing.

He took his time relieving himself and washing his hands before making his way out of the bathroom. Then he stopped and bought a drink and a magazine, making sure his train had already come and gone before he went down to catch the next one. He didn't see the man anywhere, though he didn't make a particular effort to look for him. Once he was on the train, though, he let his eyes slide shut, peering out from the barest slit beneath his lashes.

His suspicions were confirmed. In the train car in front of him, through the window of the connecting door, he saw the man again. His heart began to beat like a jack hammer, and a slow heat crept up his chest and neck, finally shading his cheeks. He was definitely being followed.

"Akihito, tell me you haven't talked to any of those people." Wakai's rather alarmed tones caught Takato's attention, and he pulled away from Keiko to frown.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Akihito waved his heads. "It's no big deal."

"He was asking about borrowing money from a company with a pretty shady reputation."

"Akihito!" Takato leaned in, concern written all over his face. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Akihito scowled, shooting an irritated glance at Wakai. "I'm not in trouble! And I haven't talked to anyone yet. I was just...curious. I figured since Hirosuke knew about getting things like business loans, he might be able to answer my question."

Now Kou joined. "Akihito, do you need money for something? You wouldn't really go to a loan shark, would you?"

"No, that's not it." He took a drink of his beer, trying to deflect their attention. Crap, this was the last thing he wanted. "I just was asking for a friend. They're in a bit of a financial bind right now. I thought I could do something for them, check around and see if I could help somehow."

"What friend?" Takato asked suspiciously.

"Um." Akihito's eyes slid away. "I can't really say."

Takato studied him for a moment, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up before asking abruptly, "Is this something to do with...you know...?"

"No!" Akihito paled, his fingers tightening around the glass he was toying with. "It's nothing to do with him."

"If you need money, then maybe that's who you should go to." Kou, who had a head start on the beers, laughed a little drunkenly. "He's got plenty to go around."

Takato looked as if he wanted to kick Kou under the table. Even Keiko, who had never quite forgiven Akihito for his initial rejection of her brother, looked sympathetic. Akihito stood abruptly.

"I'm kinda tired, and since I'm second camera on a shoot with sensei tomorrow, I'd better take off now."

Takato rose, too. "Akihito, don't go yet. It's still early. Look, I'm sorry about-"

"It's fine." Akihito smiled brightly. "And you don't have to worry. I won't go near that company. I was just researching options, that's all. I'll see you guys in a few days, okay?"

"Aw, Akihito! Don't leave yet." Chagrined, Kou reached up to tug at his arm.

"Besides, it's obvious something is bothering you." Takato slung an arm around Akihito. "Aren't we your friends?"

"Yeah," Kou got up too, adding his arm to the mix. "Don't we tell each other everything?"

For a moment, Akihito stood, indecisive, but when Kou added the puppy dog eyes, he shook his head and laughed. "Okay, only for a little while. But I really do have to go soon."

Smiling in relief, Takato tugged him back down, pouring more beer into Akihito's glass before settling his arm around Keiko again. "So what's going on with you, then?"

Akihito bit his lip. "I want to tell you guys, but I don't think I can. It would be too much of a violation of privacy, and it would be really serious if it got around. But I promise that I'm not personally mixed up in anything bad."

"You sure?" Takato gave him a searching, skeptical look. "Because if you do need money I have a bit saved up that I can-"

"No! No way. You can't do that." Akihito shook his head vigorously.

"Sure he can. And me too!" Kou interjected. "I don't have much but..."

Wakai, who'd remained silent, watching Akihito with an intent, concerned gaze the entire time, also spoke. "I have a feeling the amount of money Akihito's friend needs exceeds any amount that we could loan him."

Surprised, a bit discomfited, Akihito met Wakai's gaze for a moment. He laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, you're right. It was stupid of me to think I could help with that. But I have another plan anyway." A rather devious, excited grin, struggled to break out across his face.

"What kind of plan?" Takato asked suspiciously. "I know that look, Akihito. It's the same look that got you sent to juvie five times!"

Akihito made a face at Takato and everyone, even Wakai and Keiko, laughed.

"Seriously, Akihito." Kou leaned in, his warm grin reminding Akihito how lucky he was to have friends like these. "Let us help. We've got your back, man. You know you can trust us."

Everyone else chimed in and Akihito couldn't help but be tempted. He could trust them. He really did have the best friends ever. "Well...maybe there is something you can do to help."

He took a deep breath. "It's a long story, but the gist of it is, my friend is in trouble with some bad people. They've been pressuring him to work for them, and he's been holding out but he has money troubles." Akihito looked away, his brow furrowing. "I...know he doesn't want to do it, but there's a lot at stake, and he...he agreed to meet with them."

"Aki," Takato said worriedly. "By bad people, do you mean..."

"Yeah," Akihito interrupted. "It's some gang operating out of Gotanda. I did some research. The head boss, Shiga, has done time on a couple of minor charges, but he's been out for the past two years building up his gang, dealing mostly penny ante stuff according to my sources. Lately, though, he's been off the radar, maybe working to consolidate his position and try and expand his territory. There have been a couple of incidents at some of the docks recently that point to him."

Everyone stared open-mouthed at Akihito. He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "What?"

"Wow, Akihito!" Kou exclaimed. "You sound like someone from a t.v. drama!"

Keiko clapped her hands in excitement. "Wow, you really did sound cool!"

That broke the tension. Amidst laughter, Akihito took a swig of his beer and looked pleased with himself.

Takato's question brought him back down to earth. "How did you find all that out?"

"I told you-research. And I have my sources." He wanted to grin again, but Takato looked somber.

"This sounds like really dangerous stuff, Akihito. Are you sure it's a good idea to get involved? Maybe you should go to the police."

A flush crept up across his cheeks. "I can't do that, okay? It's not an option. And he can't even know I'm trying to help him. Nobody but us can know!"

The finality in Akihito's voice was plain, as well as the stubbornness that both Kou and Takato, at least, knew couldn't be reasoned with.

Wakai leaned forward. "So what do you intend to do?"

"Well, there's no way to get that kind of money." He scowled. "The guy at the bank practically patted me on the head and sent me off with a lollipop. Anyway, I knew it was a long shot, but I was just so mad that they were doing that to Ya-to my friend, that it was the first thing I thought of."

"And you're not considering going to any of those loan shark companies?" Wakai watched him closely. "They're all a scam, operated by the same types of people out to get your friend, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know." Akihito shrugged. "I've given up on the idea of coming up with the money for now. That can come later. What's important is to get those people off his back."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"With this." Akihito reached down into his bag and pulled out his camera. "I've been tailing my friend the past couple of days. I found out when and where he's meeting Shiga. I'm going to be there first and I'm going to find out exactly what they're up to. Then, I'm going to keep Shiga and his men in my sights, get incriminating evidence on them, and I'll make my move. I'll bring them down one way or another if they don't back off."

"That's absolutely crazy, Akihito."

What did it say about his plans when Kou was the one calling him out on the insanity? But Akihito just grinned. "Yeah. But it's the perfect opportunity to get a head start on my career in investigative journalism. So...are you in or out?"

A hard slap on his back sent him lurching forward over his beer. "I already said we've got your back, Aki."

"Yeah, you don't even need to ask." Takato patted him more gently. "Besides, I know you'll do this no matter what we say, so someone needs to keep an eye on you."

Akihito's eyes sparkled with excitement, a tight, secret smile curving his lips . "Yeah, well, that's what I need your help with. Someone already is."

Kirishima looked up wearily when Suoh entered his office. He waved him into a seat across the desk, and leaned back into his own chair with a sigh. The daily security report landed on his desk, as Suoh sat.

"Kumiko-san." Kirishima spoke into the intercom. "Bring two teas, please."

"You look like you could use something stronger." Suoh sounded sympathetic.

Why shouldn't he? He was in the same boat as Kirishima. The entire organization had been running in overdrive the past three months, and while their efforts had proved profitable, the unrelenting pace was highly stressful. The past week, ever since Asami had taken a direct interest in Takaba Akihito's doings, things had become even more intense. As Asami's top men, they bore the brunt of it.

Their boss was driven beyond anything Kirishima had seen since their earliest days together when Asami had only begun to make a bid for power in the Tokyo underworld. Barring the one-probably best forgotten- incident at Okami House, their boss did nothing but work these days, and eat occasionally when Kirishima put the food in front of his face and stood over him, risking reprimand to see that Asami-sama ate enough to keep up his health. He wasn't sure whether or not his boss had been sleeping at all given his increasingly short temper and foreboding aura.

With a sigh, he pulled the report in front of him. "I could use a real drink. Want to join me?" After all, officially, he was off the clock. Asami-sama had already left for a late night meeting with the manager at Sion.

"I'll get it." Suoh rose and made his way to the sideboard to pour for both of them.

"Do I want to open this?"

Suoh smirked over his shoulder. "No."

Kirishima groaned, using his index finger to slide his glasses higher. Biting the bullet, he flipped open the cover, his eyebrows rising in silent astonishment. He took in the details of the picture: the time of day, the embrace, the overnight bag, the smiles on the face of both men. Shit.

He was surprised, honestly surprised. It wasn't that the kid didn't deserve to find some comfort or happiness where he could, he just didn't think it would happen so soon-if at all-not after witnessing the boy's quiet breakdown in the car as he'd driven him out of Asami-sama's life. That had been a situation he never wanted to repeat. Give him a good back alley fight over something like that any day.

He certainly didn't want to contemplate his boss's mood when he looked through the day's reports in the morning. "When did this come in?"

A generous amount of Scotch sloshed in his glass as Suoh set it down in the middle of the folder. Kirishima glared, but tossed back a good portion of the contents immediately.

"The report came in about an hour ago, but the picture was taken around 7:00."

Shit.

"He's still there, I take it?"

"Yes. The lights went off around 12:30."

Shit. He downed the rest of his drink, and he didn't complain when Suoh filled it again.

His headache in the morning was only the first of his pains the next day. Asami's reaction to the report had magnified the level of his icy reserve to epic proportions. He was only thankful that a business deal long in the making was currently drawing the attention of his extremely pissed off boss. Though, he was certain the other parties wouldn't be too appreciative of the outcome.

It wasn't until well after lunch, though, that he was presented with another report from Suoh.

"They what?" Kirishima gritted his teeth against the throb in his temples.

"When Takaba didn't emerge in the morning, even after Wakai Hirosuke left for work, they began to get suspicious. His regular schedule includes two morning classes."

"Did they check the house?"

"Yes. He wasn't there. A check around the perimeter showed one set of footprints in the ground beneath the bathroom window."

It took Kirishima a moment to process that.

"He ditched the tails?"

"It would seem so."

"But how did he-" Kirishima reached up and massaged his temples, thinking back bitterly to his boss's words about the boy so long ago. "Mostly harmless, my ass."

Suoh raised an eyebrow as Kirishima continued to mutter.

"We're paying Sawada how much for this kind of service? Did they at least put the tail on Yamazaki?"

"Yes. And another man is still stationed at the house in case he returns."

Kirishima snorted.

"His school and place of work are also under surveillance," Suoh continued.

"Yes, I'm sure he'll make it so easy," Kirishima barked with uncharacteristic sarcasm. "Hopefully, he's still nosing around his cop friend, we may be able to get a line on him. Any news on that?"

"We confirmed the hospital bills. Mostly likely it is what we thought. Yamazaki is being offered a deal. We haven't been able to determine which group has approached him yet."

"Put our own men on that, make it a priority. If the kid is trying to get messed up in that kind of situation..."

Suoh nodded. "Understood." He turned to leave and Kirishima watched Suoh go, wishing more than anything in that moment to trade places with him.

He sighed heavily again, then firmed his spine, literally and metaphorically. He had a meeting to interrupt.