Spring, 2016

"There's no going back after this, you know," Ryuji said.

Ren scanned the battered, scarred entrance to The 953. It wasn't inviting enough for a place that was supposed to be nothing more than a simple club.

"You think I didn't consider that before I had you drive me across the city?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Now that one of us is dead, the promise of zero risk is gone. We can't have a boss that lurks in the shadows and refuses to confront problems head-on."

"If you think it's necessary…"

Ren didn't think—he knew. Continuing the old methods of doing business would lead to catastrophic failure on account of the bullet holes that would fill every last person claiming Aka Handan Ikka membership.

He opened the door with the strength of a nocturnal club-hopping animal and walked into The 953. The only light came from the bar and windows. Thin lines of light shot through the windows and checkered the dark carpeted floor. Light came from above the bar alongside the noise of clinking glasses. Ren took a few more echoing steps until he saw movement behind the bar.

Ai popped up from under the counter. "Re— er, boss…?" Ren smirked. He hadn't seen Ai since her job interview two years prior when the Aka Ikka purchased the club. Forgetting how to address him wasn't offensive—it was expected with how much distance he put in between The 953 and himself.

Ren approached the bar. Ai saw this and rested her palms on the counter, creaking the old thing with her weight leaning on it. "You can say Ren for now," he said as he slid onto a barstool.

"But when your employees begin showing up for work…" She trailed off after she got her point across, only getting a nod from Ren in response. "So the king is finally having his coronation… Huh. Can't say I understand it, but I'll yell at those dumbasses if you need me to."

"How about a drink for the time being?" Ai nodded without even getting the specifics of an order. Curious about what she wanted to make, Ren let her work. Behind him, the sound of that god-awful door opening and closing scraped across the room. Footsteps followed, getting closer and closer to the bar until Ryuji stepped up and sat on the barstool next to Ren.

"Make that two… Actually, what are we drinking?"

"Be patient, asshole," Ai hissed from the other side of the bar. She was pouring mysteriously in between cups like there was no future for humankind.

Ryuji tossed his hands in the air out of frustration. Unlike Ren, his presence didn't come in moderation, therefore making it far less appreciated. "Jeez, alright." He turned to his boss and sat up straight. "So, about Yusuke…"

Ren did not want to hear it. The blue-haired bastard was nothing but bad news. Ren feared that one fateful day would feature Yusuke's full confession to detectives, or worse, the beginning of his own crime syndicate after getting lost on a backpacking trip through the East Siberian Mountains.

"What is it?"

"He's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?"

"Gone," Ryuji said with a shrug. "Not in Japan."

Ren's elbow unconsciously pressed itself into the wooden bar counter. He didn't even realize how hard he was pressing it until the throbbing in his elbow made it to his short-circuiting brain.

"Then where the fuck is he?"

"Korea, I think. That's where he goes whe—"

"What?!"

"I said Kor—"

"Kor-fucking-ea, I know!" Ren slammed his fist into the bar. He saw Ai shake her head out of the corner of his eye. Having a meltdown over Yusuke being Yusuke was the last thing that should've happened on his first trip to The 953 as the known boss, but he supposed it was better to get it out of the way while no one was in the club. Things were simpler that way. "Shit!"

"I double-checked with Keisuke. He says that he told Yusuke not to leave the country."

That meant Yusuke disobeyed the golden rule: if Keisuke Hiraga gives advice, follow it, unless that advice relates to spirituality, cooking, or family life. Keisuke knew many things, but he didn't know the truth of the world as well as he thought he did. Ren barely tolerated his religious spiels in their few meetings every year.

However, no one was better at breaking the legal system than Keisuke. He talked fast enough that everyone thought he knew what he was talking about—he usually only had vague preliminary knowledge—and let him get away with whatever he wanted.

"I also told him not to shoot anyone when I sent him to that store in Meguro, but…" Ryuji bit his tongue and closed his mouth.

"Here we are," Ren finished. He sighed into his bunched-up hands. His arms formed a triangle atop the bar, yet he felt wrong doing so. Hands needed something to do.

Shoulda offed Yusuke when you had the chance. Now, you gotta wait till he's home from his vacation, if you can even depend on him returning. Useless fuck.

Glancing down the bar, Ren saw the perfect solution to his problem. Ai poured three glasses with some dark purple-ish liquid and ice. She left one behind as she carried two over to where Ren and Ryuji sat. "Voila!"

Looks like gasoline and piss.

Neither of them reached for their drinks. "Uh… What is it?" Ryuji asked.

"Tsk tsk, Ryuji. You oughta leave your office more," Ai said. "This is the Nine. I make a bunch of them every morning for the guys. Lots of caffeine, a little bit of alcohol for the nerves, and enough taste for you to not worry about what's in it."

"That made me less thirsty," Ryuji said. He peered into the purple void that Ai made for him.

"Just try it. It's called the Nine for a reason—it wakes you up in the morning."

"I'd rather have the Five," Ren deadpanned, not expecting it to be a real drink. Ai frowned, then turned around to start making it. "Kidding. Thank you, Ebi-chan."

"Mhm." Pleased with herself, Ai backed into the side of the bar with the shelves of drinks, leaning against the back corner and crossing her arms. She expected Ren and Ryuji to finish their drinks.

Again, the aggravating noise of the door opening, then quickly shutting, ran through the bar. Ren cocked his neck side to side to stretch it, then spun around on his barstool to face whoever arrived oh-so-early to the club.

Just in front of the door stood a skinny kid who couldn't be a day over nineteen. Straight, slightly messy brown hair that spiked up in the most unnatural places made Ren feel like he was a full generation removed from what was popular.

"Good morning," Ren said as he tried to look the kid in the eye. The kid wanted nothing to do with eye contact, nor did he want to come to work that morning. Despite his youth, he had dark bags under his eyes and he could barely blink without falling asleep for a millisecond.

"Uh… Hi." He walked over to the bar, disregarding Ren's attempted analysis to give his attention to Ai. "Ebi-chan, how can I—"

"Hanamura!" Ryuji's voice stopped the teenager in his tracks, just in front of where he and Ren sat. The two of them, plus Ai from behind, stared down the teenager. "You're talking to the boss.

Hanamura's eyes slowly traveled from Ryuij's grin to Ren, the sweet sense of surprised realization on his face. "I'm so sorry, sir, it won't—" Was that really how people spoke to their boss? Ren really did need to take more of a role in the Aka Ikka's management.

"Relax. What's your name?"

"Y-Yosuke Hanamura."

"Then it's nice to meet you, Hanamura-san." Ren reached to his side, grabbing the drink that Ai made off the counter. "Want something to drink?"

He expected a very warm 'Fuck you for giving away the drink,' from Ai, yet no protest came. She knew when to shut up and when it was okay to talk casually to Ren, it seemed.

Yosuke took the drink from Ren's still hand, then brought it to his lips with less hesitation than he spoke. He gulped down four more sips than Ren dared to try from the drink. Maybe the Nine was a popular drink. "Thanks," he said, wiping his lips with his sleeve.

Ryuji spoke next. "You're here early."

Taking another giant sip from the Nine, Yosuke nodded. "I wanted to, uh, discuss some stuff with you."

"With me, or with the person in charge?"

"Uh…"

"Ebi-chan," Ren said as he turned back to face the bartender. "Could you get started on opening?" Her brow furrowed and her eyes squinted, but she nodded. Ai walked out from behind the bar and went into the storage room.

Turning back to Yosuke reminded Ren that he had to act like the boss of the family, especially now that his actions would be perceived and scrutinized by the family members. He and Ryuji stared at Yosuke with the expectation that he knew when to speak.

The look of confusion on his face showed that he didn't.

"Well?" Ryuji waved his hand to indicate to Yosuke to start. "We're ready when you are."

"Oh, uh…" Yosuke gulped. His right hand rubbed up and down the side of his jeans, then it stopped. "I have some thoughts on how we retaliate—for what happened to Shu, I mean. I want to be the one wh—"

Ren raised his hand and Yosuke stopped speaking immediately. "You want us to retaliate?"

"Isn't that—"

"Think about what would happen if we shot back. War is bad for business."

"But Shu was our brother!" Yosuke's hurt showed in his glassy eyes, but that didn't deter Ren from refusing and putting the kid in his place. "He died for us!"

"And I won't let anyone else die," Ren said calmly, "unless their death wishes get in the way of the family."

"We're gonna do nothing?!"

"Kid," Ryuji cut in. "Remember who you're talking to."

Yosuke didn't heed his superior's advice, stepping closer to Ren and using the height advantage that Ren's sitting position gave him to stare down at the boss. "Is this how we treat a brother of ours? We let them die in vain?!"

"There will be a sit-down with the Second Kaneshiro today. Nakajima, along with those that we took from them, will be discussed."

"Nah, fuck that." Yosuke spun away from Ren after losing the staring contest. He didn't have the willpower to back up all his disagreement, instead choosing to walk to the door that he entered just a few minutes prior. "I'm leaving."

"Just remember, Yosuke," Ryuji called after the pawn. "The Aka Ikka don't forget!"

Ren almost laughed at that; forgetting was the core piece of Yosuke's argument. He was right to complain about Shu not being avenged, but wrong to think it was the right way to conduct business. As callous as it was, Shu had to be forgotten for everyone's sake.

Yosuke didn't react, only opening and slamming the door shut behind him.

Ren turned back to the bar. The half-finished drink that Yosuke left behind stared at him. "Meh, he'll be back within a week. Just give him some time; Shu was his friend," Ryuji said.

"Friends, huh?"

Ren sighed. If everyone reacted to his presence the same way that Yosuke did, he would be in for a long day. It would be more efficient to just go to the Metaverse, wipe everyone in the clan from the face of the Earth, and start over.


"Ren?" Ryuji said from the cracked door to The 953's office. "Kuzuryu's here."

Ren nodded. "Send him in." He sat at a wooden desk with an outdated desktop computer. God, the Aka Ikka needed an actual office. Working out of a club was good for quelling boredom, but its amenities distracted and its squalor disgusted. If only renting an office space didn't draw so much attention…

The door opened fully to allow Ryuji and Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu to enter. Fuyuhiko's position as an upstart in Tokyo's organized crime scene made him a pain in the ass to deal with. The quick success he had after taking over his late father's clan got to his head; made him picky, arrogant, and ill-tempered. It didn't help that he was younger than Ren.

Ren found the situation amusing; the way he thought of Fuyuhiko was probably similar to how Kamoshida thought of him, minus the exceedingly violent thoughts.

"Kuzuryu-san, welcome." Ren didn't stand from his seat, only giving the short boss the bowing of his head. Customarily, Fuyuhiko gave Ren a full bow; he was on his premises and at his mercy.

"Uh-huh." Fuyuhiko took a seat in the chair across the desk from Ren. Ryuji closed the door to the office, staying inside and keeping his back to the door. Essentially, he functioned as muscle when he wasn't the boss of The 953. Yusuke would've been in that position were he not in Korea. "Before you start, Ren, I'll have you know that I've already met with Kamoshida."

Ren winced at the use of his first name. The meeting needed to go well, but not well enough that he wanted to be on a first-name basis with the Baby Bōryokudan. Fuyuhiko's round face and eyes made him look younger than he was, which was still too young for someone in his position.

"Good. What terms is he forcing on me?" Ren clasped his hands and dropped them on the desk, right behind the keyboard.

"Fucker was agreeable for once, actually." Fuyuhiko hunched over in his chair, pointing the curve of his spine at the ceiling. His terrible posture was the subject of a concerned stare from Ryuji. "First off, the sit-down is happening on my turf tonight."

Ren had plans with his wife, but exceptions could be made.

"Done." Doing the sit-down at The 953 or a Second Kaneshiro club would be disastrous. Location bias meant perceived threats, expectations, and weapons being drawn when they didn't need to be.

"Second of all," Fuyuhiko continued, "Kamoshida—at my suggestion—wants no weapons."

Ren rolled his eyes. "But he gets to bring them, right?"

"Nope. He's pussying out of that."

Ren glanced at Ryuji, who shook his head. The advice was considered as Ren thought about the situation. Hopefully, the tension would never get high enough for weapons to be necessary. Sit-downs existed to produce peace agreements, not destroy any chance of them. Ren would be there to mitigate; he just questioned if Kamoshida's intentions were the same.

"Fine. No guns, no knives."

"And, er…" Fuyuhiko glanced around the room. Ren assumed he was scanning for any useful information about the Aka Ikka, though his eyes revealed nothing. "His last demand was an apology."

"He's setting high expectations for himself, then."

"No, he means—"

"Fuck, I know, Fuyuhiko. It was a joke." Ren leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "He wants an apology from me? What'd I do?"

"He said it's for Yuuki Mishima and… Shit, what was his name? You know, the store manager?"

"I don't know, but I know of him." Ren shook his head. "Still, no apology."

"He insisted on it."

"All we've heard about Mishima is that he's missing."

"Ren, come on. Just work with me a little."

"Kamoshida had his demands, here are mine. I'll apologize for the convenience store shooting if he apologizes for the accusation."

Fuyuhiko scooted his chair closer to the desk. "Ren. We both know that you—"

"Oh, you know more than me?"

"I didn't fucking—"

"I don't know shit about Yuuki Mishima, and neither do you by the sound of it. I wonder what the elder Kuzuryu would've thought about his clan's intel turning into a shitshow…"

"Fuck you. You don't know shit about my dad, or my clan."

"Would you like to argue about it?"

Fuyuhiko's nostrils flared, his eyes darkened, and he scowled. His round face grew red, telling Ren that he'd won without much effort. "I'm here to plan the sit-down—nothing more."

"That's why you haven't been removed from the club—because the sit-down hasn't been planned." Ren crossed his leg under the table as he got comfortable. "Will there be appetizers at—"

"I won't let an arrogant shithead like you insult me," Fuyuhiko interrupted.

"Then it seems I'm more tolerant than you. I've been putting up with that for the past few minutes." Ren looked at Ryuji. The temporary bodyguard, who didn't need that much muscle to intimidate the unarmed Fuyuhiko, uncrossed his arms and stopped leaning on the door. Fuyuhiko quickly looked over his shoulder, then back to Ren. "Before this conversation continues, I want an apology."

Fuyuhiko huffed and puffed, glancing between Ren and Ryuji to decide who was more of an immediate threat. "Every boss in Tokyo's gonna hate your guts if this is how you treat your friends."

Ren smiled. Friends? Fuyuhiko could have been substituted for any boss in the city that wasn't allied with the Second Kaneshiro. All his importance depended on him being a third party; not a perceived relationship with Ren. "They're supposed to hate me. It's a competition, isn't it?" Ren said through a smirk.

Fuyuhiko's face scrunched as his gaze sunk downward. Ren's eyes blazed holes through Fuyuhiko's head as the young boss considered his options. After a few tense seconds, his head came back up. "Fine. I'm sorry for implying what I did and yeah, don't apologize to Kamoshida for Mishima. I'll work something out with him."

"Good."

"Then… That brings me to the last point of contention. Kamoshida wants to bring five men."

"No. Cut it off at three including him."

"Are you sure?"

"I'd prefer one, but I should make a compromise now and save the hard bargaining for later, right?"

"Fine. Have it your way." Fuyuhiko stood up, an act that challenged Ren to rush his words before his guest left. Unfortunately for Fuyuhiko, Ren said all that he wanted. "Any demands that you have?"

"You're running the pat downs, right?" Ren got a brisk nod from Fuyuhiko in response. "Don't worry about it. I'll have one of mine take care of it."

"That's it? That's all you want?"

"Yep."

"You got it, then." Fuyuhiko opened his mouth to speak again, but Ren stood up and silenced him. He towered over the Baby Bōryokudan, which clearly wasn't appreciated. Just as it happened earlier, Fuyuhiko's nostrils flared.

"Thank you for your time, Kuzuryu-san." Ren's hand reached across the desk. Fuyuhiko took offense, this time unintentionally on Ren's part. Genuinely, all he wanted was to kick Fuyuhiko out of the club without any more offense.

Reluctantly, Fuyuhiko matched the gesture and firmly shook Ren's hand. They disengaged and bowed to each other. "We'll send the location an hour before," Fuyuhiko said as he turned around to face Ryuji and the doorway. The saiko-komon opened the door and let Fuyuhiko brush past him. Ren smiled to himself as he sat down at the desk.

The door closed.

"Think that went well?" Ryuji asked, approaching the desk with crossed arms.

"It went exceptionally well." Ren looked at the black screen of the computer; his faded reflection looked him in the eye. "Could you step out for a moment? Got to give Hifumi a call."

"Ah… She can't wait until the work day is over?"

Ren shook his head. "I just want to start an argument."

"Understandable." Ryuji backed away from the desk, then walked out of the office without a second word.

Ren muttered obscenities as he slid his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up his wife's contact and tapped the button to call her. The cold glass of the phone's screen pressed against his ear without much anticipation; Hifumi picked up almost immediately. "Hey, Hifumi. Gonna have to cancel date night."

"What?! Ren, we just—"

"I know, I know. Sorry. Some really important stuff is happening at work and—"

"Ren." The sharpness of Hifumi's voice cut through Ren's uncaring thoughts. By just saying his name, she commanded his full attention. "Are you telling me the truth?"

Ren's face scrunched up in confusion. He was telling her the truth, for once. "Yeah." He wasn't used to his truth being questioned, only his lies.

"Ren…" Instead of her voice being sharp, it barely made it through the phone because of its soft texture. "Is there someone else?"

Ren desperately wanted to hang up the phone and do anything other than converse with his wife. "What? No, there isn't. I—"

"I know, I know… You've been stranger than usual lately, and—"

Ren stopped listening so he could clarify what he found most important. "I'm strange to you?"

"—we aren't as intimate as we used to be." It seemed Hifumi didn't want to listen to him either. Nothing would stop her from saying heinous things over the phone.

"I am not having this conversation over—"

"Do you love me, Ren?"

"Yes, I love you." Ren looked at the door to the office, expecting it to fall over with a crowd of people atop it. He wouldn't blame them for listening; Hifumi's phone call would make for exquisite gossip. "And there's no one else for me. You're perfect. We'll talk more about it later, okay? I need—"

"When is later? You always say that, and then we never—"

"Later means at a better time. How about tonight when I'm back from work?"

"Okay…" Hifumi pouted through the phone. Ren pinched the bridge of his nose in relief that he didn't have to endure more of the conversation. "Promise me you won't be too tired."

Ren jumped on the opportunity. "I promise. Alright, talk to you later. Bye." He hung up without another word and slid his phone back into his pocket. Leaning forward in his chair, his face found the palms of his hands as a long, celebratory exhale left him.

He sat like that as long as he could. A knock at the door corrected his posture and refocused him on the things that mattered in his life. "Yes?" he said loudly to invite the knocker in.

The door cracked open, letting a pair of gray eyes peer through the door for a slight moment. It swung fully open a moment later, hitting a filing cabinet with a clang that made both Ren and his guest wince.

"Sorry," Kanji Tatsumi said. The tall, muscular man shut the door with much more grace than he opened it with, then turned around to face Ren. "Sakamoto sent me."

"Oh." Ren waved his hand at the chair across from him. Kanji obeyed and sat down in the loosest position imaginable. His lanky arms dangled over the back of the chair while both legs stretched out far enough for his feet to touch the desk. Ren didn't pay attention beyond that. "Ryuji chose you to fill in for Yusuke while he's gone."

"Yeah, that's what they told me."

"So you'll drive me to the sit-down later?"

Kanji nodded. "No problem."

"You'll follow me into wherever it takes place, then I expect you to pat down each of Kamoshida's guys. Sound doable?"

"Very."

"Good. What has Ryuji had you running until now?"

"Enforcement, mostly. It's 'cause of my size, I think, but he never said."

No shit it was because of his size. Kanji was the most intimidating person in the Aka Ikka and looked like he spent time working out, compared to his peers who found breathed heavily every time they got up from watching the dancers.

"I'm surprised you're willing to take on new responsibilities," Ren said. "Must be easy to go around Tokyo scaring people into continuing to give us money."

Kanji shrugged. "Eh. I got bored. And I don't like scaring people." Ren raised an eyebrow, which sent Kanji into an urgent over-correction. "I mean, I'll do what I gotta do, but—"

"Relax. I get it." Ren moved on to a different subject to take the pressure off of Kanji. "You know Yosuke?" Upon receiving an eager nod, Ren continued with the question he wanted to ask. "What do you and the other guys think of him?"

"He's a dude with big ideas. He really wants it."

"It?"

Kanji looked down. He took the time to consider what he meant. "He wants to be something, and he'll take the fastest route to doing that."

"Alright." From Ren's understanding, Yosuke was hot-headed and quick to jump from idea to idea. That was why he stormed out of The 953 in the presence of the actual boss, and why he even dared to propose a retaliatory idea to the clan. He had enough arrogance to go around, likely caused by the fact he got to run a mini-crew. Letting Yosuke take charge of three other guys, now two, should never have gotten past Ryuji.

Kanji ended Ren's contemplative silence. "I dunno if the rest of us respect him, but his crew stick their necks out for him when he gets bad-mouthed. They like him a lot," he added.

Ren nodded. He had all he needed to assess Yosuke. His disobedience and hot-headedness didn't seem like a problem yet, but he would keep an eye on it. For the time being, it was baseless, youthful rebelliousness.

"Boss, I…" Kanji looked behind him at the door, refraining from continuing his sentence. When he turned back to Ren, he found a curious stare. "I got a question."

"Go ahead."

"Have you been in charge this whole time?"

"Yes."

"Then why wait to show up?"

"Do you want the boss's answer or my honest one?"

"Uh…"

Because the Aka Handan Ikka were fucking themselves over with mistake after mistake.

"Shu is dead, and that's a scary thing for all of us. If we're going to navigate around a war, then we have to have a face to put our faith in."

"And you didn't trust Ryuji to do that?"

Kanji was keener than he seemed, even if he discerned something that wasn't true. At least, not entirely true.

Ren smiled, placing his hands on the desk. "There's more risk to what we do than ever before. The fact that all of us aren't killing each other to fill the Tosu-sized hole is a miracle. I'm here to delay war as long as possible, then win when it finally arrives."

"You're confident in us?"

"Right now?" Ren's smile dropped. "No. It'd be the most infamous organized crime murder spree of all time. Why do you think we're meeting today to maintain the peace?"

"Is that possible? The port is—"

"Fuck the port. Kamoshida will have to share, or else we'll pick them off one by one." Ren's words lingered in Kanji's silence. Kanji likely heard about the strange bōryokudan deaths that made the headlines every few months that troubled every family except the Aka Ikka. Smuggling trucks were driven off bridges and suicide rates of men with full-body tattoos rose. Maybe Kanji pieced things together, maybe he didn't. "And he knows that. We'll arrange something tonight. If not… We'll figure it out. You know... It's almost time to go."

"I thought we had another hour."

"Nope. I need to change into something nicer, and I don't want to go home because the wife is there." It was a careless waste of money, but Ren really, really didn't want to speak with Hifumi. She would waste his time and there was never enough of that. "I'll just buy something new."