Hello everyone, I'm sorry for the delayed update. If you receive a story alert, you'll notice that this chapter is lengthy; it's more than 11,000 words (28 pages on the Word) so it took me some time to write.
The idea for this chapter came from Samerys707. Thank you!
And I am forever in your debt, RiveReinStyx. Thank you for being an awesome beta!
Disclaimer: The only decent character I own here is Toru. Everything else belongs to Yamane Ayano sensei.
Warnings: lengthy chapter, cliché plot
Mainichi Shinbun's editor-in-chief Takeda squinted his eyes at the photograph he was holding, trying to make sense of the photo while photographer Takaba Akihito sat across him. Like a student having been caught by the disciplinary teacher, Akihito fidgeted in his seat worriedly as he waited for Takeda's verdict.
"It's no good; we can't run this," Takeda said finally, sliding the photograph across his desk.
"But, that's clearly Sakaki and Kuroda!" Akihito said desperately. He leaned his body forward, pushing the photo back to Takeda, pointing his fore finger to the two blurred individuals in the photograph.
"They do resemble Sakaki and Kuroda but the photos are not very clear," Takeda replied as he leaned back against his leather chair. "We can't run this; no one would believe that they're the top guns of the Sakaki and Kuroda clans."
"But –" Akihito protested.
"Takaba, you're a photographer. You should know this better than anyone else. Printing an unclear image like this will bring us nothing but trouble. My desk will be piled with lawyer letters from the two clans before I can even send the paper for mass printing," the fifty-three year old editor replied. "Not to mention you'll put your life in danger."
Akihito nodded glumly. Truthfully, he had expected that from Takeda. His initial plans were to hide behind a huge trash bin for a clearer shot; if he were lucky, he could even record the conversation between the two yakuza bosses but Toru had other ideas especially when it concerned his safety. The guard had pulled him away, under Asami's orders he presumed; and made him stand a mile away.
Okay, maybe not a mile but still it was far enough, Akihito scowled. The meeting took place past midnight near a harbor and there's only one stingy lamp post nearby to illuminate the entire area. Using his flash was out of question, so Akihito snapped what he could. Even before developing the photographs, he knew that they would never turn out well.
He had to admit that he was somehow relieved that Toru had forcibly removed him despite his protests. Akihito hadn't seen in firsthand but the Sakaki-gumi and Kuroda-gumi were well-known for their notoriety; and Akihito was told by his reporter friends that even the police were cautious about them. To be dragged away by Toru was simply a blessing in disguise.
Akihito mumbled his thanks before making his way out of the building. He heaved his heavy camera bag on his shoulders while his guard followed behind in silence.
"Toru, I would have been able to sell those photos if you didn't pull me away from my hiding place," Akihito said the minute they stepped out of the building.
Toru bowed. "I apologize Takaba sama. Even if Asami sama didn't give the orders, I would have done the same."
Akihito sighed, hating the fact that he was using Toru as an excuse of his own failures. "I supposed it's not really your fault. I should have ditched you and went on my own."
The lanky guard looked at his master, "Takaba sama, it's very dangerous to be near those men. They're armed."
"Your boss isn't exactly tamed either," Akihito spoke before he could think and immediately his gaze went to his guard. Toru stood still but Akihito didn't miss the flicker in Toru's stoic expression. To be able to elicit such expression from the usually unresponsive guard could only mean one thing: Asami Ryuichi is a man they cannot afford to mess with.
"Takaba sama, please do not joke about this. You safety is our top priority," Toru said, taking Akihito's heavy camera bag from him. Akihito immediately jammed his fingers into his jeans pocket.
"Where is your coat, Takaba sama?"
The photographer groaned. "I must have left it on the visitor's chair."
Toru removed his coat, draping it around the photographer. "I'll get it for you. Please wait here, Ando is bringing the car around from the basement parking."
When Toru disappeared into the building, Akihito pulled Toru's coat tighter around him, rubbing his fingers repeatedly for some warmth before slipping them into the pockets. As he rocked his body forth and back, he wondered how Asami's coat would have felt around him. Probably warmer than Toru's coat, Akihito thought and suppressed an urge to steal Asami's coat to try it on later in the evening.
"Takaba!"
The unfamiliar voice had Akihito whirled around. He almost froze when he saw Ishida Atsuki sauntering towards him. A month ago, Akihito robbed Ishida of his money and camera when the journalist showed Akihito photographs of Asami in a very compromising situation. He had never gotten past his guilt, knowing how awful it is for a cameraman to lose his most precious tool. It felt like someone had just torn a limb away.
Akihito noticed that Ishida had gotten himself a replacement for his stolen camera. The camera was slightly newer but the functions were almost similar to its predecessor. As Ishida walked confidently towards him, Akihito forced himself to remain calm, trying to look genuinely surprised with Ishida's presence.
"Ishida, what are you doing here?" he asked nervously.
Almost standing at Akihito's height, the tabloid photographer had his shoulder length hair tied half, leaving a few messy locks tuck behind his ears. His dark brown eyes stared at Akihito, mocking. Thin lips curved into a smile, he walked confidently to Akihito like a man who had just struck a million dollar lottery.
"I have to see Takeda," Ishida replied, sliding his hands into his jeans and smiled.
Akihito hated that smile; it was devious and it screamed hidden motives. It was obvious that Ishida was holding on to a great piece of information and from the looks of it, he was ready to let it slip. Akihito knew that he shouldn't have asked but he was curious about Ishida's trump card.
"Why do you need to see Takeda?"
Ishida's lips spread wide, showing his nicotine stained teeth. "I have some very important information for him."
You liar, how could you have information for Takeda when you're working for a rival tabloid? Their encounter in front of Mainichi Shinbun was clearly not accidental; Ishida obviously had something to share and he had been waiting for a rare opportunity to speak with Akihito, alone.
"What sort of information?"
"Oh, the news is pretty exciting, perhaps the biggest I've gotten so far," Ishida said, leaning forward. "Asami Ryuichi, Japan's top crime lord has a lover –"
Akihito froze on his spot. Shock must have written all over his face because Ishida looked damn smug about it.
"Wh – what are you saying?" Akihito stammered.
Ishida grinned. "You know perfectly what I am saying, Takaba." He slid his hands into his pockets and pulled out a few photographs. "Look, Asami Ryuichi in Ginza and guess who was beside him?"
Suddenly, Toru's coat lost all its warmth. The contents of the photographs sent shivers down Akihito's spine. Asami had his hands on Akihito's waist as they entered the – no, his apparel store in Ginza.
"Interesting, isn't it?" Ishida kept the photographs. "And here I thought you were skilled enough to get scoops on the Sion story on your own. Turns out you were spreading your legs for the big boss."
"You – "
Ishida grinned again. "I'm not wrong, am I?" Ishida finished the sentence for Akihito. "There's this other interesting thing. I was robbed a month ago. Coincidentally enough, I got robbed after I showed you some pictures of Asami Ryuichi in a warehouse, pointing his gun at a Chinese man."
"You – got robbed?" Akihito asked, hating where the conversation was leading to.
Ishida's eyes narrowed. "Drop the act, Akihito. I know it was you who robbed me. When that guard of yours struck me from behind, I managed to catch a glimpse of my attacker."
Akihito averted his eyes to the side.
"To confirm my suspicions, the man who fed me information about the warehouse disappeared," Ishida said, moving nearer to whisper near Akihito's ear.
Tongue tied, the photographer could only stare at Ishida. Finally, after several uncomfortable seconds, he croaked, "What do you want from me?"
Ishida threw his head back, laughed. "I thought you'd never asked," he said, smiling widely. "Simple. All you have to do is feed me information about Asami Ryuichi's underworld activities and I'll forget – "
"NO!" Akihito blurted out. He might not approve of Asami's illegal activities but that didn't mean that he'd betray him. And didn't Asami say that he'd track Akihito down to the end of the abyss if he did that?
"Don't you care what will happen if I leak these pictures to Takeda? What about the robbing? Once I report to the police, that'll be the end of your career," the other man growled.
Akihito closed his eyes, imagining the consequences. Ishida didn't have anything solid to prove that he was the culprit behind the robbery. As for his job, he'd be sad but the thought of betraying Asami outweighed his concern for his job. He snapped his eyes open again, determined.
"Do what you want, I am not bothered," he said, turning to walk into the building.
"You're really the fearless Takaba I hear people say. I knew you won't give in easily, so I am prepared to renegotiate," Ishida said, grabbing Akihito's arm.
"I'm not interested," Akihito replied, brushing his arm away.
"You will when you see this."
If the photographs earlier sent shivers down Akihito's spine, the new picture that Ishida pulled out from his pockets made his hair stood on ends. The photographs that Akihito thought he had destroyed reappeared again – the same ones where Asami was pointing a gun at Mah at an unidentified warehouse.
"I thought –" Akihito began and halted when he noticed he was almost admitting to the robbery.
"You thought you had taken everything from me?" Ishida finished the sentence for Akihito. He smirked, "You almost did but I took the last shot with my cell since my camera's memory card was full. I had two phones and your mistake was you didn't search my pockets."
When Akihito remained silent, shell shocked from the unexpected turn of events, Ishida continued, "Now that I've gotten your attention, let's talk business," he smiled broadly.
Xx Business as Usual xX
The coat wasn't at Takeda's visitor's chair. Toru found it on the sofa in the visitors' lounge, draped neatly on the arms of the cushion. He took it, quickly made his way down to the main entrance, opting to use the staircase instead of waiting for the elevator. Toru had an unexplained discomfort about leaving Akihito alone for so long and hoped that his master would still be standing on the same spot or better, waiting in the car with Ando.
The minute Toru pushed open the doors to the emergency staircase; his eyes darted to the automatic glass doors, scanning for the light haired photographer in his trench coat. His relief of seeing his master standing near the main entrance was short-lived when he saw an all too familiar figure next to him.
What is Ishida Atsuki doing here? Toru quickened his steps to the main entrance. Eyes never left Ishida, the guard slid his hand into his jacket, gripping his gun tightly. His silent glares must have alerted Ishida because the photographer looked up suddenly and smiled. No wonder Takaba sama said that he hated that smile, Toru thought, deciding that it was the most unpleasant smile he had seen.
"I'll call you again," was all Toru managed to hear before Ishida patted his master's shoulder and walked away, whistling.
The guard watched Ishida strode away confidently before turning to his master. He nearly cursed. Akihito had gone sheet paled, his hazel eyes wide opened as he continued to stare at Ishida's back without a word.
"Takaba sama? Are you all right?" Toru placed a hand on Akihito's shoulder.
The younger man jerked. "Toru! When did you arrive?"
Shit, Something was clearly off for Akihito to miss his presence. "Are you all right? What did he want?" he asked again.
"No—nothing, he was just saying hello," Akihito scratched his head, laughing nervously. "I was a little shocked; that jerk managed to get the scoop I wanted," he quickly added when Toru continued to look at him in disbelief.
His master was lying; he wouldn't avert his eyes if he didn't. "Takaba sama, please tell me what happened; I can help you."
"You're being a worrywart, Toru," Akihito replied, punching Toru's arm lightly.
"Oh look, there's Ando! Let's go; I really got to get home to cook for Asami. Today's dinner menu is traditional Japanese and the preparation is a pain! Hurry up; I won't be able to finish on time if we don't get back now. You know your boss," Akihito lamented, quickly opened the door to the Bentley and slid in.
Toru had never seen Akihito behaving so fidgety to the point he was blabbing. The normal Akihito he knew would be spewing profanities about Asami's meal preferences, not making excuses to hurry home to cook.
Without a word, Toru closed the door and moved to the front. He murmured instructions for Ando and as the car sped away, Akihito stared outside the window, deep in his thoughts. Even Ando noticed something was amiss with their young boss; he kept on glancing at the rear view mirror, checking on the photographer.
When they finally reached, Akihito entered the penthouse and didn't extend the invitation to Toru. The guard did not push it; he needed time to discuss things with Ando anyways.
"What's wrong, Toru san? Did you have a fight with Takaba sama?" Ando asked the minute he exited the elevator.
Toru glanced at the closed doors of the penthouse briefly before explaining the incident earlier at Mainichi Shinbun.
The younger guard, who wasn't as composed as Toru, immediately cursed. "That bastard; what do you want me to do, Toru san? Shall we rough him up a little?"
"No, we'll wait until Asami sama returns. Meanwhile, inform the concierge to be on the lookout; in case Takaba sama tries to leave without us. I have a bad premonition about this."
Ando's thick eyebrows narrowed. "Understood," he said and left.
Toru sighed before retrieving his phone again, disliking what he was about to do next. Punching Kirishima's number, he leaned against the wall as he waited for the call to be answered. He had a feeling that it was going to be a long call.
Xx Business as Usual xX
Shortly before eleven in the evening, Japan's number one crime lord strode out from the elevator and he wasn't pleased. The reports from Kirishima came just when he was about to chair an unavoidable meeting with his business counterpart from Russia. The meeting could have ended sooner but the Russians were good negotiators; and after debating for nearly an hour, they finally reached an agreement with the firearm dealings. Asami was tired and the last thing he wanted to hear was Akihito getting involved in something dangerous.
Toru was standing stiffly at the front door when he arrived. "Asami sama," the guard greeted.
Asami's golden eyes pierced at Toru. "Did Akihito say anything?"
Toru trembled slightly at Asami's sharp gaze. "My apologies, Asami sama; he brushed me off every time I brought up the subject," he bowed deeply.
He won't give in easily, Asami thought. No amount of sugar coating can make him yield; perhaps only in bed when he's too aroused to care about his pride. Asami decided that if Akihito remained stubborn about the matter, he'd do exactly so to make him talk.
"I want him in your sight at all times. He's not to be left alone, are we clear?" Asami ordered.
Toru bowed. "Understood."
"Get Kirishima to copy Ishida's file for you," the crime lord said again. He turned to the bulky guard behind him, "Suoh, put an eye on Ishida for now. I want to know what he's up to."
"Very good, sir."
With that, Asami dismissed his guards and opened the door to the penthouse. He wasn't at all surprised to find that Akihito wasn't at his usual spot, eyes glued to the idiot box. Instead, he found his lover in the kitchen with an apron tied around his slender waist, taking a sip of the miso soup from the ladle.
Asami leaned his shoulder against the wall. "Akihito."
The lovely shoulders jerked before turning around. "Hey, you're back. I – made your favorite Mackerel fish with miso soup. Just give me a few more minutes and I'll be done."
Toru's reports were accurate; something was off with Akihito. His lover didn't call him names, didn't snarl and was even playing his housewife role. Akihito's gaze met him only for a brief moment before quickly averting them to the side. He gave a nervous laugh, an attempt to divert Asami's attention away from his troubled eyes but the yakuza knew better. Asami had memorized Akihito's every quirk.
Asami folded his arms, staring at Akihito's back. "What did Ishida want from you?" he asked, finding it pointless to beat around the bush
The shoulders jerked again. Without turning, the photographer said, "Nothing. Toru must have fed you with unnecessary information again."
Asami moved closer to Akihito, wrapping a hand around his waist. He cupped Akihito's chin with his other hand, angling the photographer's neck, turning it sideways and slightly backwards to meet his gaze.
"Hey, I'm cooking!" Akihito protested.
The yakuza released his lover's slender waist to turn the electric cooktop off before securing it around Akihito again.
"Akihito, you're a poor liar," Asami said and crushed their mouths together.
"I'm not!"
Asami turned him around, swinging him up into his arms. Dumping him on the couch in the living room, the crime lord caged Akihito's hands above his head, hovering above him.
"Look at me," Asami commanded.
Akihito obeyed, meeting Asami's penetrating golden orbs. He looked away again.
The boy was obviously lying. Akihito's hazel eyes seemed to be displaying various emotions at once – worry, uncertainty, fear; and Asami didn't like it at all. He bet himself a million yen that Akihito was about to do something foolish and from the looks of it; something dangerous.
Releasing the boy, Asami decided that he needed to change strategy to get the boy to talk. He loosened his tie; the same one Akihito bought for him, letting it fall on the couch.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Asami said, watching the photographer's eyes widened by his statement.
"But," he continued, turning his back towards Akihito to walk to their bedroom, "I will get my answers. You can choose to tell me yourself or I'll get Toru to look for Ishida. You have until I finish my shower to decide."
Barely a few seconds later, Akihito stood up from the couch and caught Asami's arm. Resting his head in between Asami's shoulder blades, he murmured, "Fine, I'll tell you. We'll talk after you've showered and eaten."
Asami smirked before turning around to lift Akihito's chin. Kissing him on his lips, he disappeared into the master bedroom.
Xx Business as Usual xX
The minute Akihito heard the shower running in the master bedroom, he ran to his work room, grabbed his back pack and fled the penthouse. He had been planning the entire day, thinking of a way he could escape undetected and he figured the best time to do so was during times like this – when Asami is home and in the shower. The yakuza had most probably dismissed his guards by then, giving it the perfect chance for Akihito to slip out unnoticed.
He took the private elevator to the garage, gripping the keys to his Vespa tightly. He always knew where Asami had kept the keys but he didn't bother taking it because he found it pointless to argue with his guard about riding his Vespa to work during winter.
The garage was empty when he reached but he wasn't about to take any chances. His hazel eyes scanned around, checking for Asami's men before stepping out. Jamming the mushroom-shape helmet on his head, he zipped up his jacket before inserting the keys. The tiny engine hummed to life and Akihito was surprised that the machine was well maintained despite it hasn't been used for a few months.
Braving the cold weather, Akihito rode his motorbike out of the building, ignoring the first draft of cold air seeping into his jacket, choosing to accelerate instead. His conversation with Ishida rang hollow in his head.
"Now that I've gotten your attention, let's talk business."
"What business? I told you I wouldn't do it. Whether I get you information about Asami or you leak the photo to the media, you're still going to drag Asami down."
Ishida smirked. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure I can dig some dirt on Asami Ryuichi myself. What I need you to do is even more exciting."
Akihito took a step back, eying the other photographer. "Wh—what?"
Ishida leaned nearer. "I'm sure you know about the meet-up between Kuroda and Sakaki right? I heard they're having talks again at Club Ageha tonight."
"Why are you telling me this? Shouldn't this be your scoop?"
"Oh, it's going to be my scoop but you're going to get the exclusives for me. I want to know the reason for their meet up," Ishida whispered.
"You want me to record their conversation?" Akihito asked, shocked.
Ishida laughed. "That's why you're the star cameraman, Takaba! I knew you'd understand."
"No! Do you have some loose screws in your head? You want me to sneak in a club, full of yakuzas, take photographs and record their conversation?"
"Takaba, I thought you're the type who lives on the edge? You've done numerous undercover jobs, what's one more?"
Akihito looked at Ishida's gleaming eyes. "Those are different. The undercover jobs involved politicians, not yakuzas. I only took photographs of yakuzas from a safe distance."
"I believe you don't have a choice. It's either that or Asami's photograph goes to the press," Ishida smiled. "You choose."
As Akihito stood thinking in the cold, Ishida patted Akihito's shoulder. "Well?"
"I'll do it," Akihito gritted the words out. "I get the stuff you wanted, you return that copy to me."
Ishida's smile broadened. "Deal."
Honestly, Akihito wasn't sure how he felt about the entire undercover job. Blackmail, he corrected himself as he turned into the junction. He was more worried than afraid because knowing that cunning journalist; Ishida wouldn't barter for the goods easily. Akihito has to formulate a plan to get back the photographs back but first, he has a job to do.
Xx Business as Usual xX -
Something wasn't right, Asami was certain of it when he stepped out of the bathroom. The apartment was quiet, devoid of any sounds that indicate his lover was at home. Akihito is usually loud; even if he wasn't busy at the kitchen, he'd lounge on the sofa, laughing as he watched the silliest comedy shows Asami had ever seen. Wrapping a towel loosely around his waist, the yakuza padded to the living room; he wasn't there. He went to Akihito's work room next, hoping to see the photographer sulking on his computer chair or burying himself with work. There was no sign of him either.
He reached for his phone, calling the photographer. The phone rang, which was a surprised because he thought Akihito would have switched off his phone. His surprised was only for a moment when he heard the device vibrating in Akihito's work room.
Gripping the phone tightly, the yakuza let out a half laugh. He had to give credit to his lover. Who would have thought Akihito would go missing when he was with him? And to think Akihito outsmarted him by leaving his phone behind on purpose so Asami couldn't trace him through GPS.
The thing that is bothering Akihito must be huge enough for him to resort to this and if Asami's predictions are correct, it has something to do with him.
The humorless laughed stopped and the yakuza turned ice. His dark eyebrows narrowed, the muscles of his face tightened as he dialed Kirishima's number.
"Kirishima, Akihito sneaked out. Gather the rest at the penthouse in five minutes," he ordered coolly.
Asami went back in the room, donning his dress pants and white shirt. Leaving the top three buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, he went to his safe, punching in the code to retrieve his gun. He was surprised that the keys to the Vespa were missing. So, Akihito found out the code to the safe, Asami thought grimly.
By the time he stepped out from the room, four of his best men: Suoh, Kirishima, Toru and Ando had gathered in the living room, perfectly dressed in their black suits. Asami accepted the glass of liquor from Kirishima and drained the brandy in one shot, welcoming the strong fiery liquid down his throat.
Kirishima was the first to speak, "Asami sama, twenty men are downstairs and they are ready to move."
The yakuza nodded in response before turning his attention to his personal guard. "Suoh, have the men located Ishida?"
Suoh stepped forward. "Yes, Asami sama. I've just received reports that Ishida is currently at home. Kanda and Makoto are currently stationed outside his apartment."
"Send them in. I want some answers and if he's unwilling to provide them, break his fingers– one at the time," Asami ordered as Kirishima refilled his glass.
"Understood," replied the bulky guard.
"Put it on loud speaker, I want to hear that bastard scream," Asami ordered again, swirling his brandy.
Suoh did as he was told. He barked the orders on the phone before setting it on the table in front of Asami. None spoke as they listened to the rushing footsteps up the apartment where Ishida stayed. Kanda rapped his knuckles on the door, calling out for Ishida's name.
Eventually, a disgruntled reply came and the door was opened. Ishida didn't even have time to finish his sentence when the guards attacked. A loud crashing sound was heard and then, silence.
"Where is Takaba Akihito?" one of the men growled and a loud smack could be heard.
Ishida groaned. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Smack
"Where is he?" The voice was louder this time.
"I don't know who Takaba Akihito is," Ishida croaked.
Smack
Asami lost patience and grabbed the phone. "Kanda, break his finger," he ordered.
"Yes, Asami sama," Kanda replied before addressing his partner. "You heard the boss, his finger."
"No, please no. I swear I don't – ARG!" Ishida screamed and a loud bone crushing sound was heard.
"Takaba Akihito, where is he?" Kanda growled at the sobbing Ishida. When Ishida didn't reply, Kanda spoke, "Asami sama, he's still not talking, your orders?"
If Ishida were right in front of him, Asami would have personally sliced off his tongue. Controlling his anger, he ordered again, "The next finger."
This time, Kanda needn't addressed his partner.
Crack.
Ishida screamed from the pain.
"Speak or I'll break the next," Kanda bellowed.
Still sobbing, Ishida finally replied, "Cl—club Ageha."
"Asami sama, what should we do with him?" Kanda spoke through the loud speaker.
"Bring him to the warehouse and tie him to a chair, I want to know what he said to Akihito," Asami said, passing the phone back to Suoh. He stood up, buttoning his shirt. "Kirishima, who owns Club Ageha?"
Kirishima stepped forward to fix his boss's cufflinks. "I believe it's the Kuroda-gumi."
Asami knew his lover was snooping around the Kuroda-gumi lately; Toru reported that Akihito even took some shots of him with Sakaki. Since both clans posed no threats to Asami, he let the matter slide.
Fully dressed now, he took the gun from the table, checked the magnum. Satisfied with the condition of his gun, he kept it in his shoulder holster and scanned the four men in front of him.
"Let's pay Club Ageha a visit."
Xx Business as Usual xX
It took great pains but Akihito managed to secure a waiter's uniform after knocking out cold a worker named Jun who was throwing the rubbish at the back alley.
The black dress pants, long sleeve white shirt, bow and vest were one size too big but Akihito figured he couldn't be too picky about it at the moment. Besides, he needed some room to hide his mini recorder so it was a blessing that the shirt wasn't tight fitted.
After hiding the unconscious worker behind a huge rubbish bin, he walked into the club through the back door and into the kitchen. He was initially worried if someone might recognize that he wasn't Jun but everyone was minding their own businesses that no one gave him a second look. One uniformed worker went out for garbage disposal; one uniformed worker came back in and that was it.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing here, newbie! Get your ass to work," a man with a high chef hat shouted.
That made perfect sense why no one recognized him, Akihito thought and quickly walked pass the angry sous chef.
"Newbie, take this to Kuroda sama," one of the chef's assistants ordered, pushing a dish of freshly sliced sashimi to Akihito's hands.
Akihito took the offered dish, scanning around for the door. Fortunately a worker came in to place an order so he was saved from asking the angry chefs to be shown to the door. He pushed the door open and was greeted with loud music, thick smoke and people- a lot of people.
Club Ageha bore no resemblance with The Fixer. Everything about the club screamed cheap; the music, the interiors, furniture - even the patrons looked a class lower than those who frequented Sion and The Fixer. Now he understood why it was so darn difficult to get into those clubs.
Pushing unnecessary thoughts away, Akihito ordered himself to stay focus on his job. He moved around, scanning the club for possible places that the yakuza bosses might be having their discussions, all the while avoiding looking like a lost sheep.
He lifted an eyebrow when he scouted two men in dark suits guarding the elevator. They must be on the top floor, Akihito told himself. Straightening his back, hands gripping the plate of sashimi tightly, he walked to the direction, praying that his courage wouldn't fail him.
"Where do you think you're going?" one of the guards who resembled Suoh's size stopped him.
Courage, Akihito.
"Sashimi for Kuroda sama," Akihito spoke confidently.
The guard looked as if he wanted to find fault with Akihito's plate of sashimi but eventually stepped aside for him to pass. The minute the door to the elevator closed, Akihito's knees weakened.
Courage, Akihito, he told himself again as he leaned against the wall for some support. He wondered if he had made the right decision, keeping it from Asami. Telling Asami about the entire deal with Ishida could only place the freelance photographer in grave danger; and he would have done it if he didn't feel so darn guilty about it. He reminded himself that it was his fault that Ishida was blackmailing him.
The faint 'ting' sound marked his arrival to the top floor. Akihito straightened his body, tried his best to appear calm as the elevator doors slid open. The two guards stationed at the entrance of the elevator eyed him curiously.
Shit, he had forgotten about his hidden camera and recorder. Praying that the guards wouldn't do a full body search on him, he quickly muttered, "Kuroda sama's orders."
The guards looked at each other before nodding their heads. They opened the door, revealing a private viewing room of the club and two of Tokyo's most notorious yakuzas sitting across each other.
"Finally! What took you so long?" The man whom Akihito recognized as Kuroda asked. From what Akihito had gathered, Kuroda was almost Asami's age. Their similarities ended there. Asami resembles a god's ultimate creation, sculptured to perfection while Kuroda's square face looked rough and sagged.
Akihito thought that if Kuroda replaced his dark, bushy eyebrows and trimmed moustache, he would look like any other middle age man in Japan. A typical yakuza, Kuroda donned a black shirt, paired with a white suit and matching white tie and shoes. Even his taste in clothing is inferior compared to Asami.
Mustering his courage, Akihito walked in the room steadily, all the while praying his hands wouldn't fail him. He knelt down next to the small table, bowing in the process. "My apologies, Kuroda sama."
The corners of his menacing eyes twitched impatiently, unsatisfied with Akihito's explanation. "The next time I ask for something, I expect to be served immediately or you can say goodbye to your fucking life!" He snarled, pushing Akihito away.
What an uncouth. "Yes, Kuroda sama."
"Kuroda, you really should give this boy a break," the other man said, light heartedly.
Unlike Kuroda, Sakaki was older and has held the position of the oyabun for nearly fifteen years after his old man passed away. His wrinkled face and slightly white hair indicated he was at least in his late fifties but his face remained dignified and charismatic.
"Break? He should be lucky that I didn't beat some obedience into him," Kuroda shouted, looking at a trembling Akihito. "I haven't seen you before."
"It – it's my first day Kuroda sama," Akihito said, still kneeling in front of the yakuza.
"No wonder you're so fucking slow," Kuroda smacked Akihito's face with his gloved hands. "Now pour us some wine."
Akihito scrambled to the bar counter. He went behind the bar, randomly picked a bottle. Thankfully, he had practice opening Asami's wine or he'd be beaten for his incompetence.
As he retrieved the corkscrew from the bar, he purposely let it fall so he had a chance to switch on his recorder in his pockets. Never mind the live footage; he could always snap some photographs when they leave the club.
Get the conversation taped and get out of here, he ordered himself.
"You useless boy, get the wine open or I'll put a damn bullet in your forehead," Kuroda shouted.
Akihito bowed nervously. "I – I'm sorry Kuroda sama. I'll open the bottle right away."
Slowly, he cut off the foil with a knife he found on the bar table and removed the foil cap, placing them aside. Positioning the corkscrew, he inserted in the cork, twisting it all the way in before dislodging, all the while acting disinterested with the two bosses' conversation.
"So, about the matter we discuss earlier?" Kuroda was the first to talk.
The head of Sakaki-gumi remained silent for a moment. Finally, his eyes narrowed on Kuroda. "What you're asking me of me is serious, Kuroda."
Akihito brought two glasses to the table, knelt down.
"Do you really want that bastard to control everything there is in Japan? If we continue to bow to him, we'll lose everything!"
Akihito took a glass, slanted it to the side, pouring the wine into the glass.
Sakaki lit a cigarette. "You think we can win against him? He's the crime kingpin; he literally has Japan under his thumb. We'll never get out of this if he finds out."
Kuroda smirked. "I have someone from the inside who is willing to do the honors of assassinating him. All he asked in return is to become the waka gashira of the clan."
Sakaki laughed, "You honestly think that person you mentioned can just go right in front of him and pull the trigger? Unless the person you mentioned is the blonde guard who's always with him, I don't see how he can do it."
Kuroda lost his patience. "Are you a coward? Why are you so afraid of that fucking bastard?"
Crime kingpin of Japan? Blonde guard? Are they talking about assassinating – Akihito's thoughts trailed off when Sakaki spoke again.
"You just took your post from your old man, Kuroda. You don't know how dangerous Asami Ryuichi is."
At the mention of Asami's name, Akihito's dropped the glass. The dark red liquid fell on the carpet, soiling the carpet.
"You fucking useless bastard." Kuroda grabbed Akihito by the collar, shoving at him roughly. The photographer fell back on the carpet with a low thud and before he could regain his balance, he found himself staring at a semi-automatic gun between his eyes.
The sight of the gun made Akihito trembled. "I'm sorry, Kuroda sama , please – I'm really sorry."
"You made enough mistakes, young boy," Kuroda snarled, releasing the safety catch.
God, is this the end? Akihito closed his eyes, bracing himself for the attack. He raised both his hands, crisscrossing them across his face as a protective gesture to protect himself. Oddly, at times like this, the only person that came into his mind was the crime lord at home. He longed to see him one last time, to run his finger across his chest and to be embraced in his strong arms.
The sound of the door open had everyone's eyes attention diverted.
"What did I miss, Kuroda sama?" a confused voice asked.
Akihito opened his eyes slowly, slanted his neck to the side and upwards to see the man who had just entered the room. The color of his face drained. Akihito didn't know his name but he knew that the bulky man worked for Asami in Club Sion. He had seen him guarding Asami's office a few times when he was dragged in involuntarily.
"You're – you're – " the man stuttered, pointing his finger at Akihito.
"What?" Kuroda asked, annoyed, gun still pointed at Akihito's forehead. "You're fucking late, Hayashi. Get your sorry ass in here and inform Sasaki about your plans."
"How did he get in?"
"What the hell are you blabbing about?" Kuroda asked, lowering his gun.
Hayashi tore his gaze from Akihito to Kuroda. "He's Asami Ryuichi's lover!"
Kuroda's eyes went aflame when he heard that statement. Grabbing the photographer's collar roughly, he pulled Akihito up and flung him across the room, landing his back on the edge of the coffee table. Akihito's hand automatically went to his back where the pain was spreading.
"Kuroda, what is the meaning of this?" Sakaki growled dangerously.
Kuroda glared at Akihito. "Believe me, I am about to find out the answers myself."
With a snap of his fingers, Kuroda's bodyguards dragged Akihito up from the table. Arms at either sides of the photographer, they forced him to stand straight.
Kuroda took a menacing step forward. "Did Asami Ryuichi send you here?"
Akihito shook his head, unable to speak from the pain on the small of his back.
Kuroda flew in rage. "Liar!" he bellowed. Signaling the guard to pass him the iron bar, Kuroda raised his hands and struck it hard on Akihito's stomach.
The first strike had Akihito coughed out some bile. The pain was so intense that he was positive his ribs cracked from the blow. His knees sagged and if the guards weren't holding him, he would have fallen.
"Ready to speak now?"
Akihito groaned aloud, not bothering to hide the pain. With much difficulty, he raised his head up, staring at the enraged leader. "Fuck you."
That earned him another blow. This time, the photographer coughed out blood.
"Hayashi, your duty as the second in command begins now. You do it!" Akihito heard Kuroda addressed the other guard.
The bar was passed to Hayashi. "Release him," the newly appointed waka gashira ordered.
Akihito slumped on the floor, groaning in pain. Crouching down, Hayashi fisted Akihito's hair, yanking him to a kneeling position.
"Takaba, you better give me the answers I want or I promise you, your pain will be tenfold," he gritted out.
Still panting from the pain, Akihito studied the guard's eyes; they were huge, widely spaced and looked absolutely menacing. He feared those eyes but he wasn't going to give the bastard pleasure by exposing his fear.
"Does Asami know what you're about to do? Because if he does, there's nowhere in the world you can hide. He'll hunt you down and tear you in pieces," Akihito smiled.
Hayashi released Akihito, giving him a punch on his face. "Let's see if you can still talk after I'm done with you," he sneered, swinging the iron bar up.
"Hold it," Kuroda called.
Both Hayashi and Akihito looked at the yakuza seated comfortably on the chair. The sinister smile on Kuroda's nicotine stained teeth was wide. "It doesn't matter if he's not talking. We're going to dispose him anyway."
"Kuroda, this isn't wise," Sakaki countered.
"But –" Kuroda continued, ignoring Sakaki, "before we chop him in pieces and throw him back to Asami's face, let's enjoy ourselves with him."
"Kuroda sama, you mean – "
The leader grinned at Hayashi. "He's Asami's whore right? He should be good enough in bed for that bastard to keep him for so long."
"You're out of your mind, Kuroda. I want no part in this," Sakaki stood up and strode out of the room with his guards.
"Go on, Hayashi," Kuroda urged.
Hayashi grinned; he always thought the boy was beautiful. "What about you, Kuroda sama?" he licked his lips.
"Unfortunately, I haven't tried my hands on a boy before, so I'll skip for now," Kuroda paused for a moment, eyes gleaming. "Hayashi, why don't you show us how it's done?"
Akihito's stomach churned at the statement. "No," he said, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, slowly backing away.
"Do you need the guards to hold him?" Kuroda asked, as if he was mocking Hayashi.
"No, I love to tame a kitten with claws." Hayashi's smile spread.
It was perhaps the silliest decision Akihito had ever made but he was desperate and couldn't pause to think if the plan is workable. Summoning his strength, he pushed his way through, running towards the door.
The former guard proved to be trained; he caught Akihito easily, slamming his body on the floor. Akihito hit the floor hard, and though it was carpeted, he felt the sharp pain on the back of his head.
Hayashi pulled him up, dragging him to the center of the room and pushed him to the coffee table. Akihito fought blindly but viciously, trying to hit his attacker. The blow to his ribs stole his breath and this time, Akihito screamed from the pain.
Already weakened, the photographer did not protest when he felt his hands being pushed above his head.
"Too bad, eh, Takaba?" Hayashi panted slightly. "I'm going to fuck you till you bleed, then I'm going to kill you and dumped your body in Tokyo Bay."
Akihito did not respond, suddenly too tired to fight. He felt his own vest and shirt tore, heard the zipper to his pants undone. Then, Hayashi was all over him; his greedy hands roamed Akihito's battered body, stopping at his nipples to pinch them. Unable to resist himself, Hayashi lowered his head to Akihito's pink nipples and bit hard.
The pain from having his nipples bitten seem low compared to his injured ribs. Akihito turned his head sideways when Hayashi slid his hands into his dress pants, fondling his organ roughly. He was about to close his eyes when he caught the sight of Kuroda sitting leisurely on the couch with a hand on his freed cock.
That fucking bastard, he's masturbating! Akihito thought, enraged. Fuck, he'd take the beating and the pain; not the humiliation, and certainly not the nightmare.
"Your cock is still limp, don't worry it'll get up soon," Hayashi smiled.
His smile shattered when Akihito brought his knee up in between Hayashi's legs. The hands on Akihito loosened and the photographer took the opportunity to pump his fist into Hayashi's nose. Quick as a snake, before Kuroda's guards could come to their waka gashira's rescue, he reached for the gun behind Hayashi's waist.
"Who would get aroused with a cock like yours?" Akihito sneered, slowly backing to the end of the room. "Too bad, Asami's cock is far more superior to yours, bastard," Akihito cracked a smile as he pointed the gun at its owner.
"You whore," Hayashi covered his bleeding nose.
Akihito ignored the comment. Still pointing the gun at the men in front of him, he said, "Masturbating while watching me being raped? You are a sick bastard, Kuroda."
Kuroda's hands left his cock. "I was right, you're good. I'm going to enjoy fucking that tight ass hole of yours," he said, smiling. He turned his head slightly to the guards, "Hold him."
Akihito fired the first shot randomly, not caring where it went.
It was only when Akihito heard Hayashi fell to the ground that he realized the bullet grazed past the guard's shoulder.
"You can't even fire a gun properly and you expect to get out of here alive?" Kuroda laughed.
Akihito hated the fact that Kuroda was right. The way out was located opposite him, he couldn't fire a gun, let alone escaping the place alive. There were about six men in total, all surrounding him like a pack of wolves that had cornered they prey. There wasn't really other way.
He raised the gun to his temple. "Then, I'll save you the trouble of killing me."
He was about to pull the trigger when he heard more footsteps approaching the room.
God, how many more fucking men before it's over? Akihito tightened his grip on the gun, ready to pull the trigger.
The door crashed open and all hell broke loose. Akihito wasn't sure what happened next; all he heard was gunshots echoing through the small room. A few men were shot on their hands and legs but Akihito was dazed and couldn't see which team was winning. When he could finally focused, he noticed there were more armed men in the room, each had their guns pointed at Kuroda's men.
"Takaba sama!" a familiar voice called urgently.
The photographer looked straight, dazed at the sight of his bodyguard standing in front of him with both hands in the air. Was he imagining things? Was that really Toru?
And then the man entered. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Akihito's eyes were fixated on the man's golden orbs. He recognized the narrow, aesthetic face and the sculptured mouth that could do so many wonderful things to him.
"Akihito, put down the gun," the deep voice commanded.
Akihito ignored the command and was deciding if his eyes were playing tricks on him when he felt a warm hand on his arm. He tilted his head a little and there he is – Asami Ryuichi in flesh. Slowly, he lowered his hands, releasing his grip of the gun and slumped into Asami's arms. He fought back tears as held on tight to the yakuza, breathing in his lightly tobacco scented coat.
"Takaba sama, your coat," Toru whispered, draping the garment around Akihito's naked torso. Asami placed a protective arm around his lover, pulling the boy closer to him.
"You came," Akihito breathed out the word, relieved.
"Of course, do you think I'd allow you to escape so easily?"
"Hayashi! What are you doing here?" a voice Akihito recognized as Kirishima asked. As he ordered the guards to lower his gun at Hayashi, Akihito pulled away from Asami. "NO!"
"Takaba sama?" Kirishima questioned, puzzled.
Pointing his finger to Hayashi, he spat, "That bastard betrayed you. He's working with Kuroda and they were planning to assassinate Asami."
"No! He's lying!" Hayashi protested, wiping his bloodied nose.
Akihito curled his fist. "You fucking rapist, you don't even have the guts to admit what you've done?"
The word 'rapist' hit Asami hard and in an instant, he was by Akihito's side. Cupping Akihito's chin, he forced the photographer to meet his gaze. "Did he put his hands on you?" his voice was ice.
Akihito looked away, humiliated. "No, not really. He roughed me up a bit and the most he did was slip his perverted hands into my pants while he," pointing at Kuroda whose limp cock is still hanging out of his pants. "masturbates." said Akihito.
Slipping his hands into his pockets, Akihito pulled out the mini recorder, pressing the stop button before passing it to Asami. "Here, the evidence."
Color drained from Hayashi's face when he saw the recorder.
The recorder disappeared into the yakuza's coat. "Toru, take Akihito to Kanzaki," Asami ordered.
"Takaba sama," Toru said gently, placing an arm around his master back to support him. Akihito yelped at the touch.
" I – I can't walk." Akihito cracked out. "I can't feel my knees."
It was then Asami realized his lover was seriously hurt. There was blood in his eyes when he noticed Akihito's swollen ribs, an indication that they were either fractured or broken. Curling his fist in anger, he spoke in a tight controlled voice, "Suoh, keep an eye on them. I want them tied up and gagged by the time I return."
He scooped the photographer in his arms and strode out of the club which was by now, surrounded by his own men. Laying him on the backseat of the car gently, Asami turned to leave. Akihito's arm shot out, grabbing the lapel of Asami's coat.
"Wait – How – how did you know where I was?" Realization hit him fast. "Ishida," he gasped. "What did you do to Ishida?"
Asami remained indifferent. Straightening himself, he fixed his coat. "You don't have to worry about that–"
"It is my concern!" his voice cracked. Reaching his hands out, he clutched at Asami's coat, forcing the yakuza to bend down. He whispered, low enough only for the yakuza to hear, "Please, don't kill him."
The golden orbs narrowed. "Give me a good reason."
"I was the cause of the blackmail. If I didn't interfere, if I didn't rob him; he wouldn't have resorted to this," he looked up at his lover, almost teary. "If anything happens to him, I'll carry this guilt for the rest of my life, Asami."
The yakuza made no promises as he pried his lover's hand open from his coat, stepping away to allow Toru to close the door.
"Toru, take him to NTT Central Hospital."
Toru bowed and disappeared into the limousine.
By the time Asami returned the Kuroda's office, the disgraced yakuza and his men had been tied up and hauled together in a circle. In no hurry to execute the men, he took a seat on a cushion, pulling out the recorder Akihito had given him earlier. The voices rang out in the stillness of the room, echoed against the bare, uncarpeted walls. He heard sharp smacks, the safety catch of the gun released and Hayashi's greedy, sloppy noises as he feasted on Akihito.
Akihito's rather witty response on his 'superior cock' had Asami's lips curved into a rare smile. He had to admire his lover's spunk; he held on despite being greatly outnumbered by Kuroda's men. Deciding that he has heard enough, he switched off the recorder, passing it to Kirishima.
Slowly, like a beast in no hurry to pounce on its prey, he stood up, removing his coat. Turning to the group, he reached his hands into his pocket, pulling out his gun. "Which one of you used the iron bar on Akihito?"
When no one answered, Asami open fire at one of the guards.
"It's – him!" the other guard shouted, pointing to Kuroda.
At the nod of his head, Suoh hauled Kuroda up from the floor. Slipping his two hands under Kuroda's arm, Suoh held him steady as Kirishima passed the iron bar to Asami, taking Asami's gun in return.
The sight of iron bar covered with droplets of blood – Akihito's blood – caused Asami to go in apoplectic rage.
"Asami, you wouldn't dare – My men will never forgive you."
Asami looked at the yakuza, disgusted at the sight of his cock still hanging outside his pants. "Your men have turned their backs against you, Kuroda."
The crime lord raised his hand with the iron bar. Unlike Kuroda, Asami is well-trained in combat skills and is far stronger. The first blow to Kuroda's ribs had the man screaming.
"Pathetic, Akihito didn't even scream," Asami sneered as he delivered another blow to Kuroda's stomach. This time, he coughed out red, crimson liquid, splattering it on the iron bar.
"Ah, I was wondering how many more blows before I can see blood," Asami said easily and struck the iron bar at Kuroda again.
"St—stop, just kill me," Kuroda gritted the words out.
Asami delivered another blow. "You will die, Kuroda but not before you know pain. Getting Sakaki to assist you to bring me down is already a mistake; to touch and defile my property? You've just won your ticket to hell."
The fifth blow had the former yakuza unconscious. "Wake him up," he ordered Suoh.
Releasing the man, Suoh instructed a young guard to pass him a bucket of cold water which he poured it on Kuroda.
That got Kuroda awake almost instantly. Spurting out cold water, he glanced around his surrounding in dazed. When he finally made sense of it, his eyes showed fear.
Still smiling, Asami stepped on Kuroda's limp cock as he pointed the gun in between his eyes. Kuroda screamed, whether from the fear of seeing the gun or from the pain of having his dick crushed; Asami couldn't be bothered which. All he cared was to hear Kuroda's shouts of agony.
Kuroda raised his hands, trying to push the gun away but Asami gave him no chance to soil his white shirt. The yakuza fired two consecutive shots, watching the former leader of the Kuroda-gumi fall back on the floor, as dark crimson liquid began to pool around his head.
Asami stood up; nodding at Suoh and a total of four gun shots could be heard.
Asami glanced at Hayashi, who cowered at the corner, away from the group. "Don't worry; you'll have your turn later."
"Take him to the warehouse with Ishida and gather as many men as possible to the warehouse," he ordered Suoh before walking out of the room.
"Get up," Suoh ordered, dragging Hayashi up. "Prepare yourself, you traitor. The boss has lined up a very interesting itinerary for you."
Hayashi was already shivering when Suoh led him out of the room.
Xx Business as Usual xX
Toru listened to Kanzaki's report in silence, trying to absorb Akihito's condition so that he could report to his boss later.
"Takaba sama's two left ribs are fractured. They are thankfully, not broken but nevertheless the recovery is painful. During the process, he will have to take deep breaths or cough out every hour. Depending on Takaba sama's pain tolerance, the exercise can be excruciatingly painful but it is absolutely necessary."
Toru glanced at his master lying on the bed in hospital robes.
The doctor continued, "I won't be using compression wraps; it'd increase his chances of getting pneumonia. I'll prescribe some painkillers for Takaba sama instead."
"When will he be completely recovered?"
The doctor looked at the X-ray scans again. "Judging from the cracks, I'd say around six weeks – and Toru san?" the doctor looked slightly embarrassed.
"Kanzaki sensei?"
"Please advise Asami sama that physical activities have to be kept to a minimum during Takaba sama's recovery."
Toru didn't have to ask the doctor what sort of physical activities he was referring to. He mumbled his thanks to the sensei and signaled Ando to bring the car around. While Akihito changed, Toru whipped out his phone and called his boss.
Xx Business as Usual xX
The warehouse where Ishida and Hayashi were located was full with spectators. By Japan's top crime lord's orders, all available guards employed under Asami Ryuichi were to report to the warehouse at the wee hours of the morning.
Since the chief, Suoh wasn't around to offer any explanations; many guards were confused as to why their badly beaten colleague was tied up on a chair next to an unidentified individual. Rumors were already flying around about the currently unconscious guard since a few guards were with Asami during the annihilation of the Kuroda clan.
When Suoh walked in with Toru, they took their positions, straightening their bodies, awaiting the chief's explanations.
"Asami sama will be arriving shortly," he said, addressing the guards in black suits. "The boss is in an extremely foul mood and if you don't want to end up like them – " he pointed his finger at Ishida and Hayashi, " – I suggest you zip your mouths."
"Toru, how's the young boss?"
"Two fractured left ribs and minor injuries on his face," Toru replied.
Suoh took his position behind Hayashi. "This isn't good. Where's the boss?"
Toru moved next to Suoh. "Asami sama went to the hospital to take Takaba sama back to the penthouse. Kirishima san and Ando are with them."
As soon as Toru has completed the sentence, they heard the distinctive sound of the limousine pulled into the compound of the warehouse. As door to the limousine slammed shut, the occupants in the room tensed, eyes fixated at the metal doors, waiting for the crime lord to enter.
Ando pushed the sliding door apart, revealing the perfectly dressed crime lord and the bespectacled secretary.
Asami scanned around, looking at his men before fixing his attention at his two prisoners. His men remained silent but they fidgeted and exchanged nervous glances with one another. Perfect; it's just what he wanted. After tonight's show, they would have second thoughts about betraying him. He walked to the single chair in front of his prisoners, unbuttoned his coat and sat on it.
"Suoh, it's time to wake up our guests," he drawled, accepting a cigar from Kirishima.
Suoh retrieved two packets of smelling salts from his pocket. Passing one to Toru, he nodded at the younger guard as both of them held the torn packets near unconscious men's nose simultaneously. The strong odor woke them up almost instantly.
"A – sami Ryuichi," Ishida stammered, his eyes widening in shock at the cold rage of the yakuza's eyes.
"I'm flattered you know me," Asami replied, taking a puff of his cigar. "As much as I wanted to pay attention to you, I'll have to deal with some internal matters first."
Ishida trembled at the statement.
Passing the cigar to Kirishima, Asami stood up. He walked around Hayashi, circling him slowly. Without warning, he shot his fist out at the guard. "You plan to assassinate me and become the second in command for the Kurodas?"
Asami yanked Hayashi's hair, arching his neck painfully behind. "Do you really think you can succeed?"
Hayashi smiled. "I would have, if that fuck toy of yours didn't appear."
Unaffected by the remark, Asami's lips curved a smile, throwing the guard off balance. "That's where you're wrong. Your head will be on my dinner platter before you can even aim that gun at my face."
Releasing Hayashi, he signaled Suoh to use the baseball bat. With the bar in his hands, the bulky guard stepped forward, positioned himself in front of the guard and waited for Asami to give the green light.
The loud swooshing sound of the bat echoed the warehouse when Suoh hit Hayashi's left knee. The bone to his kneecap crushed, earning a loud scream from the guard. Asami thought he'd never heard a lovelier music.
"Again," he ordered.
Suoh complied. The scream was louder and more horrific this time.
"Pl – please, no!" Hayashi cried.
Asami took a step closer. "Crying so fast? Where's the spunk you displayed just now?" he sneered.
Beside him, Ishida trembled at the sight of Hayashi being tortured. He heard about Asami Ryuchi's ruthless way but to see it with his own eyes had his stomach turned inside out. He closed his eyes, unwilling to be the witness of such gory torture. Oh God, will I die like that too? The thought of it almost made him wet his pants.
"Ishida, you always wanted to gather information about me. I'm letting you see this from an exclusive seat; be grateful."
When Ishida didn't reply, Asami ordered Toru. "Position Ishida's chair in front of Hayashi and make him open his eyes. If he refused, gouge them out."
The yakuza smiled, satisfied when Ishida's eyes shot open at his order. He could almost smell the fear in Ishida and it pleased him immensely.
He turned back to the sobbing Hayashi. "Release him."
Suoh cut the ropes before pushing the guard on the floor. Hayashi screamed when his shattered kneecap touched the concrete ground. Unable to support himself, his heavy body fell face down on the floor.
"Secure his hands and bring me the pliers."
"No!" Hayashi sobbed, already had ideas about his next punishment.
Asami crouched down, fisted his gloved hands into Hayashi's hair and yanked it up. "I bet Akihito said the same thing when you place your filthy hands on him," he snarled, slamming Hayashi's head on the ground.
With Toru and Suoh securing Hayashi's hands, Asami positioned the pliers on the guard's thumb, clipping the nails securely before pulling it out by force.
The guard screamed and Ishida wet his pants.
"The de-nailing has been a very popular torture method back in the medieval times," the yakuza said lightly, looking at the bloodied nail.
"Please, Asami sama, please forgive me." Hayashi sobbed.
"Where's the pride that you had just now?" Asami taunted before smiling menacingly, "This is only the first nail. You've nine more to go."
Xx Business as Usual xX
Kirishima fought back a shudder when he heard Hayashi's horrifying screams. He had expected that Hayashi would be subjected to torture but he did not foresee this. His eyes darted at Ishida who was forced to witness the cruel methods; it's no wonder the boy pissed his pants.
The bespectacled secretary remembered the look on yakuza's face when they were in the hospital. Asami was mostly calm when he listened to Toru's report on Akihito's condition but his eyes turned cold with fury when he saw the photographer in the waiting room, bruised and bloodied.
Akihito held on and was even uttering lame jokes with Asami. His defense broke when Asami carried him into the limousine; the boy did something that almost broke Kirishima's heart. He cried, silently.
Hayashi's screams brought the bespectacled secretary back to the present moment. The sight before him had turned chilling, Hayashi's six bloodied nails were on the floor and Asami was on his way to remove the seventh.
The former guard's vocabulary has been limited to two words: Please and Stop. From the way Kirishima sees it, his boss was too riled to stop what he was doing. He admired Toru's capabilities in remaining impassive as even Suoh looked a little green.
Deciding that it was enough, Kirishima thought he should step in and put a stop to everyone's misery. With Asami's trench coat hung neatly in his arms, he took a daring, forwarding step to his master.
Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Asami sama."
Asami glanced backwards, his piercing eyes at Kirishima.
Kirishima looked away from the piercing gaze. "I predict Takaba sama will be awake soon from the sedative. The guard with Takaba sama is new and might not be able to handle him if he wakes up."
Asami stood up, surprising the secretary. Pulling out his gun, he instructed Suoh to roll Hayashi to his back.
Aiming Hayashi's crotch, the yakuza said, "Your biggest mistake was putting your perverted hands on Akihito."
The gun shot had everyone in the warehouse jumped. Ishida sobbed openly, thinking of a similar punishment that he would soon face.
Asami wasted no time. Raising his gun again, he aimed at Hayashi's heart. Drowned in his own blood, Hayashi raised his hand, uttering two last words, "Kill me."
Complying gladly with the request, Asami fired a fatal shot at Hayashi's heart.
The yakuza turned to the sobbing photographer. His head automatically shook, "No," he pleaded.
"I'm sor—ry," he hiccupped, forcing the words out. "I won't do it again, I promise. I'll stay away from Takaba, please – " he halted when Asami fired a warning shot next to Ishida, shutting him up effectively.
"Kanda, which finger of this bastard's did you break just now?"
Kanda stepped forward from the crowd of stunned guards. "His left thumb and forefinger, Asami sama."
"No, please," Ishida sobbed harder.
"What do you think, Ishida-kun? Did you get the information you wanted from me?" Asami said as he cleaned his gun.
Ishida shook his head. "I swear I won't say anything. Please, spare me."
Asami looked at Ishida tear stained face in disgust and thought of Akihito. The way his lover had pleaded for this garbage's life infuriated him. He'd acquiesce to Akihito's wishes, all right, but not before injecting some fear in him, which was why he made Ishida watched the torture process.
The yakuza's gaze darkened, "If you ever thought of lining your own pockets using Akihito, you better think again, Ishida kun because the next time I catch you, you'll face a death worse than him," Asami growled, pointing at the dead guard.
"I—promise, Asami san. I'll disappear from Tokyo. I won't say anything."
"I shall hold on to your word. One word from Akihito or the press, I'll send the men to hunt you down."
Turning around, he ordered Ando, "Slice both his forefingers off and release him at the back alley. Make sure he won't be able to hold the camera again."
Eyes widened in fear, Ishida screamed, "No – no, Asami san!" but his calls went unanswered.
Xx Business as Usual xX
The dawn broke when Asami entered the penthouse and found Akihito sitting on the carpet, staring into the space. Dismissing the new guard, Asami took his seat on the couch next to his lover. "Why aren't you in bed?"
Akihito turned, looking up at the yakuza. "What happened to Ishida?" he whispered.
"Does your wound still hurt?"
"Did you kill him?" Akihito asked, almost too afraid to hear the truth.
Asami pulled his tie free. "He'll live."
The photographer let out a relieved sigh. Smiling genuinely, he moved in between Asami's legs and laid his head on Asami's knee. "Thank you."
Like a child, Asami placed his palm on Akihito's hair and gently stroke the shampooed hair. They enjoyed a quiet moment of intimacy, savoring each other's warmth.
It was Akihito who broke the contact. Wincing, he gingerly pushed himself up to sit on the yakuza's lap. When the infamous eyebrow shot up, Akihito looked away, embarrassed. "The floor is too hard and your lap is softer than the cushion. You got a problem with that?"
Asami chuckled. "No, it's rather refreshing that you're sitting on my lap willingly for once."
Akihito blushed. "If you're complaining, I'll get up," he said, trying to move away but the yakuza held him firmly on his lap.
"Stay," the deep voice commanded.
His lover complied shyly. They stayed in the position for a while before Akihito leaned forward near Asami's ear, whispering seductively, "Let's go to bed."
Surprised with the invitation, Asami could only comply with his lover's request. He scooped Akihito up, carrying him to the bedroom.
"Akihito?" Asami called as he laid the boy on the bed.
"Huh?" he responded, aroused.
"You heard what the doctor say, didn't you? No strenuous exercise for six weeks."
The boy's jaw dropped. "WHAT?" he almost shouted and his hand immediately went to his ribs. "But – but – "
Asami lifted Akihito's chin, kissing him hard. "Don't be mistaken, Akihito. Once you're well enough, you won't be getting any sleep. Rest up while you can."
Akihito grinned. "That's a promise, Asami Ryuichi."
Translations:
Kuroda-gumi – Gumi refers to a clan.
Waka gashira – second in command in a yakuza family.
A/N: I had reservations about writing the rape scene because the idea is overly used but I can't help myself! (Another fan girl fantasy of mine) I hope you didn't find the chapter a little too cliché.
I'm going to be busy the next few weeks, but I will try to update as fast as I can. Thank you for all your lovely favorites, follows, reviews, suggestions and pms! I feel so loved! (dabs eyes with tissue)
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