SUMMARY
Tanjiro thought for a moment and hesitated before speaking. "Shouldn't you get your dad on this? He might have the connections to—"
"Leave the old man the fuck outta this," Asta snapped, his tone harsher than intended. The sudden outburst didn't faze Tanjiro, his eyes just narrowed in concern. Out of all of them Asta had the shortest temper.
Asta sat in the common room, his heart pounding in his chest, feeling as if the walls were closing in on him. Of all the things that could go wrong in his life. Of all fucking things, this was the last thing he ever expected. His phone felt like a ticking time bomb in his hand, and he wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Hell, a meteor suddenly spawning in the sky and crashing on campus, obliterating them all to death would be more welcome than the nightmare he was living right now. And as if things couldn't get any worse, Shinra burst into the room, phone in hand, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "Tell me I'm not seeing what I'm seeing right now!" he shouted, staring at Asta, who looked like he was on the verge of tears.
Asta had always thought that the worst thing that could happen in college would be failing a class, getting into a fight that would kill him, or maybe even getting dumped. But getting leaked? No, that wasn't even on his radar because it shouldn't have been possible. Yet here he was, living that exact nightmare.
Boruto and Yuji strode into the dorm next, both looking curious. "Hey, why is Asta trending on the campus social?" Boruto asked quite casually, completely unaware of the storm he was walking into.
"Because there's a vid of Asta stroking his dick flying around," he said Shinra said without missing a beat as he patted Asta's back in a futile attempt to comfort him. Yuji and Boruto who were not expecting that kind of information blanched and froze with their jaws hanging low.
"Where?!" Izuku asked way too enthusiastically, as he whipped out his phone to start searching, completely oblivious to the emotional turmoil Asta was in. At this, the guys sent him disproving looks and Izuku sheepishly tucked his phone away under their stern gazes.
"Didn't know you were freaky, Izuku."
"I'm not freaky!" Izuku groaned in protest. His face flushing deep red as he sent a small side glare at Tanjiro. "I was just curious, okay. I'm sorry."
Meanwhile, Asta slumped lower into the couch, muttering how humiliating this whole situation was. Boruto, who suddenly had an epiphany, cocked his head in confusion. "Hold on, this is new? Aren't you allergic to shame?"
"I mean if my meat was exposed for everyone on campus to gawk at, I don't think I'd be too confident?" Shinra stated with sarcasm dripping in his tone. Yuji just shrugged.
"Depends. Is it, you know, small? If it's big, I mean, Asta, you shouldn't be embarrassed."
In response, Shinra pulled up the video on his phone, showing it to the others. Their jaws dropped, not in shock but in sheer awe.
"Look at the size of that monster!" Yuji blurted out, wide-eyed.
"No wonder he bagged Noelle." Izuku added, shaking his head in disbelief.
Asta, now more uncomfortable than ever, mumbled, "Now no one's going to look at me the same way again."
Boruto, trying his best to comfort him, placed a hand on Asta's shoulder. "I get it, man. It's like you're carrying the weight of the world in your pants—uh, I mean, on your shoulders."
Asta just sighed, shaking his head, and stood up. "I need a drink," he muttered, heading towards the kitchen and leaving his friends to their increasingly ridiculous discussion.
Once Asta was out of earshot, Shinra turned serious. "We need to find out who leaked the damn video and teach them a lesson."
Boruto was already on it, his fingers flying across his phone's screen as he navigated the Campus Social app. "I'm tracing the original link right now."
The boys crowded around Boruto as he scrolled. They watched in anticipation as he tracked the link, but his expression soured when he hit a dead end. "Damn it," Boruto cursed. "The original post got deleted, and the account's gone."
Frustration simmered in the room, but the boys weren't ready to give up. Izuku muttered aloud as he strategized. "Asta must have been, sexting Noelle and the person who leaked it must be close enough to either Asta or Noelle to have had access to their phones."
Asta returned from the kitchen, a water bottle in hand. He considered Izuku's words and then nodded. "The only two people besides Noelle who've ever used my phone are Yami and Iris."
Shinra immediately shook his head. "No, I'm scratching Iris off the suspect list. She'd never do something like this."
The group agreed in unison. "Yeah, Iris is way too innocent, honestly, she's so pure that the sight of a dick would probably traumatize her." Asta began to laugh.
Shinra's face turned a little pink, a nervous laugh escaping him as he recalled how untraumatized Iris had been by his.
"What about Yami..." Yuji then hesitantly brought up, but before they could speculate further, Asta's phone rang. The name "Yami" flashed across the screen, and with a resigned sigh, Asta answered.
On the other end, Yami's booming laughter echoed through the speaker. Everyone in the room facepalmed, immediately ruling him out as the culprit. Clearly, Yami was just having a good laugh at Asta's expense.
Noelle Silva's day had been an absolute rollercoaster of chaos. Between classes that left her brain fried, the endless churn of campus gossip, and dodging phone calls from concerned family members, she was on the verge of a breakdown. The last thing she expected when she trudged back to her dorm was to find six guys waiting at her doorstep, looking like they were about to drop a bomb on her.
She blinked, taking in the sight—Asta, her boyfriend, looking sheepish, with his crew flanking him, all of them far too serious for her liking. Asta managed a small, awkward smile. "Hey, babe. Uh… can we come in? We've got a lot to talk about."
Noelle let out a breath, too tired to question it. She shrugged, stepping aside as they shuffled in. Boruto, all 6'3 of him, had to duck under the doorframe, making painfully awkward eye contact with her as he muttered, "Hi," before squeezing past. The whole scene was weirdly domestic considering how out of place they all looked in her small, cozy living room.
Once they'd all found a spot, Asta leaned closer, his voice soft but filled with concern. "How've you been?"
Noelle let out a long, exhausted sigh, her head falling to rest on his shoulder. "Honestly? I just want to sleep and pretend today didn't happen. I'm so tired of all the questions—my friends, and now even my family."
Asta's eyebrows shot up. "Your family? They got involved?"
Noelle nodded, a heavy weight settling in her chest. "Yeah… the leaker sent the video to certain people in my family. Including… my dad."
Asta visibly cringed at the thought. "Shit. Not your old man."
Noelle couldn't help but giggle, though it came out weak and strained. "And to top it off, Nozel called to check in on me. Apparently, he's got it in his head that you tore me apart with your dick."
The room fell into a dead silence before Boruto, unable to hold it in any longer, snorted loudly. He quickly ducked his head, shoulders shaking as the rest of the group tried, and failed, to suppress their own grins and laughs. Asta's face was red, his expression screaming I've had enough of this shit.
"Okay, okay," Shinra cleared his throat, trying to bring the conversation back on track. "Noelle, we've gotta figure out who had access to your phone. Has anyone used it recently?"
Noelle didn't even hesitate. "The only person I've ever lent it to is Mimosa."
Everyone froze, eyes widening in shock. None of them could picture sweet, innocent Mimosa doing something so shady.
"Let's not jump to conclusions," Asta said quickly, trying to keep things calm. "Noelle, what's the longest time Mimosa's had your phone?"
Noelle frowned, thinking it over. "Probably last week. We went on that double date—me, you, Mimosa, and Yuno. Mimosa's annoying brother and his boyfriend tagged along for a bit. Mimosa borrowed my phone since hers died. But her brother's boyfriend was with her the whole time…"
There was a scraping sound as Izuku leaned forward in his chair, with an intense expression. "Wait, who's her brother's boyfriend?"
Noelle paused, her eyes narrowing as she tried to recall. "He works at Mimosa's family company. He's… one of the board members, actually."
Yuji, clearly irritated, blurted out, "Why the fuck would some unc on a board want to leak a college guy's dick pics?"
Noelle shook her head, though a creeping suspicion was dawning on her. "I doubt he'd care about something like that… unless—" she stopped, her heart skipping a beat. "Unless the Vermillion family is trying to sabotage Asta!"
The room exploded with questions and confusion, everyone talking at once. Asta, meanwhile, sat there, his face in his hands, looking like he was about to give up on life altogether.
"Asta..." Tanjiro's expression contorted with concern.
"It's complicated," Asta muttered. "My father is the Prime Minister of Greece, which makes me somewhat important by association. But because I'm half-Japanese and illegitimate, I'm not exactly welcomed with open arms—neither in Greece nor within Japan's power structures."
The atmosphere grew tense as Asta began to explain the complex web of politics and power he was entangled in. Despite his modest upbringing and generally carefree attitude, Asta was a figure of significant interest—and resentment—among certain circles. His father, a powerful leader in Greece, had hoped Asta would one day step into a significant political role, one that could bridge ties between Japan and Greece. However, Asta's mixed heritage made him an outsider in both nations. In Greece, he was seen as too Japanese, and in Japan, too Greek. This racial and cultural prejudice was further complicated by the fact that he was born out of wedlock, a detail that conservative factions in both countries used to question his legitimacy.
The Vermillion and Silva families, however, had their own reasons for wanting to see Asta fail. As two of the most influential business families in Japan, they had deep-rooted connections to the political elite. Their wealth and power came from generations of carefully curated business practices, and they were staunch bloodline purists. For them, bloodlines and heritage were paramount; they saw Asta's mixed heritage as a threat not just because it was unconventional, but because they believed it symbolized a potential shift in the power dynamics they had worked so hard to maintain.
Asta's potential rise in the political arena, particularly in a role that could oversee business regulations, was seen as a direct threat to their interests. If Asta, with his progressive ideas and international perspective, were to gain influence, he could push for reforms that might disrupt the status quo. The Vermillion and Silva families feared that Asta's policies could weaken their control over Japan's economic landscape, opening the door to foreign competition and diminishing their monopolies.
Noelle's realization that her family might be involved in leaking the video hit her hard. She had always known that her family was powerful, but she never imagined they would resort to such underhanded tactics. The idea that the leak was a deliberate attempt to discredit Asta and ruin his reputation made her feel sick.
"Fuck!" Asta cursed as he shot up from the couch, beginning to pace around the living room like a caged animal. His mind raced with the implications of Noelle's revelation, and each thought made his blood boil hotter. "I knew they were pieces of shit, but I had no idea they were downright conniving bastards too!"
His friends watched him in silence, the weight of the situation hanging over them like a dark cloud. "Asta, calm the fuck down. This isn't going anywhere if we just stay here throwing fits." Yuji said, joining Asta on his feet.
Shinra nodded in agreement with a pensive expression. "Yeah, we should be looking for this leaker before the wrong people get their hands on it. We need to stay focused."
Tanjiro thought for a moment and hesitated before speaking. "Shouldn't you get your dad on this? He might have the connections to—"
"Leave the old man the fuck outta this," Asta snapped, his tone harsher than intended. The sudden outburst didn't faze Tanjiro, his eyes just narrowed in concern. Out of all of them Asta had the shortest temper.
(Author's Note: I DID NOT MEAN TO DO THAT!)
This wasn't the first time Asta had reacted this way, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But Tanjiro knew better than to push further, recognizing the storm brewing inside his friend.
Boruto, who had been quiet the whole time, broke the tense silence. "I've taken care of the leaks on the school's social media. No one else from campus will see that video unless they're really digging for it." He paused, looking up from his phone to meet everyone's eyes. "Now, what we have left to take care of, is family drama."
Asta stopped pacing and let out a heavy sigh, a mix of relief and frustration. The video might be contained, but the underlying problem—the sabotage from Noelle's family—was far from resolved.
"I'll call Nozel," Noelle suggested, pulling out her phone. There was a certain confidence in her voice, like she was ready to take charge of the situation.
Asta felt a weight lift off his shoulders at her words. "Please," he said, his voice softer now. "He's the only chill person in your family."
Noelle gave him a small, reassuring smile as she dialed Nozel's number. While Asta's anxiety was still palpable, knowing that Nozel was on their side gave him a sliver of hope. Nozel, despite being fiercely protective of his baby sister, was a pragmatist. He might not like Asta all that much, but he was fair, he would surely despise the underhanded tactics of their other family members as much as Asta did.
Yuji stood up, his movements purposeful as he looked around at the group. "We'll leave it to you, Noelle," he said in a light tone. "Let's know what he says, aight?"
Noelle nodded, her expression serious. "I will," she promised, her fingers gripping her phone tightly as she prepared to speak with Nozel.
Yuji then signaled for everyone to follow him out of the room. Asta hesitated, a deep reluctance visible in his eyes, but he eventually fell in line with the others, letting out a heavy breath as he did.
Once they were outside, the tension in Asta's body still hadn't dissipated. He was jittery, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, each one more volatile than the last. Sensing this, Yuji placed a hand on Asta's head, grounding him. "You need to chill, man, anything you do out of frustration could be used against you later. Let's keep a cool head and figure this shit out smartly."
Asta just stayed quiet. He knew Yuji was right, but the rage bubbling inside him was hard to suppress. Still, he clenched his fists and forced himself to calm down, nodding reluctantly. "Alright," he muttered, his voice strained with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.
There was a brief moment of silence before Asta turned to Tanjiro, his expression softening with regret. "Hey man... I'm sorry for snapping at you back there," he apologized, the red head had a neutral expression on his face and didn't seem offended by Asta one bit but either way he didn't deserve to be snapped at, he was relly only trying to help.
Tanjiro shook his head with a small, understanding smile. "It's alright, Asta. I get it," he shrugged, talking casually. "If I were in your shoes, I'd probably react the same way. But you really should stay calm. We'll figure a way out of this together, okay?" He bumped his fist on Asta's shoulder making the shorter guy crack a smile.
Yuji broke the lingering silence, glancing around at the group. "Anyone got plans today?" he asked, his tone casual but with an underlying hint of determination.
Shinra scoffed, crossing his arms. "It's a fucking Saturday, of course not."
Yuji nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Right, so that means we can all be available."
Asta looked at his friends, feeling a swell of gratitude. "Thanks, guys," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and then he strectched his neck. "So who are we fucking up first?"
"Bro chill." Boruto laughed along with the others as they walked down campus.
Asta had always been different. From the moment he was found as a baby, wrapped in a comforter with his name boldly crested on it—ASTA—he was set apart. The name itself was unusual, later identified by the village priest as Greek, a rarity in their small, remote Japanese community. Even as a child, his differences were quite obvious; while other children at the orphanage had black or brown hair, his was a striking ash blonde, olive skin, and sharp nose. This alone made him a target, but it was the combination of his appearance and the mystery of his origins that fueled the village's disdain.
Growing up in the orphanage, Asta quickly learned that life was not going to be kind to him. The local children, emboldened by the adults' whispered prejudices, would mock and bully the orphans, saving their harshest words for him. They called him names, taunted him about his unknown father, and questioned the virtue of his dead mother. The cruelty was relentless.
But Asta wasn't the type to break under pressure. He refused to be a victim. As soon as he was able, he began training, building up his muscles and honing his fighting skills. By the time he was strong enough, he became a protector, not just for himself, but for the other orphans as well. When the village kids came to cause trouble, Asta would step in, fists ready, and drive them off. He relished turning the tables on his tormentors, throwing their slurs back at them with a victorious grin.
"Look at what a dirty Dago can do to you!" he would shout, his voice ringing out as they fled, bruised and humiliated.
As he grew older, the overt bullying stopped, but the whispers and sidelong glances from the villagers continued. They whispered that his mother was a disgrace, a woman who had brought shame upon herself by allowing a foreigner to touch her. They sneered that he was the spitting image of his father, a man they considered an outsider, a stain on their community. The word "bastard" followed him like a shadow, but Asta learned to live with it. He buried the hurt deep down and focused on his own strength, using it as a shield against the world's cruelty.
When Asta turned eighteen, the priest sat him down for a conversation that would change his life. The old man had always been kind, a surrogate father figure in the absence of his own, but this was different. He told Asta the truth—the real story of his origins. His mother had indeed been loved by the village once, she was seen as special. Having bright beautiful green eyes which were a rarity amongst the average Japanese. She was a respected woman until her life took a tragic turn. She had married young, but her first husband was banished for reasons Asta never learned. Then, a Greek man arrived in the village, and despite their differences, they fell deeply in love. They planned to marry, but something went wrong. There was a disagreement, and Asta's father left, returning to Greece without knowing that he had left his lover pregnant.
The village, feeling dishonored by this scandal, turned its back on Asta's mother. She was ostracized, her health deteriorated, and she was forced to give birth in the church where she had once been welcomed. She died soon after, leaving Asta to grow up in the orphanage, a constant reminder of a love that the village refused to acknowledge.
The revelation left Asta stunned. All the rumors he had heard, all the whispers he had tried to ignore, were true. His father was a foreigner, a man who had abandoned his pregnant mother, and the village had punished them both for it. The priest urged him not to hold a grudge, to forgive the villagers for their narrow-mindedness. But Asta couldn't help it; the hatred he had kept buried for so long began to boil over. The villagers' hypocrisy, their cruelty toward his mother, their treatment of him as less than human—all of it became too much to bear.
This was the final straw. Asta could no longer see the villagers as anything but the source of his pain. He had learned to survive despite them, to grow strong in the face of their prejudice, but now he saw them for what they truly were—small-minded, hateful people who couldn't see past their own prejudices.
Asta decided it was time to find his father, the man who had left his mother and unknowingly left him to face a world that constantly reminded him of his illegitimacy. With nothing but the name "Julius" to go by, he set out from the only home he had ever known. The priest and his orphan siblings gathered at the church's doorway, wishing him luck, offering prayers that he desperately needed. His destination? Athens, the heart of Greece, a bustling city full of opportunities, but equally full of obstacles.
Finding a man named Julius in Athens turned out to be harder than Asta had expected. He was practically drowning in a sea of Juliuses, with no further information to guide him. Days turned into weeks as he searched, bouncing from one clue to another, all dead ends. And to make things worse, he was swindled out of the little money he had—cash meant for a cheap motel room. With no other option, he found himself sleeping under a bridge alongside the city's homeless, waking up each day with stiff muscles and a stubborn resolve not to give up.
The mistake Asta made was assuming his father was an ordinary man, just another face among the masses. He imagined his father as a commoner, someone easy to blend into the crowd. He had no idea his search was about to take a dramatic turn.
One fateful afternoon, Asta was bathing in a secluded lake—something that, in hindsight, was probably a terrible idea. Turns out the lake was on private, government-protected land. It didn't take long for the authorities to find him and arrest him for trespassing. As fate would have it, the Prime Minister of Greece happened to be surveying the area that day with his entourage. When he spotted Asta being hauled off, his reaction was immediate and intense.
The moment Julius Nova Kronos, the Prime Minister, laid eyes on him, something shifted in the air. His entourage watched in confusion as he rushed toward the boy. His hands gripped Asta's shoulders tightly, his eyes wide with disbelief, emotions barely contained.
"What is your name, boy?" Julius asked, his voice thick with something close to desperation.
"Asta," the boy replied, startled by the sudden shift in energy.
Julius broke down. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled Asta into a tight embrace. "My son," he whispered, louder as he repeated, "My son is here!"
The entire situation felt surreal to Asta. One moment, he was homeless and arrested, and the next, he was recognized as the long-lost son of the Prime Minister of Greece. Julius immediately ordered Asta's release, ensuring he was fed, dressed, and cared for. Within hours, Asta found himself sitting among the elite of Greek society, a stark contrast to the life he had lived under a bridge. He dined on food he had only dreamed of, every bite a reminder of how much his world had changed in the blink of an eye.
Later that evening, his father invited him to the balcony for a private conversation. The night air was cool, and the city lights of Athens twinkled below them. Julius studied Asta's face for a moment before speaking. "You have your mother's eyes," he said softly. "That's how I knew. The moment I saw you, I knew."
Asta's heart tightened as his father asked about her. With a heavy heart, he told Julius the truth, his mother had died shortly after his birth. The news devastated the Prime Minister. He broke down again, recounting how his last words to her had been in anger, how he had left for Greece after a fight, never realizing she was pregnant. "I told her I was sick of her," he admitted through tears, "but I never was. I loved her, Asta. I loved her more than anything."
A week later, they traveled to Japan together to visit her grave. It was a somber reunion as they stood in front of her headstone, the weight of missed time hanging heavily in the air. Julius made amends with the priest who had raised Asta, donating generously to the church as a show of gratitude. When they left, it was with a renewed sense of purpose. Asta was no longer a nameless, fatherless child—he was the son of the Prime Minister.
Despite his new status, Asta remained grounded. He adapted quickly to his new life, learning how to walk, talk, and act like the elite men of Greece. But he never forgot his humble beginnings or the values instilled in him by the church. He remained the same Asta—fiercely loyal, protective of those he cared about, and unyielding in the face of adversity.
When he graduated from high school, he set off on a new quest: to find his half-brother, Liebe, in Germany. Even as his life flourished under the title of a nobleman, the whispers of his mixed heritage never truly died down. There were always those who looked at him with suspicion, who saw his Greek and Japanese blood as something to be mocked. Some ridiculed him for his height—at five foot four, he was far shorter than the typical Greek man of his age. But Asta never let it bother him. His size was inconsequential when compared to the strength he had gained over the years.
Whenever the whispers became too much, he silenced them the same way he always had; through action. In the Panhellenic Games, he outperformed men twice his size, proving that while his height might be considered inferior, his raw physical strength was something no one could deny. His body was a testament to his grit, his determination, and his refusal to let the world break him. Even in a society where his very existence was seen as a stain by some, Asta rose above it all, unshaken, just as he had always done.
Asta stood in front of his dresser, both hands gripping its edge, leaning forward as if the weight of his thoughts might buckle his knees. His head hung low, his eyes fixated on nothing. The guys were already out, canvassing their familiar places in the city for answers they thought would lead them to the truth. But Asta knew better. Deep down, he always had. They were chasing fucking wild geese, this was all a scam!
Japan is a scar that needs to be wiped from this world... You've known that, son. And even if you don't see it now, you'll realize it soon. His father's voice kept resounding in his ears. Julius had planted that hatred in him early, like a slow-acting poison. The bitterness came flooding back, unbidden, as Asta remembered the way his mother had been treated, how she had suffered at the hands of those people. How he had suffered. He could still feel the sting of their cruelty, the sideways glances, the whispered words. Father had told him to forgive them. Be the better man.
But maybe Father had lied.
Asta clenched his fists, knuckles white from the strain. He hadn't forgotten those lessons, no matter how much time had passed. But now... Now everything felt different. He had people here—Noelle, his friends, even everyone he knew at the orphanage. They weren't part of the darkness his father despised so much. They were proof that maybe, just maybe, there was good in this place.
And yet...
Part of him still wondered if Julius had been right all along. Maybe Japan did need to burn.
His gaze drifted towards the second locker attached inside the dresser. Hidden beneath the fabric, tucked away but never far from reach, was the gun. His fingers twitched at the thought of it. The weight of its presence in the room seemed heavier than usual, like it was pulling him into a decision he wasn't ready to make.
It wasn't the first time he'd handled it, but it always felt different. There was something final about holding a weapon like that, a sense of power—and responsibility—that Asta wasn't sure he could bear. Unlike Tanjiro whome everyone knew possessed a katana, something honorable, something righteous. But the gun... Asta had kept that a secret. It wasn't for show. It wasn't for pride. It was for moments like this—when the world pushed his damn buttons, and there was no other way out. When words and ideals weren't enough, and something had to break.
He swallowed hard, his throat dry. The others didn't know. Hell, they didn't even suspect.
But Asta did. And now, he was sure as hell pushed to the fucking edge.
Boruto moved through the underworld of Tokyo like it was his natural habitat. This was where he thrived—away from the light, in the shadows where deals were struck with a nod and a handshake, and debts weren't forgotten. And tonight, he was here to collect.
He stepped into the dimly lit shop, his gaze sweeping across walls lined with weapons from both past and present. There was a smell of oil, steel, and something that felt like the weight of a dozen bad decisions. Before he could take another step, a kunai flew towards him with deadly precision. In one smooth motion, Boruto caught it mid-air, his fingers wrapping around the cold metal as he stared at its source.
"Aw, Chi-Chi, what's with the warm welcome?" Boruto grinned, his voice oozing playful mockery. "Do I really piss you off that much?"
Chihiro stood behind the counter, dark hair falling over his bored crimson eyes, arms crossed like he had all the time in the world to kill—and maybe he did. He didn't even bother to hide his annoyance. "Don't call me that," he muttered. "What do you want?"
Boruto exaggerated a hurt expression, bringing a hand to his chest. "Rude. And here I was thinking you'd be happy to see me. This is why I like Haruki more—he's nicer. And way cuter."
Chihiro's eyes narrowed, flashing with irritation, but Boruto was already sliding onto the barstool in front of the counter, his grin never faltering.
"I need a favor," Boruto said, the teasing tone dropping as he leaned forward.
Chihiro raised an eyebrow. "I don't owe you anything. Shiba does, and he's not here."
Boruto tilted his head, lips curling into a smirk. "What if I could make it worth your while? I've got info that could destroy the Hishaku. And I'm guessing that's worth more than a few katanas to you."
For the first time, Chihiro's expression shifted. His eyes flicked to Boruto, a glimmer of interest behind that practiced indifference. "What do you know about the Hishaku?"
Boruto's smirk widened. "A lot. Enough to bring them to their knees. But they're not my problem anymore—I walked away from that life a long time ago."
Chihiro's eyes darkened. He knew exactly what Boruto was talking about. Back when Boruto was deep in the Kenzen Byōtō, Orochimaru's crime organization, Boruto had run the underground with a ruthless efficiency and the Hishaku had been just one of the many syndicates that bent the knee to him. But that was then.
"Are we doing this or not?" Boruto asked, leaning back casually, his hands resting on the counter as though he owned the place.
Chihiro stayed silent, clearly weighing his options. After a tense moment, he sighed. "Alright. Shiba still owes you."
Boruto chuckled. "Thought so."
Chihiro's gaze sharpened. "This is about that midget friend of yours, isn't it? Asta."
Boruto shrugged, a lazy grin playing on his lips. "Well, it's helpful that you're already up to speed. Saves me the trouble of explaining."
Chihiro drummed his fingers on the counter, his expression unreadable. "Asta's a big name now. People in power don't like competition like that, especially from a bastard with a pedigree like his. As for why they'd leak something so personal… that's not their endgame. It's just a distraction."
Boruto's eyes narrowed. "Distraction from what?"
"From something bigger. The people behind this—they don't just want Asta embarrassed. They want him gone, off the board entirely. But they're not stupid enough to kill him outright. That'd spark a war."
Boruto frowned, leaning in closer. "So what's the play?"
Chihiro shrugged, his expression cool. "They need him to leave. Willingly. Without force. If Asta leaves Japan on his own, no one can cry foul. No one can say a war was provoked. Clean and simple."
Boruto's frown deepened, and he crossed his arms, trying to piece it together. "Make him leave by himself…?"
"Wait, I don't get it!" Yuji exclaimed, staring at Mash, who was too focused on noisily slurping his slushie to respond immediately. "So, they just want Asta to…leave?!"
Yuji had only stopped by his favorite bakery for a quick treat, but by chance, he'd bumped into Mash, cream puffs in hand, looking as unbothered as ever. After catching up over pastries, Rayne had joined them—unexpectedly, for Yuji, anyway. Turns out, Mash and Rayne had planned to meet for a date. Not that Mash had mentioned that part earlier.
Rayne took a sip of his coffee, his expression as calm and composed as always. "Well, he's not going to leave so easily," he said, leaning back in his chair. "So they're going to be very persuasive about it."
"Persuasive?" Yuji raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.
Rayne nodded slowly, his tone growing more serious. "They'll use anything or anyone against him. Leverage his fears, his weaknesses. Maybe even the people he cares about."
Yuji's brow furrowed. "But…what could make Asta back down like that? He's not the type to just run."
Rayne's eyes darkened as he placed his cup down on the table. "Everyone has a breaking point, Yuji. Even Asta. They just need to find his."
Yuji slumped back in his seat, the weight of Rayne's words pressing down on him like a lead blanket. Does Asta know this? He replayed the conversation in his mind, trying to piece it all together. "Who could they want to use against him?" he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. Sure, Asta had plenty of friends, but none of them had the kind of status that could really land him in trouble... except—
His thoughts trailed off as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened, the puzzle finally clicking into place.
"Shit!" he shot up from his seat so fast he nearly knocked over his chair. "I've gotta—uh—I'll see you guys later!" Yuji stammered, already turning toward the door.
For the first time today, Mash's face showed something other than his usual blank expression: worry. "Yuji, wait—"
But there wasn't time. Yuji was already sprinting toward the exit before either Mash or Rayne could stop him. His phone buzzed in his pocket just as he hit the street, the screen lighting up with Boruto's name. Perfect timing.
"Yo, Boruto, what's up—"
"No time!" Boruto's voice cut through the line, sharp and urgent. "Head to Shibuya, now. Shit's about to go down!"
Before Yuji could even respond, the call ended with a cold click. He stared at his phone in stunned silence, his mind racing to catch up.
"Shit. What the fuck is going on?!" he muttered under his breath. This was getting way too real, way too fast. Whatever was happening, this didn't look like a prank or a scandal attempt anymore because it was turning into a full blown disaster.
And Yuji had a gut feeling Asta was right at the heart of it.
Asta's face hardened with grim resolve as he approached the abandoned building, every step deliberate, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. The old structure stood like a forgotten monument to decay, crumbling walls, shattered windows, and graffiti screaming silent threats from every corner. It was the kind of place you wouldn't walk past after dark unless you had a death wish.
He stopped at the entrance, his breath steady as he slipped a hand inside his jacket, fingers brushing against the cold, reassuring steel of the gun hidden there. His heartbeat was calm, too calm for what was about to happen, but that's how he'd trained himself to be.
They went too far. He never expected them to cross this line, to take things to such a level of deceit and violence. But they had. Oh, they had.
Julius' voice echoed in the back of his mind, cold and bitter. Japan is a scar that needs to be wiped from this world, Asta. They'll take everything from you, just like they did from me...
He gritted his teeth, pushing the memory away, but the anger stayed. This wasn't just about revenge anymore—it was personal. They wanted to use him, to break him, to push him to the point where he'd fall in line.
His grip tightened on the gun as he stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. Oh, I'm going to kill these bastards.
They had no idea what was coming...
I think I had more fun writing Asta's chapter or maybe it's just me being biased idk :-D
Well, we're done with the main character's introductions, time to move the plot!