The date glowed on his charged phone, indifferent to the hour in the dark.
January 2. 2025. 4:50 am.
While Renji still cocooned beneath his blanket, suspended in that perfect balance between heater-warmed air and the biting cold that waited beyond the sheets.
And at once, his blanket was ripped away in one violent sweep.
"Wake the fuck up!!"
"—GgGGggghhwwWOooAHHH!!"
Renji shot upright in surprise, blinking like a newborn dragged into light for the first time. His mind hadn't caught up to his body. He looked left, right, mouth half open, completely dumbstruck
"Tch!"
Impatient hand clawed around his ankle.
Before he could even process it, he was dragged off the bed. His back scraped over the mattress edge and off—
*Thud.*
—Face planted to the wooden floor without mercy.
"OWW! W-wait!! What??" His arms flailed uselessly as he was hauled out his room like a pile of overdue laundry.
Who-wha-What is THIS?? Kidnapping???
He tensed his neck and finally focused his eyes to the perpetrator. Stocky, bald man, with an air like Japanese war veteran. One that he already acquittanced with.
"H-huh?? Jin-san??"
Jin did not answer. He didn't even look down.
Renji's shirt bunched around his torso as he was dragged closer to the sliding door.
"W-where?? J-Jin-san?! What happened!?"
The door to the outside loomed ahead, thin wood and paper separating warmth from winter. Only then, Jin abruptly released him.
Renji's lower half hit the floor altogether with another dull crack.
"O-oooow…"
Through one scar-lined eye, Jin glanced at him with complete disinterest.
"Get the fuck up and follow me, you brat."
He slid the shōji open, winter rushed in and sliced across Renji's bare skin mercilessly, carrying the dry scent of snow and pine. His breath turned instantly to mist.
"Brrr-c-cold!! T-the hell…?!"
"I said—GET UP!"
"Y-yes sir!!"
Renji scrambled to his feet, then trailed after him.
Trudging over the snowy path, until the simple structure of outdoor dojo entered his view, its dark wood beams outlined in frost. Beside it loomed the storage warehouse. From the shadows, several figures stirred.
W-what's going to happen to me…? S-should I run...??
Renji notices other men were already there and already stretching, all their tattooed and trained build, layered in training jackets, hands wrapped in tape made him gulped harder.
"J-J-jin-san, wh-what're we doing here…?"
Jin didn't respond. He walked to the corner and took out one bamboo sword, and slammed it against the wooden floor.
"You lot! 20 laps around, NOW!"
Without words, all the people present except Renji began moving as told.
"Did you not hear me, brat…?" Jin voice dropped to a dangerous edge, as he glared at him with killing intent.
"S-Sir, yes sir!"
Then Renji followed the others, running laps around the dojo.
The hell...?? morning drill?? No one told me about this!
One of them turned his head to look at him. "What? New kid?"
Another snorted. "Looks like a wimp."
Renji's eye twitched.
"KEEP PACE YOU LOT!!" Jin voice shot through the air making all of them running faster.
Cold air stabbed into his lungs as he ran, while the others still steady, Renji began to sound like a broken engine.
No… No! this is impossible...!!
By the third lap, his nose was running. By the fifth, his thighs burned. On the seventh, one of the men overtook him without even looking. And after that, he stopped counting the laps.
Renji staggered in last, as the others had already regrouped inside the dojo and began doing next set of work-out.
"Stop dragging your feet and get down!! 50 push-ups for you!"
Jin immediately shouts a new instruction the moment he arrives, crawling like a baby.
"H-hah fifty??" Renji's face that already gone pale from dehydration—drained more of its color.
Obviously fed-up with how he responded, Jin walked to his direction with heavy steps, and swings his bamboo sword to strike at Renji's outer thigh.
"Get in your position, brat!! NOW!!"
"O-OW-YES SIR!!"
Renji followed, his palms hitting the cold wood. The others moved like a machine. completing their push-up one by one. Renji endured right before twenty before his arms gave up.
"You called that push-up…? Redo it from the start." Shadowing over him, Jin's boots stopped in front of his head, said with pure disdain.
"Y-you're kidding!!"
The bamboo sword strike the floor once with a loud crack as his answer.
Alright!! Alright!!!
"One-two-"
Yet, despite forcing his best effort, each rep made his arms shook violently, and felt like his elbows were filled with rust.
Around him, the others had already moved on to another routine. But Jin keeping his eyes over Renji all the time.
"Lower your hips!"
"Back straight!"
"Again!"
Every correction came with either a shout or the sting of bamboo tapping sharply against his muscle.
"I'm trying!!" Renji hissed, teeth clattering more from pain than cold now.
By the time he finished his push-ups, with even more reps added, the other were already taking a break. As he stood up, he's wobbled like a newborn deer, knees threatening to fold inward, which earned him sneer and laughter around the dojo.
"Enough! You're a fucking disaster… brat… get your ass here on your own tomorrow at the exact hour. Now scram."
With that, Jin walked away from him, and continue with the others at the dojo.
--------
By the time he managed to drag himself back toward the main building, the sun already shining over the horizon, washing the snow in pale gold, Renji's body felt like it belonged to someone else.
"Ow-ow-ow-ow…"
Every step to his room sent small protests through his calves.
The hell was that for? Bullying?? That had to be bullying, right!?
After reaching his room, he goes straight to the bathroom, steam filled as he stood under the shower, letting warm water wash against his sore muscles and bruises.
Even if that was a morning drill, I'm a beginner dammit!!
"Does he still have some grudge because last month or he's just that guy…??"
*Knock.* *Knock.*
…Ghh… who is it now…?
"Y-yes!! Give me a minute!" Renji answered through the bathroom.
He briefly dried his hair and body, wearing the jinbei prepped at the drawer, he open the door cautiously, bracing for another assault from another senpai he did not know yet, instead—
"Tohara-san, good morning. Here is your breakfast."
The head caretaker stood there with a tray in her hands. Her calm smile and unshakeable composure show the proof of decades managing a household far larger than herself.
"Ah… Aya oba-san… Thank you."
He suddenly remembered Shira mentioning something about breakfast.
"Tohara-san, yesterday, you did not take your breakfast?"
"Ah… that… I didn't know there was breakfast… Or that it was delivered to my room."
"Oh, I see… Then you may expect breakfast at 7.30 each morning. When you're done, simply leave the empty tray outside your door."
"Wow… okay."
"Well then. Excuse me, Tohara-san. Please enjoy."
She bowed lightly and departed down the hall with silent steps.
Renji closed the door and carried the tray to the coffee table.
This is how living in a mansion is…?
The moment he opened the lid, steam rose from a lacquered bowl of miso soup. The scent of fermented soybean and seaweed wafted around. A perfectly grilled fillet of salmon rested on a ceramic plate. Tamagoyaki sliced neatly into 3 bites. And pickled vegetables added bright splashes of color. Finally, his eyes stopped at the bowl of freshly steamed rice.
His mouth watered from the sight and aroma alone.
"This kind of breakfast… and it's delivered to your front door…"
Must be nice being rich… man…
He pressed his palms together.
"Itadakimasu."
By the time he savored the food, the sting in his muscles seemed less offensive.
--------
"Good to see you, Hiraga-san."
The calm and almost musical-like voice echoed in the quiet room.
"Yes, thank you for your time. You must've been busy."
"Same thing could be said to you… going out on your way to pay a visit out of nowhere…"
The porcelain teacup touched its saucer with a soft click.
Both women sit around the space that resembled private office, it was not too large, but carried the quiet density of authority. The windows behind the desk overlooked a disciplined stretch of Tokyo.
Framed commendations lined one wall. Gold seals beneath glass, photographs with ministers and commissioners, each smile carefully preserved in front of the deep navy curtains draped at each side.
Reika glanced at the bronze placard on the desk that caught her own reflection occasionally—distorted by the carved kanji.
'SENIOR SUPERINTENDENT Nagao Yamagami'
The woman behind the desk, looks in her early 30s clad in the clean police uniform, her reddish-dark long hair draped to her back, sitting like a fine sculpture, calculating eyes beneath the glint of her glasses staring at Reika with her arms crossed behind the desk.
"How's life on your side?" Yamagami asked, with serene smile at her lips.
"…Nothing much worth mentioning, Yamagami-san"
"Well… I guess we won't dwell on pleasantries. You had your reasons." Her fingers tapped the envelope resting on her desk. "So… what is this invitation actually about?"
The paper was thick, embossed with the KHX insignia in its trademark silver.
"It is for KHX… to be exact… Kokuren's annual New Year banquet."
"Ah." Yamagami's smile grew more, and her tone weaved with sarcasm. "It's been a while… I remember attending once at your mother's invitation—I don't recall ever being invited by you."
"…I recently realized I should extend the courtesy."
"Just like that?" her laugh was soft, almost affectionate. "A moment of sudden gratitude…? Hiraga-san…?"
"Yamagami-san, I have never harbored any intentions you're implying. When I assumed control, I just chose to make the banquet internal for efficiency purpose."
"And now you're opening it again?"
"…Because I realize it is better that way."
"I see." She leaned back slightly, studying her as one might examine a chessboard. "So. You are in a predicament."
Reika met her stare, cool and unblinking, a hint of annoyance painted her eyes.
"…"
Yamagami let out a soft chuckle. "Don't worry. I'm teasing you. Never had the luxury of teasing Hiraga-sama… your mother's hard to poke around, hehe."
"Please… Yamagami-san…"
"Very well." Yamagami resting her elbows lightly on the desk. "Enough of this dance. You want my presence at your banquet."
"…Yes—"
"More like… you want police assurance to your connections, Hiraga-san…?"
Reika did not deny it, instead she just nod. "I would greatly appreciate it, if you could make time to attend this Saturday."
"Normally… I would reject such an urgent invitation." She mused, then the silence stretched a fraction longer than comfortable. "But for Hiraga… I will accept."
"…Thank you, Yamagami-san." Reika nodded her head once more.
Yamagami tilted her own, expression shifting. Lighter, but one with masked professionalism. "Though. The understanding I had with Hiraga-sama back then—"
"Yes." Reika's voice lowered slightly. "I wished to speak of that as well. Next month, at—"
Before she could finish, Yamagami interrupted her again.
"—Hiraga-san. Since you assumed control of Kokuren, our… arrangement has been orderly."
"…And that is good, Yamagami-san"
"A warehouse scuffle in, a minor debt dispute… a controlled altercation in deserted place around Tokyo."
"Easy and clean, contained as planned."
"Hmm… that one time where there's firearms involved… at Hachioji's empty factory… to refresh your memory about that…"
"Of course I remember…" Reika immediately frown her brows when she heard it, "…That was… because that was unfortunately… turned into an actual escalation…"
"That one was quite interesting."
"… I don't think we need—"
"—Hiraga-san… people these days have short attention spans, you see… so fickle." After one quiet sip from her teacup, Yamagami continued, "Last time the news about the police rounding up our 'scenario' aired, it didn't even survive a full news cycle… By evening, it was buried beneath the video of highschooler dancing on social media."
"…What's your point?"
"Don't you think it's about time for bigger headlines…?"
"I've been keeping our agreements… you have received your arrests," Reika lift her teacup, just to stare at it, the ripple inside reflected her amber eyes. "And it is my freedom to decide the menu."
"That's why I'm saying your menu is boring lately… my dear chef…"
"…" Reika put back the teacup and grimace at her.
"I know one of your ships recently had a shipment detained at customs." Yamagami gently smiled at her. "Unclear documentation gold under raw steel construction materials."
A beat of silence, Reika eyes almost faltered before she guarded it again. "…Continue."
"Instead of letting them rot in paperwork limbo… use them…"
"…Very well. I can arrange it."
Yamagami's voice softened. "Illicit imports intercepted during violent confrontation. Police protect the public from armed conflict. Media reports decisive action. Everyone applauds."
"…What? You want firearms too…?"
"Why not? Just toss one or two around the stage."
"This is too excessive, what if there's a casualty?"
"I believe you have a line of capable people to make sure it won't happen, no?"
"…" Reika look away from her, breaking the eye contact.
"No need to be so disheartened, Hiraga-san." Yamagami leaned forward slightly. "I am only asking for a due reassurance… a reminder that police can still break something large."
"I'll see what I can do… But, Yamagami-san… ensure your officers arrive on time. I dislike further improvisation."
Then Yamagami lifted her own cup, and gestured toward Reika.
"Why, of course. This is all for the balance between us, you receive a certain… leniency. In return, the police receive visible victories."
"…I understand."
"Good… then we remain in harmony."
A long silence stretched, the room seemed warmer now, though neither woman had moved much beside sipping their tea.
"Well then," Yamagami said lightly, lifting the invitation once more, "what is the dress code for this banquet of yours?"
Reika rose smoothly from her chair, ready to leave the conversation.
"…Just don't wear your uniform."
For the first time—not only her lips, but Yamagami eyes smiled, as she waved lazily at Reika's figure disappeared behind the door.
--------