The alley still smelled of gunpowder.
Hayato lit another cigarette, the flame shaking slightly between his fingers. "Injin, huh…" he muttered, voice rough from smoke and memory. The city had gone quiet, but his chest hadn't.
He caught a taxi to Snowfield Cemetery, Bought some flowers on the way. Saying nothing the whole ride. The driver glanced back once, saw the blood on his cuffs, and decided against asking questions.
The cemetery gates groaned open like they remembered him.
He walked through rows of stone, the names blurring until one stopped him cold.
HINATA YUMI
1960 – 1982
He crouched, brushed the dust from her name, and laid down the flowers white lilies, the kind she used to keep by the window. "You'd probably scold me for smoking," he said, a hollow smile twitching across his lips.
The silence pressed harder than any gun.
"I couldn't protect you," he whispered. "All that training, all that killing… and I couldn't even save the one person who mattered to me the most."
He looked down, his hands trembling hands.
"I thought if I stayed away from this life, maybe it'd stop repeating… but i saw myself in that kid he wanted to protect the person he loved so i took him in, He's a really good kid you would definitely like him he's kinda shy though, He says with a small laugh. And there's this girl Miri, She's got a sharp tongue but she's kind and silly. Miyu is just like you even Nifumi said that, I can't lose them Hinata i will protect them with everything i have left, I need your strength.
The cigarette slipped from his hand and burned out in the snow.
Hayato stayed there, head bowed, the smoke fading into the cold wind like an apology that came too late.
Hayato stood up slowly, brushing the snow from his knees. The flowers looked too small against the stone. He exhaled, a cloud of smoke drifting into the cold air before he left the cemetery and left for hospital.
Hayato entered the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Itsuki was standing by Miyu's bed, fists trembling, jaw clenched so tight the veins in his neck showed.
"You let him go?" Itsuki's voice cracked through the quiet room like a blade. "You let that bastard walk out after what he did?"
Hayato stayed silent for a moment, taking in the sight Miyu's still body, Miri's worried face, and Itsuki, shaking with barely contained rage.
"Nifumi meant no harm," Hayato said evenly, stepping forward. "He wasn't here for Miyu. He came to see me."
Itsuki turned, eyes burning. He came here. In her room! Sat beside her like it was nothing. He touched her, Hayato!" His voice broke with fury. "And you just fucking let him walk away like that?!"
Miri flinched at the sudden rise in his tone. "Itsuki" she started, but he cut her off.
"Don't defend him, Miri!" Itsuki's voice shook. "You weren't there when she almost died! You don't get it!" He turned back to Hayato, breathing hard. "How can you say he meant no harm? You saw him. You felt it he's dangerous."
Hayato's expression didn't waver. "I did. But if he wanted to kill us, he would've done it already. You know it too. He's not the enemy here, Itsuki. He gave me information he's going to help us find who did this to her."
"Help?" Itsuki scoffed, stepping closer, fury radiating off him. "You really think someone like that helps without a reason?!" His voice cracked. "You're losing it, Hayato."
Miri grabbed Itsuki's arm. Stop please, calm down. You're scaring everyone.
But Itsuki pulled free, glaring at both of them, his voice raw. "You're both blind! I don't care what deal you made I'm finding that bastard myself."
Before Hayato could answer, Itsuki turned and stormed out, the door slamming hard enough to shake the frame.
Miri stood frozen for a moment before looking at Hayato. He's not wrong, you know… letting that man near her and then letting him go"
Hayato sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes heavy. I know. But right now, anger won't get us anywhere. Let him cool off.
Itsuki stormed out of the hospital, rage seething in every breath. His mind replayed the scene over and over Nifumi standing in Miyu's room, touching her hand, and Hayato letting him go. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think just move.
He wandered through the city until the noise around him faded. His hands trembled as he bought a cigarette from a corner store, lighting it with shaking fingers. The smoke burned down his throat, but it didn't calm him it just made the anger sharper.
Then he saw him.
Ken Yamazaki. The punk he'd once crushed former leader of Sumiyoshi, now just another ghost walking the streets.
Itsuki's body moved before his brain did. He sprinted forward, tackling Ken to the concrete.
"Where the hell is Kuro!?" Itsuki roared, landing blow after blow. "Tell me where he is!"
Ken grunted, blocking a punch and shoving him off. His nose was bleeding, but he grinned bitterly.
"The fuck is your problem, Asshole!? You're losing it!"
Itsuki came again wild, desperate, nothing like before. His punches were heavy but aimless, fueled by guilt instead of control. Ken ducked, countered, and smashed his fist straight into Itsuki's jaw. The hit cracked through the silence.
Ken didn't stop there he slammed a knee into Itsuki's stomach, then punched him across the face again and again until Itsuki collapsed against the wall.
"You're not the only one suffering, asshole!" Ken shouted, voice shaking with fury. He grabbed Itsuki by the collar and slammed him back down. "Because of you… they fucking took my sister!"
Itsuki's eyes widened the words hit harder than any punch. Ken's fists trembled as he kept hitting him, tears mixing with blood.
"Because of you… everything around me fell apart!"
Itsuki didn't fight back. He just took the blows, silent, his breath ragged. Blood ran down his cheek, dripping onto the pavement. Finally, Ken stopped, panting hard. Both of them collapsed onto the cold concrete beaten, bruised, and broken.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The street was empty except for the sound of their shallow breathing.
Ken turned his head slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You think you're the only one chasing ghosts…?"
Itsuki coughed, a faint smile twisting his lips. "No… just the only one stupid enough to keep running after them."
They lay there two guys swallowed by the same darkness, too hurt to fight it anymore.
They woke hours later with the sour taste of blood and concrete in their mouths, leaning against each other on the curb like broken statues. For a second nothing made sense then a raw, ridiculous laugh bubbled up from both of them, choking and sharp, as if sanity had slipped and left only the hunger underneath.
Itsuki pushed himself to a sitting position first, fingers trembling as he wiped dried blood from his lip. He looked at Ken with wild, bright eyes. "Where are they keeping your sister? Do you know the place?" His voice was flat, all the pleading gone and replaced by that dangerous thing that moved through him now.
Ken's grin was cracked and wet, but it was a grin. He spat, coughing, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Not confirmed," he said, breath ragged, but I heard docks. The old crane lot, east side. They move the girls through there on late runs. That's where the buyers meet." He slammed a palm on his knee like the plan had landed solid. Let's go beat the shit out of them and get her back.
Ken's laugh came out a little higher, almost hysterical. Hell fucking yeah!!. Let's burn that place down. He pushed to his feet, knees shaking, and itsuki followed without hesitation. They moved like two damaged storms, limping but driven, rage and a raw sort of hope pulling them forward.
They disappeared into the city, two shadows with the same reckless intent: find the dock, find the men who took her, and tear the place apart until they were given back what was stolen.
The yard smelled of oil and rust. Stacked containers threw long shadows under the sodium lights. Two thugs stepped forward from the dark, then more a line of men with pipes, bats, and a couple sporting katanas, faces set and mean. One of them spat into the gravel and called out, voice wide with menace, "What's the problem, kids? Why the fuck are you causing a ruckus? Want us to beat some sense into you?"
Ken didn't answer with words. He scooped up a rusty metal rod from the ground without hesitation and brought it down across the nearest thug's face. The crack of metal on bone echoed like a war drum. Ken laughed high and feral a sound that set something loose in him: "Bring it on, fuckers!"
Itsuki caught that laugh and grinned back, savage and hungry. That was the spark. They moved together, a pair of ruined boys charging into the teeth of the pack. Pipes rose and swung; katanas flashed.
They covered each other instinctively one drew the enemy's attention, the other struck from the side, both hitting hard and fast. Hits landed on ribs and heads; men dropped with wet thuds. When a katana slashed across Itsuki's forearm, burning pain shot through him, but Ken blocked the next blow with his own body and answered with a brutal swing that sent the attacker reeling.
The fight was ugly, close, and quick. Steel sang, leather cracked, and the cold air filled with curses and the wet sound of men collapsing. By the time the last thug toppled, both Ken and Itsuki were breathing hard, clothes streaked with blood and grime.
They didn't pause. With the path cleared, they shoved open the warehouse door and slipped inside, The air inside was damp and heavy with rot. A single bulb flickered overhead, throwing jagged shadows across crates and blood-stained tarps.
In the middle of the room stood a mountain of a man easily six-seven, muscles bulging beneath his shirt, His eyes locked on them, cold and unbothered.
Ken and Itsuki exchanged a quick glance a silent, reckless agreement and charged. Itsuki swung his steel pipe with all the force he had left, cracking it across the giant's skull. The sound rang out sharp, but the man didn't even blink.
Before Itsuki could swing again, the brute's hand shot out like a vice, wrapping around his throat. In one effortless motion, he lifted him off the floor and slammed him down hard enough to rattle the crates.
"Shit!" Ken barked, lunging in he kicked the man straight in the groin. The giant grunted, knees buckling for a second. That was enough.
Itsuki rolled, gasping for air, then grabbed the man's legs from behind and locked them tight. Ken took the opening, snatched a fallen katana, and drove it straight into the man's gut.
The blade sank deep but the monster didn't fall. Instead, he roared, pure rage and pain mixed, and his massive hands shot out, grabbing both boys by the head.
"Bastards!" he snarled, smashing their skulls together with terrifying strength. They hit the ground, dizzy and bleeding, while the brute ripped the katana from his own body, the blade dripping red.
He raised it high, ready to bring them
Down and then, Click.
A door creaked open. A casual voice cut through the chaos:
"What's with all the ruckus?"
The giant froze mid-swing.
From the doorway stepped Nifumi, hands in his pockets, blond hair catching the faint light. His eyes flicked from the bloodied boys to the wounded giant, and he smiled, almost lazily.
"Well," he said, tilting his head. "Didn't expect to find my own nephew here.."