Party

Jiro swirled a coffee before taking a sip, savoring its rich aroma as his intense eyes were locked on a sleeping figure.

He had been waiting for this moment for years and it was finally here. His personal tormentor and class bully, Natsuo Nakashima, was defenselessly and helplessly lying on his couch.

Jiro felt a sense of both satisfaction and vindication, knowing that his work and persistence had paid off. The bruises were still visible on Natsuo's face from the thugs he had hired through the yakuza to capture that rat on the streets.

He had approached Nichiro Kikiyo pleading for a favor. Let him save the beaten Natsuo from the sharp clutches of the yakuza and make a story about how they threaten people to join their ranks.

Nix had agreed in exchange for his unconditional loyalty to their clan. Jiro had pressed his white hair to the tatami mat as he vowed to serve Kikiyo’s family faithfully, his dark eyes burning with determination.

Jiro promised to be a shield for Natsuo, ensuring that he would remain unburdened by the yakuza's unwanted attention and influence.

His plan had worked flawlessly as he had successfully ensnared his prey. Now it was game on as Jiro carefully plotted his next steps for the ultimate victory.

Suddenly Natsuo was startled awake from his seemingly peaceful slumber. His eyes were wide with fright after he noticed the silhouette of Jiro and his silent observation of him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I made fresh coffee with roasted Andean beans. Would you like some?" Jiro asked with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"No, thanks," Natsuo answered groggily, blushing from shame as he realized he had been dozing off.

His cautious blue eyes surveyed the tattooed man as he couldn't help but feel that Jiro's intentions weren't as pure as his smile suggested. He had been determined not to let his guard down around Jiro, no matter how warm and welcoming he seemed - but his battered body betrayed him, unable to resist the fatigue that had been building up with every passing moment.

"I have something for you," Jiro said, placing the steaming cup on a table and grabbing an official-looking white envelope.

He handed him the letter, eagerly awaiting his response as Natsuo hesitantly opened it. Inside was a golden debit card, sparkling when the setting sun touched it through the window.

"You can buy whatever you want with it," Jiro smirked when Natsuo ran his fingers over the smooth surface.

"And don't worry, you won't run out of money anytime soon," he added with a laugh.

"I can't accept this," Natsuo muttered, a hint of trepidation in his voice as he tried to offer the card back.

"I already have one, don't need two," Jiro chuckled, his hands tucked inside his sweatpants pockets.

"But..."

"I think we should go shopping tomorrow for a wardrobe and a phone for you," Jiro suggested, glancing at his old shirt hanging loosely on Natsuo's legs.

Natsuo squeezed the card and murmured an embarrassed thank you. He made sure to keep his eyes downcast, giving a polite bow as a sign of his appreciation.

Jiro was almost speechless when Natsuo suddenly displayed such unexpected manners. The broad smile on his face was more than a joyful expression, but rather a sign of accomplishment and dominance over that rat.

(One day later)

They had taken a ride to the largest red-light district called Kabukichō, which was also one of the infamous neighborhoods of Tokyo. Not only was the area well-known for its criminal underworld, but it was also a place of vibrant nightlife, with its alluring shops and bars.

The car stopped in front of Kikiyo's nightclub. People lined up to get into the club as the thumping bass line echoed through the sidewalk, but the two bypassed the crowd and strode confidently into the venue past the doorman.

They stepped through pivot doors, walking into a grand entrance lit with red spotlights and sensual photographs of women in silver frames.

The atmosphere was alive with excitement as partygoers walked into the mysterious depths of the club through a swirling neon-lighted corridor.

Everywhere Natsuo looked was absolute chaos of color and sound, and he had never seen anything like it before. Multiple bar areas were serving cocktails to customers and the massive dance floor with flashing lights was swarming with jumping dancers when the DJ dropped the beat.

Next to a golden Buddha statue were black-lit stairs to the underground, leading to a dark door guarded by two men who kept a vigilant watch to ensure no unwanted guests ventured beyond that point.

"He is with me," Jiro told them, and they were let in without further questions.

The area was filled with a sense of luxury, with expensive drinks and cigars being served by scantily-clad women to tattooed men. Black curtains covered the walls and red lanterns illuminated the remains of white powder on the messy wooden tables. The atmosphere was unmistakably vulgar, with a loud hip-hop soundtrack blaring out of speakers in the far corner.

The oversized leather chair Nix sat in at the back of the room was curved like a throne. His commanding presence flooded the room with an undeniable presence of authority.

"That's his place. Don't ever sit on that," Jiro whispered.

Nix silently acknowledged their presence, while Jiro replied with a formal bow.

"Let me introduce you to my friends," Jiro said when he saw a group of people drinking and smoking loudly.

A guy with dyed blonde hair was talking when they approached, his voice tinged with arrogance. He stopped mid-sentence and grinned as if expecting them to be impressed by his show.

" - that is because when she falls, no one will laugh, but the ground will crack up."

"Koichi, you are so cringe," a grunge girl snorted with long black hair touching her back. She dramatically rolled her eyes and turned away, her black leather jacket creaking against the chair as she did.

"Hey, everyone, I want you to meet Natsuo. He is an old friend I used to have in school," Jiro said directing everyone's attention to them.

Natsuo remained silent, unsure of how to respond to the weird greeting. He shuffled his feet nervously, feeling a strange sort of unease in the air.

"This is Koichi and his twin sister Kyoko," Jiro said, nodding at the blonde guy and mute girl with big brown deer-like eyes next to him.

Nix had introduced Koichi to the group as they attended the same elementary school, so Jiro didn't really consider him a friend of his. He disapproved of Koichi's attitude most of the time, mainly because he treated Kyoko like an object to be controlled, and demanded things like coloring her hair to match him.

"And Shoji," Jiro continued, introducing a guy with black-framed glasses and a big crack between his front teeth.

He was Koichi's original friend, who seemed always to be fascinated by him. He showed deep admiration for Koichi's character and charm, even when others were rolling their eyes around him. Shoji was a decently good guy, not wanting to harm anyone but too naive to be manipulated by others.

"Ayumi," Jiro grinned, his face lighting up as he focused on the black-haired girl wearing heavy dark makeup. Her wildness had been a source of excitement for Jiro, and he couldn't help but smile widely at the thought of being able to call her his close friend.

"And where is Suzu?" Jiro wondered.

"Over there," Shoji said and pointed toward the back of the room.

Jiro's gaze followed Shoji's finger, and he noticed the girl with pink hair. Suzu perched on Nix's lap, her adoring eyes focused solely on him. She knew Ayumi to begin with, but her attention was now completely devoted to Nix.

"She is his girlfriend - or one of them. You will meet her later," Jiro sneered.

Nix's father Mori Kikiyo was the oyabun of the clan, the absolute leader of the yakuza, but he had been running from authorities for years now. Nix had to step up to the challenge and take his father's place, becoming the unquestioned leader of the yakuza and embodying the sinister clan's power and authority.

"He is not a talkative type," Koichi commented, an amused glint in his eye as he scanned Natsuo.

"Is that a problem?" Natsuo asked with a fake smile.

"Not at all. I'm not the type to make a lot of noise either," Koichi continued, his grin widening.

"No matter what Koichi says, ignore it. He is a douchebag," Ayumi sighed.

"I'll do that," Natsuo replied.

They were served sake bottles by a waitress who smiled as she set the drinks down.

"This is a welcome toast from Master Nichiro to the newcomer."

Nix remained in his chair, his keen gaze on Natsuo never faltering as he lifted his glass in the air. His subtle but powerful nod expressed all that needed to be said.

(The next day)

Natsuo awoke to a severe headache after sleeping on the leather couch. He groaned and slowly sat up, wincing as the pain throbbed through his head.

He had never been so drunk as yesterday. Taking a few deep breaths, Natsuo looked around and realized he was in a room he didn't recognize, but he vaguely remembered returning to Ayumi's house with her and Jiro.

The overall aesthetic of the room was a throwback to the past of rock and roll, with classic elements like black walls, red curtains, and leather furniture. A vintage guitar and band posters added to the room's music-inspired theme.

A click of the door latch was followed by the sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway.

The smell of fried chicken enveloped the room when Jiro arrived with bags of fast food.

"How are you feeling?" He asked Natsuo, who was rubbing his temples.

"Exhausted," Natsuo answered, his voice strained from the pounding ache in his skull.

Jiro sneered out of sympathy as he lowered the bags of food on Ayumi's cluttered short-legged dinner table.

"Here is something to eat if you are hungry," Jiro said as Ayumi slouched around the corner with mascara stains around her eyebags.

"Oh, sweet angel," Ayumi gasped when she saw the stacks of french fries Jiro had placed on the plate. She reached out to grab a handful of the steaming potatoes, her face lighting up with happiness as she stuffed them into her mouth.

Last night was a bit of a blur for Natsuo. He recalled the taste of whiskey and the loud music, but also the feeling of enjoying himself - something he hadn't experienced in a long time. He had let go of the worries that had been weighing him down and when the alcohol had flowed at its strongest, he really felt liberated from gnawing anxiety.

Natsuo watched Ayumi's and Jiro's playful banter with a small smile on his lips. He was reminded that the two of them had made him smile yesterday as well, restoring a twinge of warmth to his heart.