Chapter 15

At midnight, on the dot, Wataru stirred awake from his restful sleep, instinctively checking his surroundings without moving. Realizing he wasn't home, he carefully looked down, squinting through blurry vision, only to come face-to-face with a petite young woman curled up against him, breathing deeply. All memories of the events leading up to falling asleep in Yurina's bedroom flooded back.

The buzzing of his phone jerked him further awake. Groaning in irritation, he silenced the call and then sat up abruptly, rubbing at his tired face. He glanced down, and his expression softened briefly before returning to normal. He answered his phone without glancing at the caller ID, his voice husky from sleep. "What do you want?"

"Boss, we need you here. There's a situation," a voice crackled over the line, sounding urgent. "And... it's not going well."

"You should be able to handle it yourselves." Wataru's words dripped with annoyance, and Yurina stirred a bit. He stroked her hair absentmindedly to help keep her asleep. Part of him wished he could stay with her; it was weird. Wataru didn't usually have thoughts like that.

"We gave them what they requested. A hundred pounds of Ice. But they're refusing to pay and are demanding twice the amount at a lower price. They're threatening us, Boss. We can't handle this many guys alone. If they start shooting—"

"Then start fucking shooting!" Wataru growled angrily. "Stop being pussies. Do I really have to do everything myself? Do I need to wipe your ass, too?" He hung up the phone and quickly got up from the bed. Yurina immediately woke up after hearing him raise his voice.

"Did you have a bad dream?" She mumbled. Yurina rubbed at her eye and sat up, yawning. She looked so vulnerable in the dim lighting of her room. Wataru could still see how her hair fell over her face, and her cheeks were still flush pink from sleep. He pushed her half-awake body back onto the mattress and kissed her lips softly. Yurina was surprised but kissed him back eagerly, albeit sleepily.

"Go back to sleep. I'll see you later." He didn't wait for a response; he just left the room, not even bothering to spare a second glance. Wataru had to hurry. The sooner he could get back to sleep, the better.

On a lone street, Wataru pulled up to the jet-black van being used by his associates. Two men, Haruto and Kaito, were relieved to see him. "Boss! You're finally here." Kaito said, running over to Wataru. "We were about to call again. Where were you?"

"Around." He looked over at Haruto, standing in front of the van. "Open it," Wataru ordered, and the man did as he was told. He opened the van doors to reveal the methamphetamine that was requested. The product was kept in two large crates stacked on each other. "What happened to the other two crates?"

Kaito swallowed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, they took them inside. Said they needed to test out—"

"You fucking idiots!" Wataru shouted angrily, slamming his fist down hard on one of the crates. Both men winced. "You're supposed to supervise the transaction. Not hand over the shit before getting the money. Jesus Christ, you're both dumbasses." Wataru pushed them aside and walked into the building with the two in tow. They followed obediently.

Once inside, Wataru was greeted by the sight of an empty lobby, but he could hear raucous laughter coming from a side room. Without hesitation, he kicked open that door, revealing four men sitting around a table. The two crates Wataru was looking for were placed on top of the table. One man was smoking, the others were snorting the Ice, and the last one was laughing uncontrollably. All of them were clearly high. When they saw Wataru, however, their demeanor changed completely. A tense silence descended upon the room; everyone stopped talking except for the one man who'd been snorting.

"What's up?" He grinned widely, showing yellow teeth. "We weren't expecting guests."

"You think this shit is funny?" Wataru asked coldly, glaring at each of them in turn. He then turned to Haruto and Kaito. "This is what happens when you don't take care of business yourselves," he scolded. Wataru turned back towards the men at the table. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight," he said, pulling his gun from his waistband and aiming it at the man speaking. "Or else I would've already blown your fucking brains out."

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" The man waved his hands wildly, his smile faltering slightly. "C'mon now, let's talk business."

"The business was already discussed. This was the price." Wataru cocked the hammer of the gun and pressed the barrel to the man's temple. "Give me one good reason not to put a bullet in your head."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on!" The man's eyes grew wide. "I'll get the money! Just give me some time, alright? We were testing it out first. Right, boys?"

From the corner of his eye, Wataru noticed another man reaching for a weapon hidden in his jacket pocket. Before he could react, however, Kaito grabbed the man by the wrist and slammed his face into the table. The sound was loud, and blood spurted everywhere.

Wataru sighed and lowered his gun. "Fucking hell. Now I've got blood on my shoes." He stepped over the screaming man and grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him up easily. The man whimpered in pain, clutching his nose. It was definitely broken.

"You broke my nose, you bastard!" the man cried, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. "Fuck!"

"Shut the hell up," Wataru snapped, dropping his hold on the man's shirt. Aggravatedly, Wataru repeatedly smacked the tip of his gun against his own temple, right where his eyepatch covered his eye. With a sigh, he muttered under his breath, "Fuck it." He aimed and shot the man he had just threatened in both kneecaps. "If anyone else in this motherfucker has a problem, let me know now. Because if there's another issue later on down the line, you're fucking done."

With one man crying about his nose and another screaming in agony after having his kneecaps blown out, no one dared speak against him. "I want triple the original price. And I want it by sunrise. If not..." Wataru pointed the gun at them again. "...Well, use your imagination." With that threat lingering in the air, Wataru stormed off. Kaito and Haruto followed suit, carrying the two crates that were left behind, as well as a bag filled with money.

Once outside, Kaito and Haruto began loading the van with the crates. At the same time, Wataru leaned against the hood, lighting up a cigarette. "Boss?" Kaito said, getting his attention.

"Yeah?" He inhaled deeply, blowing out a thick stream of smoke. Kaito dropped to his knees, formally bowing to Wataru. But Wataru simply shook his head. "I expected more out of you, Kaito." Then, he turned his head toward Haruto. "You're new though, huh? I guess you have to start somewhere."

Wataru took out the switchblade he'd used to pick Yurina's lock and flicked it open. He walked up to Haruto, who stood frozen in fear, his legs trembling. "B-Boss?" Haruto stuttered. He tried backing away but found himself trapped against the side of the van. Forcefully, Wataru grabbed Haruto's right arm and held it in place, the blade hovering inches from his index finger. "Wait! I swear I'll do better next time!"

"You better," he grunted. He was about to bring the blade down and slice off Haruto's pinky when he paused. He looked down at the knife, then back at Haruto's terrified face. "I'm not feeling it," he sighed, retracting the blade. He put his switchblade back in his pocket and patted the man on the shoulder. "But next time you fuck up, I'm going to cut your nuts off. You got that?" Haruto nodded, his shoulders sagging in relief.

"B-Boss, Hideaki-sama is calling," Kaito interrupted, handing Wataru his phone. Wataru took it, his expression immediately darkening.

"What do you want, old man?" He answered, his tone flat.

There was radio silence for a moment before the call was dropped. "I can't catch a fucking break." Whenever Hideaki-sama, Wataru's father, called, he followed specific codes. If he called once and hung up, he needed to see him immediately. Which could only mean one thing; trouble.