After we finished explaining the basics to her. Mr. Bito and his son invited us out for dinner that night. Four bodyguards drove us to a hidden ramen shop tucked deep inside a narrow alley—one that few people even knew existed. Neon lights flickered overhead, pulsing in time with distant music spilling out from nearby entertainment districts.
The four of us stepped into the small shop, where an old bald man was busy blanching noodles behind the counter.
"Kozo, you free?" Mr. Bito called out.
"Kozo? As in faggot?" Seto squinted suspiciously.
"Oh, well, look who it is~" the bald old man said, scooping noodles into a bowl before walking out with a towel slung over his shoulder. "You look tired, Bito-sama."
"Not too bad," Bito replied. "Brought a couple of apprentices with me today."
"Wait, you run a ramen shop?!" Seto exclaimed. "That's insane! It smells amazing!"
"This kid wants to open his own ramen shop someday," Bito said casually. "Maybe you could let him help out here."
"Ohohoho!" Kozo laughed loudly. "If you're gonna work in my shop, you better have strong hands and stronger legs! Wahahaha!"
The entire shop filled with laughter. "Perfect," Seto shot back. "These legs raised me. I'd love to see how tough this place really is."
"Heh, this kid's got guts. I like you~" Kozo said."Relax. This whole alley belongs to Bito-sama anyway."
"Gambling dens, laundromats, perfect fronts for laundering money," I said calmly. "But what about your daughter?"
"If we're talking about the future," Haruki answered in his father's stead, "we'll make money through music and put my sister in the spotlight. You two will be her backup. If things go right, we'll all be set for life. Seems like only the Taiyoshin are still trying to adapt to the modern era."
"I can picture it," Seto said, slinging an arm over my shoulder. "Money for life, luxury as hell."
"So it's just you left up here?" I asked Bito.
"We're slowly purging the truly illegal stuff," Bito replied. "The police are getting sharper. One by one, yakuza groups are being forced underground. Only us and the Oniwabanshu are still trying to breathe up here, shedding the yakuza skin and becoming a gray-zone business. Staying out of the spotlight."
"These days, even having yakuza tattoos can land you in a holding cell if the cops catch on," Haruki added.
"And if we step into this world," I asked, "what should we be most careful of?"
Kozo's expression darkened.
"There's one thing," he said slowly. "A masked assassin known as… the Kaki Oni." He leaned closer.
"A freelance killer. No one knows his real identity. He plays both sides—our group and the Oniwabanshu. Every corpse he leaves behind carries orange smoke leaking from the gunshot wounds. It's a warning—one side telling the other they've crossed a line. Ignore it, and blood will follow." Kozo pulled down his collar, revealing an old bullet wound. "I almost died because of him. That bastard's skill is godlike."
Bito studied us both."The question is, are you willing to take the risk? To work in the shadows?"
Seto squeezed my shoulder. "With money for life? I'm in for a long-term investment."
"Honestly," Haruki said, "the moment you stepped into our home, you'd already answered."
I thought of a face from my past—someone I had once made a promise to.
"I'll do it for five hundred million yen," I said. "When I get that, I'll walk away." By then, I'll probably be dead of old age.
Bito chuckled. "Deal. What about you?"
"I'm flexible," Seto replied easily." But, uh… your daughter—when she turns eighteen, do I still have a shot?"
Bito laughed, amused. "That'll be up to Kurayami."
Haruki did not laugh. He grabbed Seto by the collar. "You idiot!"
Seto immediately raised his hands. "Hey, hey—just joking, senpai! Just kidding!"
"You should show some respect," Haruki snapped. "You're lucky I'm not breaking you right now."
"I agree with Haru," I said firmly. "Your attitude matters, especially in this place."
"I know, I know," Seto said, bowing deeply. "My bad."
"Enough," Bito said cheerfully. "Let's drink. Kozo—big ramen set and sake shots."
He pulled us both close, squeezing our shoulders.
We stiffened instinctively.
"From here on out," the boss declared, "you'll walk through hell to become our stars."
He ruffled our hair like we were his own sons. "And I'll be watching you," Haruki said, offering Seto a sake cup.
"Gladly, Senpai!" Seto grinned, clinking cups—and then crossed arms with Haruki to drink properly.
When the ramen arrived, Seto and I grabbed our chopsticks. "Thanks for the meal!"
We slurped greedily, exhaustion washing away in the heat of the broth. That very night, we were taken to an underground tattoo parlor—to be branded as members of the Taiyoshin. A sun was inked over the left side of my chest. Afterward, lying on the bed, I asked the artist for one more mark—beneath my left eye.
兄 Older Brother.
I walked out with my new friend, Hitorishi Seto. We'd only known each other for a day, yet it felt like fate had thrown us together.
"Well," I said, clenching my fist, "time to train the boss's daughter into an idol."
"Hell yeah!" Seto struck a pose, proudly showing off his new arm tattoo to a homeless old man sipping liquor nearby.
"You kids are something else," the man muttered before staggering away.
"We're kinda hot stuff now, huh?" Seto bumped my shoulder.
"Tomorrow might be even hotter," I chuckled.
Laughing, we climbed into the boss's car. The wheels rolled across a bridge toward a dazzling sea of neon lights—
Tokyo.
A blue butterfly slipped out from the moving car and soared upward, toward an office building. On the rooftop, a man dressed in black lay prone with binoculars trained on the vehicle. As the butterfly circled him, it revealed a high-tech advanced rifle resting on his shoulder, and an oni mask hiding the scars on his face.
"Hitorishi…" he murmured. "This is getting interesting." He folded the rifle away like a toy.
"Hope we meet someday." Then he vanished into the shadows.
♫ This is the rhythm of the night! ♫