014

It was just another day in the Port Mafia.

Well, that’s what you told yourself, stretching your arms behind your head with a soft hum as you walked down the corridor of the underground base.

Another day, another mission.

Except this time, something was a little different.

You had been paired with Koyo Ozaki.

An executive. Not someone you typically worked with.

She was already waiting at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, gaze sharp and unreadable.

Her traditional kimono fluttered lightly with her movements, elegant and calm.

Her hair shimmered faintly under the ceiling lights, and her expression was as composed as ever.

Serene, but unapproachable.

You stopped a short distance from her and tilted your head, offering her a soft smile laced with curiosity.

"Koyo-san, do you have any idea why we got paired together on this mission?" you asked, voice sweet, almost playful. Your eyes sparkled with false innocence, a tilt to your posture designed to disarm.

She barely glanced at you.

"Who knows what the boss is thinking," she replied coolly.

You blinked at her, then chuckled softly.

"What do we have to do again? I forgot," you added, feigning sheepishness.

It was more of a test than a real question. Koyo's personality intrigued you.

"We're to negotiate with the Kirin-kai group. Boss man believes it would be beneficial to have them as allies," she said, voice clipped, efficient.

"They control certain smuggling routes we can use."

"Mmm..." you tapped your bottom lip with a finger thoughtfully.

"And if we fail?"

Koyo’s eyes flickered to you. "Then we eliminate them. They're either an ally or a threat."

A grin bloomed across your face.

Not just any grin. A slow, eerie curve that lingered too long.

"Koyo-san," you chirped.

"I like you a lot. Do you think I’ll get in trouble for trying to seduce you?"

She gave you a side glance, unamused. "Yes."

You laughed, delighted by her directness.

The meeting location was a high-rise building on the east end of Yokohama.

You arrived together, Koyo’s posture proud and elegant, yours relaxed and oddly carefree.

The Kirin-kai's representative was already there, surrounded by a few guards.

He wore a smug grin, legs crossed arrogantly, fingers playing with the rim of his wine glass.

Cocky. How boring. But, easy to manipulate.

You stood slightly behind Koyo, watching like a shadow. A smile flickered briefly across your face, then vanished.

"We appreciate your hospitality," Koyo began.

"The Port Mafia is prepared to offer logistical assistance in exchange for your support. Our boss believes this alliance will benefit both sides."

The man barely listened. He sipped his wine, waved a hand dismissively.

"I’m sure he does. But frankly, I think we’re doing just fine without the Port Mafia breathing down our necks."

You narrowed your eyes faintly.

Koyo rose slowly from her seat. "If you’re not interested, we’ll conclude this meeting here."

She lifted a hand slightly, signal enough for her subordinates to begin reaching for their weapons.

You stepped forward.

"Wait," you said sweetly.

Koyo paused. Her eyes flicked to you, curious.

The room stilled.

You turned to the man and offered a smile. Charming, boyish, harmless.

"I don’t think you understand. This isn’t really a negotiation. It’s more of an invitation. And it’d be very, very rude to decline."

The man scoffed, visibly dismissive.

"What’s a kid like you going to do, exactly? Cry at me?"

You took a slow step closer.

Your expression didn’t change.

But your eyes did.

Whatever softness was there before vanished, replaced with a darkness that didn’t seem quite human.

Something cold, unblinking, wrong.

Your smile widened, but the warmth never reached your eyes.

"You know," you said softly, stepping closer again.

"I’ve always been curious about the sound a man makes when his spine is removed through his mouth."

The man blinked. His bravado faltered slightly.

You tilted your head, voice still gentle. "I could find out."

Your aura shifted. Dense, heavy, like pressure before a storm. Even the guards hesitated.

Koyo’s brow twitched. A single bead of sweat rolled down her cheek.

"So here’s what’s going to happen," you continued, tone never rising.

"You’re going to accept the offer. You’ll tell your boss it’s the best deal you’ve ever been offered. You’ll smile when you say it. And you’ll mean it. Because if you don’t..."

You leaned in, nose almost touching his.

"I’ll make sure you die believing you made the worst choice of your life."

Silence.

The man gulped. He nodded, slowly, voice cracking.

"...I’ll accept. I’ll talk to the boss."

You beamed.

"Thank you so much!" you chirped, reaching out and dragging your fingers lightly down his hand.

You let your thumb glide across his knuckles.

He coughed, and pulled his hand back quickly. "It’s... it’s nothing."

Behind you, Koyo watched with unreadable eyes. Another bead of sweat formed at her temple.

You offered one last smile, predatory and satisfied, before turning on your heel.

The walk back was quiet.

You didn’t teleport away. That would’ve been too easy. No, you stayed close to Koyo, half skipping beside her, hands tucked behind your back.

"Koyo-san," you started, voice bright.

"Have you always been this cool? You looked so elegant holding your fan like that. I think I’d die if you stepped on me."

"Don’t be ridiculous," she muttered.

"But I’m serious!" you insisted, eyes wide and sparkling.

"Do you think I should start wearing a yukata? We could match. Oh! Or maybe you could help me pick one out. Something dark, something dramatic! Maybe blood red. What do you think?"

She didn’t answer.

You giggled.

"Koyo-san, are you scared of me?"

She stopped walking briefly.

You stopped too, turning to face her.

She met your gaze, unreadable. "You’re unpredictable. That’s more dangerous than fear."

Your grin returned, smaller this time, but no less sharp.

"You’re fun," you said. "We should do this more often."

Koyo looked away. "Let’s hope not."

But she said it with no real heat.

You both walked on in silence, your steps light and playful, hers calm and steady.

But under her composed mask, Koyo Ozaki had made one quiet, irrefutable observation.

You weren’t just a Port Mafia operative.

You were a storm in the shape of a boy.

And the longer you stayed quiet, the louder that storm became.