Smell of Blood(1)

"Who the hell is this?" Ren asked. His two guards stood with a red-haired girl around his age.

"Her name is Kozue. She'll be staying with you for a while per the boss' order." One of them gave a light shove to her shoulder, prompting a stumble that she quickly recovered from. Biting her lips, she maintained composure. When she turned back around, she said, "thank you for the ride," the politeness contrasting with the unsettling introduction.

"Have you eaten?"

"No," Ren replied, his eyes affixed on the girl. "Are you asking because one of you is going out?"

"Yes," the driver confirmed, "the boss asked that we get the little lady a good first meal. None of that packaged food you got in here," emphasizing the importance of a quality first meal with a nod to the surroundings.

"And what's that?"

Ren crossed his arms, his brows furrowed, exuding a contemplative demeanor. Kozue remained silent, slightly hunched over, maintaining a guarded stance. "It's a secret," The other guard said, scorned.

"Ah, then fuck off!" Ren boldly expressed his disdain. The guards scoffed and left the house, closing and locking the front door. Without hesitation, he went up to her and asked, "are you okay?" Immediate concern replacing the bold gesture.

"I-I'm fine, thank you." She hugged herself, shivering.

"Here, take a seat, please," Ren carefully walked her over to his chabudai, a short-legged table. She respectfully sat on a pillow-like object.

She remained quiet. Ren scratched the back of his head, a sense of confusion and internal turmoil evident. 'Uh, what am I supposed to do now?!' he thought, panicking. Then, she broke the silence. "Do you have-cough, have anything to drink?" she inquired, rubbing her throat as if it was dry, her concern shifting the focus from his internal turmoil to her well-being.

"O-Oh, of course!" Ren traversed through his kitchen, a moment of realization crossing his face. Then, he snapped his fingers, signaling a good idea. Holding a cup up, a nervous smile adorned his face. "Green tea?" he suggested, the offer imbued with a thoughtful and considerate demeanor.

*************

As the bikers navigated through the landscape, a meticulously crafted Japanese neighborhood unfolded—an architectural masterpiece rising against the backdrop of a rapidly changing era. Nestled amidst emerald-green rice fields and ancient cherry blossom groves, the new enclave breathed life into the landscape. Streets adorned with the artistry of sakura trees led to contemporary homes with sleek lines, forming a fusion of tradition and modernity. Each house bore the imprint of skilled carpenters and visionary architects, blending the warmth of wooden accents with the cool touch of concrete and glass. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the soft glow of paper lanterns illuminated narrow alleyways, casting a gentle luminance upon cobblestone paths. The air carried the melody of distant laughter and the sizzle of street vendors preparing takoyaki. Within the neighborhood's embrace, a sense of community blossomed, creating an idyllic scene.

One of the richest neighborhoods in all of Yokohama, and the Yamishin Syndicate owned all the property, the houses only available to rent. The bikers rode down the new streets, scaring the residents into their homes.

With Kaito leading the way, a procession of fifty bikers followed, a mere fraction of his extensive crew. The powerful revs resonated, creating an imposing spectacle. As the bikers roared through the streets, residents swiftly locked their doors and shut their blinds.

There was once peace in this neighborhood. The now adults grew up on these roads and houses, once cheering and imagining the future that awaited them. 

But that peace is no more.

"There it is. Number 249." Kaito pointed to a house.

It was nestled beneath a canopy of ancient cherry blossoms, the traditional Japanese home stood as a serene sanctuary, a testament to time-honored craftsmanship. Its low-slung roof, decorated with intricately curved eaves, embraced the structure like sheltering wings. A lattice of delicate wooden screens whispered secrets of a bygone era, their interwoven patterns casting enchanting shadows on the exterior walls. Weathered, yet gracefully maintained, the wooden facade bore the patina of countless seasons. A stone pathway meandered through a meticulously manicured garden, where moss-covered stones and bonsai trees embraced the philosophy of harmony with nature.

And as if to maintain of look of normalcy, soft glows of paper lanterns illuminated the entryway.

"I don't mean to doubt you Kaito, but is that really an empty house?" One of the bikers asked.

"Empty with people, yes. But filled to the brim with money." He revved his bike multiple times and looked back, "finders keepers' boys!!!"

"WOOOHOOO!" shouted the previous biker.

"What do we think about that boys?!" Takashi exclaimed, wildly sticking his tongue out.

The silent whir of exhausts turned into a frenzy, the air cracking from everybody revving, "LET'S GET SOME FUCKIN' MONEY! WAHOO!" Another cried.

"HAHAHA!" They all laughed. Parking their bikes, they rushed up to the house. The air filled with the shattering of windows and the splintering of doors as chaos ensued. Laughter echoed through the tumultuous scene as they playfully pushed each other, reveling in the disorder. Kaito and Takashi lingered outside, witnessing the raid on the house. Occasional sounds of breaking objects and screaming added to the chaotic atmosphere.

"So, why're you letting the boys get all the money?" Takashi pestered him. He entangled his arms and stretched, "I gotta feed the dog a bone every now and then don't you think so?"

"I see." Takashi nodded his head, continuing, "well, I don't intend on losing all the spoils. I'm going in."

"Have at it! You deserve it!" Kaito exclaimed.

Takashi took his helmet off and ran into the home through the front door.

"Hmph, truly a bunch of dogs," Kaito grinned.

*******************

"Boss!" The voice said, "The Steel Hounds raided us!"

Ryo was on the other side of a phone whilst Kyoki was at Ren's house. "Is that so? How much did they take?" He asked, shoulder on the wall as he smoked a cigarette.

"T-The thing is, they got two places. The safehouse over by the Ferris wheel and the one in the Harmony Estates." Ryo gulped, loudly, "they took around three million yen!"

'The Steel Hounds. I knew they'd cause trouble. It doesn't really matter, though. After all, once a dog gets hold of a bone, it doesn't let go.' He thought, glancing at Ren and Kozue who were engaged in a conversation and eating sashimi.

"They found out where we stashed some of our stuff, huh? Assemble some men and head to the garage at exactly twenty-oh-hundred. Understood?" He spoke, his voice crisp through the phone.

"Yes sir!"

Click!

Kyoki hung the phone back on the wall and walked over to the two kids, wiping his forehead as he did. "How do you like the place?" Kyoki questioned Kozuki.

Stormy eyes framed by a furrowed brow hinted at the tempest of revenge swirling within her, a turbulent sea of emotions held captive beneath her determined exterior. Despite the aching feeling in her heart, "It's nice. Very generous of you." She agonized, her pride stooping lower and lower.

"Mhm," Kyoki knelt down next to them, "how does it hold up against the Himura household?" He blew smoke into her face.

When the smoke dissipated, her face remained stoic, finishing her plate "I wouldn't know. I didn't spend too much time there."

"You know," Kyoki emphasized, "a part of me is saying that you're lying. Who should I listen to?"

"Doctors say you shouldn't answer to voices in your head."

He scoffed, then looked at Ren, who was drinking his green tea. "Never get tired of that shit?"

"How could I? It puts me at peace," Ren lowered his cup to show Kyoki, "you could use some."

Kyoki put his hand up and said, "no, it's not necessary."

"Oh well," he stood up and grabbed his gun holster as well as his suit jacket, draping it over his shoulders, "I guess I should leave the kids to it, then. Have fun my children."

Kozue held her own tongue. "What type of dad would keep his children locked away?!" Ren scolded, quickly drinking from his cup to cool down.

Kyoki opened the front door. Before closing it, he looked back, and said, "a father who wishes to protect his kids."

The door shut.

Ren looked over at Kozue, "how 'bout now?" He held his cup high, "trust me, it really does calm one's sense down."

"Okay, sure." She replied. Ren jumped into the air in excitement as he hopped over to the kitchen. He took their dirty dishes to the sink hurriedly, bringing another cup to the short table and sat across from her.

"Go ahead."

She picked the small cup and took a light sip. Then, after a few seconds of letting the taste settle, she nearly chugged the whole thing, a bright smile of shock on Ren's face. With the cup finished, she slammed it onto the table, as if she had been drinking sake all night.

"I asked if you wanted some green tea earlier!"

"Sorry."

Ren went back to the kitchen and brought all the green tea he had prepared. The two began drinking and conversing, and as they did, her stoic face, a portrait of restraint and guarded composure, began to undergo a subtle metamorphosis.

The rigid lines that etched her features softened incrementally, as if a gentle hand were smoothing away the seriousness that had held sway. A spark of warmth emanated from the depths of her eyes, slowly thawing the icy reserve that had concealed her emotions. The corners of her mouth, once steadfast in their neutrality, yielded to the invisible pull of a burgeoning smile. It started as a delicate curve, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the stoic facade. With each shared moment, the grip of stoicism gradually released, making way for the unburdening of joy. Finally, a genuine smile unfolded, radiant and unguarded, a testament to the transformative power of connection and the liberation of emotions long confined. 

And while their conversation was amidst, so was another one. Nearby the well-known Ferris wheel of South Yokohama was a previous Yamishin Syndicate safehouse for physical money.

"They did a fuckin' number on us." Remi walked over broken shards of glass as well as very few amounts of Yen across the room. 

"Who did this?" Hiroki stood next to her.

The metal garage, shrouded in an air of clandestine activities, stood as a fortress of illicit endeavors until the moment of reckoning arrived. The shrill echo of breaking locks shattered the oppressive silence as The Steel Hounds descended upon the covert safehouse, leaving their mark.

A sea of yen bills, like fallen leaves in a storm, blanketed the floor, a testament to the magnitude of the criminal enterprise. The cold, metallic walls bore witness to the organized chaos that unfolded within—documents hastily strewn, evidence of fraudulent transactions, and the lingering scent of endeavors undertaken in the shadows.

"Ever head of The Steel Hounds?" She asked, Hiroki nodding his head side to side, "they're a bunch of Bosozoku. They used to be farther south, but apparently, they want some of Yokohama."

Like always, Hiroki had his trusty bat with him, suggesting, "so we just gonna have to give 'em a bit of a beating, ain't that right?" He skillfully swung his bat around, the air becoming his victim, exuding confidence as he prepared for the imaginary upcoming confrontation.

"We'll have to wait for Kyo-"

"Ma'am!" One of the men said, "the boss told Ryo to gather some forces up and head to the garage. You comin' with?"

Remi smirked and looked at Hiroki, "seems your wish is going to come true."