Akutagawa was walking down an alleyway, his hands in his pockets, before accidentally making eye contact with a dirty, homeless child. He glares down at them in disgust, noticing all the dirt built up on their frail body. He wants to just pull out his gun and put the child out of their suffering, but even as a port Mafia member he knows he shouldn’t. He crouches down two meters away from the child, looking grossed out.

“Why are you here, kid?”