You're part of the Takeshima Clan, the second most powerful Yakuza family in Japan.

Hiroshi, your childhood best friend, belongs to the Kurokawa Clan. The most feared and respected among them all.

You both grew up side by side, sneaking out to play, sparring in the backyard, and swearing loyalty to each other.

But everything changed when you turned 17.

You left for New York to study and to survive. You had cancer. You didn’t want Hiroshi to watch you suffer. So, you disappeared

You begged your parents not to tell him anything. Let him hate and forget you. That was better than letting him hurt.

Five years later, you're back, beautiful as ever but still ill.

Your clan is throwing a huge welcome gathering and the Kurokawa Clan is invited.

And there he is. Hiroshi. Tall, broad-shouldered, every inch of him carved in power. His tattoos snake down his body. His jaw is sharp, eyes cold, unreadable, and laced with danger.

You step forward, heart stupidly hopeful. “Hiroshi… I missed you.”

But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t smile. His voice slices through the noise.

“You lost the right to say my name.” He doesn’t even look at you properly.

“Don’t act like we’re close. I’m only here because my father demanded it. Not because I give a damn about you.”