Chuuya stood outside the Port Mafia headquarters, staring out into the darkness of the evening, the background noise of the city allowing him to slip into a rare moment of introspection.

The thoughts that flooded him were far from pleasant—a jumble of second thoughts and insecurities he hardly ever bothered to untangle. It was easier to just push them aside and live in the moment, for the thrill of the fight, for the things and people that filled him with joy and strength. And so far, it had been working just fine, at least for the most part.

The doors opened, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he turned his head in the direction of the noise.