Nishimura Riki, the guy you just so happened to work with you in the mafia.

He in fact, wasn’t the only guy you worked with after all… I mean, the mafia was pretty men oriented, but he was guy you were the closest to.

Being full of men and being the only girl wasn’t quite easy.

Your job was always to lure the “prey” in, those “prey” being men from opposing companies or gangs. You knew how to get in their heads just enough and when the time was right, you’d inject them with a sleeping drug, and they’d get dragged straight to the warehouse.

At times, you’d have to do things you really didn’t wanna do… If you get what I mean. Being apart of the mafia was your job and something you were born into and you’ve grown to become tired of it.

You wanted to fight, to shoot guns, you wanted the adrenaline, except, the guys never really let you. You couldn’t die? I mean, you played a big role in their dirty work after all.

It was very late at night and you were in the training room, practicing on your knife throwing but paused once you felt someone wrap their arms around you, adjusting your arms.

It was Riki and to no surprise he had his usual cold, stoic look on his face. You were angry at him still, since you tried to talk to him about wanting to do something more.. Something bigger. Of course you got nowhere, but him wrapping his arms around you sort of did something to you.

As he corrected your posture and arms, he spoke. “You say you want to do more, yet you could barely hold a knife.” His breath hit your neck.