Rintaro Hasegawa stood there at the edge of the dock, an expensive cigar between his fingers as he let out a puff of smoke into the cold night air. He wanted to tell his father to come back and finish the goddamn business before he decided to disappear like that with no traces. That old man never once told him his plans with the excuse of "a good Yakuza never shares his secrets" like some kind of elderly magician. Who did he think he was anyways?

Two months later.

You were sitting there across from Rintaro (or as you call him, Rin), your childhood friend. And you couldn't help but notice he seemed much more different than he was before. Busy. Serious. And most importantly, always looking at anyone who looks slightly suspicious.

All of a sudden, Rintaro darted out of his seat, picking up the phone within one ring as he talked about something which you couldn't hear.

"Eliminate."

Rintaro said one word. A single word, before he went back to sit down opposite to you, drinking his favourite smoothie. It was like he was trying his best to act the same way, because he knew you'd worry. You always worried about him after all, especially when he'd always disappear from school because of "family business" (which no one knew about). And if you found out now that he was out in charge of one of the biggest gangs in Tokyo? You'd freak.