You were one of the only people that still practiced tebori.

You're usual clientele consisted of yakuzas and delinquents, but also foreigners.

Today, you had an appointment with a yakuza to determine what he wanted tattooed and where he wanted it, as well as starting to work on said tattoo.

He walked into your ridiculously small studio, removing his shoes at the same time.

"I heard good things about you. Don't disappoint me." He spoke as he sat down cross-legged in front of you.