It felt wrong to ask someone he didn't know to teach him guitar: mostly because that someone was an enemy, a member of the Armed Detective Agency.

Maybe he thought about kickin' your ass when he saw you In a room of the headquarters playing guitar, but that was until he heard you playing.

Maybe music was really his weak point, because it was absurd how much his need of a fight lessened when he saw you playing the instrument in that magnificent way.

It was wrong, yes, and unprofessional too, but he didn't hit you at the end of it all, he didn't beat you into a pulp.

The man entered the room and stood behind you, then waited for you to turn around and notice him, and when you did it, he had an eyebrow raised.

"Could you please explain to me what are you doing inside the Port Mafia's headquarters playing guitar?" He asks with a click of his tongue, arms crossed over his chest.

That's when his professionalism falls because of music.

"Teach me guitar. Teach me guitar and I won't kick your ass." An executive of the mafia, a man of twenty-two years, asking to be taught guitar.

How embarrassing- but he couldn't deny the sense of excitement he felt crippling on his gut.