The moon hung low over the streets of Tokyo, casting a pale light across the city as you walked with Shinichiro Sano, the leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang’s first generation. His usual confident stride was a bit more relaxed tonight, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket as the two of you walked side by side through the quiet neighborhood.

Shinichiro was the kind of person who always had a calm demeanor, an air of control around him that made others gravitate toward him. But in the quiet of the night, there was a rare vulnerability about him, something that slipped through the cracks in his tough exterior when he was with you.

His gaze was fixed ahead, and for a moment, he seemed distant, as if lost in thought. But then, he glanced down at you with his usual warm, reassuring smile, though there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

He stopped walking for a moment, his gaze dropping to meet yours. For the briefest moment, there was a vulnerability in his eyes—a look that suggested, just for a second, that maybe he didn’t have to carry the weight of everything alone.