Love of a Lifetime

“Yes.” Majima approached Kiryu, smacking the quirt on Kiryu's
exposed pec. “I was foolish to let Sagawa get one on me like that. I
must be getting soft. I need you to put me in my place, Kiryu-chan.”

Kiryu, with a very confused erection, thought it over. He finished
unbuttoning his tux and threw it to the side. Carefully, he undid his
belt and slid it from its loops. “You promise to tap out when you've
had enough?” he said.

“I promise,” Majima swore gleefully. Before Kiryu disposed of the
belt, Majima swiped it and wrapped the leather around the back of
Kiryu's neck, pulling him inward. “Promise me you won't go easy?”

That got Kiryu to smile. “I never do.”
Whump! Kiryu sent his knee straight into Majima's solar plexus,
nearly barreling him over. As he regained his footing, Kiryu put some
space between them and put up his hands. Majima laughed like a
giddy school girl and threw off his tux, revealing the glistening
irezume beneath. “Yes,” he breathed. “Let's do this!”
And so, they fought. As promised, Kiryu didn't go easy on Majima.
They exchanged blows nearly one for one, focusing mostly on the
stomach and chest area. They stopped going for each other's face
sometime around the start of them dating. But that didn't make the
fights any less brutal.
Majima, despite being more sluggish than usual on so much
booze, still duck and wove like a pro, while Kiryu withstood Majima's
onslaught as if he was a mountain. At some point while trading taps,
Majima managed to get a lucky leg sweep on Kiryu, sending him

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flailing. Hurrying to the box of toys, Majima yanked out the waxed,
pink rope and unspoolled it. When Kiryu managed to get back on his
feet, Majima baited a blow and caught his wrist instead with the
rope, tying it off and leaping over Kiryu's shoulder.

Now behind the brute, Majima tugged, nearly toppling Kiryu over.
But ever the monolith, Kiryu locked up his arm, keeping it in the air.
In a sudden move, he spiraled out from under the rope, managing to
take hold of it instead. With every hit that came after, Kiryu managed
to lasso Majima tighter and tighter on each arm, until finally, he
managed to get the rope all the way behind Majima and pull.

Majima gasped as his arms shot out behind him, going stiff. Kiryu
tied them off and then grabbed a hold of Majima's shoulders. With
astounding strength, he hurled Majima across the room. Majima
crashed into the headboard of the bed, nearly shattering it. Kiryu
swiped up the riding crop and approached. Majima waited until he
was just inches from the bed, and he kicked. One landed flat against
Kiryu's chest, but there was no stopping the brick wall that was Kiryu
Kazuma. Managing to get in between Majima's kicking legs, he held
up the crop and pinned him down by his chest. “You give up?” he
asked.

Majima only grinned wider. Rather than fight, he hoisted his hips,
grinding his ass against the bulge in Kiryu's pants. It was enough to
give Kiryu pause, as his desires overrode his fighting prowess. It was
long enough for Majima to lock his legs tight behind Kiryu's waist,
and using his entire body's momentum, managed to flip them over.

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Hands tied behind his back, Majima managed to pin Kiryu down
to the bed by his waist. When Kiryu blinked the stars away, he saw
Majima in full. His pants had come undone, and his penis, already
beading at the tip, was just barely peaking out from behind the
zipper. After all, Majima didn't like wearing underwear.

His next move wasn't to continue to fight. Instead, he began to
roll his hips. As he did so, Kiryu's pants got tighter and tighter.
Majima watched the desire in Kiryu's eyes start to light up. His thin
body coiled above Kiryu like a snake. The friction between them was
starting to fog over Kiryu's expression. Finally, Kiryu was at his limit.

Kiryu grabbed Majima and turned them back around. He yanked
off Majima's pants in one clean sweep. After which, he started
unbuckling his own. Majima arched his back, watching with hunger
as Kiryu unveiled his body.

“Don't let it end,” Majima pleaded. “I want to be owned by Kiryu-
chan.” Kiryu's eyes snapped up. The crop was still in his hand. Finally
throwing off his pants, Kiryu looked over Majima, his eyes carving
into every detail. “Do you claim me...? Dragon of Dojima...”

“Shut up.” It was the harshest thing Kiryu had ever said in the
bedroom. It took Majima by surprise.

“Kiryu...”
Slap. Majima gasped as the quirt hit the side of his leg. Kiryu let
the leather linger before trailing it down the inside of Majima's thigh.
Majima trembled. “I should have killed him when I saw him on you...”
he whispered. He smacked the crop against Majima's stomach,

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making Majima flinch. Kiryu bent over Majima, holding it up to his
lips. “How dare you let him touch you, Majima-san?”

Majima's eye widened, and his confusion was quickly turned over
by delight. “Kiryu-chan...” Kiryu played the part wonderfully, and it
made Majima's stomach boil over in excitement.

Majima bit at the quirt, grinding his teeth into the leather. Kiryu
ripped it out of his mouth and smacked his thigh again. Finally tossing
it aside, Kiryu located the complementary bottle of lubricant on the
bedside table. He squirted a mess of it onto his fingers and dove his
hand down between Majima's cheeks. Majima practically purred, his
back arching in delight. As Kiryu prepped him, he dove down and bit
into Majima's chest. Every bite left a beautiful kiss of red and purple.
Some bites even tore into Majima's skin. Majima moaned outright.

Finally, Majima was ready. Kiryu braced himself against Majima,
grabbing onto his knees. He started sliding in. “A—ah!” Majima cried
out in pleasure, his head tilting back into the pillows. “K-Kiryu-chan!”

“No one owns this...” Kiryu muttered. “No one owns you but me.”
Hoisting Majima's hips a little higher, he started going in from a
deeper angle. Soon enough, Kiryu was thrusting so hard, the bed
itself was skidding with every sway. Majima let his reservations leave
him, and he cried out with every new thrust. All the while, Kiryu did
exactly what Majima needed. He pulled his hair, scratched his legs,
hell, he even slapped him around a little. With every new position,
Kiryu found a different way to leave budding bruises on Majima's
body. Majima would treasure each one until they vanished.

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By the time they were at their peek, Majima was plastered up
against the headboard, his knees digging into the pillows. Kiryu was
ramming him from behind, his breath escaping him like a bull's.
Majima's body was squished, and totally beyond his control. Kiryu
had gone on for so long, and with such vigor, that Majima was like
putty in his hands. Majima was sure he'd already come once or twice,
but Kiryu simply wouldn't let up, making his orgasm a long link in a
delicious chain of violent pleasure. With Kiryu's hand firmly on the
back of Majima's neck, Kiryu gave it his all. And then, finally–

“Agh!” Kiryu curled forward and went stiff, digging in as far as he
could go. Majima felt Kiryu's seed pump itself into Majima's body.
They stayed that way for an endless moment, before finally both
collapsing down onto the bed. They were sweaty, physically tapped,
exhausted, and had burned through their drunkenness with ease.

Once they were able to move again, Kiryu undid the ropes around
Majima's wrists. There were some pretty indents there, probably
ones that would bruise beautifully over time. Taking Majima into his
sweaty arms, Kiryu hoisted them up to the pillows and laid them
down, comfortably. He started to kiss Majima up and down. That
kindness Majima had fallen for was in every lingering connection. It
made Majima smile, and his body curled further into Kiryu's grasp.

“How are you?” Kiryu asked. “Do you hurt?”
“Yeah,” said Majima. “Thanks. I love it.” Kiryu laid a lingering kiss
on Majima's crown. Despite the mind-blowing sex, Majima could

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sense unease in Kiryu. He laid his flimsy hands on Kiryu's thick chest.
“Kiryu-chan...?”

“I'm sorry.”
Majima blinked. He forced himself to sit up and stared down at
Kiryu. “Hey. About what?” Kiryu's eyes were closed. There was grief
there.
“I didn't protect you,” he said quietly. “I should have been
watching that scumbag the minute you left my side. Instead, I let you
walk into danger without me.”
Majima's heart clenched. He tried laughing it off, but it came out
uneasy and uncertain. “H-hey.” Majima curled down with Kiryu,
stroking the hair from his face. “Come on, don't get yourself down. I
was taking a piss. What, are you supposed to follow me everywhere
or something?” Kiryu didn't have an answer. Majima gently stroked
his hair. “Kiryu-chan–”
“Was that what Sagawa was like?” Kiryu finally opened his eyes
and looked at Majima, dead on. “Would he... force you like that?”
Majima sighed. He laid on his back and threaded his fingers over
his heart. “No,” he said. “He had power over me, but I never did
anything I didn't... want to.” Ok, that answer was a little more
complicated than he'd like it to be.
“That kid has his uncle's balls, but not his tact. Sagawa-san never
needed to force me into bed with him. He would buy my time. And
I'd sell it to him.” He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling a shiver
come on as his sweat cooled off. “He's probably why I like half the

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shit I do. Fucked up, right?” Kiryu didn't have an answer for that.
Instead, he wrapped his arms tighter around Majima's body, and the
two of them lingered until sleep overcame them.

A week passed, and neither man heard anything from The Grand,
good or bad. Most likely, Sagawa hadn't reported Kiryu to the
authorities. Or if he had, he decided not to press charges. With his
little vacation over, Majima threw himself into his work. After all,
there were always more businesses to shake down. Come that Friday,
Majima returned from a standard run when he noticed a package on
his desk. It was small, and wrapped with plain, brown paper. Majima
turned to one of his men.

“That come for me while I was out?” he asked.
“Yes, Aniki,” the underling said, bowing.
Majima handed the underling a bloodied brief case. “Make sure
this gets deposited into the family fund.”
“Right away, sir.”
When the underling left, Majima headed to his desk, removing
his gloves as he went. His knuckles were a little worse for ware.
Those arms resellers were stubborn bastards, but Majima always got
the buy price he needed with a little persuasion. Having a seat, he
first poured himself a drink and then examined the package.
No return address, but the postage was stamped out of Osaka.
He sipped his whiskey, staring at it. It was barely the size of a small
notebook. He picked it up. It didn't have the weight of a weapon. No
gun or knife was this light. He set his drink aside and unwrapped it. It

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opened easily. What fell out were two things: a hand written note,
and a dog collar. On the collar was a tag which read: “Majima-chan.”
Majima stalled. It was a fine collar. Studded with diamonds and real
leather. Probably had a pretty big price tag. He set it aside and held
up the note. It had no signature, and the handwriting was
immaculate.

For when the puppy dog wants a new master.

Majima stared at the gift in silence. The absolute audacity of that
bitch. In a fit of anger, Majima stood to his feet and swiped the collar
in one hand. He was ready to hurl it out the window, when he
paused. Something stopped him. He didn't know what it was. Or at
least... he didn't want to admit to it. His hand shook and he finally
lowered the collar to stare at it. In the silver tag, he saw his own
reflection.

Sitting back down, Majima opened the drawer to his left, threw
the collar inside, and slammed it shut.

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Chapter 2: lonely

There was something so musical about the echo of a nice, empty
warehouse. With nothing else to impede it, it was the perfect stage
for the delightful sounds of cracking bone or blood hitting the naked
floors. It was like torture acoustics. And currently, an old storeroom
in Kumarocho was serving that very purpose.

In the center of the empty, concrete slab of space sat a man in a
chair, bound and bleeding. Three men in varying degrees of gangster
fashion stood around him, taking turns tenderizing the poor guy's
face. The victim in question was barely in his forties, but already his
hair was thinning, and his belly had peeked over his bargain bin khaki
pants. Clearly, this wasn't exactly a high priority kidnapping.

One of the yakuza, a round faced, broad shouldered gent named
Tsubashi, leaned forward on his knees, burning his tiny eyes into the
guy's terrified face. “You wanna save yourself some trouble before
the boss gets here?” he said.

The man wriggled in his binds. “I'm telling the truth!” he howled.
“Please, I don't know where he went! I promise I'm not protecting
him!” The yakuza laughed, Tsubashi making sure to laugh extra hard
in the poor guy's face. The man was on the brink of tears.

Clink. Clink. Scchhhhhh—clink.
A metallic, hallow sound grated against the concrete just outside
the door to the storeroom. The three gangsters looked up in delight

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while the last bit of hope drained from the bound man's face. A swift
kick thrust the door open, and in walked a male figure, an aluminum
bat dragging along side his steel toed boots. The bound man's face
fell, and his eyes bulged from his head. “M...Majima Goro...”

“Good morning!” Majima cooed, balancing his bat onto his
shoulder. He took his sweet time walking forward, and the other
yakuza stood aside with respectful bows. Majima barely
acknowledged their presence. Once he got to the man in the chair,
he took the bat from his shoulder and let it bounce off the sole of his
shoe. “Soooo.” Majima laid the cold metal on the man's cheek,
making him shiver with terror. “You gonna tell us where that rat
scuttled of to? Or what?”

The bludgeoned man gaped, his face awash with snot and drool.
“I-I-I–!”

“You, you, you?”
“I don't know where he is!” the man finally spat out. “Please! I
swear to you I have no idea! After he got a call from you, he skipped
town! I have no idea where!”
“Aaaaah?” Majima bent forward, getting within an inch of the
guy's personal space. “Well ain't that rude? What kinda brother
doesn't give a ring when they decide to skip town and saddle his
family with debt collectors?” Majima stood up straight and spun the
bat in the air, catching it effortlessly. “What a weasel. Then again, for
a guy peddling drugs from the continent, I guess I'm not surprised.”

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By now, the man in the chair was choking on his sobs, and had given
up entirely on trying to escape from his rope.

“You have to believe me,” he whimpered. “I'm telling the truth.”
Majima let his eye linger on the man for a moment. The silence
stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Majima spun
around and shrugged, bat back on his shoulder. “All right. I believe
you.”
The man snapped his head up in shock. In his eyes was a spark of
hope. “Y-you do?”
“Sure,” said Majima, back still turned. “You don't know, you don't
know. You ain't gonna magically figure it out if I beat your brains in.”
The man inched forward. “S-so... you'll let me go...?”
A toothy grin spread across Majima's face. As his men chuckled,
the kidnappee fell into despair. Majima cocked his head over his
shoulder, one eye twinkling madly. “Nah.”
Wham! The bat made contact with enough force to send the man
flying to one side, the chair going down with him. With utter glee,
Majima began pummeling the guy with reckless abandon. Blood,
teeth and spit flew like ocean spray, staining Majima's naked chest
beneath his jacket. His laughter was the only thing that overpowered
the cacophonous symphony of breaking bones and splitting skin. And
then, when Majima had had his fill of fun, he stood up straight and
admired the pretty red stains on his bat. He eyed the man at his feet,
who was little more than a tenderized steak at this point. Majima
nudged him with a boot.

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“Yo. You still alive down there?” The man moaned in response,
which satisfied Majima. Majima crouched in front of him, making
sure he was in the sights of the dude's remaining good eye. “Great.
Then here's your homework. You get a message to that cum tissue
that if he doesn't come up with what he owes, he can spend the
money on your reconstructive surgery instead. You got a week to find
him. So I suggest you get started.” Majima tapped the bat to his boot
casually, spun around, and walked off. Tsubashi held the door open
for him while the other two righted the guy's chair back upright.

“Good work, Boss,” said Tsubashi. “He'll crack in no time.”
“We don't need the fucker to 'crack,'” said Majima. “We need
him to send a text.” Majima dug into his jacket and pulled out his
pack of smokes. Before one was even in his mouth, Tsubashi held up
a lit lighter for Majima's use. He lit the cigarette and sighed in
satisfaction. “Tell you what. A good ass beating leaves me all nice and
fuzzy inside, don't you agree?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“It's like a nice fuck...” Not that Majima was getting that these
days. The thought made his face sour, though he turned away from
Tsubashi to keep it hidden. That was when the doorway down the
hall opened wide, and Nishida hurried in with a plastic bag. Majima's
face split into delight and he threw his cigarette aside, nearly hitting
Tshubashi in the face. “Nishida! You got my order?”
“Yes, just what you wanted.” Nishida handed Majima the bag,
and the patriarch greedily yanked out its contents. Inside was an

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extra large, fruit flavored boba, with rainbow jelly and extra ice. The
colorful cartoon mascot smiled innocently from the side of the cup.
Majima tore open the straw and stabbed the lid like an excited child,
after which he took a huge gulp and sighed with satisfaction.

“Ahhh. The perfect way to take the edge off.” Majima was going in
for another sip when his phone rang. He pulled it out and checked
the number. The ID on the front screen read: Chibi Dragon. Majima
lit up like a firework and answered quickly. “Kiryu-chan!” he
squealed.

“Yo,” came Kiryu's voice from the other line. “Just calling to check
up on you.”

“Aaaaah, Kiryu-chan, you're too good to me.” Ignoring his men
entirely, Majima headed to the stairs which lead to his family office
above them. “Though I was starting to get worried that you forgot
about me all together. You really know how to string a guy out.”

“I'm sorry,” said Kiryu. “Things have been crazy over here. We're
still not done fully transitioning the property into my name.”

“Seriously?” As Majima walked to his office, his underlings bowed
in respect. They might has well have been part of the decor. “The
fuck's taking so long? You've been there for like three months
already.”

“A lot of red tape,” Kiryu explained. “But it's been worth it.
Haruka loves it here.”

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“Oh?” Majima smiled as he opened the door to his office, kicking
it shut behind him. “Good to hear the princess is getting on. How are
the other kiddos? How many you got now? A hundred? Two?”

“Seven so far, including Haruka. Though I've got my eye on a
couple of others who are floating around foster homes. I should have
some space for them.”

Majima flopped into his squishy, leather chair and put his boots
up on his desk, leisurely. Leaning back, he took a big drink of his boba
and smacked his lips. “I swear, you're too good a man, Kiryu-chan.
Pisses me off sometimes, y'know?”

Again, that got Kiryu to chuckle. Majima's smile softened as he
heard it. He missed that deep voice almost as much as he missed the
rest of Kiryu. And there was a lot to miss. “I still think you give me too
much credit,” he said.

“And you don't give yourself enough!” Majima declared. “If I had
to move to an island to take care of a bunch of brats I'd shoot myself
in the head.”

“I don't believe that,” said Kiryu. “In fact, I think you'd melt every
time you saw them smile.”

Majima snorted. “Oy, oy. Just cause I'm a teddy bear with you
don't mean I'm all gooey on the inside for everyone else.”

“That doesn't sound like a denial to me.”
It wasn't, really, but Majima wouldn't give Kiryu the satisfaction.
Pulling his feet off the desk, Majima leaned forward, picking at the
plastic lid of his boba. “Hey, Kiryu-chan...” His voice was sober, and

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his head was heavy. So heavy that he struggled to find the next
words.

“Yeah?” said Kiryu. “What's up, Majima-san?”
Majima's chest clenched. Everything he wanted to say was
bundled up in his heart, and refused to be let go. His throat clogged
up, and Majima closed his eye. “I...” His mouth went dry and he
cleared his throat. “Can you send me some chinsuko?”
“Huh? You want me to mail you cookies?”
“Well you can only get them in Okinawa,” Majima argued.
Despite his insistence, he felt disappointment balloon in his gut. “I
heard they're great with... I dunno, rum or something.”
Kiryu paused on the other line. “Is that all?”
No. “Yeah, that's all.”
Again, Kiryu hesitated. “Ok. I'll send some out the next time I go
into town.”
Majima's heart sank. “Great,” he said. “I'm looking forward to it.”
Majima closed his eye and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well I... I
got a lot on my plate today. Send me a text or something wouldjya?”
“Sure.”
Once more, Majima's words seemed to catch in his throat. He
tried swallowing the knot, but it was no use. “You take care of
yourself out there,” he muttered. “Eat your greens and... and all that
shit. And don't be too hard on them kids.”
“Yeah.” A pause. “Majima-san...”
“Yeah?”

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“Be safe... Ok?”
Majima smiled, bitterly. “Always am.”
“Right. Haruka's calling me to help with dinner. Ja ne.”
“Ja.”
Majima snapped his phone closed and pressed it to his forehead.
“Fucking pathetic...” His shoulders hunched, and he sighed deeply.
The fearsome Mad Dog Majima couldn't even tell his boyfriend how
much he missed him. It wasn't like Okinawa was on the other side of
the world, but with the responsibility of keeping Dojima Daigo's back
free of knives, Majima's time was pretty much spent.
Majima tapped his phone against his brow. Maybe he should text
how he felt? No, that would be way too impersonal. He toyed with
his wide, pink boba straw with a limp finger. Not even rainbow jelly
helped his stupid depression.
“Fuck it. Time to day drink.” He opened his drawer and started
rooting around for the emergency vodka he kept tucked away at all
times. As he rummaged, his fingers tapped something that jingled.
Majima paused. Slowly, he removed, not his bottle of Skyy, but a strip
of leather. A strip of leather studded with diamonds and tagged with
a silver name plate, inscribed with his own moniker. Majima stared at
it, his gut in knots for different reasons now.
It'd been months since he'd heard from Sagawa Akito. With Kiryu
moving off the mainland, he hadn't had time to worry about the little
fucker, and for a while, he almost forgot about that fateful meeting at
The Grand. Perhaps Sagawa had given up on the idea of whisking

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Majima away for his own nefarious purposes. Majima turned the
collar over in his hands, staring at the twinkling sunlight against the
gemstones.

Majima glanced up at the door. No sounds came from the other
side. His boys were probably busy looking for their accounts payable.
Majima nibbled at his lip. It'd been months since he'd gotten
anything. On top of Kiryu leaving, Majima didn't even have the time
to enjoy himself, he was so weighed down with Tojo responsibilities.
Majima hated the fucking ball and chain, but there he was, agreeing
to wear it for Kiryu's sake.

Majima held the collar up and took in its smell. Yeah, that was
some real fine leather. His neck thumped in desire, and again,
Majima looked up at the office door. With his heart pounding in his
ears, Majima opened the clasp of the collar, turned it around, and
attached it to his neck.

It fit perfectly. The pressure against his esophagus gave him a
gentle thrill as he tightened the strap behind his head. The cold metal
kissed his clavicle, and he closed his eye, enjoying the feeling.
Pinching the end of the collar strap, he tugged a little tighter. A
hungry little desire started fanning itself in his pants as his breath
strained. He leaned his head forward and tightened it a little more.
Fuck it felt nice.

His dick started thumping under his leather pants, but he didn't
reach for it. A little, sadistic voice warned him not to. Inside his
boots, Majima's toes curled, and his hips gave a little jolt. He

217

tightened the collar even more and gasped out. Fuck. This felt good.
His mouth gaped as air had a harder time reaching his lungs. His head
was starting to get light. Leaning into his desk with his elbows, his
cock shoved into those tight, leather pants, making him all the more
horny.

Knock knock knock. “Hey boss?”
A great clatter broke the silence as Majima collapsed frantically
behind his desk. With panicked hands, he yanked off the dog collar
and poked his head up, making it the only thing visible as Nishida
poked in through the door.
“What!?” Majima demanded, his eye bulging from his head.
Nishida balked. Majima wasn't sure just how much he'd seen, if
anything at all, but it was clear as day that he was interrupting
something. “Er... we got some... um...”
“Spit it out you mousy fuck!” Majima demanded.
Nishida stood sharply and bowed his head. “Right!” Walking in,
he pulled out an envelope from his pocket. Quickly, Majima shoved
the collar in his pocket and stood. Nishida handed Majima the
envelope, and Majima dumped its contents onto the desk. A
collection of Polaroids flopped face up in front of him. Majima
blinked and picked one up and took a look. It's subject was that of a
homeless man, camped out underneath a blue tarp on a cell phone.
“Is this...?”
“We think so,” said Nishida.
Majima looked up. “Who sent these?”

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“Don't know,” said Nishida. “They just arrived in the mail, and
they have no return address. I think someone personally dropped
them off.”

Majima found a close up photograph of the homeless man and
held it up to the light. “And we're sure about this? This is the guy?”

“Yeah. His brother confirmed it.”
“Where were these taken?”
“Well, there's no letter or anything,” said Nishida. “But look.” He
picked up one of the photos and pointed at the background. “I'd
recognize that building anywhere.” Of course he would. And so did
Majima. Plainly put, they built the fucking thing.
“Sly little bastard.” Majima almost sounded impressed. He
plucked the photo from Nishida's hand and shook his head. “Fucker
never skipped town at all. He's been hiding in plain sight. Just
another squatter in the unfinished Kamurocho Hills.”
“Yes, sir.”
Within a few minutes, Majima was out the door with a handful of
his best. The old Purgatory lot was quiet these days, with the
looming, half-finished construction projects interrupting the skyline.
They headed through the bathroom entrance and came out the
other side just as the setting sun was breaking through the
scaffolding. The high walls did well to muffle the sound of the city
around them, like its own little bubble of reality.
Majima stepped into the center of the lot and looked around.
Since the Kamurocho Hills project was scrapped, a lot of the

219

homeless had moved back into their old spaces, and took up
residence in the hodgepodge of half built structures. No doubt it was
on the invite of The Florist.

Fiddling with his tanto knife, Majima scraped the metal of his toe
against the gravel. “Yooo-hooo~!” Majima sang. “Sakamoto-san!” He
spun as he walked, surveying the area. “Your little brother misses
you, you little ass wipe!” Majima unsheathed his tanto and twirled it
in his fingers, letting the sunlight glint off its blade. “I would hate to
have to send him to you, piece by piece! But hey, I got the time if
that's what you're into!”

Nishida suddenly tugged at Majima's arm. He spun around and
saw what his captain was pointing at. There was their man, one
Sakamoto Kai, bound and gagged and hanging upside down off a
steel girder. Judging from those pretty bruises on his red face, he'd
been knocked around a little. Majima approached and sliced the rope
that tied his feet, sending him to the ground with an unflattering
“whump!” As he wriggled on the ground, Majima knelt down in front
of Sakamoto, head tilted aside.

“The fuck is this?” he asked, almost to himself. “Some asshole
went and gift wrapped the fucker up without even letting me have
my fun.” He put a hand on his hip and gestured at his men with his
knife. “All right. Which one of you decided to surprise me?”

“That would be me, Majima-chan.” A familiar voice rattled
Majima down to his core. Dropping his playful air, he whipped
around to see none other than Sagawa Akito standing leisurely

220

underneath half a roof. He wore a business-casual pair of brown
slacks, with a matching coat over his elbow. His shirt sleeves were
rolled up half way, and resting next to his heel was a particularly
nasty looking sledge hammer. Sagawa leaned his head against the
pillar behind him and smiled through the smoke of his cigarette.
“Surprised?”

Majima glared. In his coat pocket, he could hear a faint jingle, and
he realized with horror that he still had the damn collar on him.
Majima turned to his men and gestured at Sakamoto. “Get him to the
office. I want every yen squeezed out of this fucker's bank account by
sunup.”

“Yes boss,” the men said. Collectively, they pulled Sakamoto to his
feet and dragged him back to the entrance. Which just left Majima
and Sagawa alone together. Sagawa pushed himself from the pillar
and walked casually to Majima's side, smoking. Majima took note of
his bloodied and bruised knuckles.

“So?” said Sagawa.
“So,” Majima repeated.
“You gonna thank me or what, Majima-chan?”
“Thank you?” Majima spat. “I oughta knock your fucking skull in.
You took away the best part of my day you asshole.” Majima walked
over to his discarded tanto sheath and closed it. “Now what am I
going to do for the rest of my night? Fucking sleep?”
Sagawa finished his cigarette and snubbed it out. “I was thinking
going out for drinks.”

221

“Hard pass.”
Sagawa tilted his head. “What? You don't trust me?”
“Bingo.”
“Mm.” Sagawa ran his forefinger along his lower lip. “I don't think
that's it.” His smile widened. “I think you're scared to be alone with
me now that your boy toy is out of Tokyo.” Majima flared, and
Sagawa chuckled. “Where is the monster, anyway? It's not like he's
glued to your hip or anything, but I was surprised to hear he left you
behind for greener pastures.”
“It's none of your fuckin' business where Kiryu-chan is,” said
Majima. “Now if we're done here, I have to go do some big boy
business–”
Majima turned to make his dramatic exit, when the absolute
worst case scenario unfolded. As Majima turned, his jacket flew out
around him. The centrifugal force of his spin knocked his pockets
around, and thus, the diamond dog collar flew from its hiding spot
and fell to the dirt between them. Majima froze where he stood.
With abject horror, he watched as Sagawa scooped the dog collar up
and held it in the sunlight.
“Well now.” His eyes glittered. “What a pleasant surprise. You
planning to use this for something later, Majima-chan?”
“Yeah,” Majima snapped. “I figure these hobos needed some
more kindling.”
Sagawa clicked his tongue. “Now that isn't very kind.”
“I'm not kind.”

222

“I disagree.”
“I don't give a shit.”
A long pause lingered between them. Sagawa toyed with the tag
on the dog collar, all the while never taking his eyes off Majima.
Majima, in turn, refused to pull his own away. A game of emotional
chicken.
Finally, Sagawa held it up for Majima to take. “This was
expensive,” he said. “You should take care of it.” Majima lingered,
staring at the collar for a moment, before finally swiping it from
Sagawa's hand and shoving it into his jacket.
“Look,” Sagawa continued. “I didn't just come here to catch your
man for you. I came to apologize, Majima-chan.” Majima blinked, and
so Sagawa elaborated. “That night at The Grand, it was wrong. Seeing
you for the first time in so many years... You got to admit, it was
impressive I kept my composure for that long.”
“Yeah, this ain't sounding like much of a 'sorry,'” Majima snarked.
Sagawa considered that. “You're right.” He put his hands to his
sides and bowed humbly. “I am very sorry for attacking you like that. I
was drunk and jealous at the time, and while it doesn't excuse my
actions, know that I'll be careful not to lose control of myself again.
You have my word.”
Majima felt a twinge of embarrassment. He snorted, stuffing his
dagger into the inside breast pocket of his jacket. “Stand up straight.
You're humiliating yourself.” Majima tried to casually turn away, even
though his neck was burning. “So you got a little drunk and a little

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handsy. Ain't the end of the world.” Majima glared over his shoulder.
“Though if Kiryu-chan hadn't stepped in, I would have slit your
fucking throat. I hope you know that.”

“I do.”
“Mm.” Majima turned back and started walking towards the exit.
Sagawa, much to Majima's frustration, went the same way.
“Why don't you let me buy you a drink?” Sagawa pressed. “As a
further apology.”
Majima sneered. “You jumped my ass because you said you were
drunk, and now you want to drink more?”
“I won't have a drop,” Sagawa swore. “It's totally my treat. We'll
go wherever you want.”
Majima stopped walking and stared. “You're real serious about
this, ain'tchya?”
Sagawa nodded. “I am,” he said. “You mean a lot to me, Majima-
chan. I couldn't possibly leave things as they were.”
Couldn't leave things, huh? A sour thought came to mind. The
memory of Kiryu leaving that roof top of the Millennium Tower. No
tearful goodbye, no regret. It burned Majima's insides but he shoved
it away. Majima sighed, tapping his thigh in thought. “Fine.” He
turned to Sagawa and held up a finger. “I will have one–one–drink
with you. You get me?”
Sagawa's smile widened. “I get you. Come on. Let's make that
drink count.” Flinging his jacket over his shoulder, Sagawa lead
Majima out of the lot and into the street, where he hailed them a

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taxi. Despite leaving the choice open to Majima, the patriarch didn't
have any particular places that came to mind. It was less a lack of
creativity and more a want to not let Sagawa know what bars he
frequented. They ended up on an even seedier side of Pink Street,
inside of a little dive bar with a faded sign hanging lopsided above
the door. Majima didn't even recognize the place. Good.

They walked in, and Sagawa asked for Majima's drink order.
Majima gave him a generalized “whatever” and took the corner
booth in the back. When Sagawa came back, he did so with a
comically large glass of beer from the tap. Majima cocked an
eyebrow.

“Hey,” said Sagawa. “You did say 'whatever' and 'one drink.'”
“Yeah,” Majima agreed. “I guess I should have clarified that the
one drink shouldn't be able to fill up the fucking Nile river.” Still, hey,
it was free booze. And it was only beer. It would take a lot more than
a hallowed out leg of liquid bread to get Majima fucked up. Speaking
of, Majima leaned in and peered at the bottom of the glass. Sagawa,
getting out his cigarettes, blinked.
“What?” He tilted his head forward. “You looking for roofies?”
“Damn straight,” Majima said bluntly. He glared through the
bubbly gold. “I don't exactly trust easy after the shit you pulled.”
Sagawa sighed. “Fair enough,” he said, leaving the issue. Once
Majima was satisfied, he sipped a little foam off the top. At least it
was decent beer. None of that watered down American shit. Tasted
German, actually.

225

“So,” Sagawa began. “How've you been?”
Majima took another dip into his beer. “I agreed to drink with
you. I didn't agree to talk to you.”
Sagawa propped his chin in his hand, unlit cigarette hanging off
his lips. “I see. So you're just gonna sit there and drink in silence?”
“Fuck yes I am.”
“Fine. If that's what you want to do.”
And so, for ten painful minutes, that's exactly what Majima did.
He sipped his beer and stared at his phone, or the TV over the bar, or
into empty space. All the while, he felt Sagawa's eyes burn into him.
If his glass wasn't so fucking impractical (the thing was like half a
meter high), he would have chugged it. Sagawa must have gotten it
to draw out their “date” as long as possible. But finally, the silence
was far too unbearable, and Majima snapped his eyes to Sagawa's
smiling face.
“What?” Majima demanded.
Sagawa, half way through his smoke, kept his smile. “You're cute
when you're stubborn, you know.”
Majima's glare increased tenfold, and his shoulders went stiff as a
board. “I am not cute.”
“Sure, sure.” Sagawa leaned against his seat, tapping his ashes
into the complimentary tray on the table. “That's why someone like
Kiryu Kazuma is so in love with you.”
Majima's guard doubled. “What's that supposed to mean,
someone like Kiryu-chan?”

226

Sagawa tilted his head. “Well, I hear rumors. The man's one hell
of a fighter. Irreplaceable, as far as the Tojo Clan is concerned. So he's
got to have his faults, doesn't he?” Majima was glaring daggers, but
Sagawa continued. “I heard he had a little girlfriend on the side last
year during the Omi–Tojo debacle. A cop, no less.”

Majima felt a twist in his gut, but he played it off. “So? I don't
own Kiryu-chan. He can see whoever he wants.”

“Is that right?”
“Yeah. We're our own men. Besides, it's not like it lasted.”
“That's true,” said Sagawa. He rolled his filter against his fingers.
“I wonder why.” Sagawa's eyes were dangerous, and Majima was
careful to keep his face straight as possible. “Of course, if rumors are
to be believed... Well, I heard he couldn't quite perform under
pressure. Is that true?”
Rather than sending Majima over the edge, he blinked with
surprise, and then burst out laughing. It was a move that shocked
Sagawa enough to wipe that smirk off his face.
“Seriously!?” Majima blurted out. “You think your secret weapon
to pull Kiryu-chan and me apart is the fact that he's fuckin' ace?! You
must be out of your goddamn mind!”
Sagawa faltered. “So... he is useless in the sack, then?”
“Are you fuckin' high?!” Majima cackled. People were starting to
stare. Majima couldn't even give half a shit, let alone a full one. “No
he ain't useless, you pansy ass bitch! Matter of fact, Kiryu Kazuma is

227

just about the best lay I've ever had, and that includes your pervy
dead uncle.”

“...Oh...” It was all Sagawa could muster, and for once, Majima felt
like he got a leg up. “I see...” Clearly he didn't, but that was a
conversation for another time. “So then why did he leave you
behind?”

And that was the mic drop. Majima's face fell at the speed of
sound, and his heart missed an entire rotation. In a split second,
Majima's childish glee was replaced with resounding, overwhelming
sadness. After a moment, his words spoke on their own accord. “He...
wanted out. Of the life. You know. He was done.”

“With everything?” Sagawa asked. “Done with you?”
“No...” Majima's throat tightened. “There was this orphanage he
wanted to run. To do some good in the world. Someone had to stay
behind. Make sure the clan didn't fall apart.”
“So you're telling me,” Sagawa pieced together, “that he wanted
nothing to do with the Tojo Clan, but he forced his boyfriend to stay
behind and take care of it?” Sagawa snubbed his cigarette into the
ash tray. “Sounds like mixed messages to me.”
Majima regained a little more of that angry spark, and he tensed
up. “That's just the kind of guy Kiryu-chan is,” he defended. “Loyal to
the end. Especially to the Tojo Clan.”
“To the Tojo Clan,” Sagawa agreed. His eyes flickered up to
Majima's. “But not to you.”

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That hurt. Like a dagger to the dick coated with rusty nails hurt.
Majima's upper brain was screaming at him, telling him not to listen.
This was just that old fashioned Sagawa manipulation, disguised as
compassion. But the rest of him, lower brain and otherwise, was
faced with the horrifying concept that Sagawa might be right.

How many times did Majima show up wherever Kiryu was, just to
have Kiryu shake his head or begrudgingly accept his company? Even
after they were dating, Kiryu was always so reserved and straight
laced. There were times when it felt like he was simply tolerating
Majima's high energy, rather than enjoying it. And then the move...

Majima stayed behind that morning, rather than wish them
goodbye at the docks out of stubbornness. Over the phone, he
pretended that their little scuffle made him too achy to get out of
bed. In reality, he couldn't face the music. Kiryu and Haruka. A happy
little family, complete without him. Off to go add more strays to their
collection. Strays that did not include Majima Goro. He couldn't help
it. Sagawa had dredged up every insecurity Majima ever had with
Kiryu in a single sentence.

Rather than respond, Majima hoisted the glass up to his lips and
chugged as much as he could. He got down through most of it before
finally having to come up for air. When he set the glass down, he
wiped the mess of his face away with the back of his sleeve. That
jacket saw worse than a little beer, after all. Sagawa shook his head.

229

“Look,” he said, “I'm not trying to upset you. I'm just saying...
with how much you seem to give him in your relationship, the scales
don't exactly seem balanced. You know?”

“You don't know jack shit,” Majima muttered.
“Maybe I don't,” said Sagawa. “At least, not about him. If I was in
his shoes, I'd have a ticket with your name on it right next to mine.”
Majima hated how nice that sounded, and tried to force down the
butterflies in his stomach. “Fuck the Tojo Clan. After everything they
did to you, both of you, I can't fathom why someone like Kiryu would
even bother trying to keep it together. Let alone force someone I
supposedly care about back into the shit over some idealized idea of
family honor or whatever.”
“Shut up.”
“And on top of that, does he even plan to visit? Or are you just
supposed to pine at the window for him forever, like a good little
puppy?”
“I said shut up.”
“Tell you what, if some asshole did that to me, I don't think I
could stomach even being with them in theory. That's two steps away
from getting dumped in my book–”
“I said shut the fuck up!” Majima slammed his hands on the table
and shot to his feet. His face was red, and his eye was wide with fury.
“I don't give a fuck what your book says, your book ain't my book,
and it never will be! You shut the fuck up about me 'n Kiryu-chan,
cause you don't know a goddamn thing, and if you say one more

230

word against him I will reach over this table and pull your goddamn
tongue out!”

The bar was dead silent. As Majima caught his breath, Sagawa
didn't so much as flinch. Instead, he remained calm and collected,
fingers threaded on the table. His eyes tilted down to what was left in
Majima's glass.

“Finish your drink, Majima-chan.” His voice had a cold,
commanding tone in it. The kind that brought Majima back two
whole decades of his life. He should have marched out of there,
incensed, but like being put under a spell, Majima sat back down. He
gripped the bottom of the glass in silence. After a moment, he tilted
it up and finished it. Setting the empty tank to the side, Majima
stared at his hands. He wasn't sure where to go from there. What to
feel. Sagawa leaned forward on the table, forcing Majima to look up.
He didn't realize how much his shoulders were trembling.

“Are you lonely, Majima-chan?” Sagawa's voice whispered so that
only Majima could hear. Majima's chest swirled with indecision and
self-hate. God yes, he was lonely. Even when he was in the hole, he
never felt this lonely before. Sagawa boldly reached out and touched
Majima's wrist, and he jolted. Everything about Majima felt a
hundred times more sensitive.

“You said it yourself,” Sagawa continued. “You and Kiryu are your
own men. So why stay loyal to someone who won't stay loyal to
you?” Majima had no answer. Sagawa, very gently, and yet very
deliberately, took hold of Majima's chin, tilting his head just so.

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Shivers ran down Majima's spine. He knew those shivers. Fuck those
shivers. “You let Kiryu flirt around with that lady cop. Why deprive
yourself of some good old fashioned company?” Majima's throat was
so tight, he couldn't speak. A thin, cruel smile, not unlike that of the
old Sagawa, stretched over the young Sagawa's lips. “Why torture
yourself like this?” Majima had no answer.

Letting his chin go, Sagawa stood and fixed the cuffs of his
sleeves. “Come, Majima-chan.” When Majima didn't move
immediately, Sagawa tilted his head and lowered the register of his
voice. “I said come.”

Majima's stomach clenched. Like some invisible strings were
pulling him along, Majima slipped from the booth and stood in
Sagawa's presence. His eye was glassy in a way that had nothing to
do with the beer. When Sagawa left, Majima left behind him.

They walked for some time, not saying a word to each other. The
sounds of the city felt so far away. Like being recorded in a fish bowl.
With every step, Majima's shame was overpowered by a thrill of
forbidden excitement. Finally, Sagawa lead him into a building. Much
like the bar, it was seedy, and practically unmarked. Sagawa didn't
even say anything to the receptionist as he walked Majima through
the lobby. They headed up the steps to the second floor, Majima
behind Sagawa like an obedient dog.

And then, Sagawa stopped. Majima looked up from the floor. He
stared at the room number. 218. Sagawa slid the key card through
the slot in the handle and stepped inside. Keeping it open, Sagawa

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stood against the hallway, showing Majima the hotel room within. A
king sized bed, freshly made. A bottle of champagne. And an array of
toys, newly bought and arranged artfully on the bed sheets. Majima
lingered, his brain buzzing, and glanced up at Majima.

“Well?” Sagawa purred. “It's your choice.” His eyes flashed. “Shall
we play, puppy?” Majima's lips were dry. His blood was racing.

And as Majima stepped inside, Sagawa shut and bolted the door
behind him.

233

Chapter 3: Leashed

It was quiet on the Okinawa coastline that night. Then again, it
always seemed to be quiet, compared to an endless neon dream like
Tokyo. The moon was only half full, but the world was still lit up vivid
silver, while the countless stars twinkled over the swaying horizon.
Haruka wondered, as she gazed out her open window, how long this
peace would last. Young as she was, Haruka was hard pressed to
think of a time that wasn't filled with potential danger. Even when
she first started living with Kiryu, there was always that lingering
threat around every corner. But now, tucked away from the rest of
the world, within the walls of Morning Glory, Haruka felt true
serenity.

Movement caught her attention, and she looked over. Riona was
shifting on her futon, no doubt disturbed by her dreams, but
otherwise, the girls' room was peaceful. Haruka had tried falling
asleep, but funny enough, sometimes the quiet was harder to drift
off in than the noise. She sat up and checked the wall clock. It was
almost midnight. Maybe a glass of water would help.

Careful not to disturb her sisters, Haruka tip-toed to the kitchen
and flipped the light on. She was just starting to get tall enough to
reach the cupboards on her own with no problem, and grabbed the
first glass she could. Haruka was headed to the sink, when she caught
sight of the TV.

234

The sitting room was dark, and the volume was low. Kiryu liked to
watch TV after all the kids went to bed, though he made sure to keep
the noise down. However, the darkness of the room made her worry,
and she set the cup aside. Gently, she walked to the door and poked
her head in.

“Uncle Kaz...?” Sure enough, there was Kiryu, facing the TV, but
he didn't respond. Head in one hand, Kiryu was hunched over the
table with an empty can of beer, gently snoring. Beside it was the TV
remote, an old newspaper, and his cellphone. She made a move to
wake him, when she noticed the screen of his phone was still on.
Curiously, she leaned over. Open but not touched in a while, was a
text log. In it were three messages, all sent by Kiryu himself.

19:32
What flavor of chinsuko do you want?

20:12
Ayako-chan did something cute today.

You'll never guess what it was.

23:10
Good night, Majima-san.

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Not a single one had a response on the other end. Worry clouded
Haruka's expression. She turned off the TV and gently shook Kiryu's
shoulder. “Uncle Kaz. Hey. You should go to bed.”

“Mm...?” Kiryu's voice rumbled like a sleeping bear, and he lifted
his head from his hand. “Haruka...?” He yawned, widely. “What are
you doing up?”

“I was just getting some water.” Kiryu rubbed his eyes, and
Haruka tilted her head slightly. “Is there something wrong?”

“What?” Kiryu blinked, still a little groggy. “I'm fine. Why?”
“Well...” She edged closer. “You've been kinda spacey all day.”
“Spacey?”
“Yeah. Did something happen between you and Uncle Maji?”
Immediately, Kiryu glanced at his phone. Taking it, he flipped it
closed and tucked it into his breast pocket. “No,” he said. “He's
probably just busy, that's all.” Kiryu took the newspaper and the beer
can and brought them to the kitchen trash. Haruka followed, timidly.
Kiryu hesitated.
“What?” He noticed the empty glass next to the sink and poured
Haruka her water. She nodded in thanks as he handed it to her. “You
can tell me what's on your mind, you know.”
“I know,” she said, fidgeting with the glass. “Uncle Kaz, how come
Uncle Maji didn't come with us to Okinawa?”
Now that was a question Kiryu hadn't prepared for. “Well...” He
scratched the back of his head. “I mean... someone had to stay
behind to take care of things.”

236

“What kind of things?”
“Uh...” Kiryu didn't like detailing too much about the operations
of the Tojo Clan, or even mentioning it by name to Haruka. He didn't
doubt the girl's ability to comprehend it, but after everything she'd
been through, Kiryu figured she didn't need to know anything else.
“There's still a lot of work left in Tokyo,” he finally said. “I needed
someone I trusted to stay behind and make sure it got done.”
“Oh.” Haruka sat at the counter and set her water down. “Do you
miss him, Uncle Kaz?”
Kiryu felt his heart clench. He pulled up a stool and sat next to
Haruka, resting his hand on the back of her head. “Of course I do,” he
said. “All the time. Do you?”
Haruka nodded. “It was always so fun when he came over.” Kiryu
smiled in agreement, and Haruka looked back up. “Wasn't there
someone else who could have done the work back home?” she
continued. “Didn't Uncle Maji want to come with us?”
Boy that one was a little below the belt. Kiryu squirmed a bit
uncomfortably and folded his arms on the counter. “Look, Majima-
san is...” He hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I don't think he
would have liked being here.” Seeing the heartbreak on Haruka's
face, Kiryu rephrased quickly.
“What I mean is, Majima-san likes the city. He's kind of... he's kind
of like that dog we found a couple years ago. Remember him?
Majima-san likes his freedom. Sure, he'll take responsibility when he
needs to, but he doesn't like being tied down to one place or one

237

person. He's always been that way. I... I think if I asked him to come
with, I think he might have just said 'no.'” Sadly, Haruka looked into
her glass, and Kiryu pet her hair, gently. “It's not that he doesn't like
us. He just wouldn't be as happy here as he would be back in
Kumorocho.”

After a moment of thought, Haruka got off of her stool and
climbed into Kiryu's lap. Kiryu hugged her in that way only a father
could, and rested his chin on her head. “Do you ever tell him that you
miss him, Uncle Kaz?”

Kiryu closed his eyes. “He knows.”
Haruka pulled away to look up, her face serious. “How can you be
sure?” she said. “If you don't express how you feel, how can you
expect Uncle Maji to know?”
Bit of an uncomfortable question, that one. Kiryu smiled sadly.
“Oy, oy. When'd you get to be so smart?” Haruka smiled, and Kiryu
kissed her forehead. “It's late. Why don't you head on back to bed?
Don't forget your water.”
“Ok.” Taking her drink, she headed back to the girl's room. Kiryu
remained where he was, and for a while, simply stared at the
dripping faucet across from him. He took his phone back out and
flipped it open to his text conversations. Still no replies. Heart low in
his chest, he snapped it closed and headed to bed, flipping off the
light as he went.
Unbeknownst to Kiryu, there were two reasons Majima had not
answered him. The first, very simply, was that his phone was dead,

238

and had been since late afternoon. Majima was terrible at
remembering to charge the damn thing, which often got him in
trouble for missing important appointments or patriarch meetings.
The second reason being, even if he had remembered to charge it,
Majima couldn't physically send a text if he wanted to.

Majima didn't know what possessed him to accept Sagawa
Akito's invitation. All those horrible things he said at the bar still rang
in his ears. If he had any sense, he would have smashed that stupid,
yard length beer glass into the fucker's head and stormed out. And
yet, swayed by forces unknown, he followed Sagawa across town and
into a hotel room, where for hours, Sagawa had Majima wrapped
around his pinky.

It started small. Little commands to whet Majima's appetite.
Strip. Bend over. Turn around. Let me see you. Touch yourself. Now
stop. Majima followed each one without fail. Sagawa, in contrast, had
made himself comfortable in the opposite arm chair, and enjoyed a
thin cigar while he gave his orders. But he wasn't an observer for
long. Once he grew bored of sitting at the sidelines, Sagawa
approached Majima, now nude, and the real night began. First, he
toyed with him. Pulled his hair, teased his body. Then, the toys came
out. Sagawa worked quickly, and thus, Majima was brought to his
current situation.

Majima was on his knees at the moment. Positioned on the
center of the bed, with ropes in every corner and crevice of his naked
body. Everything down to his eyepatch was discarded, leaving him

239

raw and vulnerable. His arms were flush up against his back, tied
delightfully tight to his chest. The rope webbed from his pectoral
muscles up to his neck and back down again. Some of it even
rounded off Majima's thighs, which were kept spread by the ropes
pulling at his ankles. With every breath, his scarred stomach twitched
and trembled. The ball gag he wore was liquored with spit from the
edge of Majima's mouth through the holes of the toy itself. His
erection, pounding with need, was being held back by a ring at the
base of his cock. Only the tiniest bit of precum managed to dot the
tip of his head. And around his neck, dangling beautifully in the light
of the table lamp, was Majima's collar. The perfect, final detail to
Sagawa's masterpiece.

Speaking of, Sagawa was currently seated on the headboard of
the bed, still working on his cigar. He kept Majima at an arm's length,
so as to toy with him more easily. Majima's cheeks were slick with
lubricant, no doubt from the open bottle at Sagawa's left. Currently,
Sagawa was sliding a thin vibrator in and out of Majima's ass,
occasionally raising and dipping the frequency of the vibration. Every
time it surged, Majima moaned into his gag and curled forward, his
penis begging for relief.

“You better be careful, Majima-chan,” he said. “Your ass is so
greedy. I might lose this.” He rolled the vibrator around the inside of
Majima's walls. Majima whimpered, his hands clenching behind his
back. Sagawa tapped the ashes of his cigar into the ashtray and
leaned forward. Smoke between his fingers, he gently pet Majima's

240

exposed chest, flicking those (by now, very sore) pert nipples. Majima
flinched at the contact.

“I can't tell you how long I waited. It seems like an eternity. But it
was worth it... to see you give yourself to me like this.” Sagawa
turned the vibrator all the way up, and Majima moaned, arching his
back. Sagawa lowered the intensity and slid it away. It disconnected
with a pleasant pop! Sagawa set the vibrator aside, and Majima
nearly collapsed, trying desperately to catch his breath and calm his
body down.

Sagawa got off the bed, hand in his pocket. He was still dressed,
sans his jacket and shoes. He pinched the cigar between his teeth
and moved his hands down to his belt. Majima looked up, glassy-
eyed, as Sagawa undid his trousers. “I stayed awake at night,” he said,
speaking through his clenched teeth, “and imagined how you felt.
Your ass. Your mouth.” Zipper down, Sagawa knelt forward and undid
the clasp on Majima's ballgag. Once it was off, Sagawa knelt on the
bed, cradling Majima's cheek in his hand. “Your kiss... Majima-chan.
How sweet it must be.” But as he moved forward, Majima yanked his
head away. Sagawa stalled, surprised. “Something wrong?”

Majima, still aching for air, let his head roll back. Horny as he was,
he still managed to glare at Sagawa. “No kissing,” he growled.

“Oh?” said Sagawa. He smiled, bitterly. “Really?”
“Try it,” Majima panted, “and I bite your fucking tongue out.”
Sagawa laughed, poison in his tenor. “Very well.” Sagawa let his
hand fly, the back of which made contact with Majima's sallow

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cheek. His head jerked at the slap, but before he had time to recover,
Sagawa roughly grabbed his jaw, forcing Majima to face him. “I'll just
have to settle for second best, I suppose.”

He pulled out his own cock, which had been throbbing with
excitement for some time now. Cigar now forgotten on the
nightstand, Sagawa grabbed both sides of Majima's face, forcing his
mouth open, and inserted himself. Now, Majima gave plenty of head
in his life, and was well practiced. But his no-gag-reflex party trick
only worked so long as nobody violently throat-fucked him to the
point of almost passing out. Every time Sagawa humped, Majima's
nose squished in at a different, uncomfortable angle. Majima barely
had moments to breathe, and before long, he felt his lips starting to
bruise over. Finally, Sagawa pulled away, letting Majima catch his
breath.

Sagawa flipped Majima onto his stomach, hoisting his ass in the
air. Grabbing his bony thighs, Sagawa inserted himself and started to
thrust. Majima cried out, his fingers clawing at his binding. Sagawa,
starting to sweat, fucked Majima without a hint of grace or
gentleness. The rough sex only compounded Majima's own pleasure
against his cock ring, making it even more painful. He stopped only
once, which made Majima look over his shoulder, blurry and curious.
Sagawa had pulled a matching leather leash from his pile of props.
Digging his dick further into Majima's ass, he leaned over and hooked
the end of the leash to Majima's dog collar. Once it was on good and
proper, he pulled.

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“Aghna–!” Majima whined as Sagawa tugged. He continued his
thrusting, never letting up on the leash. It got to a point where
Majima's brain was fried, and all he could do was focus on his
breathing. The pain and pleasure electrified his body until tears
forced their way out. “Sa—ah—Saga—wa—! P—please—! Please—!”

Sagawa didn't let up, and grinned through grit teeth. “You want
to come... Majima-chan...?”

“Y—yes—!”
“Beg me...”
Majima coughed and cried against the sheets. “Let me—oh—ha
—aahh—L—let—me—c—c—c—aahh!” That last syllable rang out as
Sagawa leaned in and unclasped Majima's ring. Majima screamed out
as his orgasm shot through his body like a bullet. His cum splattered
over the bedsheets, and his whole body seized. The euphoria was
quickly outweighed by the aches and pains of his body, especially
when he felt Sagawa shoot inside of him. He pulled out half way to
finish on Majima's bare ass cheeks. He felt the hot seed trail down his
thighs and onto the bed.
With the last of his strength leaving him, Majima collapsed into
the mess of his own making. Sagawa, now slick with a sheen of
sweat, left for the bathroom, and returned with a towel. Rather than
cleaning up Majima, he used it to wipe down his own neck and face.
When he was finished, he threw it onto Majima's sensitive thighs.
“How was that, Majima-chan?” He zipped up his pants and
leaned over Majima's body. As his hand cupped Majima's shoulder, a

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shot of revulsion boiled in Majima's stomach. “It sure looked like you
enjoyed it...” That hand went up to Majima's hair, and he tugged his
head to one side. Sagawa, high off the ecstasy, leaned in, and
Majima's body reacted faster than he anticipated.

Wham! Majima launched his forehead upwards, landing it smack
in the middle of Sagawa's crown. It sent him flailing backwards, and
onto the carpet below. Tired and dizzy, Majima managed to sit up on
his thighs, his breath labored and his body sweaty.

“I... fuckin' told you...” he breathed. “No kissing...”
Sagawa laid motionless for a bit, but managed to force himself
onto his feet. There was a nasty bruise starting to form over his left
eye. Majima took a bit of sick pleasure at the sight. Sagawa finished
buttoning up his shirt. They stared each other down. Then, quick as a
blink, Sagawa struck Majima across the face. He slapped him
repeatedly, switching hands until both palms were red, and Majima's
face was tender. When Sagawa was satisfied, he threw on his shoes
and swiped his jacket from the floor. That coy delight was gone
completely. All that remained was a harsh, cruel expression. Without
another word, Sagawa threw on his jacket, fixed his sleeves, and left.
Majima sat for a while, uncomfortable and achy in his binds. He
scanned the room. At least he had his tanto on him. Though tossing it
onto the bed was the least that bastard could have done before
bouncing. Struggling, Majima managed to slip off the bed and
crouch/hop his way to his jacket, where he wiggled his dagger out
with his teeth. Once it was unsheathed, he positioned it in the seat

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cushion and delicately sawed the rope from his hands. He managed
to break free in no time, and used the dagger to cut the rest of his
ropes off. As he struggled to his feet, he caught a glimpse of himself
in the long, hallway mirror.

Bruises ran up and down Majima's body like a river. His empty
eye socket looked even more prominent among the red marks. Stains
and sweat covered his legs in globs. Specks of blood were budding
where his skin had started to break. And that collar. That leather
strap around his neck still hung so dutifully at the center of his
throat. Majima was quick to undo the latch and let it fall to his feet.
He went through his jacket and pulled out his squished pack of
smokes and his cellphone, only to realize his phone was very dead.

“Damn...” Popping a cigarette between his teeth, he searched
through the bedside table. Fortunately, there was a complimentary
phone charger coiled up in the drawer. He plugged it in and let it
juice, all the while getting himself comfortable on the bed. He
probably should take a bath or something, but he was too tired to do
anything but sleep after that. Grabbing the lighter Sagawa left
behind, he lit up the cherry and sighed. Fuck it. At least he got a free
room out of the deal.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at it. There were a few missed texts
waiting for him. Keeping it plugged in, he went through his messages.
Some were from Nishida, asking where he was. Not like he ever
responded to those anyway. Some were spam, and one was a coupon
for a free boba. When he'd gone through all the rest, he landed on

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the chat log under Kiryu's name. His fingers trembled as he opened
the messages.

19:32
What flavor of chinsuko do you want?

20:12
Ayako-chan did something cute today.

You'll never guess what it was.

23:10
Good night, Majima-san.

A whole new pain overtook Majima's body. He tried to swallow
the lump in his throat, but with no luck. Out of curiosity, he looked at
the digital clock by the lamp. 1:24. Weight like nothing else started
constricting his lungs, and suddenly, he was breathing harder than
when Sagawa had been there. “Fuck.” He sat up and put his feet on
the ground, if only to give him something stable to feel. It'd been
quite a while since he'd experienced this level of guilt. Not since
Makoto had been shot right in front of him.

Majima sucked on his cigarette, desperate to find some kind of
emotional relief. None came. His hand tightened on the phone,
nearly threatening to break it in half. His leg bounced, and he smoked
in record time. He stared at Kiryu's messages, faced with the harsh
reality of what he had done. Suddenly, his vision blurred over, and
two massive tear drops crashed onto his open screen.

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“Ah—” Majima sat up, touching his face gingerly. “Shit.” His words
caught in his throat, and he let out a half-laugh, half-sob. “What the
fuck is wrong with me...?” Dropping his phone, he dug the palm of
his hand into his eye, laughing and crying all at once. Letting those
emotional dams collapse, Majima let his regret flood him like a
tsunami.

He had never felt so alone.

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Chapter 4: The Hard Truth

“Excuse me, I'm visiting someone.”
“Ah yes, sign here please. Name of the patient?”
“Kiryu Kazuma.”
The nurse behind the counter typed at her keyboard, and when
the sign in sheet was filled out, she added the new information to
the screen. “Please take this visitor's sticker.” She laid a name tag on
the counter. “And you're all set...” She glanced down at the sign in
sheet. “Sayama-san.”
Sayama Kaoru placed the sticker tag on the front of her lapel,
flattening it as she went. When she was satisfied, she readjusted the
bouquet of flowers in her arms and nodded at the nurse. “What
room?”
“Room 4012,” said the nurse. “The elevators are down the
hallway there.”
“Thank you.” With a nod of her head, Kaoru walked down the
hospital hallway and towards the elevator doors. Hospitals were
never her favorite place to be, but it beat visiting a prison. Ryuji
seemed to be getting on well though, so at least that morning wasn't
a total depressive episode. When the elevator dinged, Kaoru stepped
inside and pressed the button for the fourth floor. The doors closed,
and she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection.

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Strange that barely a week had passed since the showdown on
top of the Millennium Tower. So much had transpired in just a few
short hours that night... And now Kaoru's life had changed, and
perhaps for good.

Goda Ryuji, a brother she never even knew she had, was being
held, awaiting his trial for kidnapping. Kaoru was confident that the
Omi Alliance would get him off easy, but it was for the best if he sat
without bail for a while. Kaoru hadn't gotten much time to get to
know Ryuji, but the more she did, the more she realized just how
volatile a man like him could be out in the world. And then of course
there was Kiryu.

Her heart fluttered as she recounted those moments on top of
the tower. Balancing on the precipice of life and death, Kaoru's
decision to stay at Kiryu's side was an easy one. She'd never
considered herself to be a passionate person, yet when it came down
to the wire, it was no contest. Perhaps she and Ryuji had that in
common. Eyeing her reflection, Kaoru fixed her hair and straightened
her jacket.

The doors dinged, and she stepped out into the hallway. She
wondered, as she walked, if Kiryu was strapped down to his hospital
bed so that he'd stay put. The man had stubbornly insisted that a few
fractured ribs was nothing he couldn't walk off, and it took the
combined efforts of Kaoru, Date, Daigo, and even little Haruka to
make sure he healed properly. She smiled to herself as she turned a
corner. A man like that... For Kaoru, he was one in a million. She

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wondered, almost selfishly, what their lives had in store for the
future...

“...this asshole kept insisting that wasn't how you played darts!
Can you believe that?”

“That's not how you play darts, Majima-no-niisan.”
“But I threw them the hardest!”
“You're still supposed to hit the target.”
The voices caught Kaoru off guard and she pressed herself to the
wall, listening in. She recognized them both. One was Kiryu, no
question, but the second voice was a little trickier. After a moment,
she remembered the high pitched frequency belonged to one
Majima Goro. Patriarch in his own right, and as far as Kaoru knew,
absolute nut-job. She carefully peeked around the corner into the
hospital room.
There lay Kiryu Kazuma, his stomach bandages to help set those
fractured ribs. Around his bedside were flowers and gifts of well
wishes, including a huge homemade card, no doubt from Haruka.
Other than the few other bandages and stitches, Kiryu was sitting up,
and looked healthy as he'd ever been. Strong as an ox, always. And
sitting at his feet, on the edge of the bed, was Majima. He wore his
signature snakeskin jacket, but at least had the sense to stop toting
that silly construction helmet everywhere.
“Yeah but don't there gotta be some points for chippin' the wall
paper?” Majima was saying. “I mean, I busted a damn water valve!
That's impressive, don't you think?”

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