Love of a Lifetime

life, those pictures would follow you. Right down to the day you're
buried.”

Majima's body shook with anger. Despite how it hurt his wrists to
do so, Majima struggled against his cuffs. He was pleased to find a
little more strength returning to him, but it wasn't nearly what he
needed. But before he could manage even a seething insult,
something in the room vibrated. Both Sagawa and Majima turned to
Majima's suit jacket, which was flopped into the corner in an
ungraceful pile. Sagawa walked over and slipped out Majima's
cellphone as it rang. Sagawa read the name on the front screen with
a bitter smile.

“'Chibi dragon,'” he read aloud. A thrill of hope and panic shot
through Majima's chest. Sagawa locked eyes with his captive, and
without hesitating, let the phone drop to the carpet. It continued to
ring up until Sagawa brought his shoe down onto the phone,
destroying it. Dread weighed on Majima's heart as Sagawa ground his
heel into the broken pieces of his cell. “Can't have Kiryu-san
disrupting our fun, can we?” Once he was satisfied, Sagawa kicked
the remains of Majima's phone aside and leaned over the bed. “Now
then...

“Shall we begin?”
Beyond the door to Majima's prison, The Grand remained quiet
and unused. There were certainly frustrated patrons that night, but
the sign on the front reading “closed for renovations” at least kept
them from asking questions.

301

Down below in the cellar, Nishida hadn't moved much from
where he was when Majima found him. He was still tied to the pipes,
which was uncomfortable no matter how he shifted, but now he had
the added company of Majima's driver, who had spent most of his
“guard duty” on Nishida counting out Sagawa's money on a small,
fold out card table. Nishida watched, mostly without comment.

Nishida had never been that bold of a man. There was nothing
particularly outstanding about him, and he knew that. He wasn't the
smartest, or the strongest, or the quickest with a comeback. Mostly,
he spent his yakuza career picking up Majima's dry cleaning. Which,
in all honesty, he was fine with. Nishida hadn't enlisted in the yakuza
because he fancied himself a big strong brute or a money extorting
genius.

Frankly... he enlisted because nobody else was hiring.
And now look at the shit he was in. Being one of Majima's
officers, Nishida was used to winding up in sticky situations. This was
different. Every time before now, Nishida always knew, somehow,
that the boss would come out on top in the end. All Nishida had to
do was keep his head down and follow orders, and everything would
be fine. This was different. Seeing Majima brought down to his knees
in front of him was beyond terrifying. And it brought him to the
frightening conclusion that he may actually have to do something on
his own.
Nishida looked up to Majima's fake driver, who was now enjoying
a can of beer and a cigarette. Nishida shifted. “Urm... ex...excuse

302

me...” The man didn't bother looking over. Nishida cleared his throat
and tried again. “Excuse me. Sir?” Finally, the man looked over,
bored. “I'm sorry to bother you, but um... I need to use the toilet.”

The guard lingered before taking out his cigarette and swigged his
beer. “Hold it,” he said.

“Ah, that's the problem,” Nishida argued. “I've been holding it for
a while now. And it's um... I'm very sorry, sir, but if I don't go now, I'll
make a mess.”

The man twisted his lips up in disgust. “Are you serious?”
Nishida nodded. “Very serious. I'm sorry.”
With a deep sigh, the guard got up and knelt next to Nishida. He
began undoing his binds, all the while Nishida remained calm and
subdued. “You try anything and I get to shoot you,” he said.
“Yes, I understand.”
Once he was freed, the guard walked Nishida up the steps to the
restroom on the house floor. Nishida walked, with his chaperon
dutifully behind him, until they reached the men's restroom. Once
they were through the door, Nishida paused. The guard was staring
at him, expectantly. “Well?” he said.
“Urm...” Nishida twiddled his thumbs. “I'm very sorry, sir. I can't
really go with other people watching.”
“I thought you were about to make a mess on the floor.”
“I was,” Nishida said. “But it's very embarrassing for me
regardless. My stomach has been upset from stress and I don't think
you want to be present.” He bowed his head. “Please. Just give me a

303

little privacy. I promise I won't be long, and you can tie me back up to
the pipes right after.”

The guard gave a deep, prolonged sigh. “Fine. Not like you got the
balls to do shit anyway.”

“You're correct.”
With that, the guard left Nishida to do his business. Nishida
listened carefully. It sounded like he hadn't strayed far from the door,
which was fine. But that meant Nishida had to be quick. He looked
around him.
The bathrooms at The Grand were as fancy and well kept as one
might expect, but unfortunately, their stylish architecture lead to one
fatal flaw: tiny windows. Not to mention there was no other way out
besides the door he entered from. Which meant Nishida couldn't slip
away, unnoticed. So, Plan B.
Walking into a stall, Nishida lifted up the porcelain lid from the
toilet tank, which nearly knocked him off his feet. After steadying
himself, he braced against the wall beside the swinging door and
hoisted it over his head. His arms trembled, and he knew that it was
only a matter of time before they gave out.
“E-excuse me, sir!” Nishida called out. “I'm so sorry! My stall
doesn't have toilet paper! I need help!”
Through the door, Nishida heard the guard piss and moan, and
walked through the door in a tiff. “Just grab some from the other
stall–!” He paused, scanning the empty rows of toilets. “Eh?” Just as

304

he was starting to turn, Nishida finally let the weight of the lid win
out, and sent it flying smack dab onto the man's head.

The crack! echoed like gunfire, splitting the lid down the middle.
Nishida let it drop along with his guard, who was knocked out cold,
and very, very concussed. Panicking, Nishida scrambled over the
man's body until he found a gun, which he nearly dropped in his
sweaty hands. Stuffing it into his pants, he bowed frantically as he
exited.

“Please excuse me! I'm so sorry! Thank you for the gun!” With
that, he turned tail and fled from The Grand. The front doors were
locked, so he went out through the kitchen, praying that Sagawa's
men were not lingering around the property, just in case. Coming out
to the foot path near the river, Nishida ran his hands through his hair.
What the hell should he do now? He tried searching for his
cellphone, but remembered that it was confiscated when he was
kidnapped. Shit. He needed to contact the family office, somebody.
But he realized, with increasing dismay, that he didn't know any
numbers by heart.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit...” Nishida hurried to the first payphone he
could find, trying desperately to rack his brain for a phone number.
Any phone number would do. Stuffing in his coin, he held up the
receiver to his ear. “Come on, think...” And then it hit him. The one
number that Majima said to call if he was ever in trouble, drilled into
his head for months on end. Praying he remembered it correctly,
Nishida began to dial.

305

◈◈◈
“The number you have reached is not available at this time.
Please leave your message for... 'Fuck off...' after the tone.”
Kiryu sighed and shut his phone. He'd been trying off and on for
hours to get a hold of Majima, but nothing came of it. Kiryu
wondered if he was busy with Tojo business. After all, he mentioned
that Daigo had some important stuff on his plate concerning
Okinawa. Still, the longer he didn't get some kind of answer, the
more worried Kiryu was becoming.
It was sunset by now. Plenty of time for Majima to have arrived in
Tokyo. As for Kiryu, he had spent the afternoon talking with Rikiya
and Mikio about his predicament. Funny enough, their insight was
just what Kiryu needed after something like this. And so, after lunch,
he decided to try and give Majima a call to talk. There would be a lot
of work on the road ahead, and Kiryu wasn't sure if he was ready to
forgive so easily. But he was willing to try.
After the first couple of attempts, Kiryu wondered if Majima was
on a delayed flight. A few more, and Kiryu was starting to think that
Majima was ignoring him on purpose. By the time he clocked in his
thirtieth call, Kiryu was starting to get the sinking feeling that
something was up. He tapped his phone against his chin in thought,
trying to figure out why Majima wasn't answering. A noise from the
kitchen diverted his attention, and he saw Mikio apologize profusely
to Haruka after almost knocking over their entire pot of curry for the
night.

306

“Still no luck?” Rikiya sat down next to Kiryu at the table, passing
him a chilled beer. Kiryu shook his head.

“No,” he admitted. “I'm starting to worry.”
“Mm.” Rikiya sipped his own can and tapped the table. “Maybe
you should swing by if you're that worried,” he suggested.
“Maybe...” Still, Kiryu was a little wary of a physical conversation.
Mainly because it would probably devolve into another fistfight.
Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it wasn't entirely
productive. Kiryu set his phone down and ran his fingers through his
hair. The gel was starting to come out, he'd been doing it so
frequently that day. “Maybe I should just... let things lie for a little
bit.”
“Might not be a bad idea,” Rikiya nodded. “Things are still tender,
yeah? Maybe let the situation breathe and try again tomorrow.”
“You're right.” Kiryu snapped open his beer and took a drink. “I'm
sure he's got his reasons not to want to talk.” Plus, obsessing over it
wasn't the healthiest way to cope, either. For both of their sakes, it
was no doubt best to take it slow. That resolve, however, vanished
the minute Kiryu heard his phone ring. Quick as a flash, he flipped it
open and held it to his ear. “Majima?”
“E-excuse me! Is this the Fourth Chairman?”
Kiryu blinked, surprised at the voice. “Nishida? Is that you?”
“Oh thank God! I was on my last coin, and if I didn't get your
number right this time I don't know what I would have done!”

307

Kiryu glanced at Rikiya, confused. Not that Rikiya could have shed
any light on the matter. “Are you okay, Nishida-san? You sound
upset.”

“Fourth Chairman, quick! You have to come to Osaka! Come to
The Grand!”

“Whoa, hold on. What's wrong? What's going on at The Grand?”
“It's the boss!”
“Majima...?” Kiryu's blood went hot, and he furrowed his brow.
“What happened to Majima-no-niisan? Why hasn't he answered any
of my phone calls?”
“He's in trouble, sir!”
“Slow down. What happened?”
“He's been kidnapped!”
Kidnapped? Kiryu's senses were on high alert. Already he was
standing, ready to leave. “How?”
“I was kidnapped first, sir. Before I knew it, I was in Sotenbori, and
I believe the kidnapper used me as bait to trick the boss into
coming!”
Trick, huh? No. If Kiryu knew Majima, he had walked into the trap
fully knowing what it was. He wasn't the type of leader to abandon
his men like that, no matter what was waiting for him on the other
side. “I understand. I'll be there as fast as I can be.”
“Yes! Please hurry, Fourth Chairman!”
With that, the call ended. Kiryu rummaged through a drawer,
grabbed his wallet, keys, and a butterfly knife hidden under a phone

308

book. Once they were all in his pockets, he turned to Rikiya, who was
also on his toes.

“Rikiya. I need you and Mikio to stay here with the kids.”
“What's wrong, Aniki?”
“Majima's in trouble. I'm going to Osaka.”
“Osaka?” Rikiya followed Kiryu dutifully as he hurried out the
front door. “Mikio!” Rikiya called. “Come on! We gotta catch a flight!”
As Mikio raced out to follow, Kiryu rounded to the Ryudo boys.
“No,” said Kiryu. “You two need to stay behind—” But Rikiya
shook his head.
“Sorry, Aniki, no can do. Whoever was tough enough to take
down your kyodai is going to be a challenge, even for you.” He turned
to Mikio. “Okinawans don't run from danger. And we don't let our
brothers face it alone, either. We're coming with.”
Kiryu, with time running out, knew that there was no point to
arguing. Even so, a little, thankful smile willed itself onto his face, and
he nodded. Turning towards the orphanage, he called out. “Haruka!”
When she arrived, Kiryu took her shoulders, seriously. “Keep watch
on the orphanage. Make sure no one goes in or out. If something
happens, call Nakahara-san. Ok?”
Haruka, with determination in her eyes, nodded. “Ok, Uncle Kaz.”
And with that, the three raced off the property and down the road
towards the monorail.

◈◈◈

Rope burn fucking sucked.

309

That was the thought that traveled throughout Majima's mind
with alarming frequency. Still trying to recuperate from the
tranquilizers, Majima was helpless as Sagawa took his time trussing
him up like a turkey. Each intricate knot seemed to take longer and
was more complicated than the last. What was doubly irritating were
the little kisses Sagawa left him up and down his body as he went.
Every time Majima tried to shake out of Sagawa's ropes, it scraped
and scratched at his body, leaving harsh red marks against his skin.
Hence the thought, rope burn fucking sucks.

About half way down his chest, Majima decided to try and
conserve as much energy as possible until he could move a little
more freely, despite how badly he wanted to knee Sagawa in his
teeth. If he attacked too quickly, he wouldn't have the ability to really
put up a fight. So he was banking on laying low until he knew that he
got at least a fraction of his strength back. Of course, it proved a little
difficult when Sagawa moved down to his pants.

Majima couldn't help it. The minute Sagawa slipped open that
button, Majima bucked. With his bony hip, he connected against
Sagawa's chin, throwing him off kilter. Unfortunately, that was about
all Majima was able to do, his body winded at the effort. Sagawa sat
up, nursing his now aching jaw. “Ha! Always full of surprises, Majima-
chan.”

Just to add insult to injury, Majima hocked a lugie at Sagawa,
though it didn't get far and landed on the carpet below them.
Sagawa didn't bother hitting back in retribution. Probably because

310

that little tap wasn't worth it. He bent forward, ready to continue,
when the door suddenly flew open behind him. He paused and
turned, and Majima recognized the haggard appearance of his fake
driver. His crown was gushing fresh, red blood, and his sloppy clothes
were stuck to a slick sheen of fop sweat.

“Boss!” he gasped.
“What is it?” Despite being irritated at the interruption, he stood
up at the awful sight of his hired conspirator.
“It's the other one!” he said. “He—he escaped, sir!”
A new spring of adrenaline bloomed in Majima's chest at the
news. The “other one”? It must have been Nishida. Did Majima dare
to hope? Had Nishida—meek, submissive Nishida—really defied the
odds and escaped?
“What do you mean, 'he escaped?'” Furious, Sagawa approached
him. “You were supposed to be watching him, Imahara. You couldn't
even do that right?”
“But he—!”
Whack! Sagawa knocked the man Imahara's head flat into the
side of the wall, nearly sending him into another concussion.
Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, he forced Imahara onto his
feet, scowling. “Call the boys. I want every inch of Sotenbori
searched. Bring him here, and make damn sure he didn't reach out to
anyone. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir!” With that, Imahara spun out and raced away, pulling
out his phone as he went. When Sagawa returned to Majima's side,

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he was all the more furious to see Majima wearing a huge, shit-
eating grin.

“Oh...” he breathed. “You... are so... fucked.”
Sagawa boiled over. Reaching out, he grasped the leash
connected to Majima's collar and tugged. Majima cried out, his chest
straining against the ropes. “Keep testing me,” Sagawa growled, “and
pictures won't be the only thing I take.”
But Majima's smile only returned. His eye fuzzy and his body
tapped, he still bared his teeth in the face of danger. “You don't... get
it...” He laughed, weakly. “Nishida's probably... already gotten a
hold... of Kiryu-chan.” That smile grew. “He'll come... and you... you'll
end up... with your brains on the side... of the road—hrk—!” Majima
was cut off promptly as Sagawa grabbed his throat, squeezing it so
that Majima could barely breathe.
“Are you sure about that?” Sagawa said. “You went and saw him
in Okinawa. But from your phone call, it didn't exactly sound like you
two were all sunshine and roses, now, were you?” Sagawa leaned
down as Majima fought for air.
“You told him, didn't you? I figured you would. Your type of
yakuza are so outdated, Majima-chan. The kind that would trample
their own happiness for the sake of honor. That's why you called it off
between us. Because you confessed, and couldn't take the guilt any
longer.” Sagawa finally let Majima's throat go, and he sputtered
wildly, his lungs burning. Sagawa went into the drawer. When he
returned, Majima saw him prep a new needle. Majima struggled, but

312

Sagawa pinned him down by one shoulder. As the needle pierced
Majima's skin, he cried out. Once it was done, Sagawa pulled the
needle away, and a new wave of wooziness overcame Majima's body.
Sagawa pinched Majima's chin, forcing him to look up.

“How do you know that he would come to rescue you,” he
continued, “after you betrayed him like that? Hm?” Sagawa's head
tilted. Once more, his muscles went limp, and Majima had no way of
stopping the tears as they crashed down his face. “He probably hates
you, Majima-chan.”

“S...stop...” Majima croaked.
“You broke his heart. And now? Now, I get to break you.”

◈◈◈
Kiryu, Rikiya, and Mikio tore through the Okinawan airport like a
tidal wave. Innocent bystanders went flying as Kiryu lead the charge.
Even airport security was in no position to try and slow the men
down. Finally, they reached the ticket counter, nearly startling the
poor girl behind it to death. The three men panted, and Kiryu slapped
down a wad of cash, making the girl go wide-eyed.
“I need... three tickets... to Osaka.”
“Y...yes sir.” The attendant went to her computer and typed a few
things in. She nodded. “Ok. The next flight to Osaka is tomorrow
morning at—”
“Eh!?” Rikiya leaned forward, smacking his hand on the counter.
“We don't have time to waste! We need a flight to Osaka now!”

313

“I-I-y-yes...” the attendant stuttered. “But you see, the last flight
to Osaka was an hour ago. I can... possibly get you on the next flight
to Tokyo, and you can catch a connecting flight out.”

“Fine,” said Kiryu. “Do that. When does that take off?”
The attendant typed in a little more information. “The next
available... is... 10:45pm tonight, sir. You won't be able to take the
connecting flight until 2am.” Miserably, the yakuza men looked at
each other. As it stood, it was barely seven o'clock now. Who knew
what Majima was suffering while they waited that out? Desperate,
Kiryu gripped the edge of the counter.
“Miss,” he said, “this is an emergency. Is there any possible way
we can board the next flight to Tokyo?”
“I'm so sorry,” she said, “but the next two flights are booked
solid.”
“Please.” Kiryu bowed his head, and Rikiya and Mikio followed
suit. “I'm begging you. Please switch some flight seats around.
Please!”
“Please!” Rikiya and Miko echoed.
The attendant mouthed silently, winded by the sudden,
desperate plea. She went back to her computer, but her face only fell.
“I am so sorry, sirs...” she said quietly. “The 10:45 flight is the best I
can do.”
“Is there another airline?” Rikiya asked.
But the woman shook her head. “Okinawa is a small airport, sir.
I'm so sorry.”

314

Reality crashed down on the three of them, and Kiryu gripped his
hair. “I understand... Fine. Put us on that Tokyo flight, please, miss.”

“Yes, sir.” As the attendant readied the tickets, Kiryu turned to
Rikiya and Mikio, who were both on edge with frustration.

“If only we had a speed boat or something,” Mikio said. “Then we
could get going right now!”

“You know you can't drive a speed boat,” Rikiya reminded him.
“We'd end up lost.”

“Not if we used a compass!”
“Kiryu-san?”
All three of them turned as a familiar voice broke through the
turmoil. Like a gift from above, Dojima Daigo stared on, dressed in his
usual business attire. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I swung
by the orphanage to say hello, but your kids said you weren't in.”
“Daigo!” Frantic, Kiryu lurched forward and took the young
chairman's shoulders. “Please tell me you have a private plane!”
“Of course I do.” Diago furrowed his brow in confusion. “Kiryu-
san? What's going on? Why are you at the airport? Has something
happened?” He glanced at the Ryudo boys. “And who are your
friends?”
“Daigo, I need a favor. Please, take us to Osaka.”
Daigo blinked. “Osaka?”
“Yes!”
“I...” He hesitated, before nodding, firmly. “Of course. Follow me.
You can give me the details on the way.” Turning, Daigo rushed the

315

other three out of the terminal and onto the tarmac, where his
private jet lay waiting for him. As the pilot stepped off to greet the
chairman, he paused in confusion.

“Sixth Chairman, sir... Who—?”
“There's been a change of plans.” Daigo stepped aside, letting
Kiryu and the others hurry aboard. “We're going to be flying to
Osaka.”
“Sir?”
“It's an emergency. Get this plane airborn as fast as you can.”
“Yes, sir.” With that, Daigo and his pilot boarded the plane, the
stairs folding in soon after. Within twenty minutes, the private jet
lifted up from the runway, and ascended into the cloudy, night sky.

316

Chapter 7: goodbye, majima-chan

With every new knot, the creaking of the rope ran tingles up
Majima's spine. The second dose of Sagawa's needle had left him
feeling woozy and numb, yet he was still very much aware of the
strain on his wrists. He could only assume he was hopped up on
something akin to morphine over the horse tranq Sagawa lead with.
No doubt, Sagawa would want him awake for their little photo shoot.

Currently, he was on his knees, tied tightly to the headboard, with
each wrist on an opposite knob. Gravity tilted his chest at an angle,
which only made his arms ache even more. Not to mention, his collar
was still hooked up to the wall behind the bed, which also put
pressure on his neck. Majima wasn't sure where the handcuffs had
gone. Probably stashed away from later use. Sagawa, satisfied with
the final tie on Majima's left wrist, took a step back to admire his
work.

“Maybe I'm in the wrong business,” he mused. “How do you feel,
Majima-chan? Comfortable?” Majima didn't bother answering.
“Well, once we get you out of those pants, it'll be even more cozy,
neh?” Sagawa undid Majima's belt. Mentally, Majima cursed Daigo
for making him wear his business suit. At least the leather pants
would have given Sagawa some trouble.

Majima's head swayed from side to side as Sagawa pulled his
pants down to Majima's knees. “There we are...” He glanced up, and

317

something about Majima's expression gave Sagawa reason to pause.
“Oh? You look like you want to say something.” Sagawa got onto the
bed and gently pushed Majima's back to the headboard. “What is it,
Majima-chan?” He tilted Majima's chin, his eyes boring in to
Majima's own. Majima's face was blank and glassy, and for someone
like Sagawa, it was practically an invitation. The hunger in those eyes
grew. Majima could see the desire build within Sagawa, threatening
to spill over any second now. Finally, Sagawa leaned forward, and just
as those inches closed between them, Majima opened his mouth and
clamped down on Sagawa's nose. Hard.

“AGHUH!” Sagawa flew backwards, flopping onto the carpet. As
he writhed below the bed, Majima tilted his head back and cackled,
madly. Those drugs might have made things a little hazy, but it was
gonna take more than ropes and a little sauce to subdue the Mad
Dog of Shimano.

“Y'should see yer face,” Majima slurred. “S'nimprovement.”
Sagawa hoisted himself to his feet, cradling an ever growing river
of blood. He hurried to a vanity mirror and took a look at his
reflection. Majima caught a glimpse, and was more than a little
pleased to see a chunk of skin missing. The copper taste trickled
down Majima's throat, and he licked his lips.
“Y'should c'mere. Lemme take'nother bite outchya.” He laughed
again, a little weaker this time, and fwumped into a tangle of limbs
on the bed pillows. His thighs ached. When was the last time his
fucking thighs ached? When Majima managed to lift his eyes again,

318

he was met with Sagawa's knuckles, his head whipped to the side
with a sickening “crack!” His jaw was nearly knocked out of
alignment, and he tried rolling it back properly. “Fuck'n... ow...”

“You think you're being funny, Majima-chan?” No hiding behind a
coy facade now. Sagawa was pissed. He held his nose, his hands now
soiled. “Maybe I should take out that other eye of yours? Would you
be laughing then? Huh?”

Majima snorted, his head lolling heavily to one side. “Sure, sure...
Hey... maybe I'd get'a new nickname...” He flashed his stained red
teeth. “Blind Bat Majima... Heh heh... Eeeeh he he hee.” He giggled,
his sore jaw twisting uncomfortably. “See cause... cause I use a bat...
ah ha ha...”

“Fucking lunatic...” Sagawa turned to the vanity and rummaged
around, presumably for a bandage of some kind.

Majima only laughed harder. “Yer the one who wanna fuck my
crazy shit, Sagawa!” He rolled his head back against the headboard to
rest as the door opened. A new man in a pinstripe suit, one Majima
didn't recognize, addressed Sagawa quickly.

“Sir,” he said, bowing his head. “We've canvased the area. No sign
of him.”

“Well canvas again,” Sagawa snapped, affixing a gauze bandage
on his nose. “We can't risk that idiot getting in contact with the Tojo
Clan.”

Majima hummed, swaying his hips. It'd been a while since he'd
done anything harder than liquor. Not since he'd become a patriarch,

319

anyway (those 80's disco clubs were coke factories). He forgot how
nice downers felt. Licking his lips frequently, he purred out: “N'don't
ferget 'bout Kirrrryu-chaaan.” He rolled those R's a little extra hard
and twittered with glee. “He's gonna beeeeat youuuur aaaass.”

What little patience Sagawa had left was burned to a crisp, and
his underling went stiff at the sight. “Urm... does he mean Kiryu
Kazuma? A-as in the Fourth Chairman of the Tojo Clan...?” Sagawa
whipped around to Majima, glaring.

“Relax, Saijo-san.” Sagawa's voice was like poison. He refused to
take his eyes of Majima as he spoke. “Our little puppy here is just
trying to scare us. Kiryu Kazuma is on Okinawa. By the time he gets
here, we'll have the green light to vacate into Omi HQ.” Sagawa
approached Majima, and while he was sure to keep his face away
from Majima's teeth, he tugged him back up to his knees by the
collar.

“Besides... Kiryu Kazuma isn't coming, even if he does find out.”
Majima's twitching smile fell into a struggle between fear and fury. “If
I were him, I wouldn't lift a finger to help the man who cheated
behind my back.” It took everything Majima had to twist his face into
a sneer.

“But... yer not him. Yer not him, and y'never will be...”
Sagawa's cruel eyes narrowed. Without warning, he slammed the
back of Majima's head into the wall, and Majima cried out, slumping
back down to the pillows. Sagawa turned, waving the underling off.
With a swift bow, they were left alone. Majima managed to lift his

320

aching face just as Sagawa pulled something from his front pocket. A
small, personal camera. Sagawa lifted it with one hand, making sure
to capture every inch of Majima's shame as he could.

“Say 'cheese,' Majima-chan.”
Click.

◈◈◈
“...That's about all we know for now.”
“I see. And you're sure it's this Sagawa Akito person?”
“I don't know who else it could be. Even if he wasn't being held at
The Grand, I don't know anyone else who has the balls to try and
kidnap Majima-no-niisan.”
Daigo leaned back in his seat, his brow knit in worry. “You have a
point,” he said. The conversation fell into silence, and Kiryu let his
eyes drift to the dark window between them.
Daigo's plane was small, with room enough for about ten
passengers, maximum. Kiryu, of course, had flown on plenty of
private jets in his day. The same could not be said for the Ryudo boys.
But while Rikiya tried to maintain at least some modicum of
professionalism by sticking to his seat next to Kiryu, Mikio was too
mesmerized by the rest of the cabin. He tested every seat for
softness, fiddled with the private TV screens, and when the
stewardess came by with snacks, Mikio took one of everything.
Currently, he was enjoying his buffet of high end snacks while he
thumbed through the in-flight movies. Rikiya, with the conversation
on pause, leaned over the aisle and snapped.

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“Mikio! This isn't a vacation. Show some respect to the
Chairman!”

Mikio jumped out of his skin, nearly spilling the open bag of
peanuts in his hand. “B-but Rikiya-aniki! When are we ever going to
ride on a plane this nice again?”

“It's fine,” said Daigo, holding up his hand. He addressed Rikiya
directly. “So, you're the captain of the local chapter in Okinawa? Is
that correct?”

Rikiya bowed in his seat, humbly. “Yes, sir!” When he sat up
straight, he retained his determined expression. “We're a small
family, sir, but we're proud. We do our best to uphold the honor of
Okinawa.”

Daigo took his time responding. “That's a heavy burden to bare. I
commend you for your resolve.”

Rikiya bowed his head again. “Thank you, sir!”
Kiryu, momentarily distracted, flashed Daigo a little smirk.
“Spoken like a true chairman, Daigo-san.”
Finally, that veneer of propriety cracked, and a little of the old
Daigo slipped out, smiling. “Don't tease me, Kiryu-san. I've put in a
lot of effort to sound this dry.”
Kiryu held up his hand. “Not teasing,” he said. His eyes warmed.
“It just seems like only yesterday you were some irresponsible kid
wasting his life at clubs. Now look at you.”
“Oy, oy.” Daigo playfully swatted the air. “No bringing that stuff up
around your friends, Kiryu-san. You'll embarrass me.”

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“Sorry.” Kiryu's smile faded, and he once again returned to staring
out the window. A deafening silence fell between the men. Yes. So
much had changed in the few months since leaving Tokyo. Daigo was
fulfilling his duties, the Tojo Clan was staying afloat, for now. He
wondered how much of those changes, if any, could be attributed to
Majima.

Kiryu left Majima with the task of keeping Daigo out of trouble,
and away from traitors. It was daunting, and one that no doubt
required constant vigilance. Like Kiryu, Majima was nearly out of the
game himself by the time he left. He could have gone on with his
construction company. Made a name for himself in the legal world.
Kiryu often told himself that Majima wouldn't have been happy as a
legitimate business man. That he was born for the life of a yakuza.
And yet, the more he told himself that, the more Kiryu felt that he
was merely trying to assuage his own guilt with excuses.

Left alone with his thoughts, Kiryu wondered how different things
would be if he hadn't pressured Majima into going back. Sure, he had
his family now. But did he even want it? Or had Kiryu used his
influence to force Majima back into Hell while he escaped to
paradise? And now, with the situation being what it was, Kiryu was
sick with regret. No matter how he phrased it, no matter what
reasoning he gave, his thoughts always lead him to the same place:

I'm no different than Sagawa.
“Uh... Aniki...?” Rikiya's timid tone brought Kiryu back, and he
turned to him. “Are you all right?”

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“I'm fine.”
“Then uh...” Rikiya's eyes lowered, and Kiryu followed. He hadn't
noticed, but while thinking, Kiryu's hand had grasped the seat divider
between his and Rikiya's chairs. His knuckles were white, and his
fingers had actually managed to crack the plastic around the cup
holder. Kiryu released it.
“Ah... sorry,” he said, surveying the damage. “I can pay to have it
fixed—”
Daigo shook his head. “Don't bother. It's not important...” He
leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Kiryu-san...” He
waited until Kiryu met his eyes. “I want you to know that we won't
rest until Majima-san is safe. I promise you.”
Kiryu nodded, though it felt like a hallow gesture. “Yes. Thank
you, Daigo-san.” For the rest of the flight, Kiryu kept to himself. His
mind drowned with worry. Majima, he thought. Please hang on just
a little bit longer.

◈◈◈
The pictures went on for hours. If Sagawa had been anyone else,
he would have been satisfied with a few snaps and nothing more. But
no. This was a labor of love for the man. And so he spent his evening
fixing Majima like a doll, bending and twisting his body to his liking.
The high of the morphine wore off within half an hour, leaving
Majima with a disgusting, slimy feeling in its wake. If he had anything
in his stomach, he probably would have puked a while ago. But
Sagawa was smart. He was sure to only drip-feed Majima a little

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water to keep him from passing out. Not enough to need the toilet,
but enough to keep him functioning.

Half way through their photo shoot, Sagawa pulled out the
accessories. Along with the endless shibari rope, Sagawa had at his
disposal a collection of toys and vibrators, which he rotated in and
out of use. Clasps that dug at Majima's skin, and battery powered
motors that left him chaffed and irritated. Any pleasurable reaction
from Majima's body was purely physiological. Unlike the last time,
where Majima could ignore reality for pleasure, there was no delight
to be had in Sagawa's twisted play. There was no euphoria hiding
behind the pain, no promised release that kept him invested. So,
Majima resolved to shut off his brain for now. Get it over with, deal
with the consequences after the fact.

Sagawa removed something from Majima's body, making his skin
shudder in disgust. Majima had no will to keep track of everything
Sagawa used. He felt warm lubricant trickle down to the bed sheets,
which were no doubt ruined with fluids by now. Currently, Majima
was turned on his side, his hands back in those irritating, metal cuffs.
His legs were hog tied together, tight enough in some places that bits
of skin broke beneath the knots. Majima couldn't see what Sagawa
was doing, but hearing the camera snap more pictures informed him
that he'd know eventually.

“How do we feel, Majima-chan?” That soothing tone only grated
on Majima's nerves. The bed compressed as Sagawa hovered over

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Majima from behind. He ran his fingertips down the sweat that licked
Majima's irezume. “Do you want to take a break?”

Majima scoffed. “You tryin' to butter me up?” he croaked. His
voice was dry and used.

“Well I'm not a monster,” Sagawa said.
“Beg to differ...”
Sagawa sighed. He set the camera on the bedside table and sat
upright on the sheets. “I really wish you came alone to that party,” he
mused. “I know it doesn't feel like it, but I care for you, Majima-chan.
I ran us meeting for the first time in my head again and again. All I
wanted was to get you to feel for me what you felt for my uncle. This
nasty business for the Omi aside... I hope that one day you can see
that.”
Majima lingered. It'd been a while since he'd been presented
with that huge of a pile of horse shit. Such a long while, in fact, that
for a moment, he didn't know how to process it. “You want me to
love you?” he husked. “Is that what you're getting at?”
Sagawa gently pet the buzzed hairs on Majima's undercut.
“Everyone knows you went back to the Tojo because Kiryu-san asked
you to. What kind of a life is that? Forced to accept responsibility you
never asked for. Knowing every day that you are meant to protect
and serve an organization that wronged you so deeply...” Sagawa's
fingers ran the length of the tie on Majima's eye patch. “Wouldn't
you like to be free of that burden? Of those expectations?” Again,
Majima took his time to answer. He teetered backwards until he

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managed to roll onto his back. He stared at Sagawa, his eye dead
blank.

“You want me to feel for you how I felt for Sagawa-san?” Majima
clarified. “Sagawa-san was my handler. My owner. How do you think I
felt about him?”

Sagawa's face twitched. “You can't tell me you felt nothing,” he
said. “I saw it, that day. I saw your face as Ojisan bent you over.”

Majima cracked a weary smile. “And that one look... that one look
told you everything you needed to know about me and Sagawa-san?”
He closed his eye, relaxing into the sheets. “Sotenbori wasn't a
vacation. It was my cell. Sagawa-san was my warden. What happened
between us was never 'love,' Akito-chan. It was a service provided.
Interest on the loan of my life.” When Majima opened his eye back
up, he did so with distinct prejudice. “I hated him. Just how I hate
you, Akito-chan. No matter what you do... No matter how you twist
and shape your reality, that will remain the same. Always.”

This time, Sagawa didn't lash out. He didn't strike Majima, or drug
him, or say something vicious. He just sat there, staring. Looking for
cracks in the truth. None showed. Funny enough, Majima had always
been an honest person. Probably the most honest of his entire clan,
besides Kiryu. So when Majima bore holes into Sagawa's soul,
Sagawa knew what he was looking at. Undeniable, unquestionable
fact.

There was a knock at the door. Sagawa didn't bother looking up.
“Boss,” came a voice, “we got him.”

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Majima finally turned his head away, staring off into nothingness.
Sagawa stood upright. “Good. I'll be down in a moment.” The echoes
of the man's footsteps were all that answered him. Sagawa fixed the
buttons on his jacket, straightening himself out.

“Majima-chan.” Neither man turned to look. “Hate me all you
want. I would rather have your anger than nothing at all.” His head
tilted just so over his shoulder, and he spoke in a voice Majima could
barely pick up. “You are mine. No matter the cost.” With that, he
stepped through the door, closing and locking it on his way out.

Down below, Nishida was currently propped up in a booth,
guarded by handful of yakuza. He was tied tightly with fraying rope,
and his face held more than his fair share of purple bruises. One of
his eyes was now swollen, and he had a nasty cut on his lower lip.
Despite the ware and tear, Nishida didn't look ready to put up a fight.
Quite the opposite, in fact. When they found him, Nishida was
prepared to come quietly. But apparently, after the wild goose chase
he gave them, the Omi thugs had more than a little steam to let out.
Nishida would be shocked if he didn't have a broken bone
somewhere on him. If I live, he thought to himself, I'm asking the
boss for a raise...

Footsteps echoed against the open air of The Grand, and Nishida
looked up. Down came Sagawa Akito, fixing his cufflinks as he walked.
Nishida gulped, shrinking with every inch Sagawa closed between
them. Finally, Sagawa stopped just a foot away, his face impassive.
“Welcome back, Nishiyama.”

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“I-it's Nishida, sir...”
“You gave my boys a run for their money,” Sagawa
complemented. “For a man of your... caliber... I have to say I'm
impressed.” Sagawa leaned forward, eyes piercing through Nishida's
fear. “Tell me something, Nishiyaki. While you were out... you didn't
happen to make any phone calls, did you?” Nishida hunched his
shoulders, but said nothing. “It's bad enough that you tricked one of
my boys. But if I found out that you went behind my back like that...”
Sagawa shook his head, straightening up. “I'd be very upset,
Nishoda.”
“I...” Nishida shook his head, staring down at his feet. “No, sir.”
When Sagawa didn't respond, Nishida drooped his head further
down. “I tried. But your men took my phone. I couldn't remember
anyone's number.” Nishida chanced a look upwards. Sagawa looked
strangely bored, and gestured to his men. They scooped Nishida up
by the armpits. “Sir, please. I won't run away again.”
“Of course you won't,” Sagawa agreed. “Because I'm tripling your
guard. And when we get you to Omi HQ, I'll let my bosses decide
what they want to do with you.” He straightened the tie around his
collar, casually. “Don't want to kill you if we don't have to. It makes
for sour business practices.”
“K-kill?” Nishida stuttered. Before he could ask any further
questions, the yakuza dragged Nishida back to the cellar door where
his uncomfortable pipes sat in waiting. Before completely taken off
The Grand's show floor, however, Nishida glanced behind him.

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Sagawa hadn't moved, and most of his body was turned away from
Nishida's line of sight. But for a split second, Nishida caught a strange
expression from Sagawa's profile. It wasn't worry. Or fear. Or even
anger. As Nishida was dragged down into the darkness, a strange
revelation came to him.

Sagawa had been staring up at the office door, a look of
heartbreak on his face.

◈◈◈
The Grand had always been a corner stone of Sotenbori. Its very
size cinched the whole city together, like a massive, neon lynch pin. It
was the longest standing cabaret in Osaka, and with how well it
performed, perhaps all of Japan. The building itself was massive.
Bigger than any other club had dared to be. There were times where
it felt almost too big to ever shut its doors. Which was why seeing
those windows dark on a Sunday night was staggering. Regular
customers walked up to the glass doors, only to see a “closed for
repairs” sign and turn away. But, despite how suspicious, no one
thought to make a stink. Namely because of the scary looking men in
suits who loitered by the front door, waiting for anyone to file a
complaint.
It was in this state of affairs that Kiryu found The Grand. He didn't
even bother waiting for the taxi to fully stop before he rolled out and
headed straight for the club's doors. Ignoring the shady looking
group of men all together, he went directly to the front and tugged

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on door handles. The locks held tight. By now, the suited men were
on alert, and starting to fan out around them.

“Aniki!” Rikiya called out as he, Mikio and Daigo hurried to Kiryu's
side. “Any luck?”

“No,” said Kiryu. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around his
knuckles. His dragon was now exposed for all to see. “Fortunately,
the doors are glass. Makes this easier.”

“Excuse us, gentlemen.” The four turned as the suited men
advanced. “The Grand is closed. We ask that you come back another
time.” Rather than answering, Kiryu turned to face the door. With his
shirt protecting his hand, Kiryu sent a haymaker into the glass. The
impact fractured the door like a spider web, but it remained in tact.
Kiryu reared back for another strike.

“Hey!” One of the men advanced on Kiryu, but didn't make it far.
Daigo, acting swiftly, knocked the man away with a right hook. That
opened the flood gates. The men pounced on Kiryu and his allies, but
between Daigo and the Ryudo boys, Kiryu had enough time to send
his fist through the glass door, clearing their way forward.

Rikiya, struggling with one of the suits in a headlock, shouted out.
“Go, Aniki! We got 'em out here!”

No complaints from Kiryu. Moving swiftly, he slid through the
shattered door and into the cabaret. Where, and he was not the least
bit surprised, he found a slew of guards waiting for him, bats and
chains at the ready. Kiryu squared off his shoulders, unafraid. “Where
is Majima-no-niisan?” he demanded. The men only laughed, slowly

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closing in on Kiryu. That is, until one of them got a good look at his
face.

“W-wait a minute...!” He threw his hand out to his comrades.
Kiryu could see terror behind his tacky aviators. “Th-that's—! That's
the Dragon of Dojima!” Realization hit the rest, and that confidence
drained out of the men as quickly as it had come.

“Tell me where Majima-san is,” Kiryu continued, “and I won't
break every bone in your body.”

While the thug who spoke was more inclined to comply, another
stepped forward, trying to save face. “Fuck that!” he snarled. “I don't
care who this fucker is! I'm gonna tear him limb from limb!”

Kiryu tilted his head, cracking his neck. “Fine.” He was on them in
an instant. Despite the numbers leaning out of his favor, Kiryu was
next to unstoppable. For every man who stepped up, two went
flying. Kiryu pulled no punches, and blood and teeth showered the
floor of The Grand in spades. When he'd grown tired of just using his
knuckles, Kiryu pulled a table from one of the booths, only to bring it
down onto the last remaining men standing. Their terrified faces
were permanently affixed as they collapsed beneath its weight. Men
now scattered at his feet, Kiryu addressed The Grand as a whole.
With a deep breath, he thundered out: “SAGAWA!”

Sagawa did not answer him. Instead, a flow of new men funneled
out from the cellar door. Kiryu cracked his knuckles and limbered up
his limbs. Looks like he still had a bit of shit to wade through before
reaching the king sewer rat.

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Meanwhile, eyes were certainly on the situation downstairs.
Sagawa, keeping to the shadows, watched as Kiryu mopped the floor
with every single man at Sagawa's disposal. His cool facade was
fading, as he realized with increasing dread that it was only a matter
of time before Kiryu made his way upstairs.

Sagawa hurried back into the champagne room, locking the door
tightly behind him. Majima, slumped to one side, watched Sagawa
desperately go through a drawer to his left. Through the door, he
could hear the unmistakable sounds of Kiryu Kazuma bringing the
goddamn house down. Majima grinned through his drug addled
haze.

“I tooooold you,” he sang.
Sagawa turned around and slapped Majima across the face,
which only made Majima laugh. “Shut up!” he snapped.
“You're so fuuuuuucked.” Majima rolled onto his back, closing his
eye in the process. The sounds of breaking furniture was like music to
Majima's ears, and he hummed with delight. “I can't wait to see
Kiryu-chan rip you to pieces...”
“Too bad you won't get that chance.” Majima cracked his eye
open, and saw what Sagawa was looking for. Duct tape. Yanking off a
piece, he stretched it over Majima's mouth. He then pulled
something silver and shiny from the jacket laying over the corner arm
chair. A thrill of fear took a hold of Majima as he recognized Sagawa's
.33mm pistol. Sagawa slipped out the magazine, checked the
cartridge, and slammed it back into the handle.

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“You already hate me,” he said, undoing the safety. “What's a
little more animosity between us, Majima-chan?” Sagawa looked up
to see Majima now fighting his binds with every ounce of strength he
had. Sagawa strut over to where Majima lay and grabbed him by the
hair. He showed Majima the pistol up close. Majima could smell the
tang of the gunmetal.

“You and I? We wait right here. And when Kiryu-san walks
through that door...” Sagawa raised the gun, pointing it at the door
frame. It was aimed perfectly for a man just Kiryu's height. “Bang.”
Sagawa laid his finger along the barrel and pressed the gun flat on
Majima's chest. He leaned forward, feeding off of the agony in
Majima's eye. “I'm sure you've seen men die, Majima-chan. You don't
get this far without it.

“I wonder... what kind of man will Kiryu-san be when he breathes
his final breath?”

Down below, Kiryu had taken care of the new tidal wave of men,
and now high-tailed it towards the cellar door. He flew down the
stairs, where a handful of Omi thugs waited for him. The minute his
foot touched the floor, they sprang into action. Kiryu dodged most of
their oncoming attacks with ease, until one of them managed to get
in a lucky shot with an industrial chain wrapped around his knuckles.
It struck him hard in the chest and he flew back, crashing into the
wall behind him.

Dizzy, he fell to his knees. However, he had no time to catch his
breath as, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a foot head his

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direction. Kiryu barely rolled out of the way before it made contact,
but it only put him in the direct line for another heel to the face.
Kiryu acted quickly. He managed to take a hold of the boot just
before it made contact, Kiryu caught the man's foot, and with his
muscles straining, he twisted. The thug went spinning like a top, and
collapsed in a breathless heap next to him. Kiryu jumped to his feet,
and in no time at all, managed to cut through the other two like
butter.

When the final man fell, Kiryu scanned the cellar. “Majima!?”
“F-Fourth Chairman—!” A timid voice drew Kiryu's attention and
he hurried forward. Nishida was bound to a chair, sporting a few new
blooming bruises. “Thank God you've come!”
“Nishida-san.” Kiryu pulled the butterfly knife from his pocket,
flipped it open, and cut through Nishida's binds with ease. Once he
was free, Kiryu put the knife away and helped him to his feet.
“Where's Majima-no-niisan? Where's he keeping him?”
“I'm not sure,” Nishida admitted. “B-but it might be upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
“Yes. Earlier, I saw Sagawa come down the steps from the top
right. He's got to be there.”
Kiryu nodded. “Will you be fine on your own?”
“Yes, sir.” Nishida bowed his head. “Thank you, Forth Chairman.
Please, rescue the boss!”
“On it.” Kiryu raced back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Emerging from the cellar, he saw a third wave of men file in, only this

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time, they were being tag-teamed by Daigo, Rikiya, and Mikio. It was
a chaotic mess of fists and sweat. Rikiya and Daigo did their best to
take down as many as they could possibly reach, while Mikio flung
himself onto the nearest man and held on for dear life, trying to drag
him down.

Kiryu wasted no time. Running fast, he vaulted over the mass of
bodies, nearly tumbling on the other side. He was ready to make his
way up the stairs, when he saw a rather large thug wielding a
crowbar standing in Kiryu's way. Kiryu dug his heels into the ground,
and launching forward, he threw his body weight into the thug. They
struggled, and Kiryu felt the crowbar come down on his back, hard.

Kiryu didn't relent. With a great yell, he summoned all of his
strength to judo-flip the gangster over his head and into the floor.
Kiryu took a moment, a little winded. Once he'd caught his breath, he
hurried up the steps towards a row of doors. He started kicking them
open. The first three were totally empty, sans the one or two thugs
too terrified to take on Kiryu earlier. But finally, coming to the door at
the end of the hall, Kiryu slammed it open to find none other than
Majima, bound and gagged, on a black silk bed. The look of fear on
his face was palpable.

“Majima!”
BANG!
Kiryu had only just stepped in when the gunshot went off.
Majima screamed against his gag, violently squirming. Kiryu almost
didn't feel the bullet at first. It was like a pinch or a bug bite. But

336

when he looked down, he saw a vivid red stain on the left side of his
body. The bullet had dug itself into the side of his stomach. Seeing it
seemed to green light the pain, and suddenly, Kiryu was overrun with
the cold burn of his wound. Kiryu grasped the injury, his legs going
weak. He collapsed onto the carpet, trying to regain his breath. His
head spinning, he looked up.

Smoking gun in hand, Sagawa stepped into the light. His face was
cold and calculating, and Kiryu realized quickly that Sagawa hadn't
meant to kill him just yet. He turned to Majima, who was straining
against his ropes like a madman. Sagawa walked over to Majima and
yanked him up by the hair. He forced Majima to look at Kiryu, who
was going woozy from the blood loss.

“How about it, Majima-chan?” he asked quietly. “Should I put
Kiryu-san out of his misery? The great Dragon of Dojima, gunned
down for trying to save his gay lover? What will the family think of
their living legend once they piece it all together, I wonder? Of
course...” Sagawa tilted Majima's face to look at him. “I could always
let him live. So long as Kamurocho Hills goes to the Omi. And you...”
He ran his finger down Majima's face. “...go to me.”

Kiryu grit his teeth, leaning on his good side. “Don't you touch
him...”

“Oh?” Sagawa turned to Kiryu, resting the shaft of his gun against
Majima's jaw. “Or you'll do what, exactly? I'm not a fool, I know how
you handled my men. But that was before I started poking holes in
you, Kiryu-san.” Sagawa pet Majima's hair, watching Kiryu with a

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bored expression. “What can you do now when you can hardly
move?”

Kiryu took a few deep, steadying breaths. His eyes closed, and he
gripped his bloody side as tightly as he could manage. Getting over
gunshots was hard, but not impossible. He focused on his breathing.
Compressed the pain into a tiny, compact ball, and buried it. In a
smooth, steady motion, Kiryu rose to his feet. When his eyes opened
again, he focused on Sagawa. The man was utterly terrified. Kiryu
took a step, and Sagawa wildly fired.

“Stop!” The bullet missed Kiryu by miles. Kiryu continued walking
forward. Sagawa shot again. This time, the bullet winged his
shoulder. Kiryu pulled back, momentarily staggered by the sudden
pain, but just as before, he pushed it aside and continued forward.
Sagawa was starting to panic.

“Stop... stop!” He fired two more times. Both missed. He fired
again. The third bullet grazed Kiryu's thigh. He didn't even bother
pausing this time. By the time Kiryu was standing over Sagawa, his
hands were drenched in sweat, and the gun shook so bad it nearly
slipped from his fingers. In one last attempt, Sagawa raised the gun
straight to Kiryu's chest. Kiryu grabbed it before he got a chance to
fire and threw it across the room. Sagawa collapsed onto the floor.

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“Wh...what kind of man are you?!” Sagawa cried.
Kiryu didn't answer that. He looked over at Majima, who had
watched the whole thing. Bound, gagged, drugged up, naked. A new
burst of fury burned within Kiryu's chest. Kiryu turned his eyes to
Sagawa. With every passing second, color drained from Sagawa's
face, until he was white as a sheet.
Kiryu reached down, grabbing Sagawa with one hand. Pinning
him against the wall, he hoisted him up until he was a foot off the
ground, scrambling for air. Sagawa tried slapping Kiryu's hand away,

339

but it didn't so much as make Kiryu flinch. Without a word, Kiryu
pulled Sagawa off the wall and lobbed him across the room.

He banged into the wall so hard it left an indent, and then
collapsed onto the floor. Kiryu didn't bother going after him. A
younger Kiryu might have beaten Sagawa into pulp. Taken out every
drop of rage on the asshole who thought he could hurt the ones
Kiryu cared for most. But Kiryu didn't descend on Sagawa, fire in his
eyes. Instead, he turned to Majima.

With quick hands, he cut the ropes around his wrists and feet,
and carefully pulled away the tape from his mouth. Majima gasped as
Kiryu took him into his arms. Majima choked out one word, and only
one.

“K...Kazuma...”
Setting Majima onto his feet, Kiryu kept his arm around his waist
as he helped get Majima back into his clothes. He worked quickly, but
his hands were gentle. Majima, strung out from all the doses Sagawa
put through his body, could barely do a button, and was grateful for
Kiryu's assistance. Once he was decent, Kiryu threw Majima's arm
over his shoulders.
“Are you ok to walk?” That bullet wound was starting to take its
toll, and Kiryu doubted he could carry Majima very far without help.
Majima nodded, and he let his head droop against Kiryu's chest.
“Okay. Let's get you to a hospital...”
“W-wait...” Majima grasped at Kiryu's shoulder. “Th...the
camera.”

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“Camera?” Majima pointed to the vanity. There was Sagawa's
camera, untouched. Sagawa snapped his head up from the floor.

“No—!” He jumped to his feet, only to realize that his ankle was
broken. With a painful yell, he collapsed again, clutching his leg. Kiryu
and Majima limped to the camera, and Kiryu swiped it. Turning it on,
he went through the pictures. Rage lit up every corner of his face.
Every new photograph fanned the flames, and slowly, Kiryu turned
his murderous eyes to where Sagawa lay, crumpled.

“Why...?” Kiryu growled. “Why do this?”
“It's... it's for the Hills,” Majima muttered. “He was going to...
blackmail me. Make me give up the project to the Omi.”
Kiryu twitched. His eyes hadn't left Sagawa, who was now staring
at the floor, as if awaiting his fate. Kiryu wasted no time. He turned,
and with his free hand, smashed the camera into the wall. It took a
few good hits before collapsing into spare parts and shattered glass.
Kiryu let the destroyed pieces fall to his feet. Sagawa shuddered, his
whole body shaking in fear and frustration.
“Fine...” Sagawa flinched at the pain, digging his fingernails into
the carpet. “Take him, then. It's only a matter of time before he finds
someone else.” Despite his fear, Sagawa flashed Kiryu a bloody smile.
“He's a dog, Kiryu-san. A bastard whore only out to serve his own
interests. Is this really who you're going to give your heart to after
everything he put you through?”
“You're wrong.”

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Both Sagawa and Majima looked up, surprised at Kiryu's calm
tone of voice. Still cradling Majima with one arm, Kiryu turned to
Sagawa. “Majima-no-niisan is a good man. He's made mistakes, yes.
We're human. It's in our nature. But do you know what he did,
Sagawa-san? When he realized he couldn't save me the pain of those
mistakes? He looked me in the eye. He told me the truth. Majima-san
owned up to what he did, and fully accepted the consequences. He
could have kept me in the dark. I might have never found out
otherwise. Instead, he sacrificed his own happiness to do what was
right.” Sagawa stared, and Kiryu kept his gaze, unflinching. “Majima is
worth a thousand of you, and more. You couldn't even begin to
measure up.”

Majima's heart clenched. He stared up at Kiryu, his lower lip
starting to tremble. “Kazuma...” Kiryu glanced down at Majima.
Holding him close, Kiryu turned, and the two limped their way
towards the open door.

“No... no!” Blinded by rage, Sagawa scrambled for the discarded
pistol. He forced himself up onto his good knee and held up the gun.
“Don't you dare! I'll fucking kill you both!” Sagawa white-knuckled
the grip for dear life, but before that sweaty finger could touch the
trigger—

Bang!
“AGH!”
Sagawa slumped over, now clutching his other leg. Kiryu and
Majima looked over to the door to see none other Nishida, clinging

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to a stolen gun with both hands. He looked about ready to pass out,
but bless him, he stayed on his feet.

Majima suddenly broke into laughter, fist in the air. “YEAH!” he
cheered. “That's my boy!”

Looking ready to lose his lunch, Nishida scrambled over to
Sagawa and pulled the gun from his hands. Now holding two guns
and not looking like he had the faintest idea what to do with them,
he turned. “Y-you all right, boss?”

“Yeah.” He was interrupted by a groan from Kiryu, and he turned.
The adrenaline was wearing off, and if Kiryu didn't see a doctor soon,
it wouldn't be good. Majima turned to Nishida. “Call an ambulance.”

“Yes, sir!”
The ambulance came within the next few minutes, and before
long, Kiryu and Majima were transported to Osaka General Hospital,
where they were admitted quickly. Kiryu's surgery was quick and
easy. The bullet, fortunately, hit nothing important and didn't get too
far. Majima, on the other hand, needed a serious de-tox if he was
going to keep from OD-ing on all the shit Sagawa shot him up with.
Daigo managed to pull a few strings to keep the police out of the
issue, and the two men were given a room to themselves. Rikiya and
Mikio, proud of their battle bruises, had of course insisted that they
stay by Kiryu's side. But after the third time dozing off, Kiryu
convinced Daigo to buy the three of them a room for the night. By
the time they were left alone, it was nearly three in the morning.
Neither Kiryu nor Majima felt the need to sleep. They listened to the

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ticking clock, their beds parallel to each other. Majima glanced at
Kiryu, who was staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.

“Hey,” Majima said. Kiryu looked over. “Did you really mean what
you said back there?”

“What...?”
“About... about me.” Majima looked away, picking at his IV drip.
“What you said to Sagawa...”
Kiryu's face softened. “Yes. Of course I did.”
Somehow, that didn't make Majima any happier. He flicked his
eye towards Kiryu. “How come?” he asked. “Ain't you sore about all
this? Any way you slice it, this is on me.”
Kiryu sighed through his nose. “Majima-san.” They looked at each
other. “I'm still angry.”
Majima's heart sank and he glanced away. “Oh.”
“But,” Kiryu continued carefully, “what I said tonight wasn't a lie. I
don't just love you, Majima-san. I value you. I respect you. And even
though we got a lot of work ahead of us to fix this, I know I'll be able
to trust you again someday.” Kiryu looked over to gauge Majima's
reaction, but was met with a look of innocent surprise. Kiryu blinked.
“What?”
Majima stared for a moment. “Kiryu-chan. You realize what you
just said?”
“Huh?” Kiryu frowned. “About me trusting you some day?”
“No, the other thing.”
“I value you?”

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“No—” Majima gathered himself and folded his arms. “You
dumbass. That was the first time you ever said the big one.”

“The what?”
“The big—!” Majima flailed. “You know! The big L!”
“The big L...?” Kiryu racked his brain. “'Lie'? I've said lie before.”
“Oh my God.” Majima pinched his nose, smiling in spite of
himself. “You are fucking hopeless, you know that, Kiryu-chan?”
Without any further ado, Majima pulled the covers from his bed and
slid out. With the help of his rolling IV holder, he waddled his bare
ass around to Kiryu's bedside. His eye was warm as he nudged Kiryu's
arm.
“Move over, you big ox.” Kiryu did so, and Majima curled into bed
next to him, resting on the side without the gunshot. Majima laid his
ear against Kiryu's chest, hearing his heartbeat underneath. “Love,
you idiot. That was the first time you said you loved me.”
Kiryu stalled. “It... it was...?” He covered his mouth in thought,
staring out the window. “But I... of course I do. I must have said it
before. I thought I said it... mm...?” He rubbed his forehead, his
cheeks now glossing over with pink. “I was sure... for your birthday...”
Majima laughed. Hoisting himself up, he kissed Kiryu gently.
“Looks like we both got stuff to work on. Huh?” Majima's smile tinted
over with sadness, and he burrowed his head under Kiryu's chin. “I
promise you. I swear on my life I'll be worth it.”

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Kiryu's embarrassment faded away. “Majima-san...” Reaching up,
he wrapped his arms around Majima's slender waist, holding him
close.

“You already are...”

◈◈◈
It was a sweltering night in Osaka. Even with the sun out of the
sky, there was a muggy, sweaty air that stuck your clothes to your
skin. Through the streets of Sotenbori, most locals were congregating
around convenience stores to try and soak up the AC. Among the
crowd, a man walked with a cane and a heavy limp. In his free hand,
he carried groceries. A plastic bag full of instant noodles and
convenience store sandwiches. It wasn't a great diet, but hey. He was
young (ish). He could deal with it.
Reaching the bridge, he figured he could save himself from the
heat by heading down the footpath, closer to the water. As he
walked, Sagawa Akito felt a thrill up his leg. He stopped underneath
the bridge and felt his thigh. That bullet was still giving him trouble,
even months after the fact. Sighing deeply, Sagawa figured he was
due for a rest and took a seat. He massaged his leg, and the pain
began to ebb.
Once it had settled, Sagawa pulled out a freshly bought pack of
aspirin and a bottle of tea. He popped the two pills back, washed it
down with a drink, and then fumbled for his cigarettes. With one in
his mouth, he started looking for his lighter.
“Need a light?”

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The voice stalled him. Slowly, Sagawa looked up from where he
sat. A figure stood at the opposite end of the underpass. The stranger
was tall and slim, with pointed toed shoes tipped with shiny metal. A
bitter smile flickered on Sagawa's face. “Ah... Majima-chan.” Sagawa
shifted his leg with a painful wince and leaned against the back of his
bench. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Majima walked forward. Digging into his jacket, he pulled out a
lighter. Sagawa, with a chuckle, held his cigarette to his lips and
leaned forward. But rather than lighting it, Majima plucked the
cigarette from Sagawa's lips, lit it, and smoked it himself.

Sagawa lingered as Majima pocketed his lighter. “Checking to see
if you were dead yet,” Majima said, casually. “Thought that gunshot
wound mighta got infected and did you in.”

“I see.” Sagawa rubbed his thigh. “Disappointed?”
“Very.”
Sagawa chuckled. He stared out into the river. “So? You here to
finish the job then?”
Majima smoked for a moment. Sagawa wondered what kind of
wheels were turning in his head. He walked over to the railing of the
river and leaned forward, elbows first. “Do you know what the most
remarkable thing about Kiryu-chan is?” he suddenly asked.
Sagawa leaned on his cane. “I suppose you're going to tell me?”
Majima blew out a steady stream of smoke, his expression
impossible to dictate. “He's never killed anyone before. Not a soul.”

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That took Sagawa by surprise. “Really?” he said. “But didn't he do
ten years for murder?”

“He took the fall for it, yeah,” said Majima. “But Kiryu-chan never
pulled the trigger. Oh he'll rattle some bones, break some noses. I
once saw him pull up an entire electrical box and crack it over some
guy's head before. But the human body is tough. And Kiryu-chan
knows when to pull back before he crosses that line.”

“Is that right...” Sagawa ran his hands together. “The man has
some resolve.”

“He does,” Majima agreed. Finishing his smoke, he dropped it to
the ground and snubbed it with the toe of his boot. “Kiryu-chan is a
rare bread of yakuza, retired or otherwise. He's the kind that's got
standards. Morals. A fuckin' conscience . Fewer and fewer of them
these days, you know?” Majima turned to Sagawa and started
walking. “Kiryu-chan doesn't approve of snuffin' a dude out. No
matter what he's done or how rotten he is at his core. Maybe he's
hopin' to set an example. I don't know.” Majima stopped merely a
foot away from Sagawa. Despite the despicable heat, Sagawa felt a
cold sweat bud on his crown.

“But you do...?”
A sick smile twisted on Majima's lips. “You're goddamn right I do.”
From his snakeskin jacket, Majima slid his tanto into view. He
dropped the scabbard, the hallow wood clunking as it settled on the
concrete.

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“If you had stuck to fuckin' with me, I mighta let you get off with
just that bullet as a souvenir. Believe it or not, I used to think like
Kiryu-chan, once upon a time. There was a point in my life where as
much as I wanted to, I wouldn't cross that line, either.” His smile fell,
replaced by a twisted, unchecked madness. “But then you had to go
and shoot at Kiryu-chan. You had to go and shoot him... right in front
of me.” Majima ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth. “You know
how... fuckin' pissed that makes me, Sagawa?”

Sagawa could feel the sand on his hour glass start to spiral. His
hands shook, and his leg screamed in agony. There was no running,
no talking his way out of this. Sagawa watched as Majima slid oh-so
smoothly into his lap, spreading his thighs to situate himself more
comfortably. Sagawa forced a nervous smile. “M-Majima-chan. Is this
really necessary?”

Majima laid his fingers on the base of Sagawa's neck. His thumb
ran gentle circles around Sagawa's Adam's apple. What was going
through his head was a mystery. With every passing second,
Majima's smile returned to him, growing wider and more unhinged.
Majima closed his hand tightly around Sagawa's neck. Sagawa
gasped, and tried yanking Majima's hand off his neck. Majima held
on like an iron vice. With his free hand, he positioned his tanto tip
just underneath Sagawa's jaw. Sagawa's eyes bulged from his head.
With his airways cut off, he couldn't even beg for his life.

The dagger slid in like butter. Not even Sagawa's spine gave
Majima much trouble as he forced it out the other side. He let it

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linger, watching the life drain from Sagawa's bloodshot eyes. When
he was satisfied, he yanked it out. Sagawa's body gave one last gasp
for air, almost automatically, before his limp corpse collapsed onto
the bench.

Majima stared at the body and wiped the blood spatter from his
blade on Sagawa's pants. He scooped up the sheathe and covered
the blade. Majima dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a jingly
piece of leather. The collar. Turning, he tossed it into the river. As
ironic as it might have been to leave the thing on Sagawa's body, only
an idiot left their own fucking name at the crime scene.

Pocketing his knife, Majima pulled out a new cigarette and lit it.
He lingered a minute, taking in Sagawa's lifeless form. “Sagawa-san,”
he said, turning on his heel. “Tell your uncle I said hi.” Hand in his
pocket, Majima Goro strolled away, vanishing into the neon lights of
Sotenbori.

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