Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The alleyway reeked of garbage and rain-soaked despair. Sakura’s head throbbed painfully, the kind of headache that comes from too much impact and not enough time to recover. His vision blurred, and his body ached like a hundred needles had been driven into him. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head, but the pain was relentless. Everything was a clutter—the cold ground beneath him, the damp air of the alley, the overwhelming bitterness of the defeat that still clung to him.

What a mess. Again.

Sakura's parents had abandoned him when he was young, and this was the life he'd been stuck with ever since—fighting for scraps and barely making it through the day. This recent pounding was simply another day in the life. He'd been jumped by three goons who wanted his meagre money. They'd given him no chance and began swinging as soon as they laid eyes on him. It was the same scenario every time: he fought as hard as he could, but it was always a losing battle.

"Ugh—“ he groaned, shifting a little, trying to pull himself into a sitting position. But his body didn’t cooperate, and he crumpled back to the ground, his vision spinning.

But then, he heard footsteps. Not the shuffling of the usual gutter trash, but confident, purposeful steps. His heart raced for a second. Someone was coming his way. His first instinct was to hide, but his body wouldn’t move. He barely had enough strength to lift his head, let alone scramble into the shadows.

Then, the figure emerged.

A man, tall and commanding, stepped into the dim light. His gaze swept over the scene, and for a moment, Sakura thought he might be another thug looking to finish the job. But something about the man felt different—like he didn’t belong in this mess. His sharp eye was calculating, cold, and yet there was a glimmer of something—almost like curiosity.

The man’s features were striking. His dark hair, long enough to tie back, was styled effortlessly, and his clothes—impeccably tailored to fit his lean frame—suggested someone who had no interest in blending in. But the most remarkable thing about him was the eyepatch, and the single red eye that gleamed with a dark, cold intensity, exuding an air of ruthless authority.

The man crouched down, close enough for Sakura to catch the faint scent of something sharp and clean—gunpowder, perhaps, mixed with a hint of leather.

“Dead?” the man asked with a raised eyebrow, his voice smooth, almost amused.

Sakura groaned. Was this guy serious?

"Not yet, thanks for asking,” He meant it to be sarcastic, but it came out nothing more than a wheeze.

The man didn’t blink, his gaze still cold but calculating. He didn’t seem to care about the mess Sakura was in. Instead, his eyes flicked to the three thugs that had left Sakura in this state.

“Those the ones who did this to you?” the man asked, his tone still casual, as though he were discussing the weather.

Sakura struggled to sit up, but the world spun around him.

"Who else?" he snapped. He had neither the time nor the energy for a roundabout conversation with someone he couldn't tell was friend or foe.

The man didn’t respond to his words immediately. Instead, his gaze locked on the thugs. Then, without warning, he walked toward them, his movements fluid, controlled. The thugs, seeing him approach, sneered. “What’s this pretty boy think he’s gonna do?“

The man didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The first thug lunged at him, a crude knife raised. But before the thug could even get close, the man’s hand moved faster than Sakura could track. He grabbed the thug’s wrist, twisting it with a sharp snap, sending the knife clattering to the ground. With a swift knee, he knocked the thug back into the brick wall, causing him to crumple, unable to move.

Sakura blinked, his mind trying to catch up. What—what just happened?

Before the remaining two thugs could react, the man was already on them. One of them swung a fist, but the man dodged effortlessly, grabbing the thug by the arm and flipping him onto the ground with a force that left the thug gasping for air. The last thug hesitated, unsure whether to attack or run.

Sakura, still reeling from the pain, managed to watch as the man took a step toward the last thug. His movements were so fluid, so precise, that it almost seemed like a dance. With a single punch, the thug collapsed, knocked out cold.

The alley was silent now, the only sound the faint trickle of water running from a broken drainpipe. The three thugs were either unconscious or too injured to move, lying in a heap at the man’s feet.

Sakura’s mouth hung open slightly. What the hell was that? Sakura’s mind was still trying to process the speed and efficiency of what he’d just witnessed.

The man turned to him, his eye still as sharp as ever, and for a moment, there was a flicker of amusement in his gaze.

“Are you going to lie there all day?” he asked, his tone almost teasing.

Sakura scowled. “What the hell do you care?”

The man crouched down again, his expression softening just enough to be disarming.

“I saw how you fought back earlier. It was shit in general but the determination alone was charming. Most of us would have just given them what they wanted so our lives would be spared, but you, you chose to take the beating with a far-fetched dream that you could win. I don’t like wasting potential,” he said simply. “And right now, you look like a waste.”

Sakura bristled, the insult stinging more than he wanted to admit. “Thank you?” he muttered mockingly.

The man snorted out a laugh, extending a hand. “Get up,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m Suo Hayato. And you—well, let’s just say you’re coming with me.”

———

As promised—though admittedly to Sakura’s surprise—Suo returned a few days later to pick him up from the inn where he’d been working. By then, Sakura had patched himself up from his most recent beating, packed the few belongings he owned, and said his goodbyes to Kotoha, the only friend he’d made among the inn’s workers. With that, he braced himself for whatever this new life Suo gave him might bring.

Now stepping out of the car that had driven them to District 1, Sakura was bewildered to say the least. He had never set foot in District 1 before. It was a world apart from the familiar grime of Districts 4 and 5—the slums where people like him were expected to stay, scraping by on what little they could find. Back in his district, the streets were riddled with broken asphalt, piles of uncollected garbage, and the constant hum of desperation. The air smelled of stale alcohol and rotting leftovers, and the buildings looked like they’d collapse with a single gust of wind. It was a place where dreams came to die—or, more realistically, never existed in the first place.

District 1 was overwhelming. The moment Sakura stepped into its bounds, it felt like a punch to the senses. Everything here gleamed. Towering skyscrapers stretched into the clouds, their reflective glass exteriors catching the sunlight and scattering it like prisms. Sakura craned his neck so far back to take it all in that he almost stumbled over himself. He’d only ever seen buildings like these on the fuzzy screen of the television in his inn’s owner’s room, glimpsed through the narrow crack of a poorly shut door. Now, standing at their base, they seemed impossibly huge, as if they were meant for giants, not people.

Sakura couldn’t stop swiveling his head, gawking like a dog let off its leash for the first time in an open field. His eyes sparkled with a mix of amazement and disbelief, and he felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest—envy, maybe, or resentment. It was hard to say.

“Is your neck going to break from all that looking around?” Suo’s voice cut through Sakura’s daze like a sharp blade.

Sakura snapped out of his trance, glancing over at Suo, who was walking a step ahead. Now this place was where Suo should belong. The man had his long hair pulled up into a high bun today, pinned with a silver hair stick. Sakura had never seen any men with that long hair and using hair stick before, so it was intriguing to him how perfectly Suo’s hair was always styled. His tailored navy-blue suit hugged his frame perfectly, and his polished shoes clicked against the pavement with an air of authority. Every step he took seemed deliberate, as if even the ground beneath him had to bend to his will.

“Yeah, yeah, keep walking, you fancy-ass,” Sakura muttered under his breath, though his wide-eyed glances betrayed his true feelings.

Suo smirked, clearly amused. “Fancy-ass? Focus, Sakura. You’re making us look like tourists.”

“Us?” Sakura scoffed, pointing a thumb at himself. “Pretty sure it’s just me. You fit in here like a king.”

“And you?” Suo glanced back, his crimson eye twinkling with amusement. “More like a stray puppy someone dragged in.”

Sakura opened his mouth to retort but closed it again, realizing Suo wasn’t entirely wrong. He could feel the judgmental stares from passersby, their silent disapproval almost suffocating. District 1 was a different universe, one where someone like him didn’t belong. Yet, here he was, following Suo like a shadow, trying to keep up in a world that felt alien to him.

“Hey,” Suo said, his tone softening slightly as he glanced at Sakura. “Keep your head up. You’re with me now. No one’s going to mess with you.”

Sakura blinked at him, momentarily stunned. The confidence in Suo’s voice was infectious, and for a brief moment, Sakura forgot about the weight of the stares and the suffocating sense of inferiority. He straightened his back and quickened his pace, falling in step beside Suo.

"Where are we going?" Sakura asked, his tone edged with impatience. "And why are we walking?"

Suo hummed thoughtfully, his hands clasped behind his back as he glanced down at Sakura.

"I’m hungry so we’re getting dinner," he said, his voice casual, almost teasing. "It’s a small iyakaza tucked away in an alley so the car wouldn’t fit. And well, I figured a big, fancy-assed restaurant might be a bit overwhelming for you right now. Am I not right, Sakura-kun?"

Don’t call me Sakura-kun. The retort hovered on the tip of his tongue, but Sakura swallowed it down. This guy was about to buy him food, after all.

"Tch," Sakura clicked his tongue in irritation. Suo wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t have to phrase it like that.

"You look like you’re loaded, and this is the best you can do for a first date?" Sakura asked, skeptical, as they stopped outside a tiny izakaya.

The place was indeed small—even by his standards. He couldn’t believe something this normal and unassuming existed in District 1, where every corner seemed to sparkle with excess and opulence.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” Suo chided lightly, a knowing smile on his face. “Come on. You’ll be surprised.”

As they stepped inside, the quiet hum of conversation died instantly. A dozen heads turned toward them, and within seconds, every customer stood and bowed deeply. The sudden display made Sakura jump, his shoulders jerking up like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“You mean surprised by this?” he whispered sharply, leaning toward Suo as he instinctively took a step back.

“No. The menu,” Suo replied, his voice soft with amusement, before gently placing a hand on Sakura’s back. With a light push, he nudged him further into the izakaya, all while the solemn gazes of the other patrons lingered.

Only once Suo and Sakura reached a small table tucked into the corner did the customers slowly return to their seats. As if on cue, the low murmur of conversation resumed, like nothing had happened at all.

A million questions flew through Sakura’s head at full speed. What the hell is going on? Who the hell is Suo? Who are these people? What are they to him—employees? Henchmen? Cult followers? Is this some kind of human trafficking situation? No matter what the answers were, one thing was clear: Sakura was scared shitless.

He nearly leapt out of his skin when an elderly woman suddenly appeared beside their table, seemingly out of thin air, and handed them two menus.

“So you’ve brought a new boy today, Suo-san?” she said cheerfully, her warm smile a slight reassurance—though her words, on the other hand, were anything but.

A new boy? Sakura’s stomach dropped. So Suo had a habit of picking up random guys and bringing them to this shady place. Was this actually happening?

“You’re not selling me to a fucking brothel, are you?” he muttered under his breath, shooting a suspicious glare at Suo.

The old woman, however, just bursted into a laugh, clearly entertained by the outburst. “Oh, you got yourself a funny one also. I like him already,” she said with a wink at Sakura before turning and shuffling off, leaving the two alone with their menus.

Sakura whipped his head back toward Suo, who was calmly thumbing through his menu with that same infuriatingly smug smile, his eye gleaming with quiet amusement.

“I admire the confidence you have, assuming you’re pretty enough for a brothel,” Suo mused, clearly humored.

Sakura’s entire body bristled, and his hands slammed down on the table. “I don’t need to be pretty to end up in a brothel, you dickhead! It’s all the same when the lights are out!”

Suo finally looked up, locking eyes with Sakura. There was a dangerous twinkle there, something both teasing and deliberate. He leaned back slightly, his smirk widening. “Oh why, I think you’re plenty pretty, though.”

Sakura froze. His brain short-circuited, his breath catching in his throat as his face ignited with heat. This guy was unbelievable, calling him pretty and shit.

“Wha—!” He almost choked on his own spit, words failing him.

Suo chuckled at Sakura’s flustered reaction but decided to save him further embarrassment by continuing.

“I’m not selling you to a brothel, if that’s what’s concerning you the most,” Suo said, his tone light but pointed. “As for this place, it’s small because the couple that owns it is getting old. The husband is sick, so his wife runs the place alone now. They asked me for help setting up a manageable business, and this was the result. As for those customers? They’re my subordinates. Only they have the patience to wait for the food. Now that I’ve answered all your questions, could you pick your dishes now? Or we will need to wait for a long while, and I’m starving.”

Sakura blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Suo’s explanation. Then, he obediently flipped through the menu. There was something about Suo—his calm yet commanding presence—that made it difficult to resist. Suo’s answers still floated freely in Sakura’s head as he hastily rattled off his choices when the old woman returned to their table. It wasn’t until Suo’s voice cut in that Sakura realized he’d gone completely overboard.

“Are you sure you can eat all that, Sakura-kun?” Suo chuckled, eyeing the ever-growing list of dishes. “Not a single veggie in sight, huh?”

Sakura bristled but couldn’t deny it. “Man, I had veggies my whole life. People like me don’t get all-you-can-eat buffets thrown at them every day,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

A faint flush of embarrassment crept onto his face—he knew he’d gone too far. He didn’t want Suo to think he was pathetic, though part of him figured Suo probably already did from the moment they first met.

The old woman chuckled warmly, her voice cutting through Sakura’s self-consciousness. “Oh, you poor boy. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll bring all your dishes out, no matter how many.”

Her kindness soothed Sakura, if only a little, and he managed a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Suo echoed, his tone polite. Then, Suo turned his gaze back to Sakura, his expression shifting. His single eye fixed on Sakura with an almost piercing intensity, as if he were sizing him up in a way that made the younger man’s skin prickle.

“You’re an honest man, aren’t you?” Suo said suddenly, his voice low but clear.

Sakura blinked in confusion. “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that,” he muttered, unsure how ordering a mountain of meat equated to honesty.

Suo leaned back slightly, his demeanor changing. The playful glimmer in his eye faded, replaced by a steely seriousness that sent a chill through Sakura.

“Sakura-kun, from now on, you’ll never have to worry about food again. You can eat whatever you want, whenever you want.” Suo said, his tone calm yet unyielding. He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing, his voice colder now. “But in return, I’ll need your absolute loyalty.”

“You’ll buy me anything?” Sakura asked, incredulous.

Suo barked out a laugh. “That’s not the main point here. Are you really this simple-minded?”

“Well,” Sakura scratched his head sheepishly. “I don’t spend much time reflecting on my mind, but I trust my guts. As long as you give me food, you’ll have my loyalty. I’ve lived by that rule since day one, so don’t worry. What am I gonna do anyway?”

Suo leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms, amusement dancing in his eye. “You’ll be my bodyguard first.”

“You don’t already have one?” Sakura asked, just as the old lady returned with the first dish—potato salad. He wasn’t a fan of vegetables, but hunger got the better of him. He stabbed his fork into it and shoved a bite into his mouth.

“I do, technically,” Suo replied, watching him with a smirk. “His name’s Sugishita, but he’s busy looking after his previous boss, who’s in poor health. I need a replacement.”

“From what I saw back there with those thugs, you seem to handle yourself just fine,” Sakura remarked between bites.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Suo said with a chuckle. “And yes, I can handle most situations, but having a bodyguard is about appearances. If people see me without one, they’ll think I’m vulnerable, and that invites trouble. And,” His voice dipped slightly, losing its playful tone. “There’s something happening within my organization. I need to raise my guard—let’s leave it at that.”

Sakura clicked his tongue, lowering his gaze to his plate. “But I can’t even kill a fly, let alone defend anyone.” The self-doubt in his tone was impossible to miss.

“I’ll teach you how to fight,” Suo said firmly, his voice carrying a promise that felt unshakable. “You’ll never have to feel that kind of helplessness again—like the world’s chewing you up and spitting you out.”

Sakura flinched inwardly. Suo had seen right through him. He hated that feeling of defeat more than anything. But—why him?

“Why me?” he asked, the question escaping his lips before he could stop it. A million thoughts raced through his mind as the old lady returned with a plate of karaage chicken. Surely, there were others more capable. In the slums, boys his age fought tooth and nail every day. He was nothing special—nothing worth Suo’s attention.

“Because you have nowhere else to go,” Suo said, his tone cutting. “Your parents left you when you were just a kid. You don’t even know if they’re alive, and you clearly don’t care enough to find out. And you don’t want to go back to that inn to scrub dirty toilets where the guests fucked, do you?”

Suo paused, his voice sharp with disdain before continued. “Work for me, and you’ll earn enough to help your friend Kotoha, too. I’m offering you more than a job, Sakura—I’m giving you a purpose. A reason to live. I know you’ll take it.”

Suo’s words weren’t kind, but they weren’t heartless either. They hit Sakura like a hammer, breaking through walls he hadn’t even realized he’d built. His throat tightened, and his vision blurred.

“So, you’ve done your homework on me, huh?” Sakura muttered bitterly, the words tasting like ash. He hadn’t expected Suo to know so much—not just about his past, but about the ugly truths of his present and the bleakness of his future.

Suo set down his chopsticks and pulled a tissue from its holder. Without a word, he reached across the table and wiped Sakura’s nose. It wasn’t until that moment that Sakura realized he’d been crying. Maybe it was because this was the first time he had tasted something so delicious, something that wasn’t scraps left behind by strangers. Or maybe it was because Suo was right about everything.

“So,” Suo said, his voice no longer sharp, “is this a deal?”

He extended his hand—the same hand that had just wiped Sakura’s tears and snot.

Sakura hiccupped, wiping his eyes angrily with the back of his arm. He hated how weak he looked right now. He swore to himself that he would become Suo’s strongest bodyguard. Strong enough to make Suo rely on him, to make sure he could never abandon him.

“Deal,” Sakura said firmly, gripping Suo’s hand in a tight handshake.

“Good,” Suo said. His intense crimson eye softened into something almost unreadable as he released him. “Now eat up. Tomorrow, your real life begins.”

Chapter Text

Sakura stood frozen at the entrance, his eyes fixed on the sprawling estate ahead. This was supposed to be Suo’s mansion? He’d expected something flashy—a glass fortress of steel and wealth, the kind of place that screamed untouchable. Instead, what he saw looked like it had been plucked straight out of the Edo period.

The tall walls surrounding the property were the only thing remotely intimidating. Beyond them, a stone pathway meandered toward a house that oozed old-world charm—curved roofs, weathered wooden beams, sliding shoji screens. It looked more like a temple than a home.

“This is your place?” Sakura couldn’t hide the disbelief in his voice, eyes scanning the surroundings in shock.

Suo was already halfway up the path, a teasing lilt in his voice as he called back, “Disappointed? Let me guess—you were hoping for something shinier?”

“Yeah, shinier. This is more like—a haunted temple,” Sakura snorted, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he followed. “Do you even live here? Or is this your secret villain lair where you plot to take over the world?”

Suo turned just enough to shoot him a sharp grin, the kind that didn’t bother with warmth. “I don’t need to take over the world, Sakura-kun. I’m perfectly content with my empire.”

Before Sakura could come up with a comeback, the heavy gates groaned open behind them. His stomach sank as a dozen men and women in sharp black suits lined up in eerie synchronization. They bowed deeply, their voices blending into a unified greeting.

"Welcome home, Hayato-san."

The air tightened in Sakura’s chest. He blinked, his gaze darting between their rigid forms and Suo, who walked past them with casual ease. Their eyes briefly flicked to Sakura—cold, assessing—before snapping back to Suo. The scrutiny was enough to make his skin crawl. Sakura felt out of place. It was as if he didn’t belong here, like he was invisible, but also too visible at the same time.

"What the hell—" Sakura muttered, leaning closer to Suo and still shaken by the row of suited figures. "I thought you said you didn’t have any bodyguards?"

“They’re not bodyguards in the way you’re imagining,” Suo replied lightly, waving the group off without a second glance. “Their job is to manage the mansion and deal with outside affairs. Your role, however—” He paused, his crimson eye gleaming with amusement. “—is closer to me. More complicated.”

Sakura frowned. “Complicated how?”

Suo didn’t answer, just gestured for him to follow. Still reeling from the strange greeting, Sakura trailed behind, his thoughts racing. This place—it was too much.

It only got stranger inside.

The traditional exterior stopped dead at the threshold. The interior was sleek and modern, a stark contrast that left Sakura momentarily speechless. Polished wooden floors gleamed beneath soft, recessed lighting. Minimalistic furniture and muted tones gave the space a crisp, futuristic vibe. It was like stepping into a parallel world.

“This place is—” Sakura searched for the right words, his voice dropping as he took in the open living area. “—unexpected.”

Suo’s grin widened, sharp and smug. “More to your taste now?”

“Not what I’d call ’taste.’ It’s just—weird,” Sakura muttered, his eyes darting from the state-of-the-art kitchen to what looked like a training room in the distance. “I thought it’d be less serene.”

“‘Serene’ is a good disguise,” Suo said, leading him down the hall. “No need for flashy nonsense. This house is a reflection of my philosophy: traditional on the outside, modern on the inside. It’s simple, effective, and secure.”

Sakura blinked. "You don’t seem the ‘simple’ type."

Suo shrugged, giving a playful smile. "Oh I don’t? Come on, I’ll show you to your room. Try not to drool on the floors.”

Sakura scowled, muttering under his breath as he followed. His eye widened as Suo opened a door to his room. The spacious layout, polished wooden floors, and large window overlooking the garden were almost too much for him to process. A neatly made futon sat against the wall, and a small wardrobe stood to the side. His few belongings—his battered bag, a change of clothes, and a couple of personal items—had already been unpacked and placed like he had lived here for years.

He let out a low gasp, running a hand over the smooth surface of a desk in the corner.

"This is mine?" he asked, as if the word itself felt foreign.

Suo leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, watching Sakura with thinly veiled amusement. "You sound surprised. Did you think I was going to make you sleep in the garden?"

Sakura didn’t expect to get his own room, much less one this nice. He had thought he’d end up in a room with nothing but bunk beds and other men, and that would’ve been more than he could’ve asked for.

Sakura shot him a sheepish look, scratching the back of his head. "No, it’s just—" He trailed off, his gaze sweeping over the room again. "I’ve never had a room like this. At the inn I worked at, I had a makeshift bed in the kitchen corner. My pillow was a sack of rice. Sometimes I’d wake up with rats fighting over it."

Suo’s lips curled into a small smile, the irony not lost on him. "Well, congratulations. You’ve officially been promoted from kitchen rat to actual human."

Sakura rolled his eyes, though the faint pink tint spreading up his neck gave away just how overwhelmed he felt. He flopped down onto the futon, fingers grazing over the soft fabric.

"This is ridiculous. A bodyguard like me gets his own room? How loaded are you? Seriously, what do you even do for a living? Are you, like—the CEO of some huge company or something?" The words spilled out before he could stop them. Curiosity kills the cat, sure—but hey, he had the right to know exactly who he was working for.

Suo snorted a laugh and tilted his head, his crimson eye glinting. “You sure ask a lot of questions. Guess that’s on me for not spelling it out earlier—I’m an Oyabun.”

Sakura blinked, the unfamiliar term washing over him like static. "Oyabun? What’s that supposed to mean?"

“The head of the Hayato-gumi. A Yakuza organization."

The words hit Sakura like a punch to the gut. "Yakuza?" he echoed, his voice an octave higher than usual. "You meean yakuza yakuza?"

"Is there another kind?" Suo grinned, clearly enjoying his reaction.

Sakura froze for a moment, the words hanging in the air like a weight. He’d seen Suo’s commanding presence, felt the quiet authority in the way he carried himself, but the reality was hitting him all at once now. This wasn’t just a man running a business or making deals. Suo was an Oyabun. The leader of a Yakuza family.

His thoughts raced, struggling to catch up with the sheer scale of what he was hearing. This is the life Suo’s been building for years. What had seemed like a private, personal world with just the two of them was slowly shifting into something far darker. Suo’s easy confidence, his casual attitude—it was all part of something more dangerous than he had imagined. How had he not seen it before?

So he wasn’t just meant to look after Suo—he was expected to take a bullet for him. Great, now he was really in over his head. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d just signed up for a one-way ticket to chaos.

Sakura just needed to make sure what exactly he was thrusting himself into. His tone grew more serious, curiosity edging out his usual bravado.

"You said you’re an Oyabun. Does that mean your yakuza is like the ones in the books? You know, illegal deals, smuggling, or even—human trafficking?" His voice dropped, a hint of unease creeping in.

“Hmm, sure thing I can do that,” Suo said so casually as if he was talking about what they would have for dinner.

“You’re not going to sell me to some creepy gruesome underground organization that uses human as slave or even organ harvesting right?” Sakura asked, his voice inching toward hysteria.

“Well, we’re the underground organization you’ve talking about, aren’t we? And we can be as creepy and gruesome as we want or need to.” Suo paused, eyeing Sakura with a predatory grin. “Selling off young, healthy boys like you? Not beyond the realm of possibility, I suppose.”

"Fantastic,” Sakura muttered, his face paled. “Now I’m gone from one garbage pit straight into another—except this one comes with a death warrant."

Suo burst out laughing, his deep, rich voice filling the room. "You really are something, aren’t you?" He waved a hand dismissively. "I’m just kidding. And no, not all yakuza are like that, you silly thing. Not all yakuza live in the gutter."

The words hung in the air like a shadow, and for the first time, Sakura felt the weight of Suo’s presence shift. The playful teasing that usually danced between them was gone, replaced by the subtle force of someone who had seen the darkness of the world and wielded it like a weapon.

Sakura swallowed hard, realizing this wasn’t just some casual conversation. Suo was always in control. Even when he joked.

"Then what do you do?" Sakura pressed, crossing his arms. "If you’re not doing the dirty stuff, what’s the point of being in the yakuza?"

Suo tilted his head, a sly grin playing on his lips. "We do some bad things. But only to bad people."

Sakura didn’t know if he could trust Suo with whatever the hell the guy said, but he still felt a rush of relief that washed through him. At least for now, it sounded like Suo’s yakuza family didn’t incline to that path of illegal activities. As it turned out, it was worse.

"What does that even mean?"

"My organization deals in shadows—politics, corruption, power plays—things the police can’t touch because of bureaucratic red tape,” Suo said, his voice growing softer but more serious. “Sometimes, that means being the villain to fight a greater evil. It's dangerous, sure, but it has to be done. And, admittedly, it pays well."

Damn, this was even more dangerous than the traditional way. Following tradition meant risking prison or even execution in the worst-case scenario. But delving into political games? That could get them killed before sunrise—along with anyone close to them—if someone powerful enough uncovered their schemes. Not that Sakura had any relatives to worry about. His only friend was Kotoha, and hardly anyone knew about her except for Suo, who had somehow managed to stalk and spy on him since their first meeting.

Now, Sakura understood why Suo had chosen someone like him. He had nowhere to go, nothing better to do, and no one waiting for him. The realization was both bitter and oddly comforting. Sometimes, having no attachments felt like a blessing in disguise.

“The old traditional yakuza ways doesn’t pay well enough? Why you chose to do something so different and—riskier?”

"Something happened in the past that made me want to build my own yakuza family, focused on what we can do for a better society." A brief flash of hatred and fury flickered in Suo's red eye. "I’m not trying to play the hero, but I’ve got my own revenge to settle too."

So a man as powerful as Suo needed to build up something as big as a whole yakuza family to take down an enemy. And he hadn’t succeeded yet, so that person behind it all must be even more terrifying.

Sakura furrowed his brows, chewing on Suo’s words. "But—doesn’t that also make you a target? Don’t other yakuza have a problem with how you’re running things?"

"You catch on fast, don’t you?" Suo chuckled, but his tone turned wry, his eye gleaming with sharpness. "My way isn’t exactly winning me a fan club. Climbing to the top means someone always wants to drag you down. Rival yakuza families don’t like it because I’m stepping on their toes. Some of my own men think I’m straying too far from tradition. They’re probably sharpening their knives as we speak, hoping for their chance."

Sakura felt a lump form in his throat. "And you’re telling me all this and trusting me of all people to stay by your side and protect you?”

Suo gave him a lazy look before pushing off the doorframe and striding down the hallway. He didn’t bother looking back. Sakura hated to admit it, but it felt like Suo knew Sakura would trail after him, like a dog on leash.

Suo led them to a room secured by an eye scanner, the door sliding open with a soft hiss. As they stepped inside, Sakura felt his stomach churn at the overwhelming sight before him. Hundreds of monitors lined the walls, each displaying various corners of the city—streets, alleyways, and buildings, all under constant surveillance. If he wasn’t mistaken, this room offered a complete view of the city’s underbelly.

Rows of men sat in front of the monitors, their gazes locked on the screens. None of them moved or even spared a glance at Suo and Sakura as they entered. It was clear they didn’t need to—they likely already saw Suo’s approach on one of those countless screens. The eerie efficiency of it all left an unsettling knot in Sakura’s gut.

The silence in the room wrapped around Sakura like a suffocating fog. The hum of the monitors was the only sound, underscoring the eerie stillness that made his chest tighten. The unsettling awareness of being constantly watched churned in his stomach, but he swallowed the unease, unwilling—or perhaps unable—to voice it.

Suo moved through the room with an air of authority, heading toward one of the men stationed at the monitors. Sakura trailed behind him closely, his steps mirroring Suo’s. In this moment, Suo was the only familiar presence in a sea of strangers, his only anchor in a place that felt like it was swallowing him whole. Even if Suo had been stalking him for who knows how long, Sakura clung to that shred of familiarity like a lifeline.

Suo leaned over a monitor, drumming his fingers on the desk of a blonde-haired man. The guy glanced up at Suo, then shifted his gaze to Sakura, his eyes lighting up as their gazes met.

“Hey, Sakura-san. I’ve heard a lot about you—or rather, seen a lot of you lately,” the blonde said with a grin, his voice smooth and friendly. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Nirei Akihiko.”

When Nirei eagerly extended his hand for a handshake, Sakura just stood there, brows furrowed in irritation. He had no intention of shaking the hand of someone who had been practically stalking him. He even let out a huff, and to his annoyance, that only made Nirei laugh.

“Suo-san was right. You’re a stubborn one,” Nirei chuckled. “Let me tell you, Suo likes it when it gets hard.”

It seemed like Nirei was the only one capable of breaking the silence in the room.

“Ah, Nirei-kun, don’t go airing my kink before I’ve even shown my good side,” Suo teased, flashing a smile, his eye crinkling in amusement.

Sakura started babbling something incoherent about what the hell a kink even was, but Suo‘s voixe quickly pulled him out of his confusion.

“I see you’ve found him,” Suo said, his gaze shifting to the screen once again. The teasing, humored tone he’d had moments earlier vanished in an instant, replaced by something cold and disdain.

“Ah, yes. That rat actually had the nerve to come back after all this time,” Nirei muttered, his attention back on the screen.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, clicking and typing with practiced ease, until images of a man and some kind of demographic data appeared on the display.

“He went abroad to change his appearance and identity, but it looks like he’s still intent on finishing his offer. Seems like it’s a deal worth risking his life for, huh?” Nirei said casually before humming some random notes, like they were watching some concert movie.

Suo took only about ten seconds to study the information, his eye narrowing slightly before he reached out and clicked a button. Nirei only had time to mutter a quick "Nice," before the nearby monitors flickered to life. A black car appeared on one screen, speeding past a group of policemen loitering near the opening of an alley. Sakura watched as the officers quickly scrambled into their cars, speaking urgently into their radios, and peeled off in pursuit.

In the same instant, four men emerged from nearby shops and cafes, silently closing in on their target—the man from the picture. The group approached him with an eerie calm, but one of them, a man with white hair and headphones, moved forward with purpose. Without warning, he slammed a punch into the man’s nose, dropping him to the ground, unconscious. The group swiftly dragged the limp body into the backdoor of a building in the alley and disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived.

Only then did Sakura blink. A thousand scenarios flashed through his mind—what would they do to the man? Interrogate him? Torture him? Kill him?

"This man betrayed us by leaking our confidential information four months ago. He's got the police department and some higher-ups in District 2 backing him, but that won't matter if he dares to cross us, right?" Suo said, his tone light again, as if the weight of the matter had lifted.

His mind was already racing, trying to make sense of the layers he had just uncovered. This wasn’t the sort of world he was used to, where the stakes felt personal. The Yakuza weren’t simply negotiators or businessmen—they ruled, they took. And Suo, in all his charm and elegance, was right at the top of this.

Sakura’s chest tightened as his thoughts swirled in a frantic haze. He’d never truly known a world like this existed. His life before had felt so much simpler in comparison—surviving on scraps, fighting for food, handling cash and punches like it was all there was to life. But in this world of Suo Hayato, where shadows moved and masterminds pulled the strings, deals didn’t feel like deals at all.

Sakura was at a loss for words. He knew exactly why Suo showed him all of this.

"Earlier, you asked why I chose you, of all people, to protect me, right? I choose people who are not only useful but also can be controlled." Suo paused, letting his words sink in, his signature unsettlingly friendly smile curling back onto his face.

“Well, tell me, Sakura-kun. What would you gain if you betrayed me anyways?” Suo’s voice was low, but it held a razor edge to it, sharp enough to cut through the space between them. “More money? A cushy life? Maybe you’d dream of being an Oyabun yourself? Go on, name it.”

Sakura gulped under the weight of Suo’s gaze, his mind scrambling for an answer. But no words came.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Suo broke it with a soft, almost amused sigh. "You know, Sakura-kun, I could snap your neck before you even thought about laying a finger on me."

Sakura stiffened, his breath catching. Suo didn’t move an inch, but the quiet confidence in his voice said enough. He was someone who could destroy Sakura with nothing more than a gesture.

Sakura had never even entertained the idea of betraying Suo either. He just couldn’t wrap his head around how easily the guy was trusting him—blindly, no less. Well, with one eye, but still.

“I don’t need you to threaten me to have my loyalty. I will earn your trust. You have my words,” Sakura said, his tone matching the determination in his heart.

After all, Suo had been the first to reach out a hand to help Sakura, and he wasn't about to walk away from that kind of debt. It was also Sakura's choice—he could either live on his knees or die on his feet. He would never go back to his old life, scraping by on the streets, fighting for scraps just to survive each day. Even now he was just a pawn in a dangerous game, yet the desire to understand the intricate web of power and consequence made him feel bigger of himself, as though he had finally found a purpose in life.

Suo seemed satisfied with his answer. Sakura couldn’t tell if he imagined it, but he saw the light tension in Suo’s shoulders drop at that moment. It felt as if Suo himself—despite all his casual demeanor—had been actually ready for any outburst of Sakura under the moment of fight or flight from this whole ordeal.

"Ah, I’ve loved that determination of yours since the first day we met. Now, come on," Suo said, gesturing for Sakura to follow as Nirei waved them off without taking his eyes off the screens. "You didn’t think I brought you here just to stand around watching action movies, did you?"

Sakura blinked, snapping out of his thoughts and glued to Suo’s steps again. "Where are we going now?"

"The training room," Suo replied, "If you’re going to protect me, you’ll need to know how to fight properly. And judging by the way you shuffle your feet, I’m guessing you’re starting from scratch."

Sakura knew he was weak but the urge to throw Suo into a headlock was still almost overwhelming him. "Hey, I’m not completely hopeless, you know! I’ve been in street fights more than I’ve had hot meals!"

Suo glanced back with a sly smirk. "Street fights, huh? How’d those work out for you?"

Sakura looked away, grumbling. "I’m still alive, ain't I?"

Suo’s laughter echoed down the hallway as they approached a heavy wooden door. He slid the door open to reveal a large room with polished wooden floors, padded walls, and an array of training equipments. There weren’t any weapons in sight, so Sakura figured there had to be another, more restricted room for those—one he probably didn’t have clearance for yet. The faint smell of wood and sweat hung in the air here, hinting at how often the room was used.

"Welcome to your new second home," Suo said, beckoning Sakura to go inside and shutting the door close. "This is where we separate the tough from the reckless. Guess which one you are right now."

Sakura scowled, but his awe was hard to hide as he took in the space. "This—this is where you train? It's fucking huge!"

"Yes, it is," Suo replied, shrugging off his coat and neatly folding it before placing it on the bench near the door. "It has to be big enough to fit all my men when we train."

It was the first time Sakura saw Suo in just his shirt. He couldn't help but notice how Suo casually unbuttoned the top two buttons, and his eyes widened when he caught sight of a tattoo peeking out. It looked like an ear of a fox—one that surely was part of a larger piece if Suo was indeed yakuza. Sakura’s curiosity about the tattoo was so strong that he almost missed the mouthguard that Suo tossed him.

“What the hell?” Sakura stared at the mouthguard in his hand like it had personally offended him. “I don’t need this stupid thing. I’ve been a lot of fights before, I know how to handle myself.”

Suo rubbed his chin, seemingly in deep, mocking thoughts. “If I remember correctly, you were the one sprawled out like roadkill in that alley last week. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘handling yourself,’ does it?”

Sakura bristled, his cheeks flushing at the memory. “It was three against one! And they were assholes. This is not the same thing. I know you wouldn’t just wipe the floor with me in a practice fight.”

“Do you?” Suo tutted, slipping off his shoes as he stepped onto the mat. “You’re dealing with me, Sakura-kun. Even I don’t know what my mood might do in the heat of the moment. But believe me, I don’t want to risk ruining that pretty face of yours.”

Sakura bet he was blushing scarlet by how hot his face felt now. He hardly ever got compliments, let alone from someone as striking as Suo. He knew the guy was just messing with him, but that didn’t make it any easier to get used to.

“Alright,” Suo motioned for Sakura to join him on the mat. “Put it on and show me if you’re good for more than just taking up space."

Sakura frowned, catching the jab in Suo's tone, but he still slipped the mouthguard in place. There was just something about Suo that made him listen, no matter how annoying it was.

“Don’t underestimate me too much, Suo,” Sakura said, his voice muffled by the mouthguard, the words sounding ridiculous to his own ears. “I can at least land a punch on you.”

Suo let out a sharp laugh, casually getting into position. He stood tall and high, as if he weren’t even trying to hide how unbothered he was feeling before the fight, which made Sakura even more riled up.

"Oh, I’d never underestimate you. I’m just assessing you,” Suo said, his voice dipped with sarcasm.

Grumbling under his breath, Sakura lunged forward, throwing a quick punch. Suo sidestepped with ease, his movements so smooth they almost seemed lazy. Before Sakura could recover, Suo hooked his foot behind Sakura’s leg, sending him sprawling onto the mat.

Sakura groaned, glaring up at the ceiling. “Are you serious? That was barely five seconds!"

"Impressive, wasn’t it?" Suo said, standing over him with a triumphant smirk. "Lesson one. Don’t telegraph your moves. I saw that punch coming from across the room."

Sakura pushed himself up and got into his fighting stance again. "You didn’t have to trip me like that! Aren’t you supposed to ease me into this or something?"

"This is easing you in," Suo replied, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. "You’ll know if I’m being mean. Would you prefer I started with knives?"

"You’re enjoying this way too much," Sakura grumbled, trying to shake off the heat crawling up his neck.

"Maybe," Suo replied, tilting his head, his eye gleaming with mischief. "Or maybe I just like watching you squirm. Either way, it’s fun for me."

Sakura gritted his teeth but couldn’t find a retort fast enough before Suo motioned for him to come at him again. "Come on, Sakura-kun. Show me something better than that. I know you’ve got it in you."

Sakura huffed, circling Suo carefully before darting in with a feint. Suo raised a brow, clearly unimpressed, and dodged again, this time catching Sakura’s arm and twisting him around. Before Sakura knew it, he was on the mat again, this time with Suo pinning him down effortlessly.

"Lesson two," Suo said, leaning just close enough to be infuriating. "Don’t rely on tricks you can’t pull off. Feints might work on someone inexperienced, but against me? You might as well be waving a flag announcing your next move."

Sakura growled, thrashing under Suo’s grip but unable to break free. "Are you trying to teach me or humiliate me?"

Suo’s smirk widened, his weight pressing just enough to keep Sakura pinned without causing real pain. "Why not both? Humiliation is a great motivator."

"Motivator, my ass!" Sakura snapped, his face heating up as he struggled. "Get off me!"

He had been thrown to the dirt and tackled down countless times before, but now, with Suo pinning him to the mat in this damn training room, an unfamiliar frustration and humiliation surged through him. Maybe even a twinge of embarrassment.

Suo chuckled, finally releasing him and stepping back. "Lesson three: Learn to keep your cool. Losing your temper will only make you sloppy. And sloppy gets you killed."

Sakura sat up, glaring daggers at him. "Oh, I’ll show you sloppy," he muttered, brushing himself off.

Suo raised a brow, clearly entertained. "Big talk for someone who’s spent more time on the mat than on his feet. But I’ll give you credit—you’ve got spirit. That’s more than I can say for most."

Sakura stood, his hands clenched into fists. Suo’s skills were beyond anything Sakura had ever seen—his movements were almost effortless, a stark contrast to the raw, unpredictable way Sakura fought. If he could surpass this man, he’d prove himself to be someone significant in both his and Suo’s world.

"Keep talking, and I’ll knock that smirk off your face," Sakura declared, his resolve solidifying.

"Bold words," Suo said, his tone almost purring as he stepped closer. "But can you back them up?"

For a moment, the tension hung thick in the air, Suo’s teasing confidence clashing with Sakura’s fiery determination. Then, without warning, Sakura lunged again, this time feinting low before swinging high.

Suo barely dodged, his expression shifting from amused to genuinely impressed. "Better," he admitted, catching Sakura’s wrist mid-swing and twisting it just enough to throw him off balance.

Sakura staggered but didn’t fall this time, quickly recovering and pivoting to throw a kick. Suo blocked it with ease, but the force of it made him take a half-step back.

"Not bad," Suo said, his tone lighter now. "You’re learning."

"Damn right I am," Sakura shot back, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips despite his frustration.

Suo’s eye sparkled with approval, and he nodded toward the center of the mat. "Alright, one more round. Let’s see if you can actually land a hit this time."

Sakura cracked his knuckles, determination blazing in his eyes. "Oh, I will. Just you wait."

As the two squared off again, the training room seemed to buzz with an unspoken energy—Suo’s calm, calculated movements contrasting with Sakura’s raw, scrappy determination.

For all the bruises and banter, Sakura couldn’t help but feel something shift within him. This wasn’t just about learning to fight; it was about proving himself. To Suo, yes, but also to himself. And as Suo’s smirk softened into something almost resembling pride, Sakura knew he wasn’t just a stray anymore. He was part of something bigger.

Grumbling, Sakura pulled himself to his feet again after the sixth landing on the mat. Despite the sting to his pride, a small part of him couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. For the first time in his life, he was being taught to fight for more than just survival. And the man teaching him, as infuriating as he was, made it clear he wouldn’t settle for anything less than Sakura’s best.