Kneel Before This Love: Act 6

After spending his first night in Mitora’s arms in a week, Fuyuki hauled himself into the office the next morning half by sheer force of will (though still an hour late). He had just decided to break for lunch when the phone rang. It was Sokabe, his voice tight with urgency.

“They took Mitora in?” Fuyuki clenched the receiver, voice shrill with surprise. “On what grounds?”

“Late last night, one of Jinno’s hitmen marched into the offices of the Kanto Ryuusei-kai, a sworn enemy of our affiliates.”

“Did it turn violent?”

To think that such an emergency had been in progress while he’d been in bed with Mitora! Fuyuki felt the blood drain from his face.

“One of their senior officers was fatally shot.” Sokabe was dispassionate as he delivered the news that a man had lost his life.

“…you know I can’t get the shooter acquitted.”

“No doubt he was prepared to do time in prison. In the Jinno family, once you’re released, you make officer.”

“Christ, Youhei,” sighed Fuyuki.

A culture like that is just asking for trouble! Why the hell is he still letting his gang operate like that…!

“How did things get that far in the first place? Did our man instigate by attacking their office?”

If Fuyuki’s client was the aggressor then he would not be able to completely cover for him, Youhei’s subordinate or no. Maybe that meant he was half-assing his job as gang lawyer, but he refused to act against his conscience.

During his tenure as a corporate lawyer he had always put the interests of the company first when resolving conflicts. It was a rule he had set for himself, and he hadn’t felt a scrap of shame about it. Consumers had their own lawyers to advocate for them, and Fuyuki had been content to trust those lawyers to do their job of protecting consumer interests. Now that he was serving as gang lawyer, he would do the same thing and put the interests of the gang first as much as possible. That was his job, of course. At the same time, however, he also believed that anyone who had committed a crime should atone for it. Either way, it was Fuyuki’s stance as a lawyer to acknowledge a crime for what it was. Anyone in this line of work had to set a few rules for themselves or risk straying down a dangerous path, and this was one rule that Fuyuki would never compromise.

“No, it wasn’t him. Some Ryuusei-kai guys started it earlier that night. A few of our men and Jinno’s were out together shortly after ten o’clock, and those guys started messing with them…”

That was a relief at least. He might still be able to defend his client with a clear conscience after all.

“So what happened?”

“The police are calling it collusion between the Jinno family and the Komine-kai. They’re claiming the boss gave a direct order to assassinate that officer, and they picked him up on charges of incitement to murder. They’re still treating him like a witness, at least for now…” Sokabe lowered his volume as he added, “Apparently the boss is refusing to speak on his whereabouts last night. He’s maintained his silence since they brought him in.”

Of course he had. Fuyuki wouldn’t want to confess “I was shacking up in a hotel with another man” to anyone either.

“This whole thing is clearly trumped up. They’ve really overstepped here.”

He groaned. Plus, if they were bold enough to take in the boss, then he was sure it couldn’t have been the Shinjuku police. They and the Komine-kai had scratched each other’s backs too many times for them to pull something like this.

“It was cops from Yotsuya that picked him up. Not Shinjuku.” An edge of bitterness crept into Sokabe’s tone. “That department has strong ties to the Ryuusei-kai.”

That was all Fuyuki needed to hear. The Yotsuya police and the Ryuusei-kai were in cahoots against their common enemy, the Komine-kai—but they were bedfellows out of self-interest, not loyalty. He knew the cops would gladly drop them like a hot potato as soon as the going got tough, and that gave him an opening he could exploit to strike back.

Calm down.…

He took a few deep breaths before speaking firmly into the phone, “First I’d like to hear the whole story in detail.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Thank you. I need the latest and most accurate information you can get me, please. That will help me get Mitora released as soon as possible.”

“Fuyuki… no, Mr. Suwa.”

“In Mitora’s case, at least, there’s absolutely no wrongdoing. Whatever agenda they may have here, it’s not going to work. No, I won’t let it work. We have our opening: Mitora never had time to give anyone any orders.”

After all, at the alleged time of the incident, the only thing on Mitora’s mind had been Fuyuki’s body.

Fuyuki requested pickup at his office and hung up the phone, a grim frown frozen on his face. He’d rather expected to be more panicked, but he had regained his composure with a readiness that had surprised even himself.

Alright, let’s do this.

Motivation surged fiery and eager inside him.

And, he thought shrewdly, I’ll get Mitora in my debt while I’m at it.

But the straits were apparently dire indeed. Sokabe’s face was pinched with frustration when he arrived at Fuyuki’s office, a second gangster hovering at his back for protection.

“Is the situation that tense already?” Fuyuki asked, furrowing his brow, and Sokabe sighed.

“The police came to the house and forced their way inside. And, with the boss being detained… it’s a disgrace to our syndicate.” Sokabe paused. “It is my responsibility as lieutenant to answer for this.”

“No shortening any fingers! Mitora would be sad to see you scarred like that,” Fuyuki chided him. “Now, how’s the situation looking? You mentioned the Kanto Ryuusei-kai; weren’t they the ones who attacked us at the villa in Hayama?” he continued, bringing up that grisly memory from his childhood.

He had signed that corporate job offer letter with the conviction that the rest of his life would be blissfully free of gangsters, and yet now here he was, involved once again. Life really could take you anywhere.

“Yes. It’s a grudge that goes back to when the boss’s grandfather was head of the syndicate. In fact, I believe the conflict escalated for a period of time back then as well, and for his own protection the boss temporarily relocated away from the main house.” Sokabe stared steadily at Fuyuki. “You were actually brought with us to Hayama because even your father was in danger of being targeted. The current head of the Jinno family came for the same reason, their house wasn’t safe.”

“That was why…?” Fuyuki’s eyes opened wide. He would never have guessed that there had been such a grave purpose behind that trip to Hayama. No wonder everyone had been on such high alert.

“That trouble also started with a quarrel between the Jinno family and the Kanto Ryuusei-kai.”

“Would you please instruct Youhei to keep a tighter leash on his attack dogs?” He had been preoccupied thinking about Mitora, but his own words gave him pause. Where was the boss of those troublemakers? “Actually, where is Youhei? They didn’t take him in as well? Don’t I need to take care of both of them…?”

“His alibi is airtight. It seems the cops can’t touch him even if they want to.”

“What do you mean?”

Sokabe answered him matter-of-factly, “He was on a flight to Europe when the first hostilities erupted last night, and his plane was still in the air at the time of the attack on the office. He couldn’t have contacted anyone, not even by phone. The police have twisted this into justification for their story that it was the Jinno family’s parent organization, the Komine-kai, that ordered the hit.”

“And that gives them an excuse to bring Mitora in. Very convenient for them, I’m sure.” Fuyuki shrugged. “Youhei’s one lucky bastard though.”

“Hasn’t he always been?”

“Guess so,” Fuyuki agreed with a sigh. Well, better to be able to focus on taking care of just one person instead of two. “What are the police saying?”

“They rejected our request for legal mediation.” Sokabe grimaced. “And members of the Ryuusei-kai have testified that they saw the boss sitting in the back seat of the hitman’s getaway car. They don’t deserve to call themselves gangsters when they tell such petty lies.”

“Seriously, every single thing they do is so small.” Fuyuki clicked his tongue. “So the first incident occurred shortly after eleven o’clock at night, and the hit on the office was at close to one in the morning…? Mitora couldn’t possibly have been anywhere outside at that time.”

“It was right around midnight when the boss met with you?”

“Yes, and we checked in at a hotel. He didn’t sign his real name, but the handwriting is still his if they analyze it.” There was no need to be bashful when Sokabe already knew everything there was to know, so Fuyuki gave a frank account of the previous night. “We ordered room service about three times, drinks and a few snacks, and Mitora was the one who made the calls. We could probably use that as third-party testimony. The Ryuusei-kai messed up; their story might’ve held up if they hadn’t tried to lie about the details. By the way, has Jinno’s man been taken in already too?”

“Yes, one of Jinno’s officers accompanied him to the station to turn himself in. Apparently he lost himself in a fit of rage. None of our direct members had any involvement whatsoever. In any case, he killed one of the Ryuusei-kai’s officers. I’m sure he’s prepared for a prison sentence.”

“Yes, well, I’m the one who has to deal with that now. Ugh…”

Fuyuki gave his head a little shake. If Jinno’s man was already in custody, he would have to be very careful gathering information from him. The problem was the hitman possibly giving false testimony regarding Mitora, but as long as a gangster wasn’t looking to quit his gang, he didn’t turn snitch or traitor. Fuyuki wasn’t too concerned. “How is Mitora doing?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t been allowed a single visit.”

“Haven’t been allowed?” Fuyuki frowned. The man wasn’t even under arrest!

“The cops in Yotsuya are working with the Ryuusei-kai, after all.”

“I see. Is their station chief one of the police elite, or just a grunt?”

“Just a grunt.”

“Alright, I didn’t want to play this card, but I think I have to. I’ll try name-dropping a few of my friends, lean on him a little.” A number of his fellow students from T University Law School had gone on to become police officials, and Fuyuki conjured up their faces in his mind with a quiet hum. Yes, he could definitely use them.

“Are you really alright?” Sokabe was looking at him with a worried frown.

“With what?”

“With all of your peers knowing you defended a gangster.” Sokabe wasn’t simply concerned for Fuyuki’s position; he seemed to also be questioning the strength of his resolve. Was Fuyuki ready to truly do his job as the lawyer for the Komine-kai?

“…they were going to find out eventually anyway, if I’m going to be doing this job,” Fuyuki stated flatly. He was done with indecision. He’d be bluffing if he claimed he didn’t care what anyone else thought, but still, he’d made his decision. He could do this. “More importantly, what’s the mood in the gang? Nobody’s out for revenge, are they?”

His fear of these events setting off a chain reaction of violence weighed much heavier on his mind than the issue of his respectability.

“They’re all anxious enough to bolt,” Sokabe muttered, dodging the question.

“Alright, let’s calm them down. We don’t want a quagmire on our hands. If the Yotsuya police and the Ryuusei-kai are coordinating their stories, they may try to use this opportunity to crush the Komine-kai in one fell swoop.”

Fuyuki snatched up his suit jacket and strode briskly for the door.

“Mr. Suwa, where should I take you?”

“To the main house first. I want to see how everybody’s holding up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sokabe followed his command without question. It felt like having a well-trained Doberman at his heel.

Fuyuki found he kind of liked it.

By the time Fuyuki arrived at the Komine compound, news of the boss’s detainment by the police had made the rounds within the gang. The members who were stationed at the main house were jittery with fear, while the senior officers, all blood relations to the Komine family, wore grim, dour looks on their faces. Even a few bosses of affiliated gangs who lived nearby had rushed over in concern, and now huddled together, brooding, in the great hall.

Whatever happens, we can’t let this escalate into a war.…

Undaunted, Fuyuki barged into the hall before the milling ranks of gangsters and found his mouth opening on instinct.

“Act like fucking men and get your shit together!” he bellowed, his slender frame producing a startlingly loud voice. His exclamation very nearly ended in a cough—his throat had still not recovered from the damage of the previous night’s abuse—but he stood tall to his most imposing height and fixed the crowd with a withering glare. Once he was sure he had his audience’s full attention, he let his hard expression melt into a radiant smile. It was warm and friendly, a smile even Mitora had never been graced with.

“Times like these are precisely when you must demonstrate that you stand as one. If you panic now, the authorities are going to smell blood in the water.” Fuyuki knelt on the floor and bowed his head low. “I see many new faces in the room, so please allow me to introduce myself. I am Fuyuki Suwa, the only son of Tatsumi Suwa, your legal advisor. I am a lawyer myself, and I will be serving in my father’s stead during his medical leave.”

His ever-polite father had drilled good manners into his son, and Fuyuki spoke as he had been taught before rising nimbly to his feet. His body didn’t feel as ruined as he had expected after last night, although it could have just been a case of mind over matter.

“Please, leave the boss’s case to me.”

Not that he’d managed to come up with any good ideas quite yet, but he didn’t let that dampen the confident, almost haughty grin he gave the room.

He heard the soft sound of sighs all around him.

What…?

He’d only put on a bit of an act in order to get the situation under control, but now something suspicious was going on. Why was everyone looking at him with such heated gazes?

“Missus…” somebody murmured into the silence.

Excuse me?

He could feel his perfectly constructed smile threatening to crack as the anonymous whisper set off a chorus of support.

“Missus!”

“We’re all behind you, missus!”

The sight of all these much older men prostrating themselves before him was… theoretically gratifying, but all Fuyuki felt was helpless bewilderment.

Wait, why the hell did I become ‘missus!’

Fuyuki was a man. His body, even beneath his suit, should have made that readily apparent.

Of course, in that moment Fuyuki had no way of knowing that for the week that Mitora had imprisoned him, every gang member in the house had been following the situation with bated breath, and news of Fuyuki had spread throughout the gang, along with tales of “the boss’s manly sweetheart, fierce enough to talk back to his face.”

And his ignorance was probably for the best.

Fuyuki took a breath to deliver a blistering tongue-lashing, but all those eyes staring passionately up at him made it actually rather tough to give them the business. He felt an urge to squirm in embarrassment.

“Missus,” came a voice at his feet. Fuyuki looked down to find even Sokabe prostrate and bowing before him.

Is he messing with me…?

But the man was in fact serious to a fault. “I will accompany you to Yotsuya Police Station.”

“Sokabe,” called one of the senior officers in response to Sokabe’s words. Fuyuki was fairly certain he recognized him as Mitora’s uncle. “You make sure you protect the boss and his missus.”

Sokabe nodded his head gravely. “With my life.”

Coming from him, it was terrifying how literal he sounded.

“Look, I’m not his ‘missus’… Really, Sokabe, you too?” Fuyuki sighed, and Sokabe gazed up at him earnestly.

“Then, please excuse my rudeness but what is your position?”

The ghost of a wry smile tugged at Fuyuki’s lips. When Sokabe came at him head-on with such sincerity, he could no longer just snipe at him or snub the question.

“My position is consulting legal apprentice—intending to eventually take over for my father.”

He said it out loud, recognizing the truth of it. It may have been a minor thing, but it was still one more choice that he was making in order to move forward.

Sokabe’s lips relaxed when he heard Fuyuki’s answer. The man was smiling. In all the many years that Fuyuki had known him, this might have been the first time he’d seen him smile.

“To Yotsuya station.”

“Let’s go,” Fuyuki replied briskly, turning his back on the officers and walking out.

The men in the room watched his slender figure go, all of them having fallen head over heels for him. Their hearts were full of the deep admiration that came from one human being falling for another, free of any sexual desire. But Fuyuki was oblivious to this, and to the fact that he had just definitively established his status in the Komine-kai.

Perhaps it was in that moment that Fuyuki became, both in name and in deed, a lawyer who was in this together with them.

The police officers who received Fuyuki at the Yotsuya station were a nasty breed of bastard that defied description. Within ten seconds of making their acquaintance, they had earned top billing on his mental list of “assholes I’d snap cuffs on first if I ever became a cop.”

“Komine’s lawyer?” one of them drawled skeptically. “You look pretty young to be him. I heard it was some old guy.”

Judging from the man’s oddly specific knowledge about their internal affairs, Fuyuki guessed he’d had the bad luck of running up against one of the Ryuusei-kai’s pet detectives straight out of the gate.

“That would be my father,” he replied, his smile never wavering. “I’m his son. My father is out on medical leave, and I’m here on his behalf.”

“Out sick, is he? Guess that fat gang lawyer paycheck couldn’t keep karma away.”

Fuyuki recoiled at the comment, his eyes raking across the man in a scathing glare. When he forced the smile back onto his face, it left the edge in his eyes razor-sharp. “And you must be… Yotsuya station’s Detective Matsuzaki.”

“I am.”

“Good to know. I’ll remember that, Yotsuya station’s Detective Matsuzaki,” Fuyuki said through his big, friendly grin. “This is quite a warm welcome you’ve given to a lawyer here to visit his client, Yotsuya station’s Detective Matsuzaki. And in times like these, when every police scandal gets a spotlight from the media, well… you must be quite a bold man, Yotsuya station’s Detective Matsuzaki.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying this could be a very interesting topic of conversation at the next T University Law School alumni reunion,” Fuyuki retorted coldly, his smile vanishing. An eye for an eye, and a show of power for a show of power. “Since, oh, you know, only a mere half of the police elite graduated from my school.” The detective’s shoulder twitched. “That reminds me, my closest and best friend from those days, Fukagawa? I’m pretty sure I heard he transferred to the administration department of the MPD this year…” He casually mentioned the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. “I mean, as the chief of some division, of course. Maybe even in HR.”

“What the hell are you trying to say!” Matsuzaki snapped immediately.

He’s so easy to read.…

A man like this wouldn’t pose much of a challenge.

“I’m just making small talk. Is there a problem?” Fuyuki’s smile popped back onto his face and the detective’s mouth hung open, looking like he was itching to say something. “Now, I would like to speak with my client Mr. Komine, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Matsuzaki’s face flushed red, but he seemed to have resigned himself to the situation because he turned around and stomped off into the station. That was apparently his way of saying, “follow me.”

Petty asshole, Fuyuki cursed him, clicking his tongue. You’re really letting guys like this walk all over you?

He closed his eyes and conjured Mitora’s face, a face he’d seen just hours ago.

Fuyuki followed behind Detective Matsuzaki, entering the police station while the man in front of him was no doubt busy spiraling into an infinite loop of doubt about his future prospects for career advancement. Whether out of consideration for others, or out of fear of reckless reprisal from the Komine gang, Mitora had been confined to the farthest room in the back. It didn’t even seem to be an interrogation room. Fuyuki stepped inside, somewhat curious what expression he’d find on Mitora’s face, and found him leaning pompously back in a folding chair that was creaking beneath his tall, thick build, as if it might snap and break at any second.

The tension could have been cut with a knife. Interrogating a big fish crime boss like Mitora was the kind of thing that made detectives a little twitchy. There were four detectives questioning him including Matsuzaki, but Fuyuki didn’t know how many of them had ties to the Ryuusei-kai.

“Well, if it ain’t Fuyuki.” Mitora pinned him with a sharp look.

“What the hell are you doing?” Fuyuki said, knitting his brows. Mitora’s arrogant attitude was both exasperating and so undeniably him that it was comical to watch. The urge to laugh was so strong that he had to fight to school his features.

“I asked ‘em for katsudon but these guys ain’t gettin’ it for me. They always get it for you on TV.”

“Mitora.” Was his attitude just bravado or genuine? Fuyuki’s frown deepened into a scowl as Mitora sat there looking glum with disappointment.

“Can you blame me for wantin’ to try it once? How often you gonna get questioned by the police, right?” Mitora was projecting flawlessly brazen swagger.

This is the kind of man he is.

Mitora never allowed even a glimpse of weakness, no matter how critical his situation. The whole thing may have been an act, but just looking up at his strong, sturdy back was reassuring. Maybe that was how he had won his following of all those gang members: because they couldn’t resist the fierce pull of his insolence and his toughness, his audacity.

Yes, Fuyuki could see exactly why trying to interrogate a man like him might be giving the police a few headaches. He cast a pitying glance at Matsuzaki, who was visibly struggling with his anger, and the other interrogation officers.

“You just had to make this hard for me,” he said, hands on his hips as he shook his head at Mitora, and the man plopped his chin into one hand.

“Not a lot of fuckin’ choice over here, they said I ain’t leavin’ without an alibi.”

“So there’s no problem as long as you have one?”

“Apparently.”

“Alright then.” Fuyuki turned to face the detectives. “My name is Suwa. I’m a lawyer, and I demand the release of this witness,” he said peremptorily, facing them down with a sharp glare.

“That’s…” obviously not going to happen, was written all over the detectives’ faces.

“Don’t you think this has all been a bit heavy-handed?”

“Heavy-handed? We have eyewitness testimony that says Komine was an accomplice,” Matsuzaki all but spat the words.

“Eyewitness testimony?” Fuyuki sneered with a chuckle. “Of course, that’s coming from a reliable witness, is it?”

“Excuse me?”

Some subset of these police officers were not impartial. They were his enemy, and probably coordinating with the Ryuusei-kai to lie about what happened that night. He let out a short breath and tried to calm himself down.

It was okay. He had the truth to play as his trump card.

“There is no way he could have conspired to murder anyone. And I know that, because…” He paused to sweep his piercing gaze over his audience. In the last roughly two weeks, Fuyuki had found himself in situations that forced him to make a decision many times more often than the average person. This moment now was another one of them—and this time it was a choice so critical, it would determine Mitora’s fate.

Fuyuki gently placed his hand on Mitora’s shoulder. No matter what, he was always the same. The same utterly selfish man.

My man…

Fuyuki lowered his eyes. “Because he was with me all night.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Suwa?!”

The detectives erupted into a buzz of noise and motion, while Mitora only gaped up at him as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Fuyuki patted his shoulder in reassurance.

“Do you think we’re going to just buy that story?” one of the detectives got defensive and snarled at him.

“Then I’ll submit the call logs from my cell phone as evidence. Actually, the logs from Mr. Komine’s landline might be better. At the time of the first incident, we were talking on the phone. And…” He leaned the slightest bit of his weight onto Mitora. “After that, we were together until morning.”

And in case the detectives were struggling with how to interpret that statement, Fuyuki let loose a sigh with just a believable hint of reluctance. “If you don’t believe me, conduct a physical examination. I took a shower but there may still be traces remaining inside my body.”

An awkward silence descended upon the room. The detectives had frozen stock-still, all of them looking one second away from screaming. Mitora leapt up abruptly from his folding chair.

“Hey! Fuyuki!”

“What?”

The chair was sent toppling backwards, clanging loudly against the floor.

Hot-headed idiot. Fuyuki turned towards him with a look of disapproval.

“You gonna just spread your legs for some other man?!”

“Don’t say it like that, we’re talking about a medical exam,” Fuyuki said, thoroughly unruffled, but Mitora crowded him with a growl.

“You still can’t just fuckin’—”

“We’re in a police station. Calm down.” He rubbed Mitora’s back with his palm in a soothing caress, their intimate mood leaving the detectives floundering. Apparently they’d realized that going on the offensive had gotten them nowhere, and they were turning paler by the second.

“He was probably keeping it a secret to protect my honor, but…” Fuyuki smiled broadly at them. “I have every confidence that the fine gentlemen of this police department stand on the side of justice and will protect the privacy of minorities like ourselves, so I decided to just come right out and tell you. You are all, of course, officers of the law and paragons of decency, I know you would never…”

And then he turned to Mitora and made an obvious show of scolding him. “Come on, have a little faith in the police!”

“Fuyuki, you…”

Fuyuki reached up to touch the collar of his suit as he peered at the detectives. “So, shall we go to the hospital? Of course, this is assuming that due process will be followed and the intention of the exam is clear. But, if evidence is found that proves that Mr. Komine and I were together, then that would mean the statement from the Ryuusei-kai is false. Now, I’m sure you gentlemen judged the statement to be credible; after all, that’s why you brought Mr. Komine in for questioning. You certainly didn’t just accept a statement from a member of an opposing syndicate at face value, did you?”

Fuyuki emphasized the last two words, and two of the detectives blanched.

So, they’re the ones backed by the Ryuusei-kai.

Perfect. A bubble of laughter tickled in his throat, but Fuyuki fought to keep his face solemn. “Blindly trusting the word of a gangster, as if you were doing favors for each other? Surely none of you fine detectives would even consider doing such a thing. But, if something like that were to happen, well, it would mean trouble when the MPD comes investigating.”

Invoking the name of the MPD drained the blood from the faces of the last two detectives. There was a deep, wide rift between the local precincts and the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

“Now, what’ll it be, gentlemen?”

Without a warrant, the detectives had no authority to bulldoze their way through.

Got ‘em.

Fuyuki basked in the glow of his little victory.

“So I kept my mouth shut for nothin’,” muttered Mitora.

They had returned to the Komine compound together and let the assembled gang members see that their boss was alive and well before slipping away to Mitora’s private rooms. It was a fleeting moment of respite. The trouble with the Kanto Ryuusei-kai hadn’t actually been settled, and things would no doubt be getting busy soon. Even Fuyuki, who had spent the day acting cool and in control, felt wiped out. Negotiating was his forte, but he’d still been nervous.

Although, we only managed to talk our way out of there with such a ridiculous play because this was the first time we’d tried it.

The day would eventually come when he would really have to use his connections at the MPD. And Fuyuki himself needed to hone his skills. He had a mountain of work to do.

He took a sip of the Japanese tea that Sokabe had brought them and glanced at Mitora. Thinking about the future made him feel anxious, but he wanted to keep that anxiety absolutely hidden from Mitora. He wouldn’t make the man worry.

So he put all the confidence he could muster onto his face and said, “Forget about that, you better go kneel at your dad’s grave and beg his forgiveness. Letting some small fry chumps pick you up like that?” He tried to sound detached from the whole thing, but Mitora would not be distracted from his concerns.

And he was only concerned about Fuyuki.

“You sure you’re good?”

“With what?”

“Word’s gonna spread. People are gonna hear that the boss of the Komine-kai and his legal advisor are fucking.”

“Don’t tell me that bothers you, Mitora?” Fuyuki asked, flashing a smirk.

“Fuck no. But I would’ve thought it’d bother you.” Mitora beckoned him over and Fuyuki obeyed, nestling in against his side.

“We’ve actually got a lot of taboos here in Japan.” Fuyuki gave a little shrug. “Even if I am gay, who am I bothering? My sexual orientation is my own private, personal business. If they try to go public with it and denounce me, they’re going to find themselves in a minefield. Especially if a public servant was discovered to have revealed private information that was given in confidence as part of an investigation…” Fuyuki’s smirk returned with a nasty edge. “If our story gets out, for example if jokes about it end up splashed all over the tabloids, I’ll leak to a human rights organization that we only came out to the police, so the police must be the source of the story. It’s a human rights issue and a conflict of interests, so I could even run it by a lawyer who specializes in those areas. You’re a big name, they’d all jump at the chance to take our case.”

“Fuyuki, you…” Mitora stared closely at him for a few seconds before bursting into bright laughter.

“Something funny?”

“No, just… you’re somethin’ else. Haven’t changed one bit since I fell for you when we were kids.” Mitora squinted at him. “You remember when we went to that villa in Hayama? Must’ve been around sixth grade for you.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Yeah?”

“Couldn’t forget it if I tried.”

He’d probably never experience a vacation that harrowing again. …and if he did, he had a feeling he wouldn’t survive it a second time.

Back then, the Komine-kai had been in the middle of a war. Mitora’s relocation to the Hayama villa had been more of an emergency evacuation, and Fuyuki had gotten mixed up in it through no choice of his own. But their enemy at the time—the Kanto Ryuusei-kai, curiously enough—had followed them all the way to Hayama, to mount an assault against the villa where the children were. They had been completely surrounded, their backs against the wall, and Fuyuki remembered how he’d been numb with terror. In the end, a battalion of men from the main house had come to their rescue, and they had been saved.

Mitora squeezed Fuyuki in his arms. “All the guys, they were fuckin’ terrified. Everyone yellin’, ‘They got us surrounded! Fuck it, we’ll take it to them! Go out with a bang!’, shit like that. And I was my father’s son, y’know—a gangster. I was ready to bust out there too.”

“Now that you mention it, I do kind of remember that.”

“You remember what you said, too?” Mitora asked with a huff of laughter.

“Not a chance.” Fuyuki shook his head right away, and Mitora’s smile crinkled his eyes.

“Fuckin’ middle schooler, tiny kid with a face like a girl, and you shouted, ‘Quit trying to bargain your lives away for nothing!’ Standin’ there, tellin’ all the grown-ups off…” Mitora’s shoulders jerked with laughter as he recalled the memory. “You were so fuckin’ cool.”

“…was I?” He had no memory of it whatsoever. Fuyuki cocked his head in confusion. He remembered going to Hayama, but specific details like that were beyond him.

“You were so strong, wouldn’t take no for an answer…” Mitora’s eyes crinkled again, and his voice was soft and deep with feeling as he murmured, “Fuckin’ blew me away.”

He slid the ashtray on the table closer and lit a cigarette. “Some got it worse than others, but all gangsters got something inside ‘em sayin’, ‘live in the moment! Fuck the future!’ And it was like you were calling us out on it. I fell for you right fuckin’ there. I just knew, my mate had to be you.” Fuyuki lowered his gaze, snug in the cradle of Mitora’s arms. “I thought I was makin’ the goddamn confession of a lifetime to you back then.… Bet you don’t even remember.”

He’d win that bet.

Did he say something to me…?

Fuyuki sifted through his memories. Now that he’d decided not to run from Mitora’s feelings, he didn’t want to leave his confession forgotten. After a few moments of silent retrospection, he raised his head slightly. He’d remembered something.

After everything had been sorted out and they’d been ready to return to Tokyo, Mitora had come up to him, and he’d said…

“You’re my partner now.”

“Partner?”

“Means you’re gonna be with me forever.”

“If you want me to be, then sure!”

…his thirteen-year-old self must have agreed with a beaming smile.

Mitora was watching Fuyuki with a broad, delighted grin on his face. To think the man had held onto that cherished memory for all these years, when Fuyuki himself had long forgotten it.

Just those few words…?

Fuyuki’s heart swelled in his chest.

“I was seriously crazy about you—and you, you just kept goin’ around like you didn’t even notice, wouldn’t even give me the time of day,” Mitora groused. “After a while, I started thinkin’ I was just gonna have to make it happen, even if I had to get a little aggressive.”

“Your love is impossible to understand,” Fuyuki muttered, and he took out his grudge for all the years of manipulation by digging his nails into the beefy arm wrapped around his waist and pinching him.

But he could never let those arms go.

“But you’re mine now, ain’t you?”

“Do you really need to ask?” Fuyuki said, sighing. Given where he was and what he was doing in that moment, it should have been clear that he had already made his choice. He had chosen this man, with all the insistent nuisance of his love.

“Better do your best to stick around,” Fuyuki warned him, hands fisted in his collar. “I hate men who die easy.”

“The fuck you talkin’ about, you wouldn’t let me die easy if I tried. Pretty sure you’d kick my coffin over if I managed to get myself killed.” Mitora’s chuckling was a low rumble. “So, you know you called me your man in front of those detectives.”

“Well, sometimes you have to lie to get what you want.” The last thing Fuyuki wanted was a rehash of all the embarrassing things he’d blurted out in that room. “I’m dating a ridiculous man like you—coming out in front of a few detectives is probably the least of what I’ll have to do.”

Fuyuki turned away with a dismissive huff, but a loose, relaxed smile spread across Mitora’s face. “You gonna take responsibility for those words, Mr. Lawyer?”

He gripped Fuyuki’s shoulder, and Fuyuki tilted his head back to find Mitora’s thick lips descending upon his. He couldn’t even guess how many times they had devoured each other’s mouths, but tonight emotion clenched in his chest hotter and tighter than ever before. He lowered his trembling eyelashes and, as if impatient with longing, offered his lips for Mitora’s kiss.

The kiss deepened as Fuyuki felt his clothing being stripped from him. Mitora had ravished him like a starving animal just yesterday, and yet they were hungry for each other again. They both had to be crazy. Maybe Fuyuki wanted Mitora to make love to him now that he felt like he’d broken out of the shell of his old self.

They kissed each other so deeply it brought even their souls together as Mitora pushed him gently down to the tatami. For the first time, Fuyuki reached up to unbutton his shirt himself, revealing the creamy skin of his chest inch by inch. His fingertips were shaking.

He had no idea how many times Mitora had taken him before. This was far from their first time. So why did he feel so incredibly nervous? Why was his heart racing?

“You got hickeys here,” Mitora murmured, pressing the marks with his fingers.

“You gave them to me.”

“Damn right I did.” Mitora ducked down to bite the back of his neck. “There’d be hell to pay if they came from anyone else.”

“What would you do?”

“Bite ‘em off.” Mitora’s voice was quite sincere for such a disturbing statement, as if he were speaking the words of a solemn oath.

“No asking what I want, huh?”

“Nah, ‘cause I love you,” he said with a fearless grin. “And you chose me too now, yeah? So don’t ever fuckin’ try to run away from me.”

Fuyuki turned away without answering. Confirming out loud that Mitora had him was just one step too far for Fuyuki.

“Playin’ hard to get with me?” Mitora grabbed his chin and jerked it up. “Maybe I should get you in the mood to, ah, open up?”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.” Fuyuki flashed a challenging look at him, and Mitora dived down to sink his teeth into his nipples. He sucked at them so hard that Fuyuki had the fleeting worry he might actually eat them.

“Ah…!” The moans that spilled from Fuyuki’s lips were more erotic than ever before. “Mm, oh…” Every time Mitora bit down the zing of pleasure wrenched another cry out of him, and in a fit of vengeful spite he scratched the nape of Mitora’s neck with his nails.

“You a cat now?” Mitora snorted with laughter.

“Says the beast,” Fuyuki muttered on a sigh.

But there was no denying his helpless attraction to said beast. He’d been seized against his will, and they’d fucked like snarling animals nipping at each other’s throats. It had started with each of them hurling vicious insults at the other, and yet… Fuyuki had decided to live his life at this man’s side.

He wound his arms around Mitora’s neck. Mitora touched him quietly, not to consume him, but as if the very act of touching Fuyuki was precious. The pleasure of his foreplay was so gentle that it taunted Fuyuki with the promise of more, and he squirmed hotly.

“Don’t tease me.…”

Mitora always ravaged him much more fiercely than this. Now that his body was used to the kind of sex that tore every last mental faculty away from him, a tender caress was just sweet, ticklish torture.

“Come on, I’m tryin’ to treat you right, ain’t I?”

“What the hell?” Fuyuki gave a little chuckle. “After how hard you always came at me? Are you the same Mitora?”

“I was fuckin’ desperate back then,” Mitora admitted without hesitation. In his position Fuyuki would have played it cool and never betrayed even a hint of his desire, but Mitora was demonstrating very good grace. “But if you’re gonna be mine, then I ain’t gonna treat you like that anymore.” There was a serenity in his expression, even through the flush of lust. “Now I feel like I don’t gotta go hard to keep you.”

Had Fuyuki’s words satisfied him? Satisfied that vicious hunger inside him?

“Mitora,” Fuyuki called for him, and his answer was a passionate kiss.

“Ah, idiot! Don’t push your luck…”

Maybe it was too late to be saying that when his suit jacket already lay on the floor along with his necktie and there was a hand crawling beneath his shirt, but Fuyuki rolled onto his stomach on the tatami to escape Mitora’s touch, elbowing him away. Rolling over only presented Mitora with a prime opportunity to strip his pants, however, which he promptly did. Close behind it came the smooth slide of his underwear slipping down his legs, and Fuyuki felt like he’d just presented himself on a silver platter.

“What’s the big deal? I’m goin’ out of my way to treat you special for once.” True to his word, Mitora’s touch was softer than ever before as he rubbed Fuyuki’s nipples, but his eyes flicked up to glare at him. “So what’s your problem?”

“This isn’t… the time…” Fuyuki’s voice was already breathless.

Give him an inch and he takes a goddamn mile, every time!

He ground his teeth together. “I… still have… work…”

The tug of Mitora’s fingers on his now hard nipples was enough to get him panting, and pleasure threatened to overwhelm his rationality.

I let myself get caught up in the mood, Fuyuki thought, kicking himself. He should have put a stop to this much sooner.

“Just an hour, baby, come on,” Mitora murmured, nibbling on his earlobe. He shifted to trace the thin skin at the base of Fuyuki’s ear with the tip of his tongue, and then he blew a puff of air into it, sending a shudder down Fuyuki’s spine.

“Like you’d be done in an hour!” He needed to nip this in the bud now. If he wasn’t careful, he could find himself captive til tomorrow morning.

“Hey, that’s because you always put up a fight, givin’ me a hard time. It doesn’t take me that long!”

“I’m not talking about fast or slow, I’m talking about how once is never enough for you!”

“Besides, I made it out safe and sound, and the issue with those bastards is settled for now. I’d say we earned a little R&R?”

“Your R&R is just exhausting!”

“Just exhausting?” Mitora rolled a nipple between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, drawing out a gasp.

“Oh…! Mmm…”

He was playing dirty, purposely targeting Fuyuki’s weak spots. Fuyuki had absolutely zero desire to give Mitora what he wanted, but he was powerless to resist.

“How about I lick you head to toe, huh? Like you’re candy I’m sucking on.”

“Don’t—!”

Mitora pulled his right leg up wide, settling his foot onto his shoulder. “You got nice legs, y’know that?”

“Don’t lick there!”

Mitora’s tongue wormed in between his toes, so ticklish that he gave a full-body shiver. That ticklish feeling soon gave way to pleasure, though Fuyuki would never have guessed his feet could be an erogenous zone.

“Ah…!”

“You look like you’re enjoying it, baby,” he chuckled. Apparently content with his toe-licking, Mitora drifted downwards, tongue trailing along Fuyuki’s calf, to the back of his knee, and then along his inner thigh. Finally he reached the pale round slope of his ass, and Fuyuki sucked in a breath. With Fuyuki’s right ankle still held high in one hand, Mitora buried his head between Fuyuki’s legs. He licked all around his hole before dragging his tongue deliberately up to his balls.

“Oh—stop…!”

It was the first time anyone had put their mouth on that delicate area and Fuyuki’s back slammed down against the floor, his body writhing. Still, he could not dislodge Mitora’s hand from its firm grip around his ankle.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Mitora lifted his head and wrapped his free hand around Fuyuki’s now bobbing erection. A spurt of clear pre-cum dribbled from the tip. “You’re the one who’s gonna be cryin’ if I stop now.”

He was right—but like hell Fuyuki was ever going to say so. He kept his mouth shut and fixed Mitora with a glare until the man gave a snort of laughter, sounding uncharacteristically self-deprecating.

“That right there, that’s why I can’t stay gentle with you.”

“Excuse me…?”

“You look at me like that and I just gotta make you want me.”

Like everything else he said, it was an arrogant sentiment, but Mitora’s voice had never been so soft.

Oh, come on… Now he felt bad for being stubborn. Against his better judgment, he couldn’t stop his rush of fondness for Mitora.

“Mitora, let me go.” He gazed up at him, eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “Get me ready for you… and get inside me already.”

“Fuyuki.” Mitora’s eyes flew open. Then he kissed Fuyuki’s heel and lowered his foot back down to the floor. Fuyuki propped himself up on his elbows, sat up slightly, and spread his legs.

“Come on.”

“Fuck, you can’t just…!” Mitora lunged at him. The man had had him in his arms as recently as yesterday. He should have been more than satisfied, and yet he had the desperation of a starving man.

“Not so tight,” Fuyuki protested, fighting to breathe with Mitora’s thick arms squeezing around him. For the first time, however, he let himself go limp, relaxing his muscles in preparation of Mitora entering him.

“These look so good, nice and pink,” Mitora said as he latched on to his chest with his teeth. “Just askin’ to be eaten.”

“Don’t be stupid… ah!” Mitora rocked his hips as he sucked on Fuyuki’s nipples, rubbing their cocks together, and Fuyuki felt out of his mind with pleasure. “Oh! Yeah… yeah, right there…”

Saliva trickled from one corner of his parted lips, but of course he was well beyond caring to wipe it away. His face must have been a dripping mess of tears and spit but he felt no need to hide. Mitora was the one man that Fuyuki could always lay himself bare for, no matter what he looked like.

“Ah, I… I’m gonna… oh… come!” His cock was throbbing between his legs and Fuyuki whipped his head back, hair flying as he cried out, “Fuck me now, come on…!”

“Baby, you say shit like that and I’m gonna break you for real. I’m gonna lose control.”

“Just try and break me.” He was crazy enough to be dating Mitora of all people; Fuyuki wasn’t the kind of man who could be broken easily.

“Don’t come cryin’ to me later,” Mitora hissed, his eyes flashing like a wild beast sighting its prey, and in one harsh thrust he shoved his cock in to the hilt.

“Aaagh—!”

For all that his body had gotten used to sex with Mitora the sudden entry was still punishing, but Fuyuki grit his teeth and bore it. There was some pain, but the thrill of being fucked like an animal made his blood run hot. He wanted Mitora ravenous for him, desperate for him, wanted to see the lengths Mitora would go just to keep Fuyuki all to himself.

Only Fuyuki. Nobody else.

Not that he’s gonna get me so easily.

He gazed up at Mitora with a dreamy smile. Mitora had stolen so much from him, until in the end he’d left Fuyuki with nothing but Mitora himself. So it was only fair to demand that Mitora be consumed by desire for him in return—even if Fuyuki played hard to get and didn’t appear to desire him back.

But right now he was feeling generous. Fuyuki hooked his legs around Mitora’s thick waist, shamelessly grinding his erection into the ridges of the man’s abs.

“Oh, ohhh!” he let out a hoarse moan. In all the many, many times they’d had sex before, it never had felt so good. He felt Mitora come at the same moment that he did, filling him deep inside, and he was so fiercely happy he almost could have cried.

“I told you I had work to do.”

“Ahhh, you looked pretty good by the time you got to the station yesterday even after how long we fucked, so I just thought, y’know, I could go for it…”

Fuyuki had found himself unable to get up after Mitora’s ravishing, and he’d been forced to have the documents he needed fetched and his two assistants summoned to come work with him from Mitora’s room. His displeasure with all of this was etched into his face as a grumpy frown. In the end, a polite interruption from Sokabe outside the door had brought things to an end after just one orgasm each, but… who knew what would have happened if Sokabe hadn’t come by. He didn’t even want to imagine it.

He’d gotten Mitora out of custody, but the court date for Jinno’s man was looming on the horizon (Fuyuki wanted to see that particular client answer properly for his crimes), and he had plenty of other things to think about as well. If the Kanto Ryuusei-kai had the police in their pocket, then the Komine-kai needed to answer in kind. This time they had let the enemy take the initiative, leaving them scrambling to react, and the miraculous underdog home run they’d managed to hit might look impressive from the stands, but true victory lay in taking solid proactive measures to ensure they’d come out on top.

Anyway, I have to start with what’s in front of me…

While Fuyuki was sitting there puzzling over how to make his case for the defense, Mitora was sitting beside him, yawning. Things like research and analysis didn’t seem to be his strong suits, and he was muttering complaints under his breath as he flipped through casebooks. Of course, Fuyuki was the one who specialized in legal matters like these, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt for Mitora to learn a few things himself. Who knew when the police might try to unlawfully arrest him again?

Not that long ago, the most dangerous thing Fuyuki had had to do was resolve a little corporate legal trouble. He gave himself a moment to feel sorry for himself, wondering why he’d traded that life away to live on the edge like this. But he didn’t regret it. Besides, it was actually quite gratifying to take opportunities like this to serve up some heaping spoonfuls of attitude to a tyrant like Mitora.

“And we should talk about how piss-poor your gang’s defense is when it comes to anything requiring brains. Your little give-and-take with the police is the best you can do? Take advantage of them!”

“Fuyuki… I don’t remember you bein’ this nasty before you became a lawyer.”

“You mean worldly.”

Their conversation was flat and brusque for two men who’d been ferocious with lust for each other just a little while ago. Sure, they had an audience in the room to consider, but there wasn’t even the faintest spark of an afterglow.

Well, this is about what I’d expect from us anyway.

Just imagining himself and Mitora flirting all lovey-dovey like newlyweds at this point made him shudder, and not in a good way.

He knew he shouldn’t have let Mitora have his way. Having to ask his office staff to bring his materials to him because he couldn’t physically get up was not something he wanted to make a habit of. He’d been right to play hard to get and not tell him what he wanted to hear. Perhaps it would be better to put some distance between them, until Mitora started going feral with hunger.

Although, I’m the one barely keeping it together every time he takes me.…

He’d just have to figure out the proper distance by trial-and-error. They were going to be around each other for the long haul, so there would be plenty of time to think about it.

“Fuck this law shit, that’s what you’re for,” Mitora declared, sprawling spread-eagle on the tatami floor. Fuyuki reached over to flick his cheek lightly.

“Listen, I have absolutely no interest in becoming collateral damage when you all get into trouble. If I think something is indefensible I’m going to come right out and tell you. And if I don’t want to get involved in something, I reserve the right to make that clear as well.”

He would walk alongside Mitora, but that didn’t mean complete assimilation into his lifestyle. He had to make sure that there would be no confusion on that point.

“Thanks for the fuckin’ memo,” Mitora growled, sitting up with a glower, but Fuyuki was in no mood to baby him.

“I’m saying this gang needs to learn how to cover their own asses when possible. You’ve still got brains under all those muscles, so use them. Quit treating everything like it has to be a head-on fight.”

In fact, if the Komine-kai had just had a few more members with clever tongues, Mitora’s detainment by the police might have gone quite differently. He was still a little pissed off about that.

“…what, you worried about me?” Mitora leaned in to peer at his face.

“Me? Worried about you?”

“Swear to God, the only time you’re sweet is when we’re having se—agh!”

Fuyuki jabbed a silent elbow into his side and cut off his babbling. “Just shut up and find those court cases I asked for!”

Meanwhile, the two assistants were watching their bickering and holding their laughter in behind gritted teeth.

As it turned out, Youhei Jinno returned to Japan the following day. He explained that once he’d heard about the ruckus caused by one of his own men, he’d given up on his vacation in Nice and hurried home. He’d headed directly to the Komine compound from the airport, and when Fuyuki accompanied Mitora to the door to greet their guest, he expected Youhei to be in a truly foul mood. Youhei was surprisingly jovial, however, his grin steady as he clapped Fuyuki on the shoulder with a, “hey, missus.”

Of course, it went without saying that those words were closely followed by the whoosh of Fuyuki’s right palm flying up to crack against Youhei’s left cheek. Although Fuyuki appeared to be furious to the eyes of bystanders, in the next moment he’d dropped his gaze to the floor, pale cheeks blooming with pink, and there was a little smile of heartfelt happiness playing on his lips.