The clock read five minutes past seven. The cityscape from Yuuta's window wasn't exactly breathtaking, yet it had a certain pull—one that made you stare longer than expected.
The sun had dipped far beyond the horizon, streaking the sky with warm orange hues. The towering buildings below—rising over two hundred feet—blocked any direct sunlight from reaching his window. All that remained was the lingering glow, bleeding into the deepening blue canvas above.
Yuuta watched the world move below him, the streets alive with people going about their lives, unaware of the storm raging inside his head. How had it come to this? Running from the police, possibly even the XTR. Just days ago, his biggest worry was dodging the two bullies that made his life miserable. Now, he was running from forces far worse. And the question that gnawed at him—when would it end?
He leaned against the window frame, eyes tracing the darkening sky. Yasuke had told him to sleep, but who in their right mind could rest in a situation like this?
A sudden knock shattered his thoughts.
Yuuta jolted upright.
"Rise and shine, Top G—"
Yasuke strolled in, only to pause when he saw Yuuta standing stiffly by the bed, eyes sharp and alert.
"Looks like you didn't sleep," Yasuke said with a chuckle. "Well, that's beside the point, 'cause in just a moment, my friend, you'll be sleeping in the most luxurious room in this part of the world." He threw an arm over Yuuta's shoulder, voice dipping to a whisper. "It's time. Hope you're ready?"
Yuuta's gaze dropped to the floor. His mind was still tangled in doubt.
"I'll take that as a yes. C'mon, we don't wanna be late."
***
The brothel doors swung open as Yasuke and Yuuta stepped outside. Parked at the roadside were two sleek black cars with tinted windows. Six men in sharp black suits stood nearby, their expressions unreadable.
Yuuta squinted. An odd sight, considering Yasuke always draped in women—never mentioned having bodyguards. For a moment, he even wondered if Yasuke's "ladies" doubled as his security.
"Heeey, what's good, people?" Yasuke waved lazily. The men bowed their heads in response.
The two slid into the backseat of one of the cars. The moment the doors shut, Yasuke's gaze landed on the driver—a dark-skinned man with a jagged scar running down his cheek and a shaved head.
"Oh, Bobby! Didn't know you were coming today." Yasuke smirked before turning to Yuuta. "You know Bobby, right?"
Yuuta shot him an exasperated look before glancing at Bobby through the rearview mirror. Yasuke with bodyguards was already unsettling, but Yasuke surrounded by men? That was a first.
"Your safety is important today, Boss," Bobby said flatly. "I have to be here."
Yuuta leaned slightly toward Yasuke, lowering his voice. "Safety?"
"Eh, um, yeah," Yasuke scratched his head. "You know how these gang meetings are. Things don't always end well, so... he's our safety net."
Yuuta exhaled, forcing himself to relax against the seat. His gaze lingered on Bobby for the rest of the ride.
The car rolled to a stop twenty minutes later outside a fairly large bar—one of Yasuke's many establishments. A hub for loose lips and intoxicated confessions. Intel. That was Yasuke's real currency, and he had mastered the art of extracting it from all kinds of sources.
Tonight, however, the scene felt different. Security was heavier than usual—guards stationed at every corner, all dressed in black. No surprise, really. They all answered to Yasuke.
"Welcome to The Lounge, my friend," Yasuke declared, stepping out. "No activities tonight. This entire place? Reserved just for the Top G, the man of the day."
He cast a sidelong glance at Yuuta. The kid was still stiff, clearly uneasy. Wrapping an arm around his neck, Yasuke guided him inside. Bobby trailed behind, signaling the other guards to stand watch.
"What's on your mind?" Yasuke whispered. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
Yuuta's lips barely moved. "I... I don't think I can do this."
"What?" Yasuke gave a light laugh. "Come on, man, today is the day. The day you become a full man."
They sat at a table—one noticeably more decorated than the rest. A large bottle of wine sat at the center, flanked by three empty glasses. Yasuke leaned in. "Listen, you've got something in you. Something the world wants to snuff out. But I'm here to lift you up—so high, the fire in you will burn forever. Got it?"
Yuuta nodded slowly, not because he believed Yasuke's words, but because he wanted this night to end already.
The doors creaked open. Three men stepped inside.
The one in the middle, seemingly in his late twenties, had short, milk-colored hair and round tinted glasses. His tailored black tuxedo fit like a second skin. The two men flanking him wore knee-length coats and wide-brimmed hats—one carrying a large briefcase, the other an office bag.
Yuuta straightened, his unease sharpening. Oddly, it wasn't the man in the tuxedo who unsettled him—it was the two behind him. Something about them felt... off.
"Oh, finally! We almost thought you ditched us," Yasuke greeted, standing to shake the man's hand.
"How could I," the man replied smoothly, turning his attention to Yuuta with a smile. "Not when someone as important as Benchiro Yuuta is involved."
Yuuta stiffened. "You know my name?"
"Who doesn't know the name of their most valuable client?" He extended a hand. "Curry Desmond. And I'm in charge of your care, Benchiro Yuuta."
Yuuta hesitated before shaking his hand.
Yasuke gestured for them to sit. "Now then, I assume you're aware of your current situation?" His voice was casual, almost amused. "Just yesterday, you tested positive as a mutant. A few hours later, you went rogue, causing havoc—"
"I didn't go rogue!" Yuuta snapped. "I never stole anything! I never killed anyone!"
Desmond lifted a hand. "Calm down. I was getting to that."
The man with the office bag set it on the table, pulling out a laptop. A few keystrokes later, multiple images filled the screen—Yuuta, in his school uniform, destroying shops, smashing vehicles.
"That's not—"
"Believe it or not, this is you." Desmond leaned forward, voice lowering. "Here's where it gets interesting. You're the first ever mutant to go rogue and still regain your human sanity. Do you know what that means?" He asked then continued "Every gang, the XTR, even the government will be after you." He smiled. "And that's where we come in.
"We offer protection. Power. Money. A better life. What do you say, Mr. Yuuta?"
Yuuta's grip tightened around his chair. His breath was shallow, his clothes damp with sweat. He had given much thought about his current situation as had come to a conclusion, one that he wasn't sure was the best, but at least he thought it will be far more reassuring than any other thing that were to happen.
"I… I can't do this." His voice cracked. "I can't. I'll go to the police. If I did all this, then... then I'll accept it. My punishment"
Tears welled in his eyes as he pushed back his chair to leave—only to be blocked by one of the men in hats.
His stomach dropped.
Desmond sighed dramatically. "Was it my wording? My tone? Or did I somehow give you the impression that you had a choice?" He took a leisurely sip of wine. "Look, kid. We won't harm you. But don't give us a reason to change that. Okay?"
Yuuta's hands went numb, his throat dry. His gaze darted to Yasuke—who wouldn't meet his eyes.
"What is he talking about?" Yuuta whispered. "What the fuck is he talking about, Yasuke?"
Desmond snapped his fingers. The briefcase was placed on the table and flipped open, revealing a mountain of blue currency cards, Seri.
Yuuta's stomach twisted. He was being sold off and he had realized it, that all these everything that had happened today was just him running into the enemies grasp
"What the hell is that, Yasuke?!" Yuuta's voice cracked with fury. "Fucking give me a straight answer already!"
His pulse pounded in his ears as he lunged toward Yasuke, but a firm grip locked onto his arm like a steel vice. He twisted, yanked, but the man's hold didn't budge. Panic flared. Desperation took over. He drove his knee toward the man's groin—only for searing pain to explode through his shin, as if he'd just struck solid iron.
A shadow loomed. The next thing he knew, a heavy fist crashed into his shoulder. His vision blurred. His body crumpled to the floor like a discarded rag doll.
Yasuke exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing. "I told you not to hurt him."
Desmond smirked, rolling the wine glass between his fingers. "And who's to blame? You said he would be compliant." He gestured lazily toward the briefcase. "The money's in your hands. We have the merchandise. The deal is done—let's keep things civil and part ways."
Yasuke scoffed, his expression unreadable. He flicked a hand, signaling Bobby to take the briefcase.
Then, the air shifted.
A sound—like the slow creak of old bones—filled the room as Yuuta's body twitched. Then, impossibly, he moved. Not in the sluggish way of someone regaining consciousness, but with an unnatural grace, his limbs lifting from the floor as if pulled by invisible strings.
His hair grew, strands lengthening and streaking white at the tips. His skin drained of color, turning ghostly pale, veins darkening beneath the surface like ink bleeding into paper. When his eyes opened, they were no longer his—red irises ringed with black hues, cold and empty as a bottomless pit.
A slow, eerie grin carved across his face, stretching wider than it should. He turned his head, taking in the stunned faces around him, savoring the tension like a predator toying with its prey.
"And where the fuck am I?"
His voice rasped, hoarse yet disturbingly clear.