After my conversation with Inazuki, I went straight to work.
The usual crew was already there—and the moment I stepped inside, cheers erupted.
"FORSAKEN! FORSAKEN!"
Their voices bounced off the walls, a loud roar covering the usual shitty jazz music I could never stand.
Yeah… it felt surreal.
Still, I let myself savor the moment as I walked toward the counter, the manager watching me from the side with a knowing look.
"If this keeps up," he said with a faint smirk, "I might lose my best part-timer."
Yeah. As if I could just walk away from the Yakuza world that easily.
If anything, this felt less like praise and more like a test.
Our futures were already tangled up, maybe for the rest of my life. I wasn't stupid enough to believe otherwise.
"You'd gain a popular rapper as a partner in crime," I said with a grin.
For a split second, he flinched.
"At least you know where you stand," he muttered, before a smirk crept back onto his lips. "You're ambitious, kid. Or maybe you really think one hit made you famous overnight."
I laughed—too lightly for the weight of the conversation—and met his gaze head-on.
"This is only the beginning," I said, not bothering to hide how far my dream reached.
Maybe further than any of you could imagine.
The manager burst into laughter, like I just told the best joke he'd hear all day.
And that was that.
I headed to the back, changed into my uniform, and took my place at the counter.
Work helped clear my head—and I had way too much shit on my mind.
That reckless sleepover with Kurumi. My classmates suddenly acting like I existed. DMs from suspicious accounts that definitely didn't sound like my sister.
And just when I thought my plate was full enough…
The universe decided to throw even more shade my way.
"Zero credit in the streets, this punk beaten up by gangs
Fold his intestines like sheets, we been crushing up this man
(Wait, man? Boy? This lil bitch even male?)
How does a man diss a bitch just to hog up all the clout
Fuck the things that you preach, we all know what you about
Bro still crying for his mommy, got his sister bust my nuts
Lil Peep in Japanese, bozo's such a handme out
I'm out here in the streets, where all the thugs be at
You get ass whiped like a bitch when you pull up on the block
You say you a Casanova, but no girls around you now
Cause all you talk is mommy issues, bro, nobody gives a fuck
Got a Rolex on my dick, so you playing with my time
Got a Uzi, if I shoot it, you'll be running out of time
When you see me in the videos, wish you had a life like mine
Forsaken on the come up? Your career like a deadline"
Tetsu showed me the track on his phone.
"Song," if you could even call it that.
He listened with one eyebrow raised, then clicked his tongue.
"Dude went hard, not gonna lie," he said.
"He's barely lyrical enough to count as a diss, but… man, it's like he knows all your issues."
I stared at the screen in silence.
Yeah.
That was the fucked up part.
"Who the fuck is this guy?" I asked, glancing at the video.
Tetsu tilted the phone toward me.
The name flashed across the screen: Yabai.
I let out a short laugh.
Yeah. Figures.
One look at the music video was enough for me to recognize him.
It was that fucking bozo—the one who'd dragged his gang along just to jump me before Tetsu swooped in and saved my ass.
So that's how he wanted to play it.
Yeah, sure—I technically dissed him first. But still. I didn't even know this guy rapped.
You know what? None of that shit matters.
Cause I'm gonna win this beef.
Slowly, calmly, I started putting the pieces together in my head. Not just a response or a diss.
But a whole ass plan.
I turned to Tetsu.
"Yo. Can you dig up everything you can on this guy?" I said quietly.
Tetsu blinked, surprised by my tone.
"I'm gonna destroy him with my answer."
Tetsu smirked, like my answer pleased him more than he'd ever admit.
"I'm looking forward to your response, kid," he said.
Then he let out a short laugh.
"Man… I remember when you first freestyled in here. Feels like yesterday."
He shook his head, amused.
"Now look at you—beefing with people already. Haha."
I looked him dead in the eye.
"Yeah, well… technically, I threw the first shot. This is the same punk who needed a whole squad just to jump me up."
Realization hit him. He let out a surprised "Oh," then shrugged.
"Honestly? I don't pay attention to every insect who thinks he's a gangster just because he can throw a punch."
Fair enough.
Just like this, I planned a full retaliation.
The rest of my shift passed, uneventfully. And, just a while after I got home, my phone buzzed.
It was Kurumi.
I want to see you. Is it okay if I come over?, she asked.
I stared at the message a bit longer than I should have, before typing my reply.
Yeah, sure.
It was Friday night, which meant no work—and no school—for the next two days.
The only risk I haven't accounted for until it hit me was… Suzuki living next door.
I remembered what Inazuki said about the two bandmates not getting along. Imagine if they ran into each other here…
No. Just no.
I facepalmed at the thought. A month and a half ago, I was still a depressed idiot with nothing but dreams to cling to.
Stuck in a household that felt more like a prison than a home.
And now… here I am. How did my life get this complicated?
As if the universe wanted to echo the thought right back at me, rain began pouring outside.
Damn.
I opened my phone and texted Kurumi. Where are you now?
She replied five minutes later. I got in the Uber... I'm drenched down to my underwear 😭
Well, that's a problem. I don't have any women's underwear, so… I guess some shorts would do.
Still… I really missed her. Not that she'd ever know.
I quickly made coffee, the aroma filling the small apartment, and set a few perfumed candles on the table.
13 minutes later, a knock echoed through the apartment.
My heart sped up as I hurried to the door and pulled it open.
Kurumi stood there, soaked from head to toe, rain clinging to her hair and clothes.
For a moment, she just looked at me—then stepped forward and hugged me, brief but warm, as if she needed to confirm I was really there.
"Sorry… I got caught in the rain," she murmured.
She slipped out of her drenched jacket and hung it on the coat rack, droplets falling quietly onto the floor.
"You should take a shower," I said. "I'll grab some spare clothes in the meantime."
She laughed softly, that light, familiar sound that always made my heart race.
"Maybe I won't need them~," she teased, tilting her head just a little.
For a second, I wasn't sure if she was joking.
Kurumi began to strip as I prepared some spare clothes for her. I caught a glimpse of her red lace panties; my gaze lingered a second longer than it should have. She chuckled.
"Like what you see?~" she teased.
Yeah. I refused to give her the satisfaction. I carried the clothes to the bathroom and set them on the washing machine.
"Your spare clothes are ready," I said flatly when I came back out.
Only to find Kurumi standing naked, arranging lines on one of my plates.
"This is your reward for now, rapper boy~," she chuckled.
Once she finished, she walked straight to me and pressed a quick kiss to my lips.
Then she headed to the bathroom; the sound of dripping water filled the apartment.
I sat on the sofa. Three neat lines stared back at me from the plate.
I leaned down and sniffed them all in one go.
Kurumi appeared 10 minutes later, wearing the white shirt and blue shorts I'd set out for her.
She dropped onto the sofa beside me and wrapped her arms around my neck, eyes glinting with that familiar mischief.
"I saw the video," she said, voice low and teasing. "Congratulations, rapper boy… you made it."
"We should celebrate," she said, a little too enthusiastic.
Yeah, that gave me an idea.
"You free tomorrow?" I asked.
She blinked, caught off guard.
"Umm… yeah. Why? Don't tell me… Takumi, you want to take me out on a date?~"
"I was thinking a trip," I said. "We could leave in the morning and come back Sunday."
"Ohhh. Where to?" she asked, eyes sparkling like a kid who just got candy.
I smirked.
"You'll see."
And that was that.