Nifumi's House
The table was quiet except for the faint clinking of cups. The smell of coffee still hung in the air when Hayato's phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen Miri.
"Yeah Miri?"
On the other side came only ragged breathing. Then Miri's trembling voice "Hayato… come to the hospital… please…" She was crying.
Hayato froze, his chair scraping as he stood.
Itsuki's hand clenched around his mug. "What happened? Is it Miyu?"
"I don't know," Hayato said, already reaching for his coat. Miri was crying.
Nifumi tossed his car keys with a flick of his wrist. Take my car. Go.
Without another word, Hayato and Itsuki rushed out. The door slammed behind them, gravel spitting under tires as Nifumi's black car roared down the road.
The silence that followed felt heavier than the sound of the engine.
Nifumi stepped outside, Ken and Aya peeked through the doorway behind him.
"What a terrible day…" he muttered.
A dark sedan pulled up to the gate. Its engine cut off with a low growl.
Nifumi sighed, cracking his neck. "And it just got worse."
Three men stepped out. Their presence alone made the air feel smaller.
The first man with twin scars crossing both eyes.
The second a vertical scar running down his nose to his ear.
The last one face clean, too calm, too quiet.
Nifumi walked toward them, arms open, grin lazy and dangerous.
"Well, well. It's been a long time since you bastards paid me a visit." His tone dripped with mock curiosity. "Tell me, how does it feel to sell your souls?"
He placed a hand on the shoulder of the scarred-eyed man. "Shota. You'll tell me, won't you?"
"Don't fuck with me, Nifumi," Shota growled, swatting his hand away.
Nifumi chuckled. "Cute." His eyes slid to the man with the scar down his nose. "And you, Izuku? No hello for an old friend?"
Izuku said nothing his jaw twitched, fists tightening.
Nifumi sighed dramatically. "Why are you guys in such a bad mood? Come on, cheer up—"
Before he could finish, the third man the one with no scars stepped forward and punches him in the face.
The impact sent Nifumi crashing into the wall, plaster cracking.
Ken flinched, pulling Aya back into the house.
Hospital
Hayato and Itsuki shove through the double doors and the scene opens like a wound: machines humming, a thin pool of light over Miyu's still face, tubes and IVs branching out like vines. Outside the room Ishida sits rigid in a chair, face hollow; Miyu's mother is on her knees. Miri paces, voice raw, fists clenched.
Hayato's eyes flick between them. "Miri what happened?" His voice is flat.
Itsuki beside him, pupils blown wide. He looks at Miyu, Then he turns to Miri. "What the hell happened?"
Miri turns to him, shoulders shaking. She ducks her head for a second and says, hurried, "Promise me you won't lose it. Promise."
Itsuki swallows, voice low. "I won't. I promise."
She looks him in the eyes, hard. "Say it louder."
"I promise." He swallows again. The promise tastes like iron.
Miri exhales and launches into it. "Ishida went into the room. He—he started pulling the lines. He—he was trying to cut her off. He was going to—" Her voice breaks; she slaps a hand over her mouth. "I caught him and shouted. The monitors went crazy. I called for help, but he was—he kept saying we can't watch her like that anymore. He tried to kill her."
Itsuki's eyes flared with rage and shot to Ishida. Miri clamped down on his hand. "No—control itsuki please," she hissed.
Hayato doesn't wait. He strides forward and grabs Ishida by the collar and slams him into the wall.
"What kind of father tries to kill his own fucking child?!" Hayato shouts, voice echoing off the tiles. "Are you fucking insane? Do you—do you have any idea what you were doing?"
Miyu's mother lunged, trying to pull Hayato away. Miri held Itsuki's hand tight as Hayato continued, voice cold and furious, "That girl is the reason he's alive he points at itsuki, He lives every day hoping she'll wake up. She's fighting on her own. You don't get to fucking decide mercy for her."
Itsuki's hand is a vice on Miri's. He feels the tremor in his own fingers but he doesn't move. He watches Ishida on the floor: the man he wants to smash and the father he can't forgive.
A nurse and a doctor rush in, One of them says, professional and clipped, "Sir, you need to calm down. Security will escort you outside while we stabilize the patient."
Hayato releases Ishida, steps back, and says flatly, "She will stay with us from now on. If you even say a word against that, I will involve the police attempting to kill a patient is a criminal act. You'll have to fucking answer for this."
Ishida sank to his knees, the hallway heavy with the sound of monitors and Miri's quiet, furious sobs.
Outside Nifumi's House
Nifumi spat blood onto the floor, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
He looked up at them and smiled wide, crooked, unbothered.
"Heh. Nagumo…" He laughed under his breath. "Looks like you've gone soft with all the money and whores… it doesn't even fucking hurt."
Shota grunted. This bastard really gives me the creeps.
The air outside was still until Nifumi let out a short laugh and started walking toward them, hands in his pockets.
"Well, well," he said, tilting his head.
Shota's jaw tightened. Izuku stayed silent. Nagumo calm, unreadable watched him close in.
Then, without warning, Nifumi broke into a run.
Before any of them could react, his fist smashed straight into Nagumo's face
the impact echoing through the quiet street as Nagumo's body slammed into the car, denting the door with a heavy thud.
Nifumi stretched his arm lazily, grinning. "See, Nagumo? That's how you throw a soft punch."
Nagumo stood up, wiping the blood from his nose. A slow smile crept across his face. "Ahh, it hurts, you fucking bastard…"
Nifumi laughed wild, genuine. "Good! Means you're still somewhat human."
Nagumo rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "What's up, Nifumi? Not gonna invite us inside?"
"Inside?" Nifumi's grin widened. Nah… I don't want my house dirty.
The tension crackled. Even the air seemed to step back.
Shota muttered under his breath, "Same old psycho…"
Nifumi turned to him instantly, flashing that wide grin again. "What was that, little shota? Say it louder I love compliments."
Nagumo holds up his hands, slow and flat. "Easy, both of you."
Shota and Izuku exchange a look, then Izuku cuts in, sharp and tired. "We're here because of the East docks."
Nifumi drops to the cracked concrete like he's collapsing onto a bed arms spread, eyes half-closed, grinning as if he's napping. East docks, huh? What about them?" he singsongs.
Izuku's patience snaps. He leans forward, voice hot. "You're fucking in charge of dealing sites, Nifumi. How the hell did that get attacked? Even giant gorilla died. Our people is dying like crazy. And someone's needs to answer why."
Nifumi opens one eye lazily, hums as if thinking. Ohhh—let me think. He drags the word out, as if remembering a pleasant dream. Then, suddenly bright: Ahhh, right. He props himself on an elbow and points a finger like a professor. Didn't you hear from my boys? Two drunk retards with big guns stumbled onto the site. Started shooting twenty of our boys took bullets. And they even killed the giant with some cheap trick.
I stepped out 'cause of the racket, and the giant was already dead. No biggie." He shrugs, stretches. "Those two were nothing. I fucking killed them. Cleaned the mess. So everything's fine. Now get your asses out of here."
Shota rolled his shoulders, bored. "There's no point in having this conversation."
Nagumo dropped down beside Nifumi on the cold concrete, lying back like it was all a game. He propped his head on an elbow and studied Nifumi with flat eyes. "Have you heard of that scarred face guy? The one who took down Sumiyoshi?"
Nifumi chuckled, amused. Why are we even talking about the lowest of the low ranks?
Nagumo's laugh was a dry rasp. I was just thinking… ever since that freak showed up, our boys keeps dying. voice colder now. "The Kings are pissed, Nifumi."
Nifumi's grin stretched wider, obnoxious. Why are you telling me? I don't give a fuck about the Kings. They can suck my dick. I'm doing my job just fine." And why the hell are you all scared of those kids? They aren't kings they're just a bunch of retards who took their fathers' places. This is exactly why I don't like you lot.
You use Injin's name to line your pockets. You're nothing but a bunch of nutjobs who'll do anything for money probably even wipe those kids' asses, I bet."
Shota's jaw tightened. Nagumo's face went stone. For a moment the laughter drained out of the air.
Nagumo pushed himself to his feet with a hard flip, eyes narrow knives. "Watch your tongue, Nifumi. Or you'll pay a price."
Nifumi only laughed, As if he'd been offended by a pleasant joke. "Shoo, shoo. Go back to your little houses before the Kurogami eats you," he taunted, spitting the name like a dare.
The three men snapped anger flaring but they kept control, faces hardening into forced calm. "Don't mention a ghost who's long gone, you fucker," Shota hissed through clenched teeth. "Our scars still hurt just from hearing that bastard's name!!
Nifumi stayed on the ground after they left, eyes following the clouds drifting lazily above. He let out a long breath, then reached into his coat, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.
He slipped one between his lips, lit it with a flick of his lighter, and took a deep drag.
A faint chuckle escaped him quiet at first, then low and full of something sharp. "Heh…" He exhaled, watching the smoke dissolve into the blue. "I guess the war's near."
He grinned at the sky, eyes half-lidded. "About damn time."