Chapter 10

The alley grew eerily quiet. The group of guys stood there, looking unsure now, their smug grins fading as they hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Taka, standing behind them, looked more frustrated by the second. His cocky attitude hadn’t completely faded, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

“What are you all waiting for?” Taka snapped, his voice cutting through the tense silence. “There’s only one of him! Get him!”

But no one moved. They might have been high school kids, but they weren’t stupid. They had seen enough to know that I wasn’t like them. The scars on my body, the way I carried myself—it was clear that this wasn’t just going to be some schoolyard fight.

“Come on!” Taka screamed again, panic creeping into his voice now. “There’s ten of you and one of him!”

Still, no one moved. Until one of the guys, the biggest one in the group, finally broke the silence with a wild scream and charged at me, fists raised. It was like his shout triggered something in the others because suddenly, they all rushed forward, throwing wild punches in my direction.

Taka’s grin returned, his confidence growing as the gang piled on.

But it didn’t last long.

The first guy rushed at me with his fists clenched, aiming straight for my face. I leaned back, letting his punch sail past me, and grabbed his wrist mid-swing. Before he could react, I twisted his arm sharply and yanked him forward, sending him crashing face-first into the wall. He let out a grunt of pain, stumbling back in shock, but I wasn’t done. I grabbed him by the collar and drove my knee hard into his ribs. The impact left him wheezing, eyes wide with shock as he crumpled to the ground.

Before he could even try to get up, I kicked him hard in the side, knocking the wind out of him completely. He lay there, clutching his ribs, his breath shallow and panicked. He was done.

This wasn’t a regular school fight. This wasn’t just a few punches and someone calling it quits. I was putting them down for good. One by one, they came at me, and one by one, I dropped them.

The alley echoed with the sounds of bodies hitting the ground, groans of pain filling the air as they struggled to get up, only to be knocked down again. I wasn’t pulling any punches. Each hit was designed to take them out, to make sure they wouldn’t be standing anytime soon.

Taka’s grin slowly faded as he watched his friends go down, one after another, until there were only a few left standing. They looked at me, their eyes wide with fear, and I could see it in their faces—they knew they didn’t stand a chance.

One of the guys, his hands shaking, took a step back. Then another. And before I knew it, he turned and ran, bolting down the alley without a second thought.

“Where are you going?!” Taka screamed after him, but it was too late. The others followed, scrambling to get away, fear etched into their faces as they disappeared down the street.

Within moments, it was just me and Taka, standing in the alley, the bodies of his beaten-up friends scattered around us.

Taka’s face paled, his bravado completely gone now. He took a step back, his eyes darting around, looking for any escape. “Y-Yuki... let’s talk about this, okay? No need for things to get out of hand.”

I didn’t say anything at first, just wiped the blood off my knuckles as I walked toward him, my footsteps slow, deliberate.

Taka’s whole act fell apart in front of me. His voice, shaky and desperate now, was a far cry from the smug tone he’d used earlier. "Y-Yuki, wait! I’ll give you the money, alright? Just don’t do anything to me!" His eyes darted around, avoiding mine, like he was looking for an escape that didn’t exist. He was trembling, the fear obvious in his voice.

I noticed Akane standing off to the side, frozen in place. I thought I heard her say something, but I wasn’t listening. My focus was on Taka.

Taka’s fear spiked, and in a panic, he pulled out a pocket knife, his hands shaking so badly it was almost laughable. He pointed it at me, but it was clear he didn’t know what to do with it. His hands were trembling like he thought this tiny blade could somehow save him.

I didn’t even think about it. I grabbed his wrist, twisted it until the knife dropped to the ground with a clatter. It took barely any effort.

Taka collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Yuki! I swear I’ll never mess with you again! Just let me go! I-I’ll give everything back!"

I leaned down, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head back so he had to look at me. "Shut the fuck up," I said, my voice cold. "Where’s the bag?"

He whimpered, pointing toward the back of the warehouse. "It’s there! I swear!"

But I wasn’t about to take his word for it. I dragged him across the ground by his hair, forcing him to lead me to the spot where the bag was stashed. His legs barely worked as he stumbled along, hands shaking.

As we reached the spot, I shoved Taka forward, making him crawl the rest of the way to the bag. He fumbled with the zipper, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he opened it up, revealing the contents inside.

The bag was stuffed with cash—American bills, just like the ones I had given Subaru. The sight of it made my anger cool, if only slightly.

I leaned in close to Taka, gripping his hair tighter, forcing him to look up at me. His tear-streaked face was filled with fear, his whole body shaking. I kept my voice low, steady. "None of this happened. You understand?"

Taka nodded frantically, too scared to do anything else. "Y-Yeah! I swear, none of this happened. It was all me—I started it! You were just protecting yourself!"

"Good," I said, my voice darkening. "And don’t even think about doing something stupid. This doesn’t leave this place, got it?"

Taka’s head bobbed up and down, agreeing to whatever I said if it meant he could get out of this without more damage. I could practically feel his desperation oozing from him.

I turned my head toward Akane, who was still standing there, frozen in shock. "You too," I said, my voice sharp. "Nothing happened. Understand?"

Akane just nodded, her face pale. But that wasn’t enough.

"I said, do you understand?" I shouted, my frustration boiling over.

"Yes! I understand!" she finally answered, her voice trembling as she tried to hold herself together.

I wiped some of the blood off my hands onto my pants, feeling a surge of exhaustion settle in. Everything about this situation made me sick—how easy it had been to resort to this, how quickly things had spiraled. But at least it was over.

I stood up, my body aching but my mind sharp. As I turned toward my uniform, I couldn’t help but notice the gang members still sprawled across the ground, groaning and clutching their injuries. Without hesitation, I started walking toward them, my boots crunching over the gravel. Each step I took felt heavier, each one a reminder of the mess I’d just created.

I reached the first guy, stepping right over him as he flinched, avoiding my gaze. I didn’t stop walking, but my voice cut through the silence like a knife. "None of this happened," I said, loud enough for all of them to hear. "Got it?"

They scrambled, crawling up to their knees, clutching their bruised bodies as they all shouted, "Yes! Yes! Got it!"

I grabbed my uniform from where I had left it, slowly putting it back on, one button at a time. As I did, I turned toward the group again, my eyes narrowing as I made sure they understood.

"If anyone so much as mentions this, I’ll be back," I said, my voice cold. "And next time, you won’t be walking away."

There was no more hesitation. They nodded quickly, muttering agreements, their voices weak and fearful.

Satisfied, I turned my back to them, walking away without another word, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders as I disappeared into the distance.

***

I knocked hard on the door, and after a moment, it swung open to reveal Subaru's father. The instant he saw me, his face paled, and he immediately started to speak, words tumbling out like it was second nature.

"Please… I-I’m sorry, I just need more time! I’ll find a way to—"

I held up my hand, cutting him off. "I’m not here for that," I said, trying to sound as calm as possible, though the way he flinched made me feel like I was failing. "It’s not about the debt."

Subaru’s father blinked, confusion settling in. He glanced around as if searching for something or someone else, then looked back at me. "If you’re not here to collect… then why—"

I reached into my jacket and pulled out the duffel bag, handing it over without another word. He stared at it, unsure what to make of the situation. His hands shook slightly as he opened it, and his eyes widened when he saw the stacks of cash inside.

"When the yakuza come back for the money," I said, keeping my voice firm and low, "give them this."

He just stood there, staring at the bag like it might disappear if he blinked. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to speak. "I… I don’t understand…"

"Doesn’t matter," I replied quickly, cutting him off before he could ask more questions. "Just make sure the money gets where it needs to go."

Subaru’s father looked down at the bag, then back up at me, clearly struggling to find words. He didn’t seem to know whether to thank me or question what was happening. "Why… why are you doing this?"

"Just do it," I said.

He nodded, still at a loss for words, staring down at the duffel bag in disbelief. After a moment, his face softened, and he looked up at me again, his voice trembling. "Thank you… I don’t even know how to thank you for this."

I was about to wave it off and leave, but before I could turn around, he stepped forward, his voice shaking, as if this was the only thing he could offer.

"Please," he said, his tone almost desperate. "Stay for dinner. It’s… it’s all I can give you, to show my gratitude. A small thank you for everything."

I hesitated, one foot already ready to move, but something about the way he spoke—like this meal meant more to him than just food—made me pause. I wasn’t one for heartfelt gestures, especially after everything I’d just gone through today. But the look on his face, the way his eyes pleaded with me, made it hard to turn him down.

I glanced away, trying to find a way out of it. "It’s not necessary," I mumbled, scratching the back of my head. "I don’t need anything in return."

But he didn’t back off. Instead, he stepped closer, almost like he was begging. "It would mean a lot. Please. It’s the least I can do for someone who’s done so much for us." He looked down at the floor for a moment, his shoulders hunched slightly. "We don’t have much, but what we do have… we share."

I could feel the sincerity in his words, the kind of gratitude that wasn’t about money or repayment. It was something deeper, something more human. I sighed, feeling a knot of tension in my chest loosen just a little. The thought of turning him down felt… wrong.

"Alright, fine," I finally muttered, my voice low, more to myself than to him. "I’ll stay."

The relief on his face was immediate, his eyes softening, and he nodded quickly. He motions at me to come in while stepping aside to let me in.

I stepped inside the small apartment, immediately hit by the familiar smell of home-cooked food. It wasn’t much—worn-out furniture, cluttered shelves, an old television humming in the background—but there was something familiar about it. Something that tugged at memories I hadn’t revisited in a long time.

Subaru’s father gestured for me to sit down at the table, and I hesitated again, feeling out of place. But the man’s genuine gratitude made it hard to say no. I sat down, the chair creaking slightly under me, and leaned back, trying to shake off the day’s tension.

He bustled around the small kitchen, gathering plates and utensils with nervous energy. "It’s not much, but I hope it’s enough," he said, placing a simple meal in front of me. Rice, some pickled vegetables, and a small bowl of miso soup. Nothing extravagant, but it smelled good.

I looked at the food for a moment, and then at the man across from me, who was still standing, watching my reaction like it mattered more than anything. "Thank you," I said, picking up the chopsticks. "This… this is fine."

The taste hit me like a wave of nostalgia. For a second, I was back in my own home, years ago, when life was still normal. I could almost see my mom standing at the stove, humming quietly as she cooked. My dad, tired but smiling, would sit at the table, ruffling my hair as he sat down for dinner. The simplicity of it—the warmth of the food, the soft hum of the television in the background—felt so far away now, like a dream I’d long forgotten.

I ate in silence, but my mind wasn’t in the room anymore. It was back in that tiny, worn-out apartment, at the dining table where my mom would fuss over me to eat more. "You’re too skinny," she’d say, smiling as she piled more rice into my bowl. I’d laugh and push it away, telling her I was full, while my dad would just shake his head, amused by the whole scene.

Back then, everything seemed so… simple. So safe. Where did it go all wrong.

I took another bite, but the warmth that had come with those memories quickly turned cold. I hadn’t thought about them in so long. After they were gone, I’d locked those memories away, burying them under years of violence and survival. Now, sitting here in this stranger’s apartment, eating a meal made with the same kind of love and care, those walls I’d built around my past started to crack.

I put my chopsticks down, staring at the food in front of me. My appetite had disappeared, replaced by a hollow ache in my chest. I thought about that last meal we had together—the night before everything fell apart. My dad had been unusually quiet, my mom’s smile had been a little too bright, but I didn’t notice. I hadn’t seen the signs. I was too caught up in my own world, too busy being a kid to realize that theirs was crumbling.

I swallowed hard, pushing the thought away. There was no use in dwelling on it now. The past was the past.

Subaru’s father watched me, not saying anything. He didn’t push for conversation, just quietly sitting at the other side watching me eat, as if he could sense I was lost in thought.

I glanced around the room again, at the worn furniture, the old wooden floors, the cluttered kitchen. It was different from my childhood home, but the feeling was the same. That feeling of scraping by, doing whatever you could to hold onto a sense of normalcy, even when life was falling apart around you.

I sighed, picking up my chopsticks again, even though the food no longer tasted the same. "The debt’s paid," I said quietly, not looking up. "Just… take care of yourself. And take care of your son. He’s gonna need you."

The words came out heavier than I intended, and as I stood to leave, I thought back to my own father. I wondered if he had felt the same way, if he had been fighting his own battles in silence, trying to protect us even as everything crumbled around him. Maybe he had wanted the same thing—just to give me every second of time he had left.

But sometimes, life isn’t fair. Sometimes, it takes the people we love before we’re ready, and all we’re left with is the weight of their absence.

As I reached for the door, I paused, glancing back at Subaru’s father. "Don’t waste your time," I added quietly. "Your son needs you. Be there for him."

He looked up at me, eyes filled with gratitude, but I didn’t wait for a response. I pushed open the door and stepped back into the cold night air, leaving the warmth of that small apartment—and the memories it had stirred—behind me.