The Black Ledgers

The wind bit at Kaito’s face as he stood atop a tall building in Yotsuya, the city sprawling beneath him. His binoculars—borrowed from Shinji—were trained on the street below. Flying above the buildings had been his first instinct, but the dull ache in his back had made that impossible. Instead, he had climbed his way up here, the strain on his body a harsh reminder of his limitations.

He scanned the area, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the car from the surveillance footage. It was parked near a dimly lit bar at the edge of the district, nestled among other mundane vehicles. His pulse quickened.

Kaito descended from the rooftop, careful not to draw attention to himself. He positioned himself in the shadows across from the bar, his gaze fixed on the vehicle. Minutes turned to hours as he waited, tension building with each second.

Finally, the door to the bar creaked open, and a man stepped out. Broad-shouldered and wearing a thick jacket, the man looked unassuming at first glance, but Kaito’s instincts screamed otherwise, he is convinced that it’s the same man.

As the man approached the car, Kaito moved swiftly. He emerged from the shadows, grabbing the man’s arm and slamming him against the side of the vehicle.

“Talk,” Kaito growled, his grip tight on the man’s jacket. “You were at the Iron-Wing Games. You warned me about something, didn’t you? What the hell did you mean?”

The man’s expression didn’t change. If anything, he seemed more amused than alarmed. In a flash, he twisted free from Kaito’s hold and reversed their positions, pinning Kaito against the car with ease.

“Is this how you thank someone for giving you an advice?” the man said, his voice low and teasing. “You wait months to find me, then harass me like this?”

Kaito struggled against the man’s grip but couldn’t break free. “You knew something, didn’t you?! Emi—she’s dead! You warned me, but you didn’t tell me enough. Why? Why did she have to die?”

The man’s smirk faded, replaced by something harder. “Can’t say. Though, I had nothing to do with her death.”

“Then why?” Kaito demanded, his voice trembling. “Why did you warn me? Who are you?”

The man released Kaito, stepping back and crossing his arms. “You’re asking a lot of questions for someone who isn’t ready for answers.”

Kaito clenched his fists. “I don’t care if I’m ready or not. I need to know. If you’re not involved, then tell me who is. Help me!”

The man sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really are your mother’s son,” he mutters under his breath.

Kaito freezes. “What did you say?”

The man finally looks him in the eye, his expression softening slightly. “I was on Operation Eclipse with her. Harumi Yamamura. I was there the day everything went to hell.”

The words hit Kaito like a blow to the chest. His vision blurs for a moment as disbelief washes over him. “Who... who are you?”

The man steps forward, extending a hand. “Name’s Ryuji. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Kaito stares at the hand, his mind reeling. The man who had eluded him, who had held so many answers, was someone from his own past—a connection to his mother, his pain, and now his quest for revenge.

Kaito doesn’t take Ryuji’s hand right away. Instead, he looks him in the eye, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Then start talking.”

The chapter ends with Ryuji smirking faintly, gesturing for Kaito to sit as the flickering light above them casts long shadows on the walls.

Kaito’s mind reeled, his jaw tightening as he struggled to process the identity of the man before him.

“Ryuji... What the hell happened to you?” Kaito asked, his voice sharp with confusion and anger. “I tried to contact you months ago, but I was cut off by some... sinister voice. It sounded like a threat. I thought you were dead.”

Ryuji’s expression darkened, but he quickly shook his head. “A lot has happened, Kaito. More than I can explain here, and definitely not in the middle of the street.” He gestured towards the darkened alley beside them. “Come with me. There’s a place I use—safer than out here.”

Kaito hesitated but ultimately followed. Ryuji led him through a labyrinth of narrow streets, the kind of place where shadows seemed to grow thicker with every step. Eventually, they stopped in front of a dilapidated apartment complex, tucked away in a forgotten corner of Yotsuya. The building was crumbling, with broken windows and overgrown ivy clinging to its walls.

“This is your hideout?” Kaito asked, eyeing the building skeptically.

Ryuji smirked faintly. “Not what you’d expect from a guy who just threw you to the ground, huh? Come on.”

They entered the complex, their footsteps echoing faintly against the cracked tiles. Inside, it was surprisingly clean, with makeshift furniture and faint signs of life scattered around—blankets folded neatly in one corner, a small radio perched on a windowsill, and a stack of canned goods on a shelf.

Before Kaito could take in his surroundings, a lively voice called out from the stairwell. “Kameki-ojii-san, you’re back!”

A teenage girl, no older than fourteen, bounded into view. She had bright, curious eyes and a spring in her step that seemed completely at odds with their surroundings. “You’re late again! What took you so long this time?”

Ryuji sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sayuri, can you keep it down? I was trying to be subtle.”

“Oh, right. Subtle,” she said with a playful grin. Her gaze shifted to Kaito, and her curiosity visibly piqued. “Ooh, who’s this? A friend of yours? He doesn’t look like the average thug.”

Kaito blinked, caught off guard by her energy. “Uh... Kaito Yamamura.”

“Yamamura-san, huh?” Sayuri said, tilting her head. “I like it! You’ve got a serious look, though. Is that just your face, or are you always this intense?”

“Sayuri,” Ryuji cut in, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Enough. Go check on the others.”

“Fine, fine,” she said, throwing up her hands. “But I want details later!” She skipped off, her footsteps fading as she disappeared deeper into the complex.

Ryuji turned back to Kaito, his expression hardening again. “Let’s talk somewhere quieter.”

Ryuji led Kaito down a dimly lit hallway to a modest room at the far end of the complex. Inside, it was simple but tidy—an old couch against one wall, a small table with a teapot and two mismatched cups, and a shelf lined with books and faded photos.

“You can have a sit,” Ryuji said, gesturing toward the couch. He moved to the small kitchen counter, picking up the teapot. “I hope you don’t mind green tea. It’s the only thing I’ve got that isn’t instant coffee.”

Kaito lowered himself onto the couch, still trying to process everything. “Green tea’s fine,” he muttered.

Ryuji poured two cups and handed one to Kaito before settling into the armchair opposite him. He took a sip, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

They began conversing concerning all that’s been going on and why Ryuji had just vanished randomly.

“Alright, Let me explain,” Ryuji said, his voice low and steady. “After Operation Eclipse, I did have some mental breakdown, but it’s warranted. I stumbled upon something I shouldn’t have during that mission.”

Kaito’s eyes narrowed. “What was it?”

Ryuji shook his head. “I can’t tell you everything now, not yet. But let’s just say it was big enough to make me a target. I tried to warn Harumi, tried to convince her to leave the military for good, but she wouldn’t listen. She said she couldn’t abandon her duty.”

His gaze darkened. “Not long after that, I was attacked at home. It wasn’t random—it was a hit. I barely made it out alive. That’s when I knew I had to disappear. I left everything—contacts, devices, even my name, in a way. The organization after me... they’ve been silencing anyone connected to my work. That includes Harumi.”

Kaito’s grip tightened around his teacup, his knuckles whitening.

Ryuji nodded solemnly. “Her condition makes her less of a threat now, and I have this feeling that they’re directly responsible for that.”

“Do you know who they are?” Kaito asked, his voice almost a growl.

Ryuji’s lips pressed into a thin line. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “They’re called, Geheim Syndicate.”

Kaito’s heart skipped a beat. The name struck like a thunderbolt, dragging him back to the hospital, to the cryptic warning from the man on the wheelchair.

“So that’s what they’re called,” Kaito muttered, his voice heavy with anger. His free hand clenched into a fist, the tea in his cup trembling as his grip tightened. A fierce look burned in his eyes, his mind racing with memories and realizations.

Before he could speak again, the door creaked open. A woman, stepped inside, brushing her hands on her skirt. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, landing on Ryuji.

“Oh, Ryuji, you’re back. I heard Sayuri’s shouting from my room.” Her tone was casual but carried a hint of scolding. Then her gaze shifted to Kaito, curiosity flickering across her face. “And who’s this?”

Ryuji stood, gesturing to Kaito. “This is Kaito Yamamura. He’ll be joining us today.”

The woman arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but didn’t press further. “Alright then. I’ll let the others know. But Yuma’s not around—said he had something to take care of.”

“Figures,” Ryuji muttered. “Thanks, Naoko. Gather everyone else in the lounge. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Got it,” Naoko replied, flashing a brief smile before heading back out.

As the door clicked shut, Ryuji turned back to Kaito. “Finish your tea,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re only getting started.”

Ryuji led Kaito out of the room and down a narrow hallway. They emerged into a dimly lit lobby, where eight people were gathered—four women and four men, all around different ages but carrying the same wary tension in their eyes.

Kaito quickly scanned the group. They looked like a ragtag bunch, each distinct in their demeanor. Some glanced at him with curiosity, others with caution.

Ryuji clapped his hands to get their attention. “Alright, everyone, listen up,” he said. “This is Kaito Yamamura. From today, he’ll be joining us.”

The announcement was met with a mix of expressions—some surprised, others skeptical.

One of the guys, a tall man with sharp eyes and neatly combed hair, crossed his arms. “Are you sure this is the time to be adding members, Ryuji?” he said, his tone skeptical. “We’re barely managing to stay hidden as it is.”

Ryuji’s calm expression didn’t waver. “It’s fine if it’s just one person, Do Yoon. Besides, I trust his skills. He won’t be a hindrance.”

Do Yoon’s lips thinned, but he said nothing more, leaning back against the wall with a skeptical look.

One of the girls, a curvaceous woman with bright, piercing eyes and short, choppy hair, stepped forward. “I hope so,” she said, her gaze sizing Kaito up. “Anyway, new guy—Kaito, was it? Why do you want to join us?”

Kaito opened his mouth to reply, but Ryuji suddenly raised a hand, cutting him off. “Ah, hold on,” he said, slapping his forehead in realization. “I haven’t even told you who we are yet, have I?”

Kaito blinked. “Not exactly, no.”

Ryuji turned back to the group, gesturing grandly. “This,” he said, his voice taking on a theatrical tone, “is a gathering of those who have been wronged, hurt, or betrayed by the Syndicate. People who refuse to let their pain go unanswered. Each of us has lost something, and together, we’re working to make sure the Syndicate pays for it. We are, the Black Ledgers Parade”

The room fell silent as Ryuji finished his declaration. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and resolve.

Then, Naoko broke the tension with an exasperated sigh. She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Ryuji. “Do you have to be so dramatic about it every single time?”

Ryuji shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? It sets the mood.”

The others chuckled softly, and the tension in the room eased slightly. Kaito looked around at the faces of the group, each etched with their own stories and pain.

“Welcome to the team, Kaito,” Ryuji said, his voice softening.