I lost my greatest love

An almost violent force was used to open the door to a rock-themed salon. A man with white hair stepped in and his pale brown eyes nailed to the hairdresser with wild black hair.

"Did he come here? Was Natsuo here before?" he asked, almost out of breath since he had run all the way back. Sweat dripped down his blushed cheeks and down his neck, but he hardly noticed it because his mind was consumed by worry.

"No, he left before I arrived, without even saying anything," the salon owner snorted as she swept someone's cut hair from the white-and-black tiled floor.

"But luckily, a second client was already waiting, so I had something to do - "

She was startled when the tattooed man grabbed her arm and tightened his grip as he demanded more information. His scared look was quickly wiped away and replaced by a cold, intense stare.

"What client?"

"Well, another person came by without an appointment. You know, the woman I told you guys earlier, the one who - "

"Describe the way she looks."

"Wow, are you already getting back to girls? Have you already moved on from your boy?"

The look on the yakuza's face made it clear he wasn't in the mood for joking around. His gaze blazed with desperate urgency and his hold on the salon owner's arm was deadly serious, as if he was trying to squeeze an answer from her.

The woman yanked herself free from his clutch and took a step away from him.

"I'm not telling you anything if you keep manhandling me like this!" she snorted and folded her arms.

Jiro forced his expression to soften and apologized with a sigh.

"I'm sorry. Please, this is really important."

Ayumi let out a deep sigh and shook her head. She never really got angry with her Jiya.

"Long black hair, beautiful as ever, brown eyes with a tint of something - red, perhaps? Pretty tall, wide hips, nice ass, very good tits - "

"No, no, no," the white-haired man muttered as he cut her off. His brows furrowed and his lips tightened as his distress became even more noticeable on his features.

"Did she leave you with her number? Or any kind of contact?"

"Yeah, I will meet her for drinks later today. What the hell is going on?" Ayumi scowled and crossed her arms, looking both and agitated.

"Call her. Put it on the speaker."

"Are you serious?"

"Do it."

She complied with her friend's instructions and waited, glancing back and forth between the man and the phone when waiting for something to happen. After a few beeps, a seductive woman's voice came through the speaker.

"Are you eager to see me again, dear?"

Jiro's eyes darkened and his jaw clenched as he heard the woman's familiar voice. He snatched the device to himself and clamped his fists.

"Ane-san."

"Oh, Takuya. I didn't expect you," Mika Kamiwara replied with a sweet laugh.

"I believe you spoke with my roommate," Jiro stated, trying his hardest not to lash out at the first lieutenant of the yakuza. He kept his tone respectful despite the boiling anger boiling up inside him.

"You have your own way of doing things, but I won't let you hurt the people close to me. I want my friends to be left alone," he continued, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Watch your tongue or you will lose another finger," the waka gashira cautioned him, abruptly sharpening her voice.

The two friends in the salon exchanged looks at the woman's words. Jiro's face hardened into a grim expression, while Ayumi's eyes widened in shock.

"And you are late from work. You better have a good excuse for Kazuo, because he is rather moody today - well, more than usual," the woman chuckled slyly before ending the call.

The hairdresser stuttered for a while, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected revelation.

"So... she is part of the yakuza? Really?"

"She is. One of my leaders. She is evil and is ready to hurt anyone, sometimes without a proper reason," Jiro warned and added his best friend to keep her distance from the woman. Mika had never done anything out of generosity or with sincere intentions - she was always looking to gain something, even if it was just pure destruction.

Ayumi's face fell into a gloomy frown after realizing her hopes for a potential romance were gone.

"Well, fuck. Guess I lost my greatest love," she sighed, dropping her shoulders and looking like she had just received the worst news in the world.

The tattooed man's stomach sank as he thought of the person who had called earlier - his friend, his companion, his romantic partner he had grown to treasure more than anything else. It had never crossed his mind to him that listening to his voice would break his heart in two.

"Maybe we both did," he said weakly, his throat tight with emotion.

(Later that night)

In a narrow room, a lock clicked when the creaky door closed. The only furniture in the space beside an old futon was a small bedside table with scratches from years of use.

The air was humid and heavy after the summer heat, but it was secluded and better than the streets outside. A faint, musty smell lingered in the air, hinting that mold was growing on the old corner wall that had started to peel off.

Natsuo slumped onto the stained mattress and broke into a muffled cry as he rolled onto his side. His mind was foggy, his thoughts jumbled and chaotic, trying to figure out what had happened.

When did he stop suspecting his former classmate who had rescued him from the streets? Was it after the person saved him from the yakuza's underground prison, when he supposedly risked his own life to save him from certain death?

Was everything just staged and orchestrated? Were all the kisses and tender touches part of the show to seduce him? Was he really able to manipulate him that far?

The more he thought about their time together, the months of living side-by-side and the dangers they had already dealt with, the more he doubted the man he had once trusted. Even though he had told himself to keep his guard up and be vigilant, he had been blind to everything.

A while back, the young man asked the other if he had taken him in to harm him. Jiro had denied everything, assuring him that he would never hurt him and would protect him - and yet, he had never been hurt like that before.

Not even the beatings from his adoptive father or his imprisonment in the yakuza's basement had been as painful as the moment when he realized he had been deceived by the only person who had ever truly seemed to care about him.

He wanted to forget being so foolish, so naive, and so clueless.

He wanted to wake up and find out that it had all been a nightmare, that he had never opened his heart and mind to someone.

He wanted to forget the one he thought he had known, the friend who had given him shelter and a chance to start a new life, the man whose deception had broken his heart.