The room was spacious, bathed in a warm, golden light, and cluttered with all kinds of furnishings—paintings, sculptures, and expensive décor scattered without order.
A bed rested against the wall, left in complete disarray.
The blanket had slipped onto the floor, where a blond-haired boy, no older than his teens, slept soundly.
Pills of every kind lay scattered around his body.
Knock. Knock.
A soft tapping came from the door, jolting the boy awake as if electricity had surged through him.
"Mr. Hoshino, I brought your food," came the gentle voice of an elderly woman from the other side.
He shot up from the bed grabbing the blanket on the ground then putting it on top of the pills in his bed covering them
"O–oh, come in—! " only to realize he wasnt wearing anything "Wait, no—hold on, I—"
The door opened anyway.
"Ah..sorry for keeping you waiting, dear… oh my!"
The short, elderly woman stepped in, a tray balanced in her hands. Her narrow eyes widened the moment she took in the boy's exposed body.
"Oh, how naughty of you," she chuckled. "Inviting me in while you're in this state… not that I mind of course. Ho ho ho."
He scratched the of his head shile sighing "I told you to hold on "
"Oh is that so ? Well then please forgive me ,my hearing has been quite broken lately " she scanned his body
Thank God he was wearing underwear.
But that wasn't what caught her eye.
Something else did.
A long, purple scar ran from the middle of his back all the way down to his stomach.
She didn't linger on it.
"Dear, where should I put this?" she asked, scanning the room.
"Oh, you can leave it on the desk over there," he said, pointing toward the corner.
As she turned her head to look, he suddenly stepped in.
"Or just give it to me," he said, taking it with his left hand while guiding her out with his right, resting lightly behind her back.
"Have a nice day, aunty. Love you."
He closed the door behind her.
He sighed, resting his forehead against the door for a brief moment before turning away and walking toward the desk.
He set the tray down, pulled out a chair, and sat.
Then he leaned forward, burying his face in his palms, his elbows resting heavily on the surface.
He parted his fingers slightly, letting his gaze on the photo frame on the left side of the desk.
It showed a young woman with purple hair, her eyes marked with two star-shaped pupils, wrapping an arm gently around two children.
The kids looked like they were in middle school—perhaps her siblings.
At the bottom, written in a looping, almost childish script, were the words: "Me and my favorite two stars"—a heart drawn beside it.
It was a little cringe, but it showed the depth of her love for them.
His gaze lingered on the photograph, unblinking, until his eyes grew hollow
He opened a drawer and took out a cellphone.
Dialing a number, he brought it to his ear.
The phone didn't even have time to ring—the call was answered immediately.
"Koi-san…"
"Sorry I haven't kept in touch," a feminine voice said from the other side.
The boy frowned.
"You know my time doesn't come cheap. I didn't call for small talks,I want an explanation."
"An explanation?"
"Call it an apology if you prefer. It makes no difference to me."
"…Alrighty~ I guess I'll apologize...hmmm what can i say...sorry ? "
"You expect that to satisfy me?"
The boy's face twisted even further.
"I wouldn't mind if it did."
" I paid the guards there to help you. I gave you enough drugs for every inmate— all of it in the hope that it might help you"
His voice hardened.
"And you expect me to just laugh it off?"
" Here's the thing I already tried to drug him—twice in fact .but for some unknown reason, it didn't work at all.
The first time, I disguised the drug as headache pills. At first, he showed no reaction. I suspected it was because he had taken a severe blow to the head earlier, which led me to believe that extreme pain might cancel out the effects of the drug.
But the second time made me doubt that conclusion ,just a little… "
She suddenly stopped talking.
The boy frowned, confused.
" What about the second time? …Hello?"
" Ah ..right. The second time, he came to me again, this time with his friend. They were both seriously injured. I tried to drug his friend instead, because of his strength and skill—only for him to slap the pills out of his friend's hand before he could take them."
I guess I underestimated him a bit, the boy thought, smiling faintly.
" I see. He's not as gullible as I expected."
" So what do you want me to do now?" she asked.
" Hand the phone to your brother "
_____________
A year and six months ago
"C-can I work here?"
The small girl's voice squeaked as she spoke.
"You kids looking for trouble or something?" a rough, irritated voice answered.
Inside a small, nearly empty bar, two middle-schoolers stood in front of the counter. The bartender loomed over them, arms crossed, staring down with an unmistakable look of annoyance etched across his face.
"Come on, Ruby, let's just go."
The boy placed a hand on her right shoulder.
She slapped it away. "Please—please, I can do it. I can be the hostess," she pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears.
The bartender scratched his head, unease written all over his face.
"You don't have to pay me for the first month. Just watch my performance and decide after," she rushed on. "You can even cut my pay—just please, hire me."
_____________
Now the two kids sat on a bench near the bar. In the blonde girl's hand was a bottle of orange juice the bartender had given her.
He, of course, had been rejected.
A middle schooler wanting to work as a hostess? Who in their right mind would hire her?
The boy leaned back against the bench, eyes fixed on the setting sun. The warm orange glow washed over the street, heavy and drowsy, making his eyelids sag.
He was exhausted.
Since sunrise, he and his sister had gone from shop to shop along the street, asking for work. Every door had closed on them.
Then—splash.
Cold liquid hit his face, snapping him awake.
His sister, Ruby, stood over him, the half-empty bottle in her hand.
"Are you even listening to me?" she snapped, grabbing his collar and yanking him closer. "What happens to Mama if this keeps going? What happens to us?!"
He didn't have an answer.
After their mother left idol life to raise her twins, money became a constant problem.
Why did she leave idol life?
Because of them.
For an idol to have a partner was already taboo.
Having children—bastard twins, no less—was unthinkable.
She would have been sued into oblivion. Her name dragged through the mud. Her career destroyed so thoroughly she wouldn't be able to find work anywhere else.
At first, somehow, things had worked out.
Until that bastard showed up.
The boy bit down hard on his lip.
One day, his father came back and demanded the children. When their mother refused, he threatened to expose everything.
So she paid him.
Money to keep his mouth shut.
Money she needed to survive
Of course she couldn't just hand him the kids. She knew the man was an irresponsible piece of shit who couldn't even take care of himself.
So why did she sleep with him?
Idk
Lust clouds people's minds.
"I don't know… I really don't," he said, covering his face with his hands.
His back felt heavy with burden, his heart pierced by the thorns of guilt
the guilt of being born into this world.
Despite his mother's words telling him not to worry, telling him they would find a way
I really hope we find that way soon.
The air suddenly turned colder, a chill crawling up both twins' spines.
Ruby glanced at her brother to see if he felt it too. One look at his stiffened face told her enough.
He pointed to their right.
Ruby's expression darkened.
"Oh… so that's why."
She saw it then—something that could ruin their day just by being nearby.
A man sauntered down the street toward them, dressed in a white suit so bright it was almost blinding. Behind him followed two men in violently garish shirts, their strides as shameless and confident as their leader's.
Trailing behind them, at a slight distance, was a sickly-looking man of small stature.
In the entire world, only one kind of group could wear such mismatched outfits and still move with unsettling unity.
Yakuza.
Members of a species that felt separate from ordinary people.
Maybe "yakuza" wasn't a profession at all—maybe it was a classification.
Just think about it. These people made their living off the suffering of others.
They produced nothing. Contributed nothing. They existed solely to harm.
A cheap whore gave more to society than they ever would.
At least she had some use.
Unlike those disgusting savages
Whatever you do, you mustn't let their antics upset you. As the superior species, it is our duty to observe them with open minds, in the hope that we might one day learn something of use to humanity.
" aqua can you please stop yapping ? They're coming our way
" what do you want me to do ? " aqua her brother asked her
"What can we do? Let's just move to the side of the road, keep our heads down, and pray that they all die from a heart attack "
Aqua exhaled
she was right , that was the best course of action
The yakuza head into the nearest store, then emerge a few minutes later with the owner bowing and scraping behind them. They repeat this process at the next store, and the next...
"Looks like today is collection day," Aqua whispered. "The Ichizo Group."
The Ichizo crew was one of many gangs that had struck deals with the government.
Once a minor outfit, they grew at an explosive rate after entering a direct relationship with the previous prime minister.
Now they're the de facto lords of this slice of town. Backed by authorities, they extort money under the guise of taxation, then give half to their masters and keep half for themselves.
Like fleas.
"Augh… I'm starting to itch."
Aqua glanced at her. "Do you want my help with that, Your Majesty?"
Ruby smirked. "If you really want to help…" She pointed at them.
"Oi, you idiot, don't poi—"
Aqua tried to warn her, but it was too late.
The man in the white suit glanced our way, his attention caught the instant Ruby pointed.
It should've ended there.
Apparently, Lady Fate decided our lives weren't fucked enough yet.
There are these strange moments, a product of coincidence or some sort of chain reaction, where a crowded, busy street suddenly goes silent. In such cases, the silence usually lasts for only an instant before people notice its existence and move to fill it.
Now that silnce fall on us in the worst possible timing
"Then get rid of those fleas."
For some unknown reason, the silence didn't break.
We're fucked.
I analyzed the situation.
The yakuza's gaze was still locked on us.
Ruby, blissfully suicidal, kept going
"Those nasty, smelly worthless pieces of garbage. Those sorry excuses for human beings. Those monkeys."
With every insult, the color drained further from my face.
Yes. Definitely fucked.
Please, God. Help us.
I tried to move—to grab her hand and run—but my legs were frozen stiff. My brain understood the weight of the situation perfectly.
What it couldn't grasp was what the hell to do next.
I didn't know what to do.
I snapped out of my schizophrenic inner rambling when someone tugged on my sleeve.
Only then did I realize the four men were standing right in front of us.
"Hey there, princess."
The man in the white suit addressed Ruby. His voice was soft—completely at odds with his hard, unforgiving features.
"Whatcha you call us?"
For a split second, I feel a flicker of hope.
Maybe he isn't as furious as I expected.
Maybe he's realized there's no profit in beating up kids.
But then reality catches up.
This is a yakuza we're talking about.
If there's no profit in hurting us, he'll just go after the people closest to us
in our case, mom.
And I don't want those creatures anywhere near her.
I glance sideways at Ruby. Her mouth moves, struggling to form words.
"Uh… umm… I—I'm…"
"Hmmm?"
The man cups his hand around his ear and leans closer, his ear inches from face
His buddies snicker behind him.
"Um… I'm s-so…"
I can't take it anymore.
I step between Ruby and the yakuza.
"Excuse me, mister."
I don't even know how I managed it. Earlier, I was frozen stiff.
Did my adrenaline finally decide to show up?
"She didn't say anyth—"
His leg snaps
The kick slams into Aqua's chest, launching him several meters backward, his body crashing hard against the ground
"Who the fuck asked you? Don't interrupt me, you little shit!"
Breathe.
Breathe.
I pressed a hand to my chest as my lungs refused to cooperate. Air wouldn't come. For a moment, my body lagged behind my mind.
Then it clicked.
I looked up at them as my breathing finally steadied.
That confirmed it—the yakuza had no intention of going easy on us.
They were dead serious.
The others didn't look surprised in the slightest, Just a shrug from the short guy with long hair. This kind of thing must happen all the time.
What now…?
I managed to lift myself, one hand still pressed against my chest.
"You really shouldn't talk about us like that. We're doing important work for the government, you know?"
The yakuza grinned from ear to ear, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth.
"You understand that, right?"
"R-right!"
"That means you'll apologize, yeah?"
"Y-yes! I—I'm sorry."
" hmmm ? So how should we settle this?"
He ignored Ruby's apology completely.
Bastard.
He wanted something from her.
"Where do you live? I'll have to talk to your parents."
"I… I'm an orphan."
...
He shrugged"Then take me to your orphanage! Hahahaha!"
He burst out laughing, the men behind him joining in.
All except the short, long-haired man—he just smiled and shook his head.
"Now say you don't live in one."
"I think that's far enough, don't you, Yang?"
A voice cut straight through the laughter. I turned toward it—and there he stood, the sun at his back, a man whose sheer presence rivaled, if not surpassed, everyone else in the place.
At first glance, you might mistake him for a homeless drifter. His hair was long and unkempt, a light beard framing his face.
He wore a tight black leather jacket and equally tight jeans, giving him an oddly deliberate look.
Between the slightly parted jacket, a bloodstained white undershirt was visible
Aqua knew exactly who this guy was.
He came to the bar often, exchanged a few brief words with the twins.
Always polite. Always easygoing.
Friendly with everyone.
Hikoroku Hashiba.
That was his name.
"And who the fuck are you? Ptuh."
The yakuza spat on the ground. "There's no money here. Fuck off."
He ignored the man in white, his eyes locked instead on the short guy with long hair.
"What do you say, bro? Let them go for me—pretty please?"
"I would," the man replied, speaking for the first time. His voice was soft, silky smooth.
"But you see… reputation is our livelihood. It's worth more than a simple sorry."
What a lousy excuse.
Hashiba placed a hand on his chin, pretending to think.
"Ah, I see. Then How about this ,let me buy you a drink? "
He smiled faintly.
"But only for you. The rest of these gentlemen can drink water instead..."
The man giggled, shaking his head as he refused Hashiba's offer. The sound of his giggles was deeply unpleasant it was like crawling under my skin.
"You don't need to worry about your reputation. It's safe, I promise," he said lightly. "Letting two kids go would do wonders for your image. Who knows? People might even start treating you like that Kaoru boy."
Every yakuza present stiffened at the mention of Kaoru—every one of them except the short man.
Yang, I think his name was.
Hashiba's expression hardened.
"Go get your money while these people are scared. Isn't that how things work around here, Yang?"
"Hehe… hehehe…"
I couldn't think of any reason for that laughter. Surely hearing one's own name wasn't something to cackle over.
A shiver slid down my spine.
Despite his feminine features, I felt nothing but revulsion seeing his face
After a few moments, Yang finally turned his crooked smile toward the man in the white suit, who had remained silent the entire time.
"Does that work for you, Mr. Minato?"
"Yang san ?"
"The tough guy has a point," Yang continued lazily. "Haven't you had enough fun for one day? Besides, we should get back to work. Not that I think anyone's dumb enough to pretend they're not home… but you never know. Someone might try to hide a few yens and skip their dues."
"…."
The man in white hesitated, then nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
None of them spared us a second glance. Yang followed, that limp-lipped smile still plastered on his face. Then they were gone.
Slowly, the street's tension melted away, the air returning to something resembling normal.
"Ruby."
"Huh?!" Aqua's voice snapped her out of her daze. "You okay?"
"Yes." She still looked shaken,can't blame her. "What about you? How did it feel getting kicked around like a ball?"
Aqua exhaled, immediately regretting asking.
Then he turned sharply toward Hashiba, who was already walking toward the sunset.
He probably come for the bar, but now that it was closed, there was nothing left for him here.
"Uh… Hashiba-san!"
Hashiba glanced back over his shoulder.
Aqua bowed deeply showing his gratitude
"Thank you."
Hashiba only waved his hand dismissively and kept walking.
_____________
As night crept in, the streetlights bloomed one by one, casting pale circles across the empty roads.
Three men moved quietly through an apartment building. All of them wore delivery uniforms and carried boxes ,except for the short man walking at the front.
Yang.
He held an empty liquor bottle in his hand, his face flushed from intoxication. He stopped in front of a door and squinted at it.
"You sure this is the place?" he slurred.
The tallest of the three nodded.
Taking that as his cue, Yang raised his hand and knocked.
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Hikoroku Hashiba is from the novel Shishi no Mon, which shares the same world as Baki and Garouden.