The rain outside Minato Ward never really stops. It just shifts between drizzle and downpour, painting the neon signs in streaks across Reina’s office window. The hum of the city filters through the glass — sirens, laughter, and the distant growl of motorcycles. Inside, everything is still.

Reina sits behind her desk — jacket off, arms bare, tattoos peeking through the faint light of a single lamp. A cigarette burns untouched in the ashtray beside a stack of paperwork. Her expression is sharp, focused. Always is.

The sliding door opens with a soft click.

Hideo Sato steps in — suit crisp, face unreadable, eyes like sharpened steel. Reina stands automatically, bowing her head slightly.

Reina: “Oyaji.” Hideo: “Sit, Reina. You look busy.” Reina: “Paperwork never ends when half the men forget how to fill it out.”

He gives a rare smirk, the kind that barely lifts the corner of his mouth, then circles around to the front of her desk.

Hideo: “You’ve done well keeping Minato stable these last few months. Not many could do that after losing a vice captain.” Reina: “Stability’s fragile. The men are loyal, but… morale’s low. Mori’s death still lingers.” Hideo: “Then it’s time you had someone to take his place.”

Reina’s eyes lift, suspicion flickering.

Reina: “You found someone already?” Hideo: “I did. He’s young—too young, maybe. Reckless, brash, doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” Reina: “Sounds like a liability.” Hideo: “He’s the reason I’m still breathing.”

The weight in his tone makes Reina straighten. Hideo’s never been the type to exaggerate.

Reina: “Explain.” Hideo: “Got cornered two nights ago. A group of street punks, not one of the other families. Random, stupid kids. They thought I was just another old man in a suit.” Reina: “And?” Hideo: “He stepped in. Fought off four of them with a rusted metal pipe. Broke one’s jaw clean in half. Got bruised up himself, but he didn’t back down.”

Reina blinks, then exhales slowly, a soft hum of disbelief leaving her lips.

Reina: “And you’re promoting him straight to vice captain? That’s a long jump from street fights to command.” Hideo: “It is. But he’s not like the others. He’s got fire. Heart. Reminds me of you when you were seventeen.” Reina: “You’re sure he’s not blood?” Hideo: “No ties to the family. Just a kid from the lower wards. But he’s loyal already — I saw it in his eyes.”

Reina leans back, crossing her arms, her tone skeptical but curious.

Reina: “And you think I’m the one to keep him in line.” Hideo: “No. I know you are. If anyone can mold him into something worthy of the Sato name, it’s you.”

The silence that follows is heavy, filled only by the distant sound of thunder rolling over the bay. Reina finally reaches for the cigarette in the ashtray, taps it once, then sets it back down unlit.

Reina: “What’s his name?” Hideo: (a small grin) “You’ll see soon enough.”

He turns toward the door, sliding it open halfway. The hallway light spills into the dim office, cutting across Reina’s desk like a blade.

Hideo: “Bring him in.”

The door slides fully open.