It was a rainy night at Tokyo Bay.
Heavy rain poured down like ink spilling over paper, turning the sea and sky into a dark, blurred painting.
Blood washed away into the bay, vanishing into the waves.
On the shore stood two men in black suits. One tall and lean, the other short and stocky. Their presence was suffocating, their murderous intent like the grim reapers themselves.
Gin and Vodka.
Vodka, splattered with mud, leaned over the pier and stared into the churning waves.
"Big brother, Bacardi's body is gone. Should I call the others to fish it out?"
Gin's silver hair clung to his face in the rain as he snapped,
"Idiot. There were gunshots earlier police will be here any minute."
He smirked coldly. "A bullet to the heart. He's not coming back."
Gin's aim was never wrong, but the dull throb in his side made him scowl. The traitor had actually managed to wound him before dying. Left unchecked, Bacardi might have become a real threat someday.
"Go get the car," Gin ordered.
Moments later, the familiar growl of a Porsche 356A echoed through the rain. The two men sped away just as sirens wailed in the distance.
Inside the car, Gin made a quick call.
"Boss, Bacardi's been taken care of. Any other orders?"
Before the Boss could reply, a furious voice cut in.
"What? Gin, are you trying to die?!"
It was Vermouth. Her voice, usually smooth and controlled, was now raw with rage. Gin and Vodka had never heard her lose composure like this.
"Vermouth…" the Boss began, but she ignored him completely.
"So it was you who gave the order? You old"
The line went dead.
Gin's eyes narrowed. He knew Vermouth's standing in the Organization was unique, but this much fuss over Bacardi? Ridiculous. In any case, the man was dead. Things would return to normal soon enough.
The rain fell harder in Beika Town. Outside a high end apartment building, a white sedan pulled to a stop. Inside sat two women.
The driver, a young woman in a green jacket, was Kuriyama Midori, assistant at the Kisaki Law Firm. She was pretty, but the passenger beside her easily outshone her like the difference between stars and the full moon.
The passenger wore a blue business suit and gold-rimmed glasses. Her long brown hair was tied neatly back, framing a face so beautiful it could make hearts stop. Her aura was regal, untouchable. This was the undefeated "Queen of the Court," Eri Kisaki.
Midori was still bubbling with excitement from their courtroom victory.
"Sensei, you were amazing today. Prosecutor Kujo didn't even have a chance to fight back. And those reporters paid off by the real estate company? Now they'll have to eat their own words."
Eri gave a faint smile but her posture was weary.
"Xiao Lu, you worked hard. Take a few days off now that the case is over. And with this rain, you should hurry home."
She stepped out of the car, black umbrella in hand. The click of her heels echoed against the wet pavement as she made her way down the path. Midori watched her teacher go, full of admiration. One day, she thought, she might be even a tenth as capable.
The rain drummed softly against Eri's umbrella. Her mind had already wandered to thoughts of a hot bath when her eyes caught something on the ground a small figure lying face down, unmoving.
She hurried over. Beneath a soaked black shirt was a boy, no more than seven or eight years old. His short black hair framed a face so striking it could have belonged to a child actor porcelain-pale skin, delicate features, and an almost fragile air that tugged unexpectedly at her heart.
There was no one else on the street. The clothes he wore didn't fit, hanging awkwardly on his small frame. In this weather, he'd catch a fever for sure.
Without hesitation, Eri lifted him into her arms and quickened her pace toward her apartment.
From the cold rain, Ishikawa Takeshi suddenly found himself in warmth.
Through half-open eyes, he caught a glimpse of an elegant, beautiful face above him. The next time he awoke, he was lying in a room filled with gentle light and comfortable heat.