---May 2, 2016
---At Shibuya Tokyo, Japan
Yumi sat at the kitchen table, trying to coax her son, Hiro, into eating his dinner. Hiro, however, was having none of it. He kept trying to hit the spoon away, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cried out,
"Where's Dad?!..."
Yumi sighed, her heart heavy with worry.
"Come on, Hiro, just a few more bites, please." She tried to keep her voice calm and soothing, but the strain was evident.
---Until...
The doorbell rang, interrupting her attempts to feed Hiro. Yumi frowned, puzzled. Sato had said he was on a trip with his fellow officers. He hadn't mentioned anyone visiting.
She stood up, smoothing her hands on her apron, and walked to the door. As she opened it, she was greeted by a young man, his face unfamiliar but his eyes intense.
"Who are you?" Yumi asked, her voice tinged with caution.
The young man offered a tight smile.
"I'm a friend of Sato's," he said, his hand clenching inside his hoodie pocket where Sato's revolver was hidden.
"Is he home?"
Yumi hesitated, sensing something off but unable to place it. "Sato's away on a trip with his colleagues. He didn't mention having friends over."
Takashi's smile tightened. "Yeah, he must've forgotten to tell you. It's kind of important that I see him. Mind if I come in and wait?"
Yumi glanced back at Hiro, who was still crying at the table, then back at Takashi. She didn't want to be rude, but something about this situation made her uneasy.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Maybe you should come back later when he's home."
Takashi's eyes flicked towards Hiro and then back to Yumi. He softened his tone, trying to sound less threatening.
"I understand. It's just really important. Maybe you can call him? Let him know I'm here?"
Yumi still hesitated. "What's your name again?"
"Takashi," he replied smoothly.
"Takashi Yashida."
Yumi nodded slowly. "Okay, Takashi. I'll give Sato a call. Why don't you wait here?"
She stepped back and closed the door slightly, leaving it ajar while she went to get her phone. Takashi stood on the porch, his hand still tight around the revolver, waiting.
Inside, Yumi dialed Sato's number, her heart pounding slightly. When it went to voicemail, she left a message. "Sato, it's me. There's a young man named Takashi here saying he's a friend of yours. Please call me back as soon as you get this."
She returned to the door, opening it a bit wider but still blocking the entrance.
"I'm sorry, Takashi. I can't let you in right now. I left Sato a message, and he'll call back soon."
Takashi nodded, masking his frustration. "I understand. I'll wait outside then."
As Yumi watched him step back, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. She closed the door and locked it, then returned to Hiro, who had calmed down slightly.
"It's okay, Hiro," she whispered, trying to reassure herself as much as him.
"Daddy will be home soon."
Outside, Takashi stood on the porch, his mind racing. He needed to get to Sato, and he wasn't about to let a locked door stop him. He stepped away, planning his next move, determined to get the answers he needed, no matter what it took.
---But...
Yumi was about to pick up Hiro when she noticed something shining through Takashi's hands. Her eyes widened in horror as she recognized Sato's revolver. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she made eye contact with Takashi, who now had a steely, determined look.
"Run, Hiro!" she screamed, grabbing her son and turning to flee.
Takashi kicked the door open with a powerful blow, the wood splintering as he rushed after Yumi. She clutched Hiro tightly, her breath coming in panicked gasps as she tried to escape. But Takashi was too fast, and he tackled her to the ground.
---Meanwhile...
a speeding car was zooming through a highway. Ryujin was behind the wheel, gripping the steering wheel tightly, while Kenji sat beside him, staring out the window, and Sato was in the backseat, staring at his hands.
"Why the hell were you trying to back out?" Ryujin snapped, his voice sharp with frustration.
Kenji kept his gaze on the passing scenery. "Because this is getting out of hand, Ryujin. That kid is not going to stop. He's going to come after us, and I don't want to end up dead."
Ryujin's eyes narrowed as he glanced at Kenji. "You shouldn't be escaping in the first place. You're part of this, whether you like it or not."
Kenji clenched his jaw. "I never signed up for this kind of mess. I joined the gang to settle a score, not to be hunted down by a maniac."
Ryujin scoffed, mocking Kenji.
"You're just a newbie. You're only here because you had a grudge against that filthy gang. You're not useful for anything else."
Kenji's face flushed with anger. "Don't you dare act like I'm worthless. I've done my share. But this is different. This is personal for that kid, and he's not going to stop until we're all dead."
Sato, who had been silent until now, turned his head to look at the two arguing men. His voice was quiet but firm. "You both need to stop bickering. We need to figure out how to survive this. Ryujin, Kenji's right. Takashi isn't going to stop-"
Ryujin immediately cut him off. "Shut up, Sato. Your only purpose here is to cover every piece of evidence about my crimes. But you screwed up by shooting Aiko instead of Takashi."
Sato clenched his jaw, a mix of shame and anger in his eyes. "I know I messed up. But if we keep fighting among ourselves, we're not going to make it."
Ryujin tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white.
"I know he's not going to kill us,That's why we need to stay ahead of him. We need to finish this before he gets to us." Sato says with an insecure voice
Kenji shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. "How? He's already proven he's willing to kill. What makes you think we can outsmart him?"
Ryujin's eyes were cold, calculating. "Because we have something he doesn't. We have the advantage of knowing his weaknesses."
Sato, looking out the window again, sighed deeply. "We also have the burden of knowing what we've done. We need to be prepared for the consequences—"
Ryujin sneered, glancing at Sato in the rearview mirror.
"Consequences? You think I give a damn about consequences?...I care about staying alive. If you want to protect your family, you better keep your head in the game and do exactly what I say."
As the car sped down the highway, the tension inside was palpable. Each of them knew that the next move they made could mean the difference between life and death. They were in a deadly game of cat and mouse, and the stakes had never been higher.
---Meanwhile...
With Yumi, tied tightly to a chair in her own living room, her eyes wide with fear. Hiro's cries echoed in the background, the sound of his distress slicing through the tense air. Takashi stood before her, Sato's revolver in hand, his expression hard and unreadable.
Takashi's gaze dropped to Yumi's swollen belly, and his lips twisted into a scornful smile.
"You know, it's ironic," he began, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Your husband's out there causing all sorts of chaos, and here you are, about to bring another life into this mess. What was he thinking?"
Yumi's breath hitched, her mind racing for the right words.
"I... I didn't know. He told me he was on a trip with his fellow officers," she stammered, the fear evident in her voice.
Takashi snorted, shaking his head.
"A convenient lie. Sato's been neck-deep in dirt, and you're telling me you had no clue? Didn't you ever question what kind of mess he was dragging you into? Especially with a son and another on the way?"
Yumi's eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling as she replied, "I trusted him. He's my husband. I thought he was doing his job, protecting people—"
"Protecting?" Takashi scoffed, pacing in front of her.
"He's protecting himself and his cronies. They killed someone very dear to me, And your husband played his part in that."
Yumi swallowed hard, the weight of Takashi's words pressing down on her.
"I... I'm sorry for your loss," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Takashi paused, his grip on the revolver tightening.
"Sorry doesn't bring her back. It doesn't change what your husband did. It doesn't change the fact that he chose this life over you and your children."
A tear rolled down Yumi's cheek, her heart aching with the realization of the gravity of her situation.
"Please," she whispered, her voice breaking,
"please don't hurt us. We're not part of this. I'm just trying to keep my children safe."
Takashi stared at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he lowered the gun slightly, his next words cold but not without a trace of empathy. "Keeping your children safe starts with knowing who you share your life with, Yumi. Remember that."
He took a step back, glancing around the disheveled room.
"I'm not here to harm you or your kids. But Sato... he needs to answer for what he's done."
With those final words, Takashi turned and walked toward the door, leaving Yumi tied in the chair, overwhelmed by a turbulent mix of relief and dread, her mind racing with the implications of what just transpired and the uncertain future that lay ahead.
As Takashi approached the door, his gaze landed on several framed awards on the wall—all journalism awards with Yumi's name on them. His footsteps paused; an idea was forming. Slowly, he turned back to Yumi, his approach more purposeful this time.
Ignoring Hiro's cries beside her, Takashi quickly moved to untie Yumi. As the ropes loosened, she slumped slightly from relief but kept her wary eyes fixed on him.
Once she was free, Takashi leaned in, his voice low and urgent.
"You're a journalist, Yumi. You know how to access the city's media networks, don't you?"
His glance shifted briefly towards the awards then back to her, signaling he had connected the dots.
Yumi rubbed her wrists, the circulation returning painfully. "Yes, I have connections... but what do you need them for?"
Stepping back to give her space, Takashi watched her carefully.
"I need to send a message, one that everyone can see. And it has to be done alerting the police. Can you get me access to the 3D billboards across the city?"
The urgency in his voice made Yumi hesitate. Helping him could put her in further danger, yet refusing might lead to more threats—or worse. She took a deep breath, her thoughts torn between her son crying by her side and her unborn child.
"I... I can help you. But why? What's this about?"
Takashi's expression remained impassive.
"It's important. It's the only way to make things right."
Feeling the gravity of his request, Yumi weighed her options. As a journalist, the instinct to uncover and broadcast the truth battled with her fear for her family's safety.
"And if I do this... will you promise to leave us alone? My children and I, will we be safe?"
He nodded once, firmly. "You have my word. Help me with this, and I won't come back. You and your children will never see me again."
With a heavy heart, Yumi agreed, her desire to protect her family winning over. "Okay, I'll do it. But no more violence. No more threats."
"Alright," Takashi said, a trace of stern in his tone. He stepped back, giving her room to breathe.
"Tell me what to do."
Yumi picked up Hiro, soothing him with gentle whispers before addressing Takashi again.
"I'll need my phone and laptop," she said, her voice more steady.
"Then I'll show you how to get what you need."
---Some time later...
Minutes after Yumi had breached the city's media network from her laptop, Takashi's expression shifted. A smirk crept over his face as he watched the system respond to her inputs. Just as Yumi began to relax, thinking her part was over, Takashi's demeanor changed. He gripped her wrist tightly, causing her to wince.
"You really thought I'd let you walk away unscathed, after what Sato has done?" His voice was low, his grip tightening. Yumi's heart raced; fear reflected in her eyes.
"I did what you asked! Please, my children..." Her plea was cut short by the sound of her son Hiro whimpering nearby, sensing the tension.
Takashi's eyes flickered momentarily towards Hiro, then back to Yumi.
"This isn't just about what you've done today. It's about making sure no loose ends are left..."