Young Writers Society

Nendou took fifteen minutes to count and recount his money while his husband towered over Shun with a sneer. Shun made eye contact with Hairo, taking out his Swiss Army knife and playing with it nonchalantly. Nendou began to recount the money again, but Hairo turned to stop him.

“We’ve kept the Jet Black Wings long enough, Carpenter,” Hairo said, putting a hand on Nendou’s arm. Why he used Nendou’s nickname, Shun had no idea, since everyone in the alley knew what Nendou’s real name was. “He needs to get back to work.”

Nendou leered over Kaidou. “Bring out that god-damned knife in front of my husband again and I will not hesitate to slit your throat.” Traditional threat number one.

“Then you won’t get your money back, Carpenter,” Shun spat, flicking the knife open and holding it to Nendou’s neck. Traditional threat number two.

Nendou nodded and stood back. He tucked his money in his wallet and turned towards where his goons were waiting. “Have fun fucking Mullet-Wearing Aren. Get some of his money to me while you’re at it. The next client is waiting. ” Not a traditional goodbye.

Shun waited until Nendou was out of earshot before punching the wall, sweat droplets staining the ground and his eyes straining out of his sockets. “How did he know about that, damnit?”

He turned to walk out the alley, fingering the note that Nendou had slipped into his pocket. Shun blended into the crowd with ease. His apartment was across the street.

As soon as Shun slipped off his shoes and his habitual “I’m home!” echoed through the house, his roommate raced down the stairs and greeted him with a hug. His Swiss Army knife, which was in his back pocket, was deftly stolen by Yumehara as she danced into the living room. “So, how was your day of definitely not doing mafia work?” She put her legs under the heated table and beckoned him to join her.

“Pretty normal. I met a hot guy,” Shun answered, putting the note that Nendou had left on the table. He slipped off his hoodie with a satisfied sigh. “Nendou found out about it somehow and teased me about it. He gave me a note.”

“The day you learn how to speak in long sentences is the day pigs fly,” she teased. She gave him his knife back to grab at the note again, which he deftly held out of her reach. “What was the hot guy like?”

Shun opened the note, reading it quickly and handing it to Yumehara for her to read. “Well, he let me go, which is a good thing.”

Yumehara finished reading the note and looked up skeptically. “Let… you go? He’s a cop or something? People don’t just let the Jet Black Wings go.” She threw the note back at him and he caught it in between his fingers.

“If I told you that I got in a car with Mullet-Wearing Aren, would you believe me?” Shun grinned at Yumehara’s shocked face and waved the note around in his fingers. “He said some shit about how I wouldn’t be able to go to the police anyway and that I’m cute so he’ll let me go or whatever.”

A squeal pierced through the apartment as Yumehara clasped her hands on Shun’s shoulders. “Okay so. Wait. You got in a car with Mullet-Wearing Aren, lived, and he called you cute, and he’s really hot?” She was practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

“I think that you’re focusing on the wrong thing here,” Shun pointed out as he was shaken to an inch of his life. The note fell out of his hand and onto the table as he grasped Yumehara’s shoulders to steady her.

“I’m definitely not.” She got up and moved towards the kitchen. “This calls for a celebration to a long life and hot boys!”

Shun sighed and pulled out the note, which listed two names: Toritsuka Reita and Dea Matsuda. Shun laid on the floor and sighed. I guess Nendo wants them dead and for me to do the dirty work. Yumehara walked out of the kitchen with two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka. He better pay off some of my debt for this.

She slid a shot, already filled with vodka, towards Shun and raised her glass. “To a long life and hot guys!” she proclaimed, knocking the shot back.

Shun echoed the statement and action, reaching towards his phone to do some digging on the two victims.

—

As soon as Shun laid his eyes on Toritsuka, he knew why Nendo wanted him dead. The asshole wouldn’t leave the blonde alone, dragging his fingertips up her tanned thigh and fingering a plastic bag of powder in his far pocket. The girl held her shot glass away from the guy and tried to get as far away from him as she could in the crowded bar.

Toritsuka only stopped his advances after she slapped him for caressing the tattoos on her face. He sprouted the generic guilt trippy stuff and left, immediately spotting a new girl to harass.

Shun walked up to the bar besides the girl, nodded, and paid for her drink. He walked towards Toritsuka and the poor redhead who was politely telling him to leave her alone.

“She doesn’t want you around, asshole,” Shun yelled over the loud music. “She’s not interested.” The girl, wearing pigtails, looked at him with gratitude.

“Look, dude, I know you’re trying to play the white knight, but I found this babe first,” Toritsuka spat. Shun didn’t think that Toritsuka deserved the same hair color as Mullet-Wearing Aren. “Why don’t you fuck off and screw the bitch who slapped me?”

Shun rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you use your eyes and know when to stop?” He grabbed the other girl’s arm and whisked her behind him, motioning for her to go. She obliged. “People like you are the reason why no one likes men.”

Toritsuka laughed and mocked him. “Oh, my poor toxic masculinity is broken cause a guy wants a piece of ass! Grow up.” His voice took on a more serious tone. “Let’s take this outside, fucker, and I’ll show you what a true man looks like.”

“What, you’re gonna suck my dick?” Shun grinned at Toritsuka’s disgusted face. “Tempting.”

Toritsuka stood up and grabbed Shun’s shirt, dragging him out the door. Shun fingered the knife in the back pocket of his jeans. As soon as they were outside, crisp air smacking Shun in the face, Toritsuka slammed him into a wall.

“I’ll bite your dick off before you pull that gay shit on me,” he growled, moving his hands to choke Shun. Shun stayed perfectly calm. “Gay fuckers like you need to be taught a lesson.”

For once, Shun was glad that Nendo sent him out on a mission like this.

—

It was a little weird that Nendo just had his mafia members standing by and watching Toritsuka die, but Shun didn’t think much of it. The mobsters helped Shun into a new change of clothing and rubbed the blood off of his skin. They dragged Toritsuka’s corpse in the car and asked him where to go to drop off the body. Seven members stayed behind to clean up the mess that Shun had left.

One of the gangsters - Dia was her code name, if Shun remembered correctly - was sending a video to Nendo. Shun had a gut feeling that Dia was ordered to record Toritsuka’s death.

“That better not get out on the internet,” Shun scolded as he put on a meshed shirt. Not his ideal sense of fashion, but it worked. “I’m trying to be discreet.”

“Says the person who lets his victims go sometimes,” Dia retorted, pressing send. She went into her camera app and deleted the video.

Shun didn’t grace her with an answer and threw on the jean jacket provided to him instead. Some of the gangsters tried to coerce him into wearing a bright pink belt. He refused and looked out the window.

His eyes widened as he waved at the driver. “Hey, Pep. Stop. We’re here.” The car screeched to a stop in front of a pig pen, where another car was waiting.

Shun stepped outside with a sigh, swinging the corpse - now in a body bag - over his shoulder and walked out. He tossed the bag over the fence and jumped over it, and began to unzip it.

“Didn’t think I’d see you around here,” a familiar voice said from the other car. Mullet-Wearing Aren stepped out; he was wearing high heels and tight pants and also had a body bag slung over a shoulder. He looks good, Shun thought as he dumped Toritsuka out of the bag for the pigs sniffing at it. He must have been dressed up for this too.

“Nendo’s setting us up, I think,” Shun muttered as Mullet-Wearing Aren hopped the fence on the other side, where more pigs were waiting. “He gave me a mesh shirt and everything.”

Mullet-Wearing Aren waited until he dumped out a body with a gunshot wound to the head to continue. “Yeah,” he purred, sauntering towards Shun. He dragged a finger down his chest. “It looks good.”

Shun gave him a blank stare as he looked at the other body. He recognized the long, neatly-kept blond hair from his research. “You killed the Dea chick.”

“You killed the Toritsuka guy.” Mullet-Wearing Aren leaned over the part of his body that wasn’t already eaten by the pigs. “Really violently, too. Did you get a special order to decimate him or somethin’? I sure didn’t.”

“Nah. I did that on my own.” Shun crouched over the body as well, taking the drugs out of Toritsuka’s pocket. “He was trying to use date rape drugs and harassed two girls in the span of 10 minutes. It was disgusting.” Shun spit on Toritsuka’s body. “Good riddance.”

Mullet-Wearing Aren’s eyes flashed with a dangerous anger before he sighed. “It’s a very good thing that you did a number on his ass before I got to him.”

Shun stood up. “So, what’d the chick do?” Change the subject before he kills me change the subject before he kills me change the subject before he kills me. He gestured to the half-eaten Dea. “Why’d she get targeted?”

Mullet-Wearing Aren relaxed before saying: “I think she flirted with Hairo or something. She was repeating about how she didn’t know that ‘he’ was taken by the head of the PK mafia.”

Shun eyed the corpse and said nothing, making a mental note to not yell at Nendo later. He glanced at his mud-stained sneakers while he felt Mullet-Wearing Aren’s gaze on his head.

A car revving caught both of their attention; it was Shun’s car, with Dia leaning out of the back to yell something unintelligible. Mullet-Wearing Aren lifted Shun up with ease and set him on his feet.

“So.” Mullet-Wearing Aren looked Shun up and down, settling on looking at Shun’s mostly-bare chest. “The offer still stands, you know.”

“I’m still not interested,” Shun forced out through the butterflies in his stomach. “You’re not that appealing, Mullet-Wearing Aren.”

“Oh, call me Aren. Mullet-Wearing Aren makes me sound like your superior.” Aren leaned in to whisper in Shun’s ear. “Which I’m not. We’re every bit as equal, you and I.”

Shun tilted his head to blow in the shell of Aren’s ear, delighted when he noticed the tips of Aren’s ears turning red. “Pretty sure that I’m better.”

Aren jerked away and Shun gave him a shit-eating grin. Give but you can’t take, huh? “Cute,” he found himself saying out loud as the car revved again. Pep was glaring at him through the driver window. “Gotta go before Carpenter’s minions kill me.”

As he climbed in the truck, grinning ear to ear, he waved goodbye to Aren. Aren waved sheepishly back. The truck drove away with a very flustered Shun, who couldn't understand for the life of him why he felt like flying.