Chapter 4: Family Matters

  Scene 1: The Invitation (Or Death Sentence?)

  The bell rang, signaling the end of another chaotic day at Fujihama High. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, rubbing my temples as I stepped into the hallway. I survived. Somehow, I actually survived another day of insanity.

  My only goal now was to get home, throw myself onto my bed, and pretend for at least a few hours that my life wasn’t a spiraling disaster. I walked toward the school gates, weaving through clusters of students who, thankfully, seemed to be giving me a wide berth.

  That was my first warning.

  The second came when I stepped outside—and the crowd collectively gasped.

  I barely had time to register the sudden shift in atmosphere before I spotted them.

  A sleek row of black luxury cars lined the street in front of the school, their polished surfaces gleaming ominously under the afternoon sun. The tinted windows made it impossible to see inside, but the sight alone sent a cold shiver crawling down my spine.

  And then they emerged.

  Men in sharp black suits stepped out in perfect synchronization, their movements smooth and disciplined. Each one had the unmistakable presence of someone who could break a man in half without blinking.

  The murmurs from the crowd grew louder.

  "Is that… the Sakamoto syndicate?"

  "What are they doing here?"

  "Did someone anger them? Are we about to witness a murder?!"

  I had an awful feeling that I was the "someone" in question.

  The lead enforcer, a tall, broad-shouldered man with neatly slicked-back hair, stepped forward, his dark eyes unreadable as he regarded me. Then, with precise formality, he bowed slightly before speaking.

  "Young Master, your father requests your presence."

  The world around me tilted violently. My vision blurred slightly.

  "Wait, WHAT?!"

  My mouth opened and closed uselessly, no words coming out. My brain frantically tried to piece together a response that didn’t involve immediately collapsing on the spot.

  Tetsuya Nakamura, who had been standing just behind me, nodded approvingly, arms crossed in satisfaction. "It’s only natural for the boss to meet with the head of the family," he said confidently.

  "I AM NOT THE BOSS."

  My internal screaming didn’t make it past my lips. Instead, I just gawked at him in horror, my body frozen in place.

  From the corner of my vision, I spotted Reina Kisaragi, her eyes narrowing sharply as she scribbled something into her ever-present notebook. Her hand moved with furious precision.

  "Emergency Plan: Drag Kenji Out of the Criminal World Before It’s Too Late."

  I barely had time to process that before Akari Tachibana leaned in, her warm breath brushing against my ear as she whispered teasingly, "Better not keep Daddy waiting, Ryuji."

  My stomach plummeted.

  "WHY IS SHE ENJOYING THIS?!"

  A suffocating silence followed as the suited men waited patiently for my response. I looked between them, Tetsuya, Reina, Akari—none of them offering me a way out of this nightmare.

  I let out a slow, pained sigh, resignation sinking deep into my bones.

  "This is how I die, isn’t it?" I muttered.

  And with no way to escape, I was ushered into the black car.

  The door clicked shut. The engine purred to life.

  My fate was sealed.

  Scene 2: Dinner with the Devil (Genzo Sakamoto)

  I had never been more convinced that I was about to die.

  The black car hummed quietly as it cruised through the city, the tinted windows turning the neon skyline into streaks of distant, unreachable light. Sitting rigidly in the back seat, I stared straight ahead, hands clenched in my lap as the silent, terrifying Yakuza enforcer beside me sat completely still, like a statue trained to kill on command.

  "Maybe I can still escape," I thought desperately. "Maybe if I just—"

  "Don’t even think about it," the man grunted without looking at me.

  I stiffened. Great. They could read my mind now.

  The car eventually slowed to a smooth stop, pulling up in front of an exclusive, high-end Japanese restaurant. The kind of place where even breathing wrong might cost more than my rent. The enforcer stepped out first, then held the door open expectantly.

  Swallowing my rising panic, I forced myself to move, legs feeling like cement as I stepped onto the pavement. The restaurant’s sliding doors opened immediately, as if they had been expecting me.

  Which, of course, they had.

  A suited host bowed deeply before leading me past the main dining area, where soft conversations hummed over the clinking of delicate ceramic dishes. The scent of fresh sushi and grilled wagyu lingered in the air, but my stomach had no interest in food—only an overwhelming sense of impending doom.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  We stopped before a set of shoji doors. The host slid them open, revealing a dimly lit private dining room.

  A long, polished wooden table stretched across the room, adorned with immaculately arranged dishes. Expensive sake bottles lined the far wall, a soft flickering lantern casting eerie shadows against the traditional decor.

  At the head of the table, sitting with the unnerving stillness of a coiled predator, was Genzo Sakamoto.

  I nearly forgot how to breathe.

  The air itself seemed heavier in his presence. His sharp, piercing eyes locked onto me the moment I stepped inside, pinning me in place like a butterfly on a collector’s board. He barely moved, yet his sheer aura of power made my skin crawl.

  "I AM GOING TO DIE."

  With an almost lazy motion, Genzo gestured to the seat across from him.

  "Oh God, he expects me to sit. What if this is a test? What if sitting wrong gets me killed? Is there a correct way to sit in front of a crime lord?!"

  Fighting the urge to pass out, I walked stiffly to the chair and lowered myself down as carefully as possible, fully expecting a hidden trap to spring at any moment.

  A tense silence settled over the room. The soft sound of the shoji doors sliding shut behind me felt final.

  Then, Genzo finally spoke.

  "You’re late."

  His voice was deep, smooth, and edged with the quiet authority of someone who never needed to raise it to command obedience.

  I stared at him, my soul hovering outside my body.

  "...Uh," I croaked, my throat dry as dust. "Yeah. Traffic?"

  The silence that followed could have killed a lesser man.

  Genzo exhaled through his nose, his gaze unreadable. I had no idea if he was amused or mentally calculating how best to dispose of my corpse.

  "You’re different," he said after a long pause, tilting his head slightly. "More... reserved."

  My entire body locked up.

  "Oh no. He suspects something. He knows. He knows. I’m dead. They’re going to pull out swords and I’m going to be reduced to a cautionary tale in Yakuza history."

  I forced out a strained laugh. "Ahaha... yeah, just, uh… reflecting. Growth, y’know?" I made a vague gesture, praying to every divine entity that my pathetic attempt at deflection would be enough.

  The tension in the room stretched unbearably.

  Then, Genzo smirked.

  "Good," he said, swirling the dark liquid in his cup. "It’s time you started taking your place seriously."

  My brain nearly short-circuited.

  "HE BELIEVES ME?!"

  I barely resisted the urge to collapse onto the table in relief. Instead, I nodded solemnly, like I actually had any idea what was going on.

  A soft clink echoed as Genzo poured another drink, sliding a small ceramic cup across the table toward me.

  I stared at it.

  "Is this another test? If I drink, does that mean I accept my fate? If I don’t, do they gut me for disrespect?"

  Slowly, I reached for the cup, handling it like an unstable bomb. The warm liquid inside barely rippled as I lifted it, and I took the smallest possible sip, desperately hoping I didn’t just sign my own death warrant.

  Genzo watched me carefully, as if measuring something invisible.

  Then, after a long, unreadable pause, he set his own cup down with a quiet thud.

  "War is coming." His voice carried an eerie weight, the calm certainty of someone who had already decided how the battle would end. "You’ll need to be ready."

  I nearly choked.

  "NO THANK YOU."

  I nodded slowly, outwardly composed—while internally screaming at max volume.

  The shoji doors slid open once more, signaling the end of the conversation. Genzo leaned back, his smirk widening slightly. "That’s enough for tonight," he said smoothly. "We’ll speak again soon."

  I rose shakily, bowing so deeply I nearly headbutted the table, before stumbling toward the exit like a man barely escaping a lion’s den.

  The moment I stepped outside, the cool night air rushed over me—and I realized I’d been holding my breath the entire time.

  The black car was already waiting. As the enforcer gestured for me to get in, one final thought ran through my exhausted mind:

  "I am so, so doomed."

  Scene 3: Reina’s Plan (And Kenji Accidentally Makes Things Worse)

  By the time I reached school the next morning, I was still mentally recovering from last night’s dinner.

  I had spent the entire car ride home in stunned silence, staring blankly at the city lights as the weight of Genzo Sakamoto’s words pressed down on my soul.

  "War is coming."

  What war? Who was fighting? Why did I have to be involved?!

  By the time I crawled into bed, I had come to one single, irrefutable conclusion:

  "I am so, so doomed."

  But despite everything, I had survived. Somehow.

  And so, walking into Fujihama High, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for another day of misunderstandings, hoping—praying—that things wouldn’t escalate any further.

  That was my first mistake.

  Because the moment I stepped into the courtyard, Reina Kisaragi was already waiting for me.

  Her arms were crossed, her notebook clutched tightly in one hand like a holy text, her sharp glasses glinting in the morning light as she stared me down with an intensity that made my stomach churn.

  I stopped mid-step. Immediate danger detected.

  "...Good morning?" I tried weakly.

  "You’re joining the student council," Reina declared, completely ignoring my greeting.

  I blinked. "What."

  The words didn’t process. Maybe I misheard. Maybe she meant something else.

  Reina pushed her glasses up with a sharp, determined motion. "Starting today, I will personally ensure your reform. The best way to do that is by keeping you under direct supervision. Welcome to the student council."

  "Welcome to the—what?! No! That’s not how this works!"

  I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could form a single coherent thought, Tetsuya Nakamura appeared at my side, arms crossed as he nodded approvingly at Reina’s words.

  "Ah, I see," Tetsuya mused, his voice dripping with admiration. "A power move. As expected of the Boss."

  I snapped my head toward him so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. "Excuse me?!"

  Tetsuya smirked. "You’re expanding your influence, aren’t you? First the delinquents, now the student council—control over both the school’s muscle and administration. That’s some serious strategy."

  "NO, IT IS NOT!"

  "I—WHAT?!" Reina blurted, finally shaken from her composed, authoritarian stance.

  But it was too late.

  The surrounding students overheard. The whispers started instantly.

  "Kenji’s taking over the student council too?!"

  "That means he’ll control everything!"

  "A true kingpin! The rumors were right!"

  I felt my soul leave my body.

  How? HOW?! How did a misunderstanding about me getting "reformed" turn into me being some criminal mastermind seizing control of the school?!

  My eyes darted desperately to Reina, expecting—begging—her to shut this down, to put an end to the chaos before it spiraled out of control.

  Instead, she stood there, completely frozen, staring at me like she had just been told her worst nightmare had physically manifested.

  Her grip on her notebook tightened. I swore I could hear the paper crinkling under the pressure.

  "...What have I done," she whispered, horror dawning in her voice.

  I sighed deeply, pressing my fingers to my temples, accepting my fate.

  "My life is a joke."

  And just like that, my already out-of-control reputation somehow got even worse.