Chapter Text
Denki’s eyes scanned the dimly lit street, watching as the clusters of leaves danced in the cold breeze, swaying and swirling like the improvised movement of modern choreography. As they drew graceful patterns in the air, Denki could almost hear a faint melody playing along. He could sit and watch them for hours.
The buzzing of his phone shook him from his daze. The bright screen showed a message from an unknown number.
‘Hotel. Fifteen minutes. Room 1104. Penthouse suite. Confirm and delete.’
‘I’ll be there.’ He replied before erasing the conversation.
“Eleven-oh-four, eleven-oh-four, eleven-oh-four,” he repeated aloud to himself as he stood. The boy popped an earbud in one ear, lifted his hood, and set off, heading in the direction of the hotel.
The Prominence Hotel was a grandiose building with a stunning facade. The lobby had crimson carpet, vibrant gold detailing, and an exotic smell that Denki couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he was sure it was something expensive.
The blond quickly made his way through the lobby, keeping his head low, not wanting to raise any suspicions. There weren’t many people around, just the hotel staff, dressed in smart uniforms, and a couple of well-tailored guests at the bar. Walking with purpose, Denki made his way straight for the elevator.
He quickly pushed the ‘11’ button, bringing the elevator doors closed. Alone in the lift, he leaned back against the wall, sighing. Trying to be sneaky and subtle always filled him with anxiety.
After what felt like only a brief moment, the elevator came to a halt with a sharp ‘ding!’
As the doors opened, Denki emerged. Removing the earbud from his ear, he began searching for the room.
1104, 1104, 110-
“Ah.”
Denki cleared his throat nervously as he approached the door. After a moment of hesitation, he rapped three hard knocks against the door.
Seconds later, Denki heard the clunk of a deadbolt sliding open. He jumped back as a card quickly slid out from under the door with a short ‘shff!’ All of this, presumably, his cue to enter.
He leaned down, picked up the card, and swiped it through the lock. He took a deep breath to steady himself before finally pushing the door open.
As he made his way through the threshold, Denki was taken aback by the overt luxury and opulence of the room—plush red carpeting and gold accents consistent with the general aesthetic of the hotel, all concentrated in one area. All together, it was a bit overstimulating. The door had been a normal hotel room door, but the suite in which he now found himself was anything but.
On the opposite end of the room, a chair faced outwards toward a set of floor-to-ceiling windows through which the luminous cityscape was visible. On either side of the chair stood two guards—both facing Denki.
The blond opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off before he could make a peep.
“Denki Kaminari,” a voice lilted from behind the chair.
“Yep, that’s me,” Denki squeaked out. He swallowed hard, as best as he could, his mouth dry from the nearly overwhelming anxiety.
The man in the chair let out a chuckle. At an unhurried pace, the chair began to turn. Denki could feel his shirt clinging to his lower back from the sweat, each agonizing moment making his skin crawl.
To his surprise, the man in the chair looked nothing like he had expected. While he had been expecting a buff, gruff mafia boss, the man in the chair was a slim-figured, almost goth-looking man with hair so unnaturally black that it nearly tinged blue. The man looked far too young to be the boss of a yakuza gang. In fact, he didn’t look to be much older than Denki himself.
“You were expecting to see my father,” the man said, replying to the questions in Denki’s mind which had not yet been formed into words. “He does not appear for anything in-person unless it is of the utmost importance. I apologize if I am not… up to par with your expectations. That would be something the two of you have in common.”
‘Oh yikes,’ Denki thought to himself, ‘an inferiority complex. Well that’s fun.’
The blond found himself at a loss for words, rigid with fear that a verbal slip-up would set him at odds with the other man. The last thing he needed was to be on the shit list of a yakuza boss’s son. Clearly a master at reading people, the man replied to Denki’s thoughts once more.
“That was a joke.”
Forced laughter began to pour from Denki before he could even register what was happening. “Hahaha! Yeah! No, I feel ya. Livin’ up to parents’ expectations isn’t exactly my strong suit either,” he spurted as he nervously rubbed the back of his head.
“I would not think you would be here if it were,” the man ushered back with the quirk of an eyebrow.
“Haha… ha… yeah…” Denki offered stiffly. “So. Uh. What exactly is it that you guys want me to do? I was told ‘We’re gonna start you off small since you’re new. Give you a chance to prove yourself.’ But that wasn’t exactly uh… specific, ya know?”
The man let out a small “hm” before turning back to face the skyline. “Yes, father can be a bit of a stickler when it comes to vetting new recruits.” He paused, fiddling with one of the silver rings adorning his fingers. “You know the jeweler in Isetan Urawa?”
“Old Man Horikoshi’s place? Yeah. Why?”
“Yes. That’s the one. They have recently received a necklace known as The Queen’s Collar. This necklace rightfully belongs to my father. It is an old family heirloom that has been passed down for generations. On that necklace, there is an incredibly valuable stone. A 28-carat padparadscha sapphire—one of the biggest of its kind ever discovered. The stone itself is worth more than ¥160,000,000. The necklace was stolen by a rival gang while in transport from being cleaned. The jeweler has been asked to remove the stone from its setting. He was given a rather large endowment for the work, and an even larger sum of hush money.”
Perplexed, Denki decided to chime in. “Okay? I mean, that’s awful, and I’m sorry for your family’s loss. But what am I supposed to do about this?”
With an incredulous smile, the raven-haired man craned his neck, turning back towards Denki. “You, my dear, are going to steal it.”
The air seemed to be sucked out of Denki’s lungs as the fear and shock—which had been slowly dissipating—returned with a fiery vengeance, consuming him completely.
“You want me to steal a ¥160,000,000 sapphire?” Denki concluded, completely flummoxed by the proposition.
Standing, the man’s eyes meet Denki’s with a piercing, judgmental gaze, his expression anything but subtle. “Actually, we want you to return a priceless family heirloom to its rightful owner. In doing so, yes, you are to purloin the necklace, along with a number of other pieces of lesser value, from the jeweler. The other pieces will serve as a cover for the fact that you are after the sapphire. Thus, making it look like a right-place-right-time situation. Another run-of-the-mill robbery, if you will.”
As he spoke, he walked forward, inching his way closer to Denki with every slow, purposeful step. “You do want to be a part of us, yes? Well, we operate as a family. All of us. These men who stand beside me now are my kin—my brothers, no different in our eyes, than the ones reared by my father. And my father views them all, every member of our gang, as his sons and daughters. If you want to be a part of this family, you must prove that you care enough about it to put your life on the line. This job is more advanced than most entry-level tests, but it is the perfect opportunity for you to prove to Father, as well as to the rest of Hellflame, that you are truly invested in and committed to us.”
With a gulp, Denki nodded, sweat beading on his brow and palms laden with proof of his nervousness. ”I do. And I am. When do you want it to happen?”
The man gave a sinister smile, the sadistic grin splitting across his face. “The old man received the necklace yesterday, so he is likely to begin working on it soon. If you want to be successful, and I do suggest you succeed, I recommend no later than tomorrow. We will get in contact with you in a few days to verify your success and set up a delivery.” He paused, giving Denki a once-over before chuckling, “I think Papa’s Little Favorite was right about you. You seem like you will be a good fit for Hellflame. An interesting choice, but a good fit nonetheless.”
With a hesitant grin, Denki gave another nod.
“I won’t let you down.”