Chapter Text
“Here, you’re next target - Miya Atsumu.” Kiyoomi looked wary as Iizuna handed him the new file.
“I recognize this name,” Kiyoomi spoke as if it was obvious.
“I thought you might’ve. He’s in the Yakuza, pretty high-ranking too. This job is risky, but it pays well. You’ll just have to go undercover for a little until you find your window of opportunity.”
“So, what’s the pay-out then?”
“Three million. Hit’s by one of Inarizaki’s rival gangs, Fukurodani. This is important, if you can’t do it, back out .” Iizuna’s eyes told Kiyoomi that he knew he could do the job, no doubt.
“That won’t be an issue. I’ll do it.” Kiyoomi thanked Iizuna for his time and made his way home, fully anticipating having to pack quite a bit for this job.
Well, Kiyoomi sort of knew that the Inarizaki clan was known for being absolutely unrelenting and brutal when it came to those who disobeyed them; however their behavior didn’t seem to potray that style at all. Almost every member was drinking, shirtless, and playing card games. To be frank, Kiyoomi felt entirely overdressed wearing a full black suit.
Just then, Kita Shinsuke, the current kumicho of Inarizaki, entered dressed just as - if not more - professionally as Kiyoomi himself. Kita was rumored to be sophisticated and calm under pressure, so he can’t say he was surprised.
“Hello, I’m Kita Shinsuke, yer kumicho, please forgive my kobun for their behavior.” Kita’s voice was smooth and comforting almost in an unsettling way.
“It’s no problem, I don’t mind, Kita-san.”
“Well then, if ya wouldn’t mind following me,” Kita said as he led the way towards the back of the yakuza-owned bar. The back door had a bodyguard, who immediately stood down as Kita approached and opened the door for them. The back room seemed almost like an urban apartment complex; although Kiyoomi was sure more unsavory acts took place than it looked like.
Finally, they reached the end of the first floor hallway and entered a code to open the door. Kita gestured Kiyoomi to take a seat in front of a rather large, embellished desk.
“My sources give ya high praise, Sakusa-kun. I hope, as yer kumicho, I can offer ya the chance ta thrive just as well at Inarizaki.”
“I can only hope for the same, Kita-san. Thank you for taking me on,” Kiyoomi already didn’t like this job. It was more deeply undercover than he’d anticipated, but with the tight security, this hit may just take little longer to execute than usual.
“Well, ta help ya ease into things here, yer gonna be shadowing one of our most respected members, Miya Atsumu.” Right on the money, literally , Kiyoomi ironically thought. He’d almost laughed at how well of a turn things started to take now.
“I appreciate it, Kita-san,” Kiyoomi finished as a knock on the door was heard.
“That should be Riseki-kun here ta take ya ta yer room. Come on in.” The door opened to reveal a younger man, maybe 23 or 24, with dark spiked hair.
“Please follow me, Sakusa-san” Riseki said, turning around and exiting. Kiyoomi quickly bowed to Kita and left the room to catch up to Riseki. He followed him down to a door on the left side of the hall.
“The code for this room is 8461, don’t forget it. I’ll leave ya here, yer bags are already in the room. Good evening Sakusa-san,” Riseki said with bow and left. Kiyoomi looked around at the upscale room, it was pretty bland but would do for a - hopefully - short job.
Knock, Knock, Knock. Kiyoomi woke up to a loud banging on his door, slightly startled. It’s 6:30 in the morning, who the hell is knocking on my door , Kiyoomi complained angrily in his mind. He swung open the door to see, probably the last person he expected, Miya Atsumu.
“Heya, Omi-kun, be ready by 7, we’re goin’ out,” Miya said with a slight smirk at the sight of Kiyoomi’s pajamas and — wait what did he just call me?? Kiyoomi thought with a look of disgust on his face.
“Don’t call me that,” Sakusa glared aggressively at him.
“Whatever, Omi-Omi, see ya in a half hour,” Miya said as he smiled and walked away. God, Kiyoomi wanted to punch that smug look off his face. The faster he killed him the less risk of brain damage — or something.
“So, tell me about yerself, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu dropped casually during the car ride, as Sakusa shot him an incredulous look.
“My family’s been dead as long as I can remember, I’ve been in the yakuza basically my whole life, and I hate when people give me stupid nicknames,” that last part just made Miya laugh, even though Kiyoomi said that to piss him off. What he said was true, or well most of it. His family, and anyone he’s ever cared for, is dead, but instead of yakuza his whole life he’d been a mercenary. Cold hearted, unemotional, and apathetic was the stereotypical personality for every hit man, and Kiyoomi fit it to the T. I mean, who would take risky jobs like this if they actually had someone something they cared about? Kiyoomi felt — is — cold .