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Elegant knuckles struck mercilessly at the face below them, as they had done a dozen times in the last few minutes. With an unappetising crunch, the cheekbones finally gave way under the blows and the maltreated middle-aged man spat blood onto the ground between his feet. He hung his head. His words were slurred, distorted by loose teeth and blood in his mouth. "We have nothing more than this."A large hand yanked his head back by the hair, forcing him to look at his interrogator. "Don't take Bonten for a fool. We know you've been getting supplies from the Chinese behind our backs and peddling them without paying your share to us."
The tall man with lilac-coloured hair signalled an errand boy to bring him a rag. When he received it, he squatted down in front of the man tied to a chair and wiped the blood from his hands while scrutinising him from top to bottom. The prisoner averted his eyes. "We didn't do anything behind your back." Violet eyes did not take their eyes off the bound man as the man continued to speak in a velvety voice and handed the dirty rag back to the henchman. Leaning forward, he spoke at eye level with the piece of filth who had tried to double-cross Bonten. "Do you know who I am?" Eyes smeared with blood dripping from his forehead, the man looked at his interrogator.
"Haitani Ran."
Pain shot through his face as the telescopic baton struck his broken cheeks. Blow after blow crashed down on his battered face and the man bit his tongue to keep the pain from showing. Blood and tears coated his eyelashes. "You lie to my face even though you know who I am?" Ran straightened to his full height and looked down at the miserable petty criminal in front of him. With a rough kick, he kicked over the chair the man was tied to and struck him in the shin with the baton. The man whimpered and writhed under more blows, but with a wave from their leader, 2 henchmen pushed the traitor back to the ground with their feet on his chest. Ran glanced at the expensive watch on his wrist and then grabbed the immaculate suit jacket hanging over another chair. He had somewhere else to be tonight. Without another glance back at the prisoner, he took long strides towards the exit. "Take care of him."
Haitani Ran, one of Bonten's executive members, stepped over the threshold of the musty betting parlour outside. The stuffy odour of decades-old cigarette smoke and male sweat fell away from the comparatively tall man as he stepped onto the streets of Roppongi, and a haze of fresh air, barbecues and expensive perfumes welcomed him into the nightlife. As he shook a cigarette out of the packet, he noticed the blood spatter on his hands and clicked his teeth. He didn't like it when his work affected his appearance. Especially not on a day like today. His long fingers clamped the cigarette between his lips and under graceful eyebrows, which were now drawn together, he rubbed the remaining blood from his hands with a handkerchief.
A few metres behind him, something banged against the door of the supposed betting shop he had just left. Ran lit his cigarette. Either you did what Bonten said, or you suffered the consequences.
The well-dressed man strolled leisurely through the evening streets of Roppongi. He had grown up here in the small side streets between large fashion shops and exotic foreign artisan shops. The neighbourhood had an elegance and international flair that had always impressed Ran. As a young boy, he hadn't realised what a posh neighbourhood his foster family had lived in, but after he and his brother had gotten into more and more fights with other teenagers and also made other districts unsafe at night, he had realised how special the beauty of Roppongi was. Modern, elegant, glamorous and yet with a dark heart that, behind the façade, ensured that the money never stopped flowing through the coffers and purses of the big players.
A bright female laugh drew his attention to a group of men outside a luxurious nightclub, helping impressively dressed hostesses out of their limousine. On the wall behind them was a huge advert advertising the new Loewe collection featuring a Japanese actor. Ran took a puff on his cigarette and smiled inconspicuously to himself. If he hadn't decided to follow Kurokawa Izana, he could have been the one to show off the extravagant silk suits and leather jackets on the catwalks of the world. He had never forgotten his earlier dreams of being a model. But just as the brands that lined the billboards and fashion shops along the streets of Roppongi had changed, Ran was no longer the dreamy boy he had once been. It was almost amusing to him that he had thought back then that the fashion world would be able to offer him what his current life had in store for him. For too long he had ignored what someone like Kurokawa had known about him since their first meeting - that he had violence in his blood. Sure, he also had a taste for the finer things in life - impeccable personal style, good food, beauty - but all of that only grew out of the empty darkness that had always lain dormant within him.
He wondered what Kurokawa would say if he could see Bonten and Kakucho now. Ran liked to imagine that such an empire was exactly what Kurokawa had wanted to build.
Without hesitation, long fingers stubbed out the cigarette on a nearby wall and Ran jogged up the stairs towards Roppongi Hills Tower. In front of him stretched the forecourt of the tower block, still crowded at this time of night with couples sitting on the benches alongside the large spider statue and putting their heads together in the shade of the treetops. But Ran paid them no further attention and headed straight for the lift that would take him up to the Sky Deck. Normally a popular excursion destination for tourists and residents, the Tower and Sky Deck were closed to the public today. A small advantage of its special position within the city. Completely alone as he entered the observatory, the sound of his expensive shoes echoed through the spacious room. It was dark. As a graceful shadow in the darkness, he moved through the room and finally stopped on the outside terrace. With a firm grip, his previously blood-stained hands closed around the steel railing and he took in the breathtaking view. The only source of light was the sea of lights below him. The wind carried the distant sounds of nightlife up to his viewing platform. The city pulsated beneath his grasp and the Tokyo Tower illuminated the distant night sky in a faint red. Casinos, bars and the drug trade pumped through Roppongi's veins and it was his doing. Like a spider, he had begun spinning his web around this part of the city more than 20 years ago and could now call it his own. Sano Manjiro stood at the head of Tokyo and as long as breath flowed through his body, Ran would serve him in memory of his former leader. But even if Mikey ruled Tokyo's underworld, Roppongi belonged to Ran.
Even lost in thought, the approaching footsteps and rustling of clothing did not escape the attention of the man who was only one of two halves that formed a whole. Leaning his elbows on the steel railing behind him, Ran turned to greet the visitor. Rindou stepped close and held out a cardboard package to Ran with both hands, emblazoned with the logo of a nearby patisserie. Purple eyes, a few shades lighter than his own, curved into a smile that made his brother's face look like a child's.
"Happy birthday, Nii-chan."
Rindou had always been the more emotional of the two Haitani brothers. The little brother who had been too wild for his own good, constantly getting scrapes and fractures from careless climbing, and who had been too impulsive as a teenager to ever be able to negotiate diplomatically with other gangs. Ran would always be loyal to Kurokawa Izana's legacy and do any dirty work for Bonten that needed to be done. But everything he did, he ultimately did for his brother. Unimpressed, he looked down his nose at his brother and then turned back to the view of the city. "Stop always pulling that face, Rin, you're not ten years old anymore." Rindou elbowed him half seriously in the side. "Stop complaining you lanky fuck, or I'll eat your Montblanc all by myself." Ran turned to his brother with a look of disbelief. "You wouldn't dare." Laughing, Rindou pushed Ran away from him and opened his mouth wide as he held the dessert over his face. Ran tried to grab his brother by the collar of his jacket, but he only slipped out of his jacket and stuck out his tongue. "This is how you wish your big brother a happy birthday, you little shit?" The ensuing scuffle between the two brothers made the sounds of the city fade into the background under their indignant shouts and catty insults. Since Ran had both longer arms and the better technique (definitely not because Rindou was only pretending to fight, he was far too stubborn for that), it wasn't long before they were both out of breath and leaning against the glass barrier.
They both pushed their sweaty hair out of their faces and looked at each other.
"Montblanc reconciliation?"
Ran grabbed the box Rindou held out to him.
"Give it to me already."
"Happy birthday, Ran. Even at 37, you're still obnoxious."
With the first bite of dessert already in his mouth, Ran mumbled a barely intelligible "Thank you" and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. In the end, that was what had kept them alive all these years. Roppongi would have fallen to them anyway, Bonten or no Bonten. But the Haitani brothers didn't need a team. As long as they had each other.