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The doors opened, and Nakahara Chuuya stepped inside, accompanied by a young woman in an emerald-green dress on one arm and a cane in the other. Both scanned the room before walking toward the other executives.
“Hey, Dazai, I didn’t know Chuuya needed a cane?”
“He doesn’t. Why are you asking, Atsushi?”
“Well… he just walked in with a lady holding one.”
“Ah. He’s carrying it for her. Always the gentleman for his girl.”
Atsushi raised his eyebrows at the tone. Dazai was clearly telling the truth, but he couldn’t resist sounding annoyed.
Atsushi decided to ignore it. “His girl? Who is she? I didn’t find anything about her in my research.”
“She’s the last executive. The one you couldn’t find info about,” Dazai replied, watching Atsushi’s eyes widen. “Mori’s daughter, Y/N. Or, as some call her, the Princess of the Mafia.”
“Let me guess—she’s gifted too?”
“You guessed correctly. A copy ability. One touch, skin-to-skin, and she copies your gift. Doesn’t mean she can use it right away, though. She still has to learn how it works. Think of it like books: she gets the book, reads it, and then she knows how to use it. She can stack abilities, but the more she carries, the more strain on her body. And that’s something she really can’t afford.”
Atsushi frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Ever since she was little, she’s had joint problems. Hypermobility disorder, fibromyalgia, small fiber neuropathy, back issues… They were still researching when I left, so the list might be longer now. Doesn’t mean she’s any less dangerous than the other executives, so watch out. She became the best mentor in the mafia because of it. She doesn’t accept complaining about pain or fatigue. Even I couldn’t convince her to go easy on me,” he sighed.
Kunikida appeared behind them. “She must be an amazing woman. I’d like to learn her methods.”
“KUNIKIDA! How dare you! She’s a cruel woman!”
“Really? What did she do? Refuse to commit suicide with you?”
“Not only that, but she said she preferred fighting her illness over committing suicide with me! She could get rid of her pain and make me happy!” Dazai whined.
Kunikida laughed. “Smart woman. I like her already.”
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“Why is that idiot yelling again?” Chuuya muttered.
Y/N laughed softly. “Who knows. Probably something Dazai-related.”
She released his arm and took her cane.
“Let’s walk around a bit. This event is supposed to strengthen relations between the major companies in the city. Father wants us to gather intel in case our information missed something.”
“Alright, my love. Come get me if you need anything. I brought your medication too,” he said, his expression softening with worry.
“I know. Thank you. I’m fine for now—I took some before we left. Try not to beat up Dazai.”
With that, she walked toward a group from a tech company.
Chuuya sighed. “Let’s do this,” and headed in the opposite direction.
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After an hour of conversations, the inevitable happened: Dazai found her.
“So, my sweet Y/N, how are you doing?”
“Hello, Dazai. I’m fine. How’s the Agency?”
“Great! Still pretending to be a foreigner who doesn’t speak Japanese? Or does that trick not work anymore?”
“You know it doesn’t work as well as it used to. People recognize me more often now…”
Dazai laughed. “That’s what happens when you help save the city. Could be worse—they could start screaming when they see you.”
“I’m not you.”
“True. Thank god. Unlike you, I have taste.”
“Taste? Since when? And what do you mean I don’t have taste?”
That amused smile of his was never a good sign.
“You don’t see me banging a certain red-headed executive. Ergo, I have taste and you don’t.”
Y/N’s annoyance was immediate. “I’m not ‘banging a certain redhead.’ Dating, yes. Banging? No.”
Dazai’s smirk softened into something almost sad. “Let me guess—pelvic muscle issues?”
Silence.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Mori can’t help you?”
“How did you even know that? And no, I’m not talking about this with my father. I barely accept it myself. And—not that it’s any of your business—there are other things we can do.”
Dazai realized he’d pushed too far and backed off.
“Okay, okay. Relax. I just did some research when we worked together. Had to know what I could ask of you on missions. We were best friends, after all.”
Y/N sighed. “Thanks… I guess. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find the redhead I’m definitely not banging.”
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While searching for Chuuya, she overheard whispers.
“Look at her. Playing the sympathy card with that cane and showing off her scars.”
“I bet she seduces people for information.”
“I’d work with them if it meant getting her in my bed.”
After all these years, nothing had changed. Her mind was the reason she rose so high in the mafia, yet people always assumed she slept her way up or used her illness for pity. She tried giving them the benefit of the doubt—after all, a 22-year-old with a cane wasn’t common—but the words still stung.
She spotted Chuuya. He had heard the comments too. His expression was murderous as he marched toward the group.
“Playing the sympathy card, you say?” he snapped. “You wouldn’t last a day with what she deals with. Constant doctor visits. Multiple medications. Not being able to do what she wants because she might not function the next day. Sitting hurts. Standing hurts. She had to rest yesterday just to be here tonight, and she’ll probably need to rest tomorrow too. She worries about having a family because of her illness. She worries about passing it on. There’s only so much you can do for nerve pain.”
His voice rose with every sentence.
“And you know what? She still showed up. She was excited to talk to tech companies. She wanted to meet you. Yes, she might go quiet or start crying, but she still came.”
Y/N stood frozen, tears in her eyes.
“Chuuya…”
He turned immediately. “Y/N. Are you alright?”
She walked toward him, leaning heavily on her cane. “Not really. I need my medication.”
He didn’t hesitate. He pulled the meds from his pocket and handed them to her, ignoring the men entirely.
“Here you go, love. I’ll get you a chair.”
And he was gone.
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The rest of the evening passed without trouble. When the mayor finally thanked everyone and dismissed the guests, the groups went their separate ways.
“Great work, everyone. Go home. We’ll discuss this tomorrow morning,” Mori announced.
Everyone groaned. A morning meeting. Wonderful.
“Let’s go. You need rest—especially if we have to sit through that tomorrow,” Chuuya whispered.
She nodded with a pained expression. “You drive.”
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The next morning, Y/N woke to the smell of coffee and breakfast.
“Good morning, sweetheart. I figured you’d want breakfast in bed, considering you might start hating the concept of sitting in a few hours,” Chuuya chuckled.
“Good morning. You might be right. Can you hand me my meds?”
“Here they are, love.”
“Thank you. So… last night. What was that reaction?” she asked, sipping her coffee.
“What do you mean? They insulted my girlfriend. I stood up for you.”
“Thanks, but you know you don’t have to. What if it compromised our connections?”
“I don’t care. And neither should you. Or your dad. You believe we can make connections like normal enterprises, but we’re the mafia. If the ‘good’ way doesn’t work, we use fear or pressure.”
“People are more likely to cooperate if you give them a choice. Or at least the illusion of one.”
“And that’s why you’re better at diplomacy than I am. There’s a reason you handle international relations and tech—not me,” he smirked. “Now get dressed. We can’t show up to HQ in pajamas.”
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“Good morning, everyone!” Mori greeted as the executives took their seats.
“First, let’s address the elephant in the room: Chuuya’s little outburst.”
Chuuya groaned. Did Mori really have to start with that? He already knew he messed up—no need to rub salt in the wound.
“I’ve received several emails from companies who were hesitant about accepting our protection,” Mori continued. “After witnessing that display of affection, they decided to go for it.”
Chuuya blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, dear Chuuya, that seeing how protective my executives are of each other convinced them you’d protect their businesses the same way. They’d heard of your commitment, but seeing it in person… well, not many get to witness it and live to tell the tale.”
Laughter filled the room.
“See? And you were worried you compromised our connections,” Y/N teased.
Kouyou laughed. “Oh, Chuuya, perhaps you should let the protective boyfriend out more often. It makes you look so cute and soft.”
“ANE-SAN!”
“Now, now. Stop teasing him. If we keep going, he’ll never do it again—and I think we all agree we want him to.”
“BOSS!”