Chapter three: a story of the past 

How long ago did they meet?

Natsumi stretched her limbs out in the car, she kicked her high heels off and practically laid down on the backseat. Kai was currently driving her back home. As promised, she had treated her boys for drinks. When things got heated and they mentioned soap houses Natsumi called it a day, she did a lot with her group but that was something out of her league. She wasn't into women; there was nothing for her there.

Her hands folding behind her head she thought about her first meeting with Kai, who would have ever thought the brat would turn out to be her most loyal and dearest friend.

∭∭∭∭Flashback∭∭∭∭

Eleven-year-old Natsumi was sitting at the nearby convenience store, after a fight with Hiro she didn't feel like returning to the mansion. The wind was howling, colorful leaves falling on the ground painting the street around her. A few steps further there was a group, a biker gang causing a ruckus, she wasn’t intimidated at all. Being around Hiro and his men she was used to seeing this type of characters, her “uncles” were even scarier. While she was gazing at them wondering what the appeal was in a bike, they didn’t even glance her way. Most people assumed she couldn’t speak Japanese despite her wearing a middle school uniform, they expected her to speak English.

English, how she despised it. They all thought it was natural for her to speak the language considering her looks. As if every Caucasian person on earth was an English speaker. Her little fight, or selfish outburst with Hiro, was yet again because of the language, even her couldn’t stop. Every day he nagged her about her English lessons, he kept hammering on and on about how she should speak English, with her blue eyes and blonde hair everyone expected at least that much. She hated it. Why was everyone obsessed with how foreign she looks? Natsumi didn't believe she was anything but Japanese. Having been raised by her father Hiro, her grandfather and all the group members for over a decade now she felt anything but a foreigner. To her, Natsumi Watanabe was Japanese through and through, no matter what her complexion might tell.

She looked at her phone display, already 6 pm. The house would probably already be in a ruckus seeing she was an hour late. Her phone had several missed calls and messages, but the girl was stubborn and wanted Hiro to worry about her. Lately, he was more preoccupied with the group than her, she was lonely. The group members always tried to cheer her up, it wasn't the same thing. After finishing her drink, she decided it was enough, they waited long enough. The house was a 10-minute walk away, she took the main road making sure to stay away from the alleys. It was her first year in middle school and Hiro had finally agreed not to send any of his goons to accompany her to school, during grade school two would always follow her and she ended up with no friends.

It was six thirty when she arrived at her street, a few of her father's men were standing at the door as guards. Three others were looking around, searching for something or someone. Probably her.

Natsumi smiled brightly seeing her favorite member was there as well, a little bit too excited to see Taeyang was back she run towards him yelling, "Tae-ni!" The twenty-year-old man whipped his head towards the voice. He smiled, his eyes almost disappearing when he did, ready to catch her when she would jump like she usually did.

However, Natsumi stopped running.

A young teenager had blocked her way, making it impossible for her to move. He was trembling holding a kitchen knife while looking at the foreign girl. Her foot shuffled against the ground trying to take a step back, stopping when the boy screamed, "Don't move," his Japanese sounded weird, perhaps because of the accent. Natsumi stared at the knife then at him, "you can't do that here, I'm Watanabe Hiro's daughter, my house is just over there." Anyone who had a brain in Tokyo knew exactly who Watanabe Hiro was, even high schoolers would know that. His eyes narrowed staring at her, "I know exactly who you are.” He was clearly not used to holding a knife in his hands. Grasping at it with all his might, she noticed he was slightly trembling, his voice was no louder than a whisper apologizing before walking closer to her, “I'm sorry, this is the only way." Natsumi wasn’t scared of knives, she had seen the group’s member walk with them around her, guns were a normal part of her life as well. However, there had never been a knife pointed at her, they were there to protect her and the rest of the family but never to harm her.

Even if she wasn’t scared of the instrument, it would be a lie to say Natsumi wasn’t scared seeing someone wielding it against her. Taeyang was the first to notice her fear-stricken face and run over to her but seeing the young man wielding a knife he stopped, yelling to get Hiro here immediately. Two of her father’s goons yelled for him not to move but the man ignored him, they couldn’t do a thing seeing how close he was to the lady of the house. It was too dangerous to attempt anything now, he might be fast enough to get to her before any of them could get to them. The young Hiro run towards the street after being called out, like all the man around him he was wearing a black suit, she had never seen Hiro sport that kind of expression before. Her own limbs were trembling as the man got closer.

It all happened so fast, the steps behind him were coming closer, feeling threatened the teenager grabbed the young girl placing the knife on her neck while holding her body tightly with his second arm. “Back off, all of you,” his legs were shaking so was his yelling voice, Hiro held his hand up and stared at his daughter and the assailant, “one step and I’ll cut ,” he threatened again. No one moved.

He couldn’t recklessly attack, it was impossible for him to take out the young man and save his daughter at the same time. Taeyang was pointing his gun on the teenager, so were a few other men, five guns had their barrels pointed at him.

Hiro stared at his daughter, he could see the iron blade pressed against cutting through her skin, making her blood trickle down her neck. It wasn’t deep but it startled the young girl. Her breathing increased, she looked at her father then at the man holding into her, “Oni-san, my dad is here so talk to him and let me go.” Her fingers clasped around his wrist trying to keep him from pressing harder on her, hissing from the cut on her neck she glanced upwards, his chocolate brown eyes locked with her baby blue ones. “I have to save them,” he simply replied, Hiro caught that and smiled.

“Son, who send you? Tell me which group it is and I’ll save whoever you are trying to save. You have my word, just let my daughter go.” Kai moved his arm, pointing the knife in front of him while keeping the girl pressed against his body, “don’t ing move. They said if I take care of her, I will get my parents back. You can’t help me so don’t come here, she needs to die!”

Hiro motioned for his guys to get closer, his eyes narrowing, the previous warm tone turned into a dangerous one, “Natsumi is my only daughter, if she dies, I’ll make you suffer a pain worse than a thousand deaths. Give me the name of the group and we will get your parents out of there. You don’t have a chance to get away from us, give Natsumi back!” The cold voice made the young man sweat, his blonde hair was tussled into a mess, his fingers grasping desperately at the knife, he didn’t know what he was doing. Five of the yakuza men were coming closer, he was trapped. He should have gotten her earlier when no one was around but the girl had arrived too late. His parents were more important than him and thus he was willing to take the risk of losing his life if it could save theirs.

“Stop, don’t come closer,” he desperately tried, Hiro ignored his words looking at Natsumi, he could see the fear in the eyes of his daughter which made him furious. Which group dared to use his daughter to seek revenge on him?

“Oni-san…,” Natsumi’s voice was shaking, of course she was scared, her father was here, she should feel reassured, but this man was desperate. She had seen first-hand what desperate people were capable of. “Can’t you just let me go?” her hands were shaking, a few tears rolling down her cheek, her lips trembling calling out for Hiro, “Papa...”

“Mi-chan, just look at me, don’t look at him,” he spoke softly trying to reassure her while racking his brain, trying to find a solution without losing his daughter in the process. Taeyang glanced at his boss, his head nodding once, Hiro trusted the man and he nodded back, whatever it was he would follow.