“Take this with you.” Ryouma pced a smartphone in Midoriko’s hands as they stood in the entryway of the house in Gunma.

  For their pn, she was to go to work like normal and follow whoever Shishiba sends after her when she finished her shift. After that, she had two days off work. She was concerned about making it back for her next shift, but Ryouma had confidence everything would be resolved within a matter of hours.

  “Your phone? But why?” She tried to hand it back to him, but he just shook his head.

  “I have a backup,” he expined, holding up a flip phone. “The contact details for this one are in my phone. If you’re able to, send a message when you arrive at the location they take you.”

  He knocked on the front door, then reached for the handle. Midoriko pced her hand over his to stop him from opening it.

  “What if they’re watching me and I’m not able to send a message?”

  “Then you do that little trick again where you use the phone as a medium for magic.” He opened the door to an alley in Osaka.

  “W-what if that doesn’t work again?!”

  “I’m confident that it will,” Ryouma said, with a smile. He gently nudged her through the door. “And if it doesn’t, I can track the location of the phone.”

  “B-but–!”

  “Take good care of it! My collection is on there!”

  She shot him a confused look. Before she could protest any further, Ryouma slid the door closed. He pressed his forehead to the door, clenching the flip phone in his hand.

  “Are you sure about this, Master Ryouma?” Xiǎomíng asked, appearing from around the corner.

  “Yes. I can’t think of any other way to do this,” he replied, straightening up.

  It was admittedly an insane pn by his standards, but they’d lost contact with Itoko at some point overnight. They didn’t know if she was even at the hotel they’d been told about anymore. They would have to gamble on the chance of Midoriko bringing both sides together.

  “Hopefully they don’t break my phone,” he pouted. Ryouma flicked the flip phone open with his thumb and looked at the candid photo of her reading set as the background.

  “Right… It’s essential to the pn. We should have thought of a backup in case that happens,” mented Xiǎomíng.

  “That’s true…” Ryouma mumbled in agreement, snapping the phone shut. “Yes, that would be the real problem, wouldn’t it?”

  Xiǎomíng shot him a knowing look, then sighed.

  “A-anyway…” Ryouma cpped his hand on the boy’s shoulder, regaining his composure. “You and I have to go undercover now.”

  They were going to scope out the hotel, just to be sure.

  ***

  The alley Midoriko ended up in was the one near her old apartment in Suita. She was surprised that Ryouma committed this particur pce to memory, but it worked out for her since that area was a closer commute to her job and nowhere near the other pce in Osaka. The chances of her being followed or yanked into an unmarked van were slim.

  She looked at the phone in her hands. Just holding it made her fingers tingle. There was something about it that was dragging out an ugly side of herself to the surface—the urge to snoop.

  Well… He did give it to her knowing she’d have to use it, so there probably wasn’t anything worth looking at anyway.

  …But what did he mean by collection?

  Midoriko looked around. She was on a public street, so the st thing she wanted was to open up something obscene on a man’s phone. Swallowing hard, she activated the lock screen only to find a picture of herself.

  “...Huh?”

  In the picture, she was tucking her hair behind her ear while chewing on one end of a pen—a habit of deep concentration she’d developed over the years. Just a picture of her caught in an inconsequential moment that she didn’t even remember, treasured enough by Ryouma to dispy prominently.

  Midoriko entered her birthday in for the pin, and the phone unlocked.

  “Pfft… What the hell?” She ughed to herself.

  Thinking of the nightmare she’d had that morning, Midoriko sighed. It really was stupid of her to even imagine Enishi Ryouma leaving her like that. He constantly made his hopeless devotion clear in not only his words, but in little actions like this phone.

  Midoriko stopped walking, and her smile faded. Not knowing how soon she’d see him again made her miss him already. I’m really hopeless too…

  She opened up the camera roll, hoping to find the selfie they took together at the aquarium. The one where she wasn’t ready, but he insisted she looked cute. Instead, Midoriko was met with picture after picture of herself.

  “...”

  He was like a damn paparazzi! Pictures of her pying with Itoko. Learning tai chi from Xiǎomíng. Gardening. Doing undry. Reading. Eating. Sleeping.

  Her eye twitched. When did he even take all of these?!

  Suddenly, her longing for Ryouma was cured. Midoriko continued on her way to work with a clear head, deleting the worst offenders from the phone.

  ***

  “Get up. We’re switching.” Akira was nudged awake by Goto.

  “Hm? What for?” he mumbled, rubbing his aching neck.

  Akira checked the time—nine in the morning. When did he fall asleep? It must have been some time after midnight.

  “They want you to go back to Osaka,” Goto said, handing Akira two JR passes.

  “Hah?!” He jumped up and snatched the passes away from Goto. “Why are there two of ‘em? Who’s comin’ with me?”

  “No one,” Goto said, quickly stealing the seat. He crossed one leg over the other and began picking at the spot where the needle was embedded in his skin. “Come back with Shishiba’s daughter. You’re close to her, right?”

  Akira groaned, remembering how hard he’d been spped the day before. He wasn’t stupid—he knew that he was probably one of the st people Suwa Midoriko wanted to see right now.

  “What about the brat? Who’s gonna watch her while I’m gone?” he asked, nodding to the door.

  “Why? Grown attached?” Goto was mocking him.

  “Like hell I have!”

  The other man shrugged. “Then don’t worry about the brat.”

  It wasn’t the girl he was worried about—it was everyone else. How many of them were aware of her dangerous power?

  “Tch. Fine…” Akira swallowed that anxiety. These were Shishiba-gumi guys, so there was no need to care about them.

  “If you’re still worried about the brat, then make it quick and hurry back!” Goto called out as Akira walked down the long service hallway.

  “I’m not! Shuddup!” he snapped back before opening the door to the now quiet casino floor.

  Akira was getting sick of this bullshit. The constant errands, the constant back-and-forth. He muttered to himself as he walked past empty tables under dim lighting.

  “I have half a mind to ask for a raise… Or a reward…” he said, lighting up a cigarette.

  “What did you have in mind?” a familiar voice asked from across the room.

  Akira nearly jumped out of his skin. Shishiba Tsuneo sat at an empty table pying solitaire.

  “G-good morning, sir!” Akira bowed profusely from the waist. “I wasn’t being serious! I–”

  “Have a seat,” Shishiba said, scraping up the cards from the table. Akira sat opposite him and watched as Shishiba reshuffled the deck. He pced the deck between the two of them and gestured to it. “Cut it, please.”

  Akira cut the deck and pced both halves next to each other. Shishiba unified them once more with a ripple shuffle.

  “Thank you for your hard work. I also happen to think you deserve a reward, Mr. Kuroiwa.”

  “Oh! Heh, it’s really nothin’...” Akira mumbled. It was important to stay humble around someone of higher rank.

  “You’re a neutralizer, right?”

  “That’s right, sir.”

  “And you like my daughter, right?”

  “Th-that’s…” Akira swallowed hard. What is the right answer here?

  “Tell you what,” Shishiba said, pulling a card from the top of the deck and pcing it face-up in front of Akira. He pced another face-up in front of himself. “If you beat me in bckjack, then I’ll allow you to marry my daughter.”

  “C-come again?”

  “But only if you beat me in one round,” he continued, ignoring Akira’s confusion. “You see, gambling is my only vice, so I know how to beat the house. But the question is… Do you?”

  “But why me, sir?”

  “The current Kuroiwa head is your great uncle, right? You’re young and yet you have few prospects to move up in the organization because of your position in the family. Aren’t you tired of that?” Shishiba asked, dealing out the second cards.

  Akira nodded slowly. That was certainly tempting to him, but there had to be more to it. Shishiba Tsuneo was pragmatic, after all.

  When the Shishiba-Gumi allied itself with the Kuroiwa family, it was because they dealt in information over anything else. They ran multiple legitimate businesses around Osaka that were friendly to Yakuza, allowing them to dip their fingers into every proverbial jar when dealing with other gangs.

  “It stands to reason that two neutralizers will make another, no?” Shishiba added with a smile.

  There it was. His group would gain two neutralizers with the possibility of more. It was the potential to make the Shishiba-gumi incredibly strong that he was after.

  Akira looked down at the cards in front of him. A king of hearts and a two of clubs—twelve. Shishiba’s face-up card was an ace of spades, which bothered the hell out of Akira. Staying and hitting both ran the risk of causing Akira to lose. The question was, did he want to lose?

  Akira thought of that kiss he saw. Oh, how he wished it were himself devouring her. Would she hate him even more if he won a bet with her as the prize? Probably. But, even that feisty side of Midoriko was alluring.

  Akira bit down on his cigarette filter as he contempted his next move. He gnced up at Shishiba sitting calmly, his fingers steepled, watching Akira with a slight smile.

  Maybe he was being tested?

  Akira’s eyes drifted over to the deck of cards. Shishiba had handed it to Akira to cut, but he’d resumed shuffling right after. He could very well have done something to it with magic.

  While Akira would be able to see through any kind of enchantment that changed the face of the card to appear as something different, it was a different story if Shishiba was using magic to stack the deck in his favor.

  “Can I interpret your silence to mean that you’re staying you hand?”

  “Not at all!” Akira said with a confident smile. He tapped the deck of cards. “Hit.”

  Shishiba nodded, then pced down a card for Akira.

  A six of hearts.

  He was sitting at eighteen now. Shishiba turned over his other card.

  A four of diamonds. That put him at fifteen. There was still a chance for him to beat Akira if he pulled the right card.

  Akira held his breath as Shishiba reached for another card. It wasn’t going to take much for Shishiba to win this hand, but he was sitting in a position where it could easily go bust.

  With a flick of his wrist, Shishiba id out an eight of clubs. Twenty-three.