𝙘𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 (𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪)

chapter twenty-four.

1975, present

song for this chapter: vito and abbandando - nino rota

while suna was mindlessly thinking about how he would get his revenge on don tooru, y/n had some different plans. and that involved forcefully succumbing to the boss of seijoh. 

nude bodies sticky with sweat and that shine that only can be visible after a longer session, nails trailed down his back. tooru panted, and so did y/n. their faces were flushed red, and they were both lying down onto their backs. his face was adorned with a small smirk as he glanced over at her figure. 

there's a 2 part clarification for why she did this. it wasn't because she fell under his charm, it was because she wanted to make him feel like she did.

"better than suna?" he asked her, his thumb stroking the back of her shoulder. y/n nodded.

"better than suna." that was a complete lie. nobody could fuck her like suna did, after all. tooru smirked at her lie, and he sat up from where he was laying down.

"sweet little thing, couldn't get pleasured by the right don, so she had to hop on to another?"

y/n dryly laughed at this, watching his naked figure (only waist wrapped in a blanket) make his way to the bathroom. she felt somewhat guilty for being in the bed of another don, naked, and entirely fucked out. you have to do what you have to do, unfortunately. 

luckily enough for the h/c girl, the door was somewhat cracked so she could get a patial view of what tooru was doing. he seemed to be fixing up his hair, humming a soft tune that was barely audible to her. smiling softly, she turned over, so her stomach was laying across the soft sheets on the mattress. 

sneaking her hand past the numerous array of pillows, she felt for a cold object that make a small 'L' shape. taking in a view of whom she was attempting to do her plan on, her hand gripped the shiny, silver gun. 

it was cold on her skin, but not uncomfortable. it was foreign to have a different gun in her hand, pushing off from the mattress, she sat up and made her way over to the bathroom, draping a blanket around her body along the way. 

tooru didn't see her, she was quiet. the creaking that she made on the wooden floor was invisible to his hearing as he continued touching up his hair, spritzing cologne onto his collarbone. soft humming came from his throat, and she pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of his neck. he flinched at the cold material coming in contact with his skin, and instinctively glancing at the mirror.

and the trigger clicked.

his towel fell to the floor, eyes wide and body bloody. shards of glass from the mirror scattered across the entire room, and y/n stared down at the mess in front of her. she didn't say anything, she just had a neutral expression. 

setting the gun next to his body, she grabbed her dress from that evening and threw it on herself, not caring about that rather uncomfortable shoes that were on her feet. she wiped off some of the blood from her arms and face with his dress shirt in the closet, and quickly made her way out of the room.

it felt as if her heart was beating out of her chest. a sudden wave of nostalgia crept over her body, things she was feeling from years ago or so. she hadn't killed anyone in a while, let alone a don.

she does remember one, but it was definitely chilling. aftermath of killing? nobody likes that, do they?

she stepped out of the building, glancing over at the car who was right in front of where she was. 

a man in a suit and a woman with a red dress. she made her way over to the car, opening the door.

"how is he?"

"he's doing fine, we have a message for you once we get back to the place."

she sighed in reassurance. 

"thank you shinsuke, marie." the 2 smiled.