Songs [BANG CHAN ONE-SHOTS]

Freeze 🔞

A/N: Hella long Mafia AU story

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Three years. You spent three long and disgusting years overseas with just as disgusting people, their obnoxious laughing, unhealthy amount of drugs, and cheap prostitutes.

Luckily for you, they didn't force you to be part of their disgusting gathering nights filled with drugs, sex, and alcohol, as you made them know, ever since day 1, that you weren't and will never be that kind of a girl. And all you have to thank are your flexible body and the drunk-enough man who was so careless and intoxicated with alcohol that he didn't notice when you stole his gun. He only realized that you were in front of him when the cold metal pressed his tongue and the pipe was pushed deep into his throat.

"I'm here to work, not to fuck around," you spat, glaring up at the old bald guy who started sweating more by the second. Numerous guns and rifles clicked, pointed at your head, as the henchmen targeted you. You pushed the gun deeper into his mouth and he let out a muffled yelp, "If you want some easy whores, you can get them on the street, but don't you ever think of me like that... Ever again! Got it?"

The bald fat guy only nodded, his hands, which were in the air for some time, trembling. You pulled out the gun from his mouth, the pipe now covered in dripping saliva, and threw it on the floor, the loud sound of the metal hitting concrete making others lower their weapons.

The silence of the warehouse was broken with dramatic applause, a full second passing between each clap. You turned to the one who clapped, approaching you from the tall opened metal door. The older man wore a grin on his face, under a thick gray mustache and between his teeth holding an expensive Cuban cigar, over his eyes wearing aviation sunglasses with dark-gray lenses. His gray hair was slicked back and on his shoulders hung a long white winter coat, matching his all-white suit. Behind him walked two men, also dressed in all white, just like the fatty behind you. Other men around you were dressed in black suits, showing their lower rank, and all of them bowed to the older one.

"Nice work, little missy," the old man spoke up, his raspy voice showing decades of smoking, and a long cough that followed confirming it. 

A long-haired man behind him approached the grandpa, and offered a white napkin which the old man took and placed it over his mouth. You grimaced at the green-black slimy mixture that the grandpa spat into the napkin. Then he raised his hand, gesturing to the younger male that he was fine and dismissing him. Grandpa pushed the sunglasses up his big nose, smiling back at you as if nothing happened.

"As I said, you defended yourself well so, you'll earn your white suit," the man grinned wider, taking a smoke from his cigar.

The fat guy behind you started protesting, saying that it was hard to earn a white suit in the family (taking some pople years to get it), calling you a newbie and a nobody but earning a bullet in the head instead. Neither the gunshot or the male falling dead at your feet fazed you. You looked down at the body and then back at Hayakawa.

Old Hayakawa's frown relaxed and he smiled up at you again, "I had my eyes on you for quite some time, koneko-chan," he grinned his white prosthetic teeth at you and you frowned.

Japanese wasn't your native language but you studied it your whole life. At first, because of anime, then because you admired the country and its system, and finally because you wanted to get into one of their famous yakuza families. And you were currently at the doorstep, a small step away from completing your goal. But you couldn't hide the disgust at the old man's words. Out of everything, you despised when old wrinkly men called you "little kitty".