ENGLISH VERSION - Second Star to the Right (Mikey Bonten)

Chapter 9: My brothers

POV MIKEY

I step into the private lounge, reserved for Bonten's executives. Sanzu is sitting in a leather armchair, meticulously polishing his favorite katana, a grin on his face.

Seeing him so calm, so relaxed, while my mind's a whirlwind of rage, makes my blood boil. A flash of hatred hits me, and before I know it, I'm on him. My hand seizes his collar, lifting him halfway out of his seat.

"Don't. Ever. Touch. Her. Again." My voice is ice-cold, each word deliberate.

Sanzu doesn't move, his expression unchanged, but I feel the tension in his muscles. He stares at me with those cold, loyal, but calculating eyes. I know he understands the situation better than anyone, but I won't tolerate any questioning. Yet, his silence gets under my skin, part of me dreading the twisted thoughts that must be running through his mind.

He slowly nods in agreement.

"I did what you asked. Didn't know she was getting special treatment." His tone is respectful, but there's a hint of sarcasm in his words.
"She's just leverage to get what we want, right?"

My fist clenches, still gripping his collar. The darkness inside me wants to snap his neck for his insolence, but I know he's right. Ayana is more than just a pawn to me; she's a weakness, an echo of the past that threatens to drag me back to what I despise most—my lost humanity.

"I don't give a damn what she is or isn't. I didn't ask you to understand, Sanzu." I let go of him abruptly, shoving him back into the chair.
"Our priority is Atsushi. Make sure you bring him back here alive."

Sanzu adjusts his collar, unfazed, his eyes fixed on me.
"Already on it, Mikey."

I don't respond. I just turn on my heel and leave the room. A dull rage still simmers inside me. I storm down the stairs of the HQ, passing men who drop their eyes as I go, too scared to hold my gaze.

I head toward the parking lot, where my Honda CB250T awaits, a direct link to the little of my past I can tolerate. My brother gave me this bike before he died—a gift that, back then, symbolized freedom. Now, it's the last remnant of a bygone era, a painful reminder of everything I've lost.

The engine hums as I leave HQ, my thoughts drifting with the scenery flashing by. I ride with no clear destination, just trying to escape the chaos in my head. But I know where my ride will end.

The cemetery. Where my brothers rest.

I stop in front of the entrance, the damp gravel crunching under my feet. I walk past each of their graves—Shinichiro, Izana, Ema. I stay silent, crushed by the weight of guilt. They're gone because of me, because I wasn't strong enough to protect them from my own hell.

Their laughter still echoes in my memory, a reminder of the happy days I'll never see again. I feel like they hate me from wherever they are, their voices haunting me, blaming me for not being enough. Every step I take here reminds me of how I've failed, and the emptiness they left is a crushing weight on my heart.

Finally, I move to the grave of my brother at heart. I crouch down, my fingers tracing the letters of his name: Keisuke Baji. The wind blows softly, and it's almost like I can feel his presence. I close my eyes, hoping for just a second that he's here beside me.

"Your sister's back, Baji," I murmur.

"I know I should let her go... but I can't. Not this time."

A wave of memories crashes over me, suddenly pulling me back fifteen years.

The day I first met her. I was leaving Gramps' dojo. As usual, I was bored out of my mind.

Then, I heard her.