ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ||ʙᴏɴᴛᴇɴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇᴛᴇᴇɴ

[Y/n] had her target exactly where she wanted him, slumped against a damp brick wall in the shadowy confines of a grimy alleyway. The man was a mess, bruised, bloodied, and trembling. His breathing was ragged, each gasp sounding like it might be his last, and his eyes were wide with terror as he pleaded for mercy.

"P-please," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do anything. Just don't kill me."

"Anything?" [y/n] said, her tone dripping with mockery. She crouched down slightly, her gun still trained on him, her smirk widening. "I don't think you have anything I want."

"No, please!" he cried, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his face. "I'll give you money, information, anything you need! Just let me live!"

[Y/n] leaned closer, her grin sharp and predatory. "See, that's the thing. Mikey doesn't want anything from you except your death." She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with cold amusement. "And what I want is for you to stop breathing. Too bad for you, that's not negotiable."

The man whimpered, sliding down the wall in defeat, his legs giving out beneath him. [Y/n] straightened up, raising her gun to finish the job, when her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket. The sound was jarring in the quiet alley, and she groaned, stepping back as she pulled it out.

"Of all the fucking times," she muttered, glancing at the screen. The name read Unknown Number. Normally, [y/n] would've ignored it, she wasn't exactly in the mood for a chat, but something compelled her to answer. She pressed the answer button, raising the phone to her ear, her gun still pointed at the man.

"Hello?" she said, her voice sharp and impatient.

"Is this [L/n] [y/n]?" a calm, professional voice asked on the other end.

"Yes, who's asking?" she replied, her tone clipped. Her eyes never left her target, her finger still resting on the trigger.

"This is Dr. Nakamura from Shin-Yokohama General Hospital. I'm calling to inform you that your brother, [L/n] Kenji, has woken up from his coma."

The world seemed to come to a screeching halt. [Y/n]'s breath hitched, her grip on the phone tightening as the doctor's words echoed in her ears. For a moment, she forgot where she was, forgot the man trembling in front of her, forgot everything except the sound of the doctor's voice.

"He's awake?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. She didn't even realize she'd lowered her gun.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed, his tone steady. "He's stable and out of danger. You're welcome to come see him."

[Y/n] blinked rapidly, forcing herself to stay composed. Her mind was racing, a whirlwind of emotions she hadn't let herself feel in years. "I'll be there," she said quickly, her voice firm now. Without waiting for a response, she hung up the phone and shoved it back into her pocket.

Her target, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, seemed to sense an opportunity. He opened his mouth to speak, maybe to beg again, maybe to try and bargain, but [y/n] didn't give him the chance.

Bang

The gunshot echoed through the alley. The man slumped forward, lifeless, as [y/n] spun on her heel and sprinted toward her bike. Her heart was pounding, not from the adrenaline of the kill, but from the news she'd just received. Kenji was awake. After all this time, he was awake.

She jumped onto her bike, revving the engine with a roar that shattered the stillness of the night. As she sped off, her mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, but one thing was clear, she needed to get to the hospital. Now.