The Yakuza's flower

Taken

Kozue's POV

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, chasing after the car that had taken Ume. My breath burned in my throat, my chest heaving as I pushed myself forward.

"Ume!" I screamed, but the car sped off, disappearing into the distance.

I skidded to a stop, chest rising and falling in sharp, panicked breaths. My legs gave out and I collapsed to my knees on the pavement. The sound of the busy street roared around me, but it all felt distant. Muted.

I pressed my palms against the ground, trying to stop the shaking. Tears stung my eyes as I looked up, hoping—praying—that someone might help. That someone might say they saw something.

But no one did.

People looked at me, then looked away. Like none of this was their problem. Like she didn't matter.

A sob ripped from my throat, raw and helpless.

Then—through the fog—I remembered something.

The dojo. Baki!

It wasn't far. If he was there, he could help. He had to.

I forced my trembling legs to move, pushing myself up. Don't think. Just go. Just move.

I ran toward the dojo, fumbling with my phone as I called Baki. It rang. And rang. No answer.

Please, Baki... please...

Just as I was about to burst through the entrance Retsu and Doppo Orochi were stepping out.

"Kozue?" Retsu's sharp eyes locked on me as I stumbled forward, he caught me and helped me find my balance.

I doubled over, gasping, my lungs screaming—but I didn't care. The words clawed their way out.

"U-Ume..." I choked. "Ume! UME IS IN TROUBLE!"

"What?" Retsu stepped closer, voice firm. "Catch your breath. What happened?"

Before I could answer, Baki came into view. He was stepping out of the dojo, brows furrowing the second he saw me.

"Kozue?" He rushed over, eyes scanning me. "What's wrong? What happened to you?" His gaze flicked to the scrapes on my arms and legs.

I grabbed his shirt, my fingers digging into the fabric. "Ume! Please, Baki! They took her!" My voice cracked. "Someone kidnapped Ume!"

Baki's entire demeanor changed in an instant—his muscles tensed, jaw clenched.

"Who took her? What happened?"

"I don't know," I cried, shaking my head. "I don't know! She was scared—I've never seen her like that—he forced her into a car and—"

"Does Hanayama know?" Retsu asked.

A chill ran down my spine before I could answer.

"Know what?"

That voice—deep and cold—cut through everything.

I turned slowly.

Hanayama was standing there, his towering presence making the air feel heavier. His gaze locked on mine, unreadable and terrifying all at once.

I swallowed hard. "Someone... took Ume..." I whispered. "I don't know who he was, but she was terrified. Her hands were shaking. She couldn't even speak. He—he forced her into a car and they—"

"Where?" Hanayama cut in, voice sharp as a blade.

"I—I don't know—"

"Let's go."

He didn't yell. He didn't break.

But the way he moved—calm, focused, deadly—made everyone step aside.

I don't know how, but within minutes, he was on the phone with Kizaki. I barely understood the conversation, but it didn't matter. Kizaki made calls, checked footage, tracked down traffic cams. He had people everywhere.

He found the car. Found her.

The location?

A hotel.

Not flashy, but upscale. Hidden in the hills. Quiet..

We moved fast.

We had no choice.

⸻

Ume's POV

I couldn't move.

Even as he dragged me from the car, even as his fingers dug into the back of my neck, I stayed frozen. My legs refused to work, my breath felt trapped in my chest.

I was trembling.

Every word he spoke sent another icy wave through me. His voice, smooth and controlled, was so familiar yet so distant.

He led me through the grand entrance of an expensive hotel, his grip unrelenting. The staff said nothing. No one stopped him. As if they couldn't see me.

Or maybe... they just knew better.

I wanted to fight back. I wanted to say something. Scream. Run.

But my body betrayed me.... I was my own worst enemy...

I could only move when he moved me.

As we stepped into the elevator, I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls. I barely recognized myself. My face was pale, my lips slightly parted as I struggled to keep my breathing steady. My body was tense, shoulders stiff—like a trapped animal trying not to make any sudden movements.

Mateo's eyes met mine in the reflection.

He smiled.

That slow, knowing smirk that used to make my skin crawl. That still made my skin crawl.

"Still so beautiful," he murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "It's like you were made just for me, florecita."

My stomach twisted.

And as his hand moved again—reaching for my chin—I turned my head ever so slightly.

Just enough for him to miss.

His fingers hovered for a second before retreating.

I didn't say anything.

But I saw it in his eyes.

He noticed.

A flicker of something—amusement? Irritation?

But he didn't push.

The elevator kept climbing.

I kept breathing.

Barely.

I watched as the elevator took us to the 5th floor..

* Ding

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