The Yakuza's flower

Crossed lines (+18)

Ume's pov

The next morning my body was aching like crazy.

Everything throbbed—my neck, my thighs, my hips. I felt sore in ways I hadn't in a long time.

I dragged myself to the shower, hoping the hot water would wash some of it away.

But when I stepped in front of the mirror, I froze.

Bruises bloomed along my collarbone, dark finger marks pressed into my hips, and faint hickeys were scattered across my chest and neck like a roadmap of my shame.

I wasn't surprised.
Just upset.

Upset with myself.

I turned away from the mirror before the tears could come. Got into the shower and scrubbed too hard—like I could erase him from my skin.

Like I could undo what I let happen.

After

I dressed in something simple, covering up as best as I could, I heard the soft babbling from the baby monitor.

Prince.

I rushed to his room, forcing a smile onto my face.

"Good morning, mi niño hermoso, (my beautiful boy) " I whispered as I picked him up. He smiled up at me, eyes squinting, arms reaching for my face.

His warmth always grounded me. His little fingers tangled in my hair as I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He didn't know anything about mistakes. About regrets. About complicated nights and tangled feelings.

He just knew I was his mama. And I was here.

I changed him, fed him, and held him a little longer than usual.

Eventually, I got us both ready for a little field trip to the mall with Kozue.

I dressed Prince in his soft beige onesie with the little bear ears on the hood. He giggled when I zipped it up, like it was the funniest thing in the world. His laugh was so cute .

Anyway

Mine was a simple outfit- leggings, an oversized shirt, Something comfortable. Something that didn't scream walk of shame.

Kozue was already waiting outside when I opened the door. She smiled gently when she saw me, but her eyes flickered—like she was trying to read me.

"You look tired," she said softly, reaching over to tickle Prince's belly.

I gave a weak laugh. "Busy night."

She didn't press, but she didn't have to. I could feel the question in the air, unspoken and heavy.

The mall was loud, busy with families and teens cutting through the early afternoon rush. We walked slowly, window-shopping, letting Prince stare at lights and point at shiny displays.

Kozue kept glancing at me, like she wanted to say something. I kept pretending not to notice.

Until finally, as we sat down at the food court with iced coffees and a bottle for Prince,

she spoke first

"What's wrong? You've been lost in your thoughts all day."

I looked down at my drink. Swirled the straw.

"I made a mistake," I said quietly.

Kozue leaned in, elbows on the table. "What kind of mistake?"

I didn't answer right away. I didn't even look at her.