The Yakuza's flower

Problems Never Stop

Hanayama's pov

The club was full tonight. Bass deep enough to rattle bone, laughter thick with liquor. Smoke curled up from the booths, cheap perfume and sweat riding the air like ghosts.

I was upstairs, door shut, half-listening to Kizaki rattle off reports.

Revenue was up. Trouble was low. For once, things were good .

Peace doesn't last too long

Eventually

I heard it.

A scream. Not the kind people pay to let out. This one was real. Raw.
It shook my attention.

I stood up quickly.

Kizaki froze mid-sentence. "That didn't sound like—"

Another scream. Closer. Violent.

I didn't wait. I was already heading for the door.

I made my way downstairs and the Chaos hit me before I saw it.

People pushing. Screaming. Running like rats on fire. Blood smeared across the floor. One man was already down—unmoving. Another clutched his stomach, dragging red behind him as he crawled.

Security was nowhere. Or dead. Hard to say.

Then I saw him.

In the middle of it all. Calm. Still. Like the storm belonged to him.

Barefoot. Dressed in cloth that didn't belong to this time. Holding a blade like it was a piece of his soul.

Musashi Miyamoto.

I knew the name. Everyone in our world did. But seeing him?

That was different.

He didn't move when the last bouncer tried to stop him. Just turned. Just one stroke.
Fast. Final.

Blood sprayed the air. The body hit the floor.

That's when he noticed me.

He turned with the ease of a man already expecting me.

And he smiled.

Like he'd been waiting.

"Hanayama Kaoru."

He said my name like it was a challenge. Like a promise.

That blade of his dipped slightly—just enough to acknowledge me.

"I've heard of you." He said

I didn't answer.

Didn't blink.

But inside, something cold settled in my gut.

This wasn't random.

This was war knocking on my front door.

And it was smiling.

I forgot.

In all the softness that crept into my life—the dinners, the quiet nights, the baby in her arms—I forgot I was still a marked man.

then Musashi walked into my club like a shadow with a heartbeat.

I didn't say a word. Neither did he.

He stood in the center of the room, watching me like I was already dead.

"I heard the Yakuza world had a giant," he said, his voice casual. "Didn't expect to find a man living like a civilian."

I stayed still.

Musashi took one step forward.

"Will you dodge?" he asked, smiling. "Or are you the kind who lets the blade bite?"