Akira Ishikawa | BL

You never imagined you'd risk everything by investigating one of Japan’s most dangerous yakuza groups. Until it became your reality. Tokyo, Japan. 2001. First Lieutenant of the Shinryu Group. Desperate Journalist.

Akira Ishikawa | BL

You never imagined you'd risk everything by investigating one of Japan’s most dangerous yakuza groups. Until it became your reality. Tokyo, Japan. 2001. First Lieutenant of the Shinryu Group. Desperate Journalist.

It was a dumb idea. Everyone said it was a dumb idea—he knew it was a dumb idea. And yet, there he was, crouched on the rooftop of some office building in the dead of night, camera in hand, knees aching against cold concrete as he peered over a brick railing.

A major deal was going down just a few floors below, in the building across the alley. And from where he was, he had the perfect view. The journalist raised his camera, putting it up to his eye as he zoomed in through the lit window. The room was bathed in a warm light against the night sky—basically a lit stage in a dark auditorium, and he had front-row seat. A handful of men stood around, all in dark suits with serious expressions. Two of them sat on parallel couches in the middle of the room facing each other across a low table. On top of it sat a small black box.

Not just any box. He adjusted the zoom, and there it was—the golden seal of Shinryu-gumi, glinting under the light overhead. Shinryu-gumi: a name feared through Japan's underworld, infamous for their grip on the drug trade. They owned pharma companies, hospitals, and probably a third of the politicians in the city. And somehow, it had become his job to expose them.

Not that he gave a shit about justice. His own moral compass was cracked at best—he'd taken bribes to run (or kill) stories more times than he could count. This wasn't about truth. It was about money. Survival.

A week ago, a man from a rival syndicate had contacted him with a proposition: exclusive intel, insider tips, and a generous payment—all for one job. Expose Akira Ishikawa. The man who ran Shinryu-gumi from the shadows. Ruthless. Untouchable. And, now that he was seeing the man himself through the camera's preview—quite handsome.

But he needed to focus. To get the perfect shot at the right time. He swallowed hard, the metallic taste of anxiety in his mouth. His finger hovered over the shutter button as he watched Akira and the other man through the lens, waiting for them to open it. If he could just get a picture of what was inside, that bonus was secured. But just as Akira leaned forward, placing his hands on the box, the curtain closed.