In the blink of an eye, the clock struck seven.
Takashi stood up from his chair calmly, picked up his jacket from the chair, and walked with steady steps toward the hallway leading to the dressing room.
The sound of officers talking and laughing echoed through the corridor from behind the dressing room doors.
Takashi opened the door and greeted his colleagues politely.
“Good evening.”
“Good evening” they greeted back, and everyone returned to their activities.
Takashi approached his locker and opened it with one hand.
“Always the last one to arrive, Mr. Takashi.”
Kenta’s voice behind him made him flinch slightly.
“And you always have time for teasing, Kenta." Takashi replied, pulling his bulletproof vest from the locker with a faint, amused smile.
“And what would you do without me, Mr. Takashi?”
Kenta continued, leaning closer.
“You’d probably die of seriousness eventually.”
He leaned in near Takashi’s ear, almost brushing against it as he laughed.
Takashi gently brushed Kenta’s face away from his shoulder with his palm, smiling faintly.
“Hurry up. It’s almost time to move. We need to get ready”
he said, zipping up his vest.
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“You look tense” Kenta said.
“Worried about tonight?”
He was kneeling on the floor, fastening his boot, glancing toward Takashi’s back.
Takashi paused for a moment.
He closed his locker door, and a quiet sigh of worry escaped him.
“I don’t know… It’s just a bad feeling.”
He turned around to face Kenta, who was still zipping up his other boot on the floor.
“Don’t think too much about it”
Kenta said, jumping up and grabbing Takashi’s shoulder.
“Come on. We need to go.”
Night slowly fell over Shirogawa.
A light breeze carried the scent of the sea through the neighborhood.
The sound of waves filled the air, mixing with the voices of people and children playing in the streets.
Angry mothers called their children inside, their voices echoing between the houses.
The night is dangerous in Shirogawa.
No one speaks about it out loud, but everyone knows.
Don’t look for trouble, and it won’t find you.
A row of luxurious cars was parked along the road, silently announcing trouble.
Loud voices and laughter spilled from a beautiful, modern Japanese-style house.
Inside the house, gang members sat gathered around the low tables on the tatami floor, chatting casually.
The room was filled with cigarette smoke. Bottles and glasses of strong liquor covered the tables, while maids moved quietly between the guests, serving dinner.
Everything was watched by the sharp eyes of the host, seated at the head of the room.
Older members surrounded him, while the younger ones were placed at the bottom.
A clear hierarchy.
He lifted his hand and gestured with two fingers for one of the men standing behind him to come closer.
The man approached and leaned toward his ear.
“Is everything ready?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, boss. Everything as you ordered.”
He raised his fingers again, signaling the man to step aside.
Casually, he glanced at his wristwatch as if he were waiting for someone.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve gathered like this” he said, looking proudly across the room.
“I’m very pleased to see some familiar faces” he added, glancing toward the older members seated beside him.
“And a warm welcome to the younger members of our organization” he continued.
“Please, enjoy your dinner.”
He rested his elbows on the table, his hands forming a pyramid.
Once again, he glanced at his wristwatch as if waiting for something to happen.
He looked unusually relaxed and calm as he observed the people around him.
Laughter and loud conversations filled the room.
The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke didn’t seem to bother anyone.
They were enjoying themselves.
The clock on the wall showed half past eight.
The loud sound of forcefully opened doors followed with loud shouting
“Police!! Everybody stay where you are with your hands up” turned the joyful atmosphere into silence.
