Chapter Text
In the quiet of the living room, Sagawa sat on a soft, cushioned chair, his posture slightly tense but compliant as Shimano’s maids carefully dressed him. They worked with practiced hands, layering the intricate pieces of an old-fashioned Lolita outfit in delicate pastel shades. The dress was a soft pastel pink, accented with deep reds and whites, the contrasting colors creating a bold yet charmingly vintage effect. Lace trims adorned the edges of the puffed sleeves and the hem of the skirt, while a fitted bodice in white featured delicate red bows, placed just so to enhance the design.
Shimano stood a few steps away, arms crossed, observing the maids with a discerning eye as they tied the ribbons, adjusted the collar, and smoothed out the layers of fabric. “That collar,” he instructed sharply, gesturing with a nod, “needs to sit just right. Can’t have it sagging and throwin’ the whole look off.”
The maids nodded quickly, ensuring the white lace collar rested perfectly against Sagawa’s neck. The bodice was tightened slightly to emphasize the shape, and the skirt flared outward with layers of soft pink and white ruffles, the subtle sheen of the fabric catching the light. Delicate red ribbons adorned the cuffs of the sleeves, which sat snugly at Sagawa’s wrists, framed by more lace that added an air of refinement.
“Don’t forget the cuffs,” Shimano added, his tone exacting. “Needs to look polished, not sloppy.”
The maids adjusted the cuffs and tied the final bow at the small of Sagawa’s back, the deep red ribbon cascading down in neat lines against the pastel pink of the skirt. Sagawa remained still, his gaze lowered, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks as the maids continued their work. Occasionally, they cast quick glances at Shimano to gauge his satisfaction.
Shimano’s sharp gaze softened slightly, and an approving smirk crossed his face as he took in the transformation. “Now that’s more like it,” he murmured, nodding in satisfaction. “Tidy it up, and let’s see the full effect.”
The maids moved to the final touches, one of them carefully bringing over a blonde curly wig, its soft, golden ringlets bouncing lightly as it was set onto Sagawa’s head. The wig was cropped just above shoulder length, its ends curling upward in perfect, delicate spirals. The maids adjusted it meticulously, ensuring it sat neatly, framing Sagawa’s face in a way that softened his sharp features. They brushed and teased it slightly, giving it a polished finish before stepping back to assess their work.
Next, they slipped long white socks onto his legs, the smooth fabric reaching just below his knees, hiding the marks and scars that usually marred his skin. Finally, they brought out deep red platform dress shoes with ankle straps. The shoes gleamed under the warm light of the living room, their bold color complementing the accents of the dress. The ankle straps were fastened securely, adding a small charm to the look as the maids straightened the hem of the skirt to ensure everything was perfectly in place.
As the maids stepped back, Sagawa sat there in the chair, his head slightly tilted downward, his posture still but his expression unreadable. The outfit was intricate and cleverly designed, every detail working to cover his scars and insecurities. The wig covering the bullet wound just right. The long sleeves, lace cuffs, and high collar concealed the bruises on his arms and neck, while the ruffled skirt and long socks ensured no hint of his legs was exposed.
Shimano stood across the room, his arms still crossed as he studied the final result. His brother, who had always carried himself with a hardened edge, looked so delicate like this, so fragile. The pastel pinks and reds, the soft fabrics, and the gentle curls of the wig transformed him into something almost doll-like, his usual scars and tension hidden beneath the layers of careful design.
Shimano thought to himself, his gaze lingering. Never thought I’d see him look like this. But here he is, my little big brother, sittin’ there like he’s the most precious thing in the damn room.
He didn’t say any of it aloud, keeping his thoughts to himself as his smirk softened into something more contemplative.
The maids approached Sagawa with their final touches, moving with precision as they began applying light makeup to his face. A soft dusting of blush brought subtle warmth to his pale cheeks, while a hint of eyeliner and mascara framed his eyes, making them appear brighter and more expressive. Finally, they added a delicate shade of pink lipstick, its soft gloss catching the light as they carefully applied it to his lips.
Satisfied with their work, one of the maids stepped forward with a small bottle of floral perfume, giving a light spritz over Sagawa’s shoulders and hair. The gentle, sweet scent filled the air, adding to the overall transformation. The maids stepped back, glancing at Shimano for approval, and at his slight nod, they quietly bowed and left the room.
Shimano waited until the door had closed before stepping closer to Sagawa, his large figure looming over him as he leaned slightly on the armrest of the chair. His gaze roamed over his oath brother, taking in the full transformation now that it was complete.
After a moment, Shimano crossed his arms and let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “If I’m gonna take ya out in public, this is the way to do it,” he said, his voice rough but laced with a certain satisfaction. “Don’t want anyone recognizin’ ya, not after everything. Better to keep your identity under wraps… and I gotta admit, ya look damn good like this.”
He tilted his head slightly, giving Sagawa an appraising glance. “Gotta give credit where it’s due. Ya pull this off way better than I expected. Hell, it’s a sight better than anything Majima ever tried when he was messin’ around with disguises.” Shimano smirked, his tone dipping into something almost playful. “He might’ve gotten creative, but this? This is somethin’ else. Ya look beautiful, Tsu, gotta admit it. Now, let’s see if this gets us through tonight without any problems.”
Shimano straightened up and beckoned to Sagawa with a slight tilt of his head, his expression expectant.
“C’mon, Tsu,” He said, his tone coaxing but firm. “Ain’t just sittin’ there all night. Lemme hear somethin’. Even a little bit’ll do.”
He stepped closer, reaching down to grasp Sagawa’s hands and pull him gently to his feet. The sudden movement made Sagawa instinctively grab onto Shimano’s arm for balance, his grip firm as he steadied himself. The heels of the platform shoes wobbled slightly against the floor.
“You’re alright,”
Shimano murmured, his voice lowering slightly as he leaned in, his hand resting at Sagawa’s waist to steady him. Without waiting for any further hesitation, Shimano pressed a kiss to Sagawa’s lips, slow and deliberate, his other hand cupping Sagawa’s cheek.
When Shimano pulled back, his sharp gaze locked onto Sagawa’s, searching for any flicker of acknowledgment. For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint sound of Sagawa’s uneven breathing. Then, in a quiet but deliberate voice, Sagawa murmured, “Futoshi…”
Shimano’s smirk faltered, replaced by a rare, genuine look of surprise and satisfaction. Sagawa’s grip tightened slightly on Shimano’s arm, his fingers trembling faintly but firm in their hold. “Fu… Futoshi,” he said again, his voice scratchy but unmistakably clear. “You do all this… for me?”
The words hit Shimano like a bolt of lightning. His grin widened, a strange warmth flickering in his usually sharp eyes. “That’s right,” he said softly, his hand brushing along Sagawa’s shoulder. “All for you, Tsu. Now you’re finally seein’ it, huh?”
Sagawa’s lips twitched, almost as if he wanted to smirk himself, though his expression was still clouded with exhaustion. His voice, though hoarse, carried a faint edge of sarcasm as he muttered, “Yeah, great. Just what I always wanted—dressed up like some porcelain doll for your amusement, Fu...”
Shimano raised an eyebrow at the remark, his smirk widening into something amused yet unbothered. He leaned in slightly, his large frame towering over Sagawa as he replied, “For my amusement? Nah, bro. (Sis?) This ain’t just for me—it’s for you, too. Can’t have ya lookin’ like anything less than perfect out there, can we?”
He gestured lightly at Sagawa’s attire, his expression softening as he added,
“Besides, ya pull it off better than anyone else could. Hell, might even say ya look beautiful like this. Not that ya’d admit it.”
Sagawa rolled his eyes faintly, the corners of his lips twitching as if he were suppressing another remark. But Shimano caught the subtle shift in his posture—a slight ease in the tension, a faint acceptance hidden beneath the sarcasm.
Shimano chuckled, his hand brushing lightly against Sagawa’s shoulder. “That’s more like it, bro. Keep that fire—just means ya still got somethin’ left in ya. Now come on, let’s make sure it doesn't go to waste.”
With that, he guided Sagawa forward, his grip steady and supportive, as though he were steering him toward something greater than just the night ahead.
As they moved toward the door, Shimano glanced at Sagawa, smirking as he tightened his hold on his oath brother’s arm.
“Y’know, Tsu, it’s funny,” Shimano began, his tone teasing. “For someone who’s still strugglin’ to get words out, ya never seem to have a problem when it comes to insultin’ me. Makes me think yer memory’s workin’ just fine where it counts. Maybe it’s ’cause ya know I can take it,” He added, guiding him toward the sleek black car parked at the curb. “Or maybe yer sharp tongue’s just rememberin’ who it belongs to.”
They reached the car, where a driver quickly stepped out to open the door for them. Shimano ushered Sagawa inside first before climbing in himself. Instead of sitting beside him or across from him, Shimano pulled Sagawa onto his lap, ignoring the smaller man’s startled protest.
“Relax, Tsu,” Shimano said with a grin, his large hands settling on Sagawa’s waist to keep him steady. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with gettin’ comfortable.”
As the car began to move, Shimano’s attention shifted to the ribbons and frills of Sagawa’s outfit, his fingers trailing over the delicate fabric with interest. “Y’know,” he began, his voice teasing, “we should give ya a girly name to match this look. Somethin cute, somethin’ that fits all this frilly business..”
Sagawa scowled faintly, turning his head just enough to give Shimano a pointed glare. “You’re enjoying this too much..”
Shimano chuckled, completely unfazed. “Course I am. Don’t get opportunities like this every day. But don’t worry—I’ll pick somethin’ that works. Not like that ridiculous name Majima came up with for himself. What was it? Goromi? Never understood that whole thing. Didn’t suit him, didn’t suit nothin’.”
He laughed again, clearly not taking Majima’s fem persona seriously, and added, “But you? I’ll make sure it’s somethin’ ya can live with. Somethin’ better.”
Sagawa sighed, leaning slightly into Shimano’s chest despite himself, clearly resigned to the teasing. “You really have too much time on your hands,” he muttered, though there was no real bite in his tone.
Shimano grinned, his hands resting lightly on Sagawa’s hips as the car continued toward their destination. “And all of it’s yours today, sis. Better get used to it.”
As the car continued its smooth ride, Shimano held Sagawa firmly on his lap, the teasing grin never leaving his face. He seemed to revel in the moment, completely at ease, while Sagawa sat stiffly, his expression flickering between discomfort and uncertainty. His gaze drifted downward, lingering on the pastel frills of the dress, the delicate gloves covering his hands, and the small ribbons that decorated his figure.
It wasn’t just the outfit that unsettled him—it was everything it represented. Sagawa had been raised in a world where masculinity was rigid, where even a hint of softness or femininity was seen as weakness. To find himself in this attire now, with Shimano doting on him so openly, was deeply unsettling, especially with the lingering haze of his injured mind clouding his ability to fully process his emotions. There was a tug-of-war inside him, a faint sense of humiliation mixing with confusion and something else he couldn’t quite name.
Shimano, oblivious to—or perhaps enjoying—Sagawa’s conflicted state, leaned in with his usual smirk. “Y’know, Tsu,” he started, his voice low and teasing, “you look real good like this. Gotta admit it. But I get the feelin’ ya don’t quite know what to make of it yourself.”
Sagawa didn’t respond, his lips pressing into a tight line as he shifted slightly, trying to avoid Shimano’s piercing gaze. Shimano chuckled, catching the subtle movement and tightening his hold on Sagawa’s waist to keep him in place.
“What’s wrong?” Shimano asked, tilting his head as he lifted one of Sagawa’s gloved hands and pressed a kiss to the soft fabric. “Guess that’s why it works, Tsu. Ain’t nobody would expect to see ya like this. Keeps ya safe. And if it drives me a little crazy, well, that’s just a bonus.”
Sagawa’s brow furrowed, his grip on his dress tightening slightly as he tried to steady himself.
Shimano ran a hand along the ribbon at Sagawa’s back, tugging at it slightly.
“Y’know,” he continued, his tone dropping into something more possessive, “I love my women to be like this. Delicate, done up all nice, just for me. And only I get to see what’s underneath. Nobody else gets that privilege.”
His grin shifted slightly into something more disdainful as he added, “That’s why Majima’s whole ‘Goromi’ thing never sat right with me. Facial hair, muscles, and that tough guy act of his—doesn’t work. Never did. It’s a joke, tryin’ to mix all that together.”
Shimano leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “But you, Tsu? You’re perfect like this. It’s like this whole look was made for you. And it’s all mine to enjoy.”
Sagawa’s lips parted slightly as if to respond, but no words came. He turned his head slightly, trying to focus on the passing scenery outside the car window, but Shimano’s presence was impossible to ignore.
“Don’t go quiet on me now,” Shimano murmured, his voice soft but insistent. He brushed a thumb along Sagawa’s jaw, tilting his face back toward him. “I’ll be real sad if ya shut down again, Tsu. I’ve waited too damn long to hear your voice again. So go on—say somethin’, even if it’s just to argue with me. Ya know I love that about ya.”
Sagawa’s breathing grew uneven, his hands moving up to clutch at the soft blonde curls of the wig. His fingers twisted into the artificial strands as his head dipped forward, his body curling slightly inward as though trying to shut everything out. His thoughts swirled chaotically, a mix of confusion, frustration, and the lingering discomfort of the situation pulling him toward the edge of what felt like another overwhelming episode.
Shimano noticed the shift immediately. His smirk faded, replaced with a scowl of irritation. This wasn’t how he’d planned for the day to go, and he wasn’t about to let it derail.
“Oi, Tsu,” Shimano barked, his voice sharp as he gripped Sagawa’s wrists firmly, prying them away from his head. “What the hell do ya think you’re doin’? Snap out of it. I ain’t lettin’ you ruin the whole damn day before we’ve even gotten started.”
Sagawa’s head jerked slightly at the sound of Shimano’s voice, his eyes unfocused as he tried to ground himself. But the panic still clung to him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to regain control.
Shimano’s jaw tightened as he shifted Sagawa more securely onto his lap, his hands cupping either side of Sagawa’s face to force him to look up. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone lowering but retaining its edge. “You’re fine. Just breathe, alright? In and out. Ya hear me, bro? Don’t go losin’ yourself on me now.”
Sagawa’s hands twitched slightly, his gaze flickering as he tried to follow Shimano’s words. The intensity in Shimano’s voice, combined with the firm grip on his face, slowly started to pull him back, grounding him in the moment.
“That’s it,” Shimano muttered, his thumbs brushing against Sagawa’s cheeks in a rare, almost gentle gesture. “There ya go. You’re tougher than this, Tsu. You’ve been through worse. Ain’t no reason to fall apart over somethin’ silly like a dress.”
The car slowed slightly as it approached a stop, but Shimano didn’t look away from Sagawa. His voice softened just enough to be coaxing, though the impatience was still clear in his eyes. “Don’t go quiet on me, alright? We’ve got plans. You’re comin’ with me, and you’re gonna be fine. Just keep breathin’.”
Sagawa’s trembling gradually eased, though his grip on Shimano’s arm was tight, his fingers digging into the fabric of Shimano’s suit as if holding on for stability. His lips parted slightly, and he took a shaky breath.
“There we go,” Shimano said, his voice gruff but relieved. “Knew ya had it in ya. Just needed a little push, huh?”
As Sagawa’s trembling began to ease, his grip still firm on Shimano’s arm, his thoughts drifted. Amid the lingering haze of his episode, his mind settled on Majima—a name and face that felt too vivid to forget, even when everything else seemed scattered. Majima, with his wild energy, sharp tongue, and that strange mix of defiance and loyalty, had been a constant in his life for those two grueling years. The moments they’d shared—however chaotic—stood out in sharp contrast to the suffocating control Shimano now exercised over him.
He thought of Majima’s voice, how it had somehow drawn a reaction from him recently, and the way Majima had once looked at him, with something that almost resembled trust. The memories came in flashes, muddled but distinct enough to make him feel an ache that he didn’t fully understand. Yet it helped calm him.
“Alright, bro, here’s the plan,” Shimano began. “We’re gonna start with a nice meal. Fancy place. Good food. Can’t have ya wastin’ away on me.”
Sagawa blinked, slowly focusing on Shimano’s words, though his expression remained distant.
“After that,” Shimano continued, waving his hand dismissively as though the details were an afterthought, “we’ll figure somethin’ else out. Go shoppin’ if ya want. Or maybe just a walk, look at the damn birds or whatever it is that catches yer eye. You’ve always been into that sorta thing, right? Maybe it’ll jog somethin’ loose in that head of yours.”
There was a faint edge of disinterest in Shimano’s voice, as though these activities weren’t ones he cared for himself, but he was clearly trying—for Sagawa’s sake, if not entirely selflessly.
Shimano smirked slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Hell, maybe we’ll hit a club. See how you handle it. All the noise, the people, the lights… could be a good test. Test your maneuverability, see how ya react. Can’t keep ya cooped up forever, and this seems as good a time as any to see if ya can manage bein’ out in the world again.”
His grip on Sagawa tightened slightly as he added, “Don’t get me wrong.. I ain’t sure you’re ready for all this yet. But that’s why we’re doin’ this—so I can find out.”
Sagawa didn’t respond, his mind still caught between Shimano’s words and the lingering presence of Majima in his thoughts. But as the car began to slow, signaling their arrival at the first stop, he clenched his fists slightly, steeling himself for whatever came next.
The car rolled to a stop outside the upscale restaurant, and the driver wasted no time opening the door. Shimano stepped out, adjusting his suit. Turning back, he extended a hand to Sagawa, who hesitated before reluctantly taking it. Shimano grinned as he helped him out of the car, the frills and ribbons of Sagawa’s outfit shifting slightly in the breeze.
“There’s my little lady. You’re gonna charm the hell outta this place, Tsu. All dressed up, lookin’ like that—couldn’t ask for a better date, could I?”
Sagawa’s lips tightened, his discomfort obvious as he tugged slightly at the skirt of the dress. Beneath it, the tight pink panties Shimano had insisted he wear felt constricting, adding another layer of irritation to an already overwhelming situation. The fabric dug into his skin with every step, a constant, unwelcome reminder of Shimano’s control over even the most private details of his life.
Shimano seemed to notice Sagawa’s subtle fidgeting, his grin widening as he leaned down slightly, his voice low and full of amusement. “Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart? Those panties not sittin’ right? Told ya they’d take a little gettin’ used to.” He straightened up, his hand moving to the small of Sagawa’s back as he guided him toward the restaurant doors. “But don’t you worry. You look perfect in ‘em. Just like everything else I’ve picked for ya.”
Sagawa shot him a glare, but Shimano only chuckled, clearly relishing his reaction. Inside, the restaurant was quiet and elegant, the soft lighting and polished decor a stark contrast to the tension between them. The staff greeted them politely, and Shimano nodded with the confidence of someone who owned the room. He led Sagawa to a reserved table by the window, keeping a hand on him the entire time, as though staking a claim.
As they sat down, Shimano leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning Sagawa from head to toe. “Alright, my little lady,” he said, the teasing lilt in his voice unmistakable. “Let’s see what catches your eye. Or do ya want me to order for ya? Could pick somethin’ dainty' to match that outfit of yours.”
Sagawa shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers curling into the fabric of his dress as he tried to ignore the tightness beneath it.
“I can… pick for myself,” Sagawa muttered, his voice low but firm, though his tone carried more exhaustion than defiance.
Shimano raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased with the response. “There’s that fire,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You’re gettin’ better at this, Tsu. Keep it up, and maybe I’ll even let ya take the lead next time.” He reached across the table, taking Sagawa’s gloved hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
Sagawa’s jaw tightened, his fingers twitching slightly in Shimano’s grasp, but he didn’t pull away. His discomfort was evident, but Shimano’s grip was as steady as ever, and the faint smirk on his face made it clear he wasn’t letting up anytime soon.
As the server approached their table, she placed two leather-bound menus in front of them and poured complimentary cups of steaming tea. Shimano took a brief glance at the menu, then leaned back as he gave their drink order—a bottle of sake for himself and a light, sweet cocktail for Sagawa. The server bowed and left, her footsteps fading into the quiet hum of the restaurant.
Shimano slid one of the menus toward Sagawa with a casual motion. “Here,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “Pick somethin’ nice and don’t go tryin’ to talk to anyone but me. Mimickin’ a lady’s voice? That ain’t somethin’ you’re ready for yet.”
Sagawa’s eyes flicked to the menu, though he didn’t bother to open it. None of what he did mattered. His younger brother watched him. He placed a hand over one of Sagawa’s gloved ones, his thumb brushing lightly over the lace.
“Y’know,” Shimano began, his tone low and almost affectionate, “I’ve been thinkin’ about all the things I wanna do with ya, Tsu. All the places we could go. Walks through the park, just you and me, feedin’ the birds or somethin’ nice like that. Maybe even a weekend trip somewhere nice. Get away from all this noise for a bit.”
Sagawa’s fingers twitched slightly under Shimano’s hand, his gaze lowering as he absorbed the words. He wasn’t sure how to respond—or even if he wanted to. The mixture of Shimano’s possessiveness and affection left him in a strange state of unease, compounded by the fact he had hardly ever displayed this in the past. Not that he could recall.
Sagawa shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the frills of the dress brushing against his legs and the tightness of the panties digging into his skin only adding to his unease. His fingers fidgeted against the edge of the menu as he avoided Shimano’s intense gaze, trying to focus on anything but the weight of the man’s hand still resting over his.
“Tsu,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, “c’mere. Sit on my lap.”
Sagawa’s eyes widened slightly, his discomfort flashing in his expression.
“Bro, I—”
“I said, come here.” The authority in his tone left no room for argument, and Sagawa hesitated only a moment longer before reluctantly pushing himself up from his seat. His steps were slow and deliberate, and as he moved toward Shimano, he cast a glance around the room, noting the curious stares from nearby customers.
Shimano, completely unbothered by the attention, grabbed Sagawa’s hand and guided him down onto his lap with ease. His large arms wrapped securely around Sagawa’s waist, pulling him close as he leaned back in his chair. The tension in the room was palpable, but no one dared to intervene.
With Sagawa perched stiffly on his lap, Shimano tilted his head, his smirk returning as he studied him. “Relax,” he said, his voice dropping into something softer but still possessive. “Ain’t nobody here gonna say a damn thing. They know better.”
Sagawa shifted slightly, his hands fidgeting in his lap as he tried to adjust to the situation, but Shimano wasn’t about to let him settle into quiet discomfort. “Now,” Shimano murmured, leaning in closer, “kiss me.”
Sagawa frowned, his body resisting against Shimano’s hold. “Futoshi, I can’t—” he started, but Shimano’s fingers tilted his chin upward, cutting off his words.
“Kiss. Me.” Shimano repeated, his tone brooking no refusal. Reluctantly, Sagawa leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against Shimano’s in a gesture that was hesitant and stiff. But Shimano wasn’t satisfied with half-measures. He deepened the kiss, pulling Sagawa closer as his lips pressed firmly against his, one hand moving to cradle the back of Sagawa’s head as he turned it into a full on makeout session.
As Sagawa tried to adjust to the unbearable situation, Shimano’s free hand moved with practiced ease. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a small pill, which he skillfully palmed. Without breaking the kiss, he subtly dropped the pill into Sagawa’s untouched drink, watching it dissolve quickly into the liquid. By the time he pulled back, Sagawa’s face was flushed a deep red, his breathing uneven as he tried to process his face practically getting eaten.
Shimano smirked, his thumb brushing lightly over Sagawa’s cheek. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and full of satisfaction. “Now drink up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” He gestured toward the glass, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Sagawa shifted slightly in Shimano’s lap, his discomfort growing as he tried to compose himself.
“Fu…” he started, his voice low and uncertain, but Shimano cut him off with a firm hand on his chin, tilting his face back toward him.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Tsu,” Shimano said, his tone soft but with an undeniable edge of authority. “Drink. You need it after all that stammerin’ you’ve been doin’. Can’t let ingredients go to waste, right?”
With a reluctant sigh, Sagawa lifted the glass to his lips and took a small sip. The cool liquid slid down his throat, and Shimano’s smirk widened, his hand gently rubbing circles on Sagawa’s back as if to reward his compliance.
“There we go,” Shimano murmured, leaning in closer, his voice low and almost soothing. “See? Nothin’ to it. Just let me handle the hard stuff, and you—” his hand trailed to the frills of Sagawa’s dress, adjusting a ribbon with exaggerated care “—you just keep lookin’ pretty for me.”
As the drink began to take its subtle effect, Sagawa’s posture loosened slightly, his grip on the glass faltering before he set it back down on the table. Shimano watched him closely, his grin widening as he saw the tension in Sagawa’s body begin to ease.
“There it is,” Shimano said softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Knew you’d come around. Just needed a little help gettin’ there, huh?”
Sagawa’s head dipped slightly, his eyes unfocused as he leaned back against Shimano’s chest, the world around him beginning to feel distant. Shimano’s smirk remained as he tightened his grip on Sagawa’s waist, his satisfaction evident as he watched his oath brother relax into his arms.
“That’s better,” Shimano murmured, brushing a stray curl of the blonde wig from Sagawa’s face. “Now we can really enjoy the day. Just leave it all to me, bro. I’ll make sure everything goes smooth.”
With Sagawa compliant in his lap, Shimano glanced around the restaurant, daring anyone to comment or even look too long. None did. His presence alone kept everyone at bay.
The soft chime of the restaurant door opening barely caught Shimano’s attention as he focused entirely on Sagawa, who now slumped slightly in his lap. The drug was clearly taking effect, leaving Sagawa hyper-sensitive to every touch. His breaths came unevenly, and every slight brush of Shimano’s hands along his waist or arms drew faint, involuntary noises—soft whimpers and quiet hums that Shimano’s sharp ears picked up with delight.
“You’re so sensitive, Tsu,” Shimano murmured, his voice low and pleased. His hand traced slow, deliberate circles along Sagawa’s side, reveling in his oath brother’s reactions. “Didn’t think you’d relax this much already. Guess you really do trust me, don’t ya?”
Meanwhile, just beyond the dining area, two figures stepped inside the restaurant. Disguised as an inconspicuous couple, Majima and Nishida scanned the room. Nishida wore a tailored suit and glasses, exuding the air of a composed businessman, while Majima had gone all out with his disguise—a long, flowing dress, carefully applied makeup softening his angular features, and dark shades replacing his usual eyepatch to conceal his missing eye. To anyone observing, they looked like a mismatched but ordinary pair.
Majima’s one good eye, hidden behind the shades, scanned the restaurant intently. When his gaze landed on the table near the window, his steps faltered slightly. There, unmistakably, was Shimano, his broad figure dominating the scene, with Sagawa perched in his lap.
Majima’s jaw tightened as he took in the unsettling sight. Sagawa, usually sharp and composed, was clearly not himself. His head lolled slightly to one side, his movements slow and uncoordinated, while faint, almost pitiful noises escaped his lips. Shimano’s hands roamed over him possessivelyz The sight sent a spark of anger through Majima’s chest.
Nishida, noticing Majima’s sudden stillness, followed his gaze. His brow furrowed as realization dawned, and he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s them, huh? Patriarch Shimano and…” He hesitated, his tone cautious. “Sagawa-han?”
Majima’s lips thinned as he nodded. “Yeah. Look at ‘em,” he muttered, his tone cold and biting. “Shimano’s got no damn shame, treatin’ Sagawa-han like some kinda doll.”
Nishida glanced around nervously, adjusting his glasses. “Boss, this could get messy real quick. Patriarch Shimano isn’t exactly the kind of person you interrupt. What’s the plan?”
Majima straightened slightly, smoothing out the front of the dress he wore. His fingers brushed against the dark shades concealing his missing eye, and for a moment, he said nothing, his focus locked on the scene before him.
“We ain’t leavin’ without takin’ a closer look,” he muttered finally, his tone low and firm. “Tsu deserves better than this crap.”
Nishida hesitated but nodded, following closely as Majima led the way further into the dining area. His steps were deliberate, his demeanor calm and composed, but beneath the disguise, a storm brewed. Majima’s jaw tightened, his teeth gritting behind the composed smile he wore.
The hostess guided Majima and Nishida to a table near a cluster of tall decorative plants, giving them the perfect cover to observe without drawing attention. Majima adjusted the dark shades concealing his missing eye as he sat down, casually smoothing the skirt of his dress to maintain the guise. His head tilted slightly as he focused on the scene across the room—Shimano seated with Sagawa slumped on his lap, the latter visibly not himself.
Nishida sat opposite Majima, glancing briefly toward Shimano before looking back at his boss, er pretend girlfriend.
Majima kept his gaze fixed on the pair, his lips twisting into a faint grin, though his tone stayed low and serious. “We watch for now. Gotta figure out just how far gone Sagawa-han really is. Can’t rush this. I need to see how he’s actin’ before I make a move.”
Nishida nodded, his expression steady.
“Got it. But if you manage to talk to him, do you think Sagawa-han will recognize you? He doesn’t look too… aware.”
Majima’s grin turned sharper, his confidence evident. “He’ll recognize me,” he said firmly. “Ain’t no way Sagawa-han’s forgotten me, not completely. If I can talk to him, get him to hear my voice, he’ll know it’s me. That bond we had—it ain’t somethin’ that fades, no matter what Shimano’s done to him.”
Nishida glanced briefly toward Shimano’s table, then back at Majima. “And what if Patriarch Shimano notices us? That could turn messy real quick..”
Majima leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his tone calculated but calm. “That’s why we’re sittin’ here, lookin’ like any other couple,” he said, his smirk returning faintly.
“If Shimano catches us, we make it look accidental. Somewhere out in public—controlled. No direct confrontation. If Sagawa-han reacts to seein’ me, Shimano might even let us talk just to test how much control he’s got over him.”
Nishida raised an eyebrow, catching onto Majima’s reasoning. “You’re thinkin’ Shimano’s ego might work in our favor?”
Majima chuckled under his breath.
“Damn right. He’s cocky. Always has been. If he thinks he’s got Sagawa-han so wrapped around his finger that talkin’ to me won’t matter, he might let it happen just to prove a point. That’s when I’ll remind Sagawa-han exactly who I am. Just need one moment—one slip where Sagawa-han’s attention’s on me. That’s all I need.”
Nishida folded his hands in front of him, his demeanor calm and ready. “Alright, boss. I’m with you.”
Majima sat back in his chair, still outwardly composed, but his mind raced as he observed Shimano’s every move. Sagawa remained draped across Shimano’s lap, his posture slack and unnatural. The faint noises escaping Sagawa-han—a mix of soft hums and shallow breaths—tightened the coil of frustration in Majima’s chest. Majima couldn’t hear what Shimano was saying, but the smugness on his face made it easy to imagine. Every movement was calculated, every touch deliberate.
As Majima sat watching, his focus unbroken, a server approached their table, holding a tray with a single glass of red wine perched precariously at the edge. The man moved just close enough to their table before his hand tilted ever so slightly, sending the glass toppling over and splashing its contents directly onto Majima’s lap.
The red liquid soaked through the fabric of Majima’s dress, staining it immediately. The server’s face twisted into an insincere smile, his voice dripping with mock politeness.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry about that, miss,” he said, the false tone almost taunting. “Clumsy of me. Here, let me help you. You’d better go get that washed out right away. I’d be happy to show you to the ladies’ room.”
Majima froze for a fraction of a second, his instincts flaring. He turned his head slightly, scanning the restaurant with a sharp eye behind his dark shades. And then it clicked: this must be one of Shimano’s men. The pieces fell into place as Majima realized what he’d missed before—this wasn’t just any upscale restaurant. This is one of Shimano’s places. Of course, he’d have eyes everywhere.
Despite the irritation boiling beneath the surface, Majima managed to keep his composure. His lips twitched into a faint, demure smile to match his disguise as he adjusted his shades. “No need for that,” he said coolly, brushing at the damp spot on his lap. His voice was light but carried an edge that Nishida immediately recognized as dangerous.
Majima rose slowly, careful not to let his body language betray the simmering anger beneath. “We’ll be leaving instead,” he added, his tone polite but final. His words carried an undertone that said he wasn’t about to be led anywhere, least of all into an isolated space where Shimano’s lackeys could get the upper hand.
Nishida quickly stood, nodding his agreement as he grabbed their things. “..Yes, of course. We’ll get out of your way..”
The server’s fake smile didn’t waver, but his eyes narrowed slightly, clearly displeased by Majima’s refusal to play along. “Are you sure? I could—”
“Positive,” Majima interrupted, his tone firmer now, his sharp grin barely hiding the warning behind it. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
The server stepped back, his posture stiffening as Majima and Nishida made their way toward the exit. Majima’s hand clenched into a fist briefly at his side before he relaxed it, his movements calculated and calm as they left the restaurant. Once they were outside and out of immediate earshot, Majima let out a low growl of frustration.
“Patriarch Shimano’s got eyes everywhere, huh?” Nishida murmured, glancing around nervously. “That guy wasn’t a regular server..”
“Damn right he wasn’t,” Majima muttered, adjusting his shades and glancing back toward the building. “Shimano knew we were here before we even sat down. Hell, he probably owns this place.. Can’t even keep track of how many restaurants he owns now. Shit..” he felt pretty stupid over the mistake.
“So what now?” Nishida asked, his voice steady but laced with concern.
Majima’s smirk returned, though it didn’t reach his eye. “We regroup. We’ll figure out another angle, another time. But I ain’t lettin’ this stop me, Nishida. Sagawa-han ain’t stayin’ with that bastard forever.”
As they walked down the street, Nishida glanced over at Majima, his unease evident. He adjusted his tie nervously, leaning in slightly to keep their conversation private. “Boss, if that server was one of Patriarch Shimano’s men, you think he’s gonna go straight to him about us snooping around? Could that screw up everything we’re trying to do here?”
Majima slowed his pace slightly, his hands slipping into the folds of the dress as he adjusted it with exaggerated casualness. His dark shades concealed his sharp gaze, but Nishida could see the thoughtful set of his jaw. “Ain’t impossible,” Majima admitted, his voice low and steady. “Shimano’s always had his eyes everywhere, especially in his own places. No doubt that guy’s runnin’ off to report something. But…” He grinned faintly, a flash of his usual cocky demeanor breaking through.
“It might not be as bad as it sounds.”
Nishida frowned, still looking uncertain.
“..What? You’re not worried? What if he figures out why we were there? Isn’t that gonna put Sagawa-han out of reach?”
Majima shrugged, his tone turning casual, though Nishida knew it was deliberate.
“Look, Nishida, I ain’t gonna lose sleep over it. Shimano’s had spies keep tabs on me before, and it didn’t amount to nothin’. Back when I was out in public as Goromi, his lackeys reported every damn move I made. Guess they thought it was funny—or pathetic. Whatever the hell they told him, it didn’t stop me from doin’ what I wanted.”
Nishida raised an eyebrow. “But this ain’t exactly the same thing, boss. Sagawa-han’s involved now.”
Majima nodded, his smirk tightening into something more serious. “Yeah, but think about it. If that guy goes runnin’ to Shimano, what’s he gonna say? That I was sittin’ in a restaurant in a dress? Big deal. Shimano might chalk it up to me playin’ games again or wasting time with you. He’s cocky like that. Thinks I’m still just screwin’ around, keepin’ myself busy. As long as I don’t do somethin’ obvious, he won’t get suspicious enough to act.”
Nishida exhaled slowly, nodding. “I guess that makes sense. Shimano probably doesn’t think you’d have the guts to try and interfere with Sagawa-han, at least not directly.”
“Exactly,” Majima said, his grin sharpening. “As long as we play it cool, Shimano’s ego’ll do most of the work for us. He’ll either brush it off or think I’m too much of a joke now to be a threat. Either way, it buys us time.”
Nishida seemed to relax a little at that, his shoulders easing. “Alright, boss. You’re probably right. But what’s the next move?”
Majima adjusted his shades, his voice calm but firm. “We lay low for now, wait for another chance. Sagawa-han’s in there somewhere, and I’ll get through to him. Just gotta bide our time.”
As they walked further from the restaurant, Majima adjusted the dark shades on his face, the corners of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk. “Y’know, Nishida,” he began, his tone low but deliberate, “whether or not that guy’s tattlin’ to Shimano, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that now Shimano’s aware of me bein’ out in public. That works in our favor.”
Nishida glanced at him, tilting his head slightly. “How so, boss? Wouldn’t that make him more likely to keep Sagawa-han locked up?”
Majima frowned slightly in acknowledgement but shook his head.
“Maybe, but think about it. If he knows I’m out here, it makes an accidental run-in all the more believable. So, if we ‘accidentally’ cross paths somewhere public, he might see it as somethin’ he can control. He’s always been one to enjoy showin’ off his power.”
Nishida’s expression shifted, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. “So, we keep up appearances and wait for him to slip!”
Majima gave a nod of approval. “Exactly. But in the meantime, we ain’t just sittin’ on our asses.”
He stopped in his tracks, glancing at Nishida with his usual intensity. “Here’s the deal. You keep an eye on Shimano and Sagawa-han while I get outta this damn dress. I’ve been in this getup long enough for one day. Text me updates—where they’re headed, who’s around ‘em, anything you see that’s worth mentionin’.”
Nishida nodded without hesitation. “Got it, boss. I’ll stick close enough to track ‘em but not so close they catch on.”
Majima adjusted his shades again, his smirk softening into something more determined. “Good. Keep me in the loop. I don’t care if it’s small. Every move they make matters right now. And Nishida—” he paused, his tone firm. “If Shimano does catch on to you, you back off fast. Can’t have him thinkin’ we’re pushin’ too hard.”
“Understood,” Nishida replied, straightening his suit. “I’ll make it work.”
With that, Majima turned on his heel, heading toward a nearby alley to switch out of his disguise, leaving Nishida to shadow Shimano and Sagawa. The game was far from over, and Majima wasn’t about to let Shimano keep the upper hand for long.
~
At their table near the window, servers brought out plate after plate of the dishes Shimano ordered. It was quickly filled with a variety of rich and indulgent foods—perfectly seared steak, tender cuts of fish bathed in delicate sauces, bowls of fragrant rice, and colorful assortments of fresh vegetables. The presentation was meticulous, each dish carefully arranged as if prepared for royalty.
Sagawa, perched upright on Shimano’s lap, obviously looked out of it, his movements now erratic and his gaze drawn to the plates before them. The drug in his system had fully taken hold, amplifying his senses and leaving him acutely aware of every scent, every faint waft of steam rising from the food. His mouth opened slightly, a faint, involuntary whine escaping his lips as the tantalizing aroma overwhelmed him.
Shimano chuckled deeply, his hand brushing over Sagawa’s waist before reaching for a pair of chopsticks. “Look at ya,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with amusement. “Didn’t think you’d be so eager, Tsu. Guess it’s a good thing I ordered enough for the both of us.”
He picked up a tender slice of steak, its juices glistening under the soft light, and held it just in front of Sagawa’s lips. “Open up,” Shimano said, his tone commanding but smooth. “Let’s see how much ya can handle.”
Sagawa hesitated for only a moment before his lips parted, and Shimano placed the bite into his mouth. The rich, savory flavor burst on Sagawa’s tongue, and his reaction was immediate—a quiet moan as his eyes fluttered closed, his body leaning unconsciously into Shimano’s chest. The effect of the drug heightened every sensation, and the simple act of tasting the food felt almost overwhelming.
“Good, huh?” Shimano murmured, his hand stroking Sagawa’s side as he reached for another piece. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Piece by piece, Shimano fed Sagawa, each bite more decadent than the last. He alternated between morsels of steak, delicate slices of fish, and spoonfuls of perfectly seasoned rice, his gaze fixed intently on Sagawa’s reactions. With every bite, Sagawa’s noises grew softer but more frequent, the drug pulling him deeper into a haze of pleasure.
Shimano’s smirk widened as he brought a small piece of dessert—a soft, creamy mochi—to Sagawa’s lips. “Go on,” he urged, his voice thick with something darker now. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, Tsu. Don’t stop now.”
Sagawa obediently took the bite, his lips brushing against Shimano’s fingers as he did. His breath hitched slightly, and his body shivered as the sweetness melted on his tongue. His hands, resting limply at his sides, twitched slightly as if seeking something to hold onto, but he didn’t resist Shimano’s touch.
“That’s it,” Shimano murmured, his free hand sliding to rest possessively on Sagawa’s thigh. “You just keep lettin’ me take care of ya. Ain’t nothin’ better than this, is there?”
Sagawa’s voice, weak but audible, escaped in a faint whisper. “More…”
The single word was all Shimano needed to hear. He chuckled, low and pleased, as he picked up another bite. “Don’t worry, Tsu,” he said, bringing the food to Sagawa’s lips once more. “I’ll give ya everything you need. Just keep bein’ my good little brother, and you’ll never have to ask.”
The restaurant staff gave their table a wide berth, none daring to interfere with the display, while Shimano took his time, savoring every moment of control and every reaction he coaxed from Sagawa. The world beyond their table seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them locked in this intimate, unsettling exchange.
Shimano reached for a delicate parfait glass, scooping up a small serving of the creamy, layered dessert with a spoon. The blend of sweet cream, fresh fruit, and soft sponge was as decadent as everything else on the table. With a smirk, he held the spoon just in front of Sagawa’s lips, waiting for his brother to accept the bite like before.
But before Shimano could guide it to Sagawa’s mouth, Sagawa suddenly grabbed his wrist with both hands, surprising him. A burst of energy in his movements, a desperate urgency that hadn’t been there moments ago. His fingers tightened around Shimano’s thick wrist as he pulled the spoon toward himself, his lips enveloping it with a hunger that sent a delighted shiver through Shimano.
Sagawa sucked on the spoon, his lips lingering as his tongue worked over the creamy dessert. His eyes, wide and glassy, locked onto Shimano’s with a startling intensity. His gaze was needy, pleading, and utterly fixated on his brother.
Shimano’s smirk faltered for just a moment, replaced by a flicker of surprise. The change in Sagawa’s behavior was quicker and bolder than he’d anticipated. The sight of Sagawa’s flushed cheeks, his trembling hands still gripping Shimano’s wrist, and those dilated, desperate eyes sent a ripple of satisfaction through him.
“Well, look at you,” Shimano murmured, his voice dropping into a lower, more possessive tone. “Didn’t think ya’d get this worked up already. Guess that little helper’s stronger than I thought..”
Sagawa finally let the spoon slip from his mouth with a soft pop, his breath hitching as he leaned closer to Shimano, still clutching his wrist as though afraid to let go. His lips glistened slightly from the dessert, and he licked them absently, his gaze unwavering.
Shimano chuckled, his free hand coming up to brush a stray curl of the blonde wig from Sagawa’s face. “Hungry little thing, ain’t ya?” he teased, though there was an edge of genuine amusement in his tone. “You just keep lookin’ at me like that, Tsu. I’ll make sure ya don’t go wantin’ for anything.”
Shimano tilted his head, watching Sagawa intently as the younger man’s grip on his wrist tightened. The smirk on his face grew into something sharper, more deliberate, as he savored the sight before him. Sagawa’s flushed cheeks, the lingering sweetness on his lips, and those wide, dilated eyes spoke volumes. The desperation radiating off him was unmistakable, and it sent a thrill through Shimano.
Sagawa leaned closer, his breath coming in uneven pants, his hands still clutching Shimano’s wrist. He seemed caught between hesitation and the pull of something far stronger than himself. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came, only a loud, needy whine that drew a deep chuckle from Shimano.
“Careful, Tsu,” Shimano teased, his tone carrying a warning edge. “You keep actin’ like this, and people’ll start starin’ more than they already are.”
Shimano’s other hand moved to rest on Sagawa’s waist, his grip firm but not forceful. He adjusted the younger man’s position slightly, ensuring he stayed close but steady. The slight motion of the frills and lace brushing against his skin only seemed to heighten Sagawa’s sensitivity, another noise escaping his lips as his body tensed.
The restaurant staff continued to avoid their table, clearly aware of Shimano’s presence and influence. Even the other patrons, who occasionally glanced their way, quickly averted their gazes, unwilling to risk drawing attention. Shimano’s imposing aura dominated the room, leaving a bubble of privacy that he was more than willing to exploit.
“Guess I’ll have to keep feedin’ ya if this is how ya react,” Shimano said, his voice dripping with amusement as he reached for another piece of dessert. “Don’t wanna leave my little lady hungry, do I?” He held the spoon up, but this time, he didn’t wait. He guided it toward Sagawa’s lips, his smirk growing as the younger man leaned in instinctively, his breath hitching as the sweet taste overwhelmed him again.