02

                                    

                                          
Yaz
17 years old 
Present Day, 7:00 p.m., Los Angeles, California. 
When I was a little girl, love was something foreign to me, like what's at the bottom of the ocean. It was mysterious and unpredictable. But now Im just a little older and Ive seen lovers die to protect each other. I've seen people make stupid decisions for this concept of love and I've seen them kill for it. 
So you wouldn't be surprised when I say that I secretly think love is neglection. 
"Isamu!" I shout, jogging to catch up with him, my hair in its ponytail whipping back and forth. When I'm jogging alongside him, he asks, "Don't you have anything better to do?"
I smile sweetly at him, "nope." Donʻt you? I thought you were the eldest son of the Japanese mafia? " "I got you there, didn't I?" I say, tilting my head with a knowing look.He just looks forward again with a smile tipping at the corner of his lips as we jog in silence and I smile to myself in victory. 
Ive been in love with him since I was a child, but when he turned 12, his dad took him somewhere for a few months, and when they returned, Isamu was different. He was colder and meaner, and quiet too, like the world was chaotic and he was the only silent one. 
But it never stopped my feelings for him. I came to love his lilting quietness. His silent way of caring He made sacrifices that hurt people and choices that were selfish in their own way. Although he was only 18, he had already killed many for the sake of the mafia he would lead, and I loved him for it more. It may make me the most fucked up person on earth, but I would be fucked up a thousand times if it meant he would love me too. 
The rest of the jog was quiet in the early morning breeze, and I would glance towards Isamu a lot. When we finally reached the house once more, he walked in and didn't wait for me, shutting the door in my face. Rude. I push the door open to see Lyn Sato sitting at the kitchen counter with a cup of tea and a book in each hand. I walked up to her and she looked up, her eyes brightening, and I smiled. 
"Give me a hug, Lyn," I said, opening my arms and coming closer to her. She looks at the sweat on my face and scrunches her nose, then her eyes widen as my arm comes around her.
"Please stop," she says, laughing as she pushes me away. I rub my face on her sweater and laugh. 
We have been staying here in Los Angeles for about a month now. I met Lyn when I got here since she had been arranged to marry my twin brother Haru. The house had been bought in celebration for us to stay in. She and I had become fast friends, almost like sisters. 
Lyn Sato is the adoptive daughter of the rising mafia in the USA. So that is why she is marrying my brother, since the Kishimotos are the second ranked mafia in Japan and the closest allies to the Yamas, the highest ranked mafia in Japan. 
I take a sip of her tea, then wince when the hot liquid burns my tongue. Lyns eyes widen and she starts to fret, and I tell her I'm fine. 
Just then, my brother walks in and there's this awkward silence and Lyn is blushing. Haru walks to the kitchen and makes some water, greeting us briefly. Lyn smiles softly at him. 
"Gross," I say, as Lyn blushes again. 
Haru ignores me and looks at Lyn. Clearing his throat, he says, "Lyn, I need to talk to you." 
She nods absent-mindedly but looks over to me and I walk off. "Go ahead, Ill be in the shower." 
I turn my head to glance at them and Lyn is blushing red. Haru has this look on his face and I know that what he wants to talk to her about won't make her happy. 
I frown a bit. I know my twin a little too well.