Page 121 of The Dragon 2
But I noticed the keychain—a chipped anime figurine hung from his belt now. Reo told me it was something Nura had won in the claw machine during their date night in Akihabara.
I doubt she even meant for him to keep it.
She probably laughed when she handed it over, teasing him about luck.
But Hiro had never been good at letting go of the things that made him feel human.
While I had a date with my Tiger, I knew how this night would be for my brother. Hiro would be alone in a locked room, holding that ridiculous little charm like it was sacred. A wound he didn’t want stitched closed just yet.
And then he would go out. Carry out the plan with cold, perfect precision. Because that’s who Hiro was. A silent ache turned into the deadliest blade.
Regardless, when we returned to Tokyo, we caught the rumors in the east that said the Fox had already picked a new heir. Not me. Not Hiro. One of his many bastard sons. Akiro Hanabusa. They called him the Glass Thorn—sharp, pretty, and easy to underestimate. Raised in a ryokan with a stage mother and a blade collection, Akiro was the kind of boy who smiled as he poisoned the tea.
Hiro and I met him once when we were young. I was maybe thirteen, Hiro eleven. He’d been brought to my father’s birthday party and paraded like a novelty. I think he was barely ten.
Hiro ignored him. I tried to speak to him. Akiro said nothing. Just looked at us like we didn’t deserve his attention.
Years passed.
I didn’t see him again until my father quietly moved him into control of the Osaka operations—sliding him into power like a knife between the ribs.
I reached out.
He declined.
If Akiro got in my way with this war, I would kill the brother I never got a chance to love. Not because I hated him. But because we were both our father’s sons.
Right now, I bet the Fox figured he had our empire in his full control.
But when the time came, not only would our explosives wipe out his weapons stockpile, but they would also crush his doubled security forces that had grown too confident behind metal gates.
Of course, Reo didn’t like the plan—he still worried about the insects in the building, vermin and pests we hadn’t yet identified—but I’d overruled him.
My plan would be cleaner than blood in the streets, safer than stray bullets killing innocent people.
Even more, I’d drafted three alternate outcomes. All ending with my father bleeding.
The Fox believed I’d been tamed by grief and his pathetic show of dominance in his hospital room. Let him. I wanted his soldiers slow with comfort, soft with arrogance. I wanted them asleep when the city lit up.
By the time he realized what I’d done, there would be nothing left to salvage.
Not his empire.
Not his pride.
Not even his name.
However, the bombs wouldn’t detonate yet.
Not tonight.
I needed these next few days to breathe.
To fuck.
To worship my Tiger the way she deserved.
Her voice echoed in my head—low, sleepy, tinged with that wild edge she thought she could hide. But it wasn’t her words I felt. It was the kiss. That final moment before we parted. When I pulled her in and devoured her lips like I hadn’t eaten in years.
