❝ you will 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 have a special place in my heart, and that terrifies me. ❞
Kohana Akaashi is your basic chip off the block stubborn asshole. Abides by her own rules, doesn't take shit and doesn't do anything she doesn't have to. Keeping fri...
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I walked down the dark streets, hand close to my kunai pouch tied to my thigh. Drunks laid on the street, the occasional smoking woman in a skimpy outfit—it really was the same old red light district of Kumogakure. Never changed, huh?
Wearing probably the darkest clothes in my closet, consisting of black cargo pants and a black long sleeve shirt, black windbreaker thrown on over top, I made my way to the place I hoped I would never have to go to again. Yet here I was, crawling back to the sketchiest place in all of Kumo. But I needed to keep telling myself this was for a good purpose. I was doing this for Katsu. Even if he didn't know I was doing it... it was for his benefit. A good purpose. A good purpose.
Coming around the corner, I ducked into an alleyway that was dimly lit. I know, I know—super cliche, right? Dark alley leading to the gangs secret hideout. It really wasn't that sketch. It was just... I dunno—situational stuff. It was the poorest part of the village, and riddled with the people who would pay the most money to get the goods they wanted. Wasn't the red light district for nothing.
Pulling on a piece of aluminum wedged into the side of a building, I slid inside the little cut out hole behind it, before putting it back into its place.
Ducking out from underneath the small hole for the entrance, I came into a large warehouse looking area. Metal poles and stone stuck out at random spots, laundry and weapons hanging amongst one another like it was the most normal thing. It was lit by dim string lights, though only some of them were a normal color, while the rest were tinted a low green.
Couches were thrown together, some of the cushions mismatched and thrown together to complete the frame. A large metal table was off to the side, papers and food covering the top. On the wall beside the table was a map of Kumo, two pins stuck in spot on the map. One by the river, and another by a back alley before the entrance to the village. The map wasn't the only thing on the wall though.
Not even caring enough to look around the hideout to make sure I wasn't totally ignoring anyone, I walked over to the dozens of photos splattered on the wall. They weren't hung nicely, tacked up at odd angles. But it didn't really matter, as the pictures were full of smiling faces. Or at least, the kids in them looked sort of happy.
I was in a lot of them. It was surprising they had kept them after I'd left. But I suppose it would make sense to keep them here... since I was one of the founders of the gang after all. One of the people who was a leader and orchestrated a lot of the jobs we did.
The one that stuck out the most was where I couldn't have been more than seven years old. Around the same year I'd began the academy, and I began to notice the looks kids would give me. How they were scared of the way I acted. The way they'd clamp their mouths shut when I came into their general vicinity. They were genuinely afraid of my and my pretty damn aggressive nature.
