Hunting Akuma (Book Two of The Yakuza Series) (✔️)

四 (Four)

A/N:

Poor Ryu.....🥺🥺😢😢

Enjoy!

-B.

~~~~~~~~~
(Aria's POV)

I woke up to find myself alone in bed. I looked in the bathroom, living room, kitchen, office, guest bedroom, and every other room in the house. Ryu was nowhere to be seen.

Then I noticed that the basement door was cracked open. I walked down the stairs to find Ryu doing pull-ups. The kitten was sitting below him, swatting at his feet every time he came down.

I walked over, picked up the kitten, and stood in front of him.

"That bad?" I asked.

He didn't respond.

"You....you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to." I said softly.

He dropped to the floor and shook his head. "I want to tell you. No secrets remember."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It.....If I talk about it...it's going to bring things up that I've worked hard to forget." He said running his hand through his hair.

"If that's the case then don't tell me. I won't be mad."

He sat down on the floor and grabbed my hand. He gave it a tug telling me to sit down too. I sat down in front of him and let the kitten go. He took off running around.

"When we were out the other day getting the paint, I saw someone. At least I think I saw them. I looked away for a second and then they were gone."

"Who was it?"

"His name is Jun Minami."

~~~~~~~~~
(Ryu's POV)

** Flashback**
Ryu, Age Five

I stood in the training room with my head bowed down. My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.

Father stood in front of me with an escrima, or kai, stick in his hand. One of the sticks used in stick fighting.

He was angry at me. Very angry.

So I knew what was coming next.

"Go stand in the corner." He ordered, his voice hard.

I walked over and stood in the corner, my back facing him. I heard him walk over behind me before he ordered me to kneel down.

I kneeled down and braced myself for what was coming.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Two sharp hits to my back with the stick. Tears threatened to roll down my cheeks, but I held them back. Crying would just get me hit more.

He never hit me hard enough to bleed or scar. It would always just bruise and welt. It'd get as close to bleeding as it could without breaking skin.

I knew he was about to hit me again when the door opened.

"Stand up and turn around." He ordered and I scrambled to get on my feet.