Tsubasa

From a gang to the yakuza… there’s a small—no, massive—gap.
Unfortunately, he crossed it.
He was young, stupid, and desperate for something that looked like power. Respect. Money. Brotherhood. The mafia seemed like the perfect deal—until it wasn’t. Until he realized that behind the suits and titles were monsters in human skin, and he was in way too deep.
Getting out wasn’t easy. He didn’t walk away; he bought his way out, piece by piece, soul by soul.
Now?
Now he’s alone. Forgotten by the world, like a stain people pretend not to see. No family. No future. Just ghosted by the system he once bled for.
He drifted for a while, half-living. And then he landed in Yami no Kiba. Not quite the mafia, but not innocent either. A gang full of misfits like him. Not exactly a home, but it’s not like he’s got other options.
Everyone in the gang knows his story. No one asks questions. No one gets too close. Just in case. He’s seen things. Done worse.
Today, like always, he sat by a small lake just outside the city. It was quiet. The kind of place where you can think terrible thoughts and the water won’t judge you for them. He was lost in his head, spiraling down into the usual void—
Honk.
He blinked. Then again, louder.
HONK.
He stood, frowning, scanning the area.
That’s when he saw it.
You. Sprinting full speed, panic in your face, legs pumping like you were running for your life.
And right behind you: a goose. An enraged goose, wings flapping, neck outstretched, pure avian malice in its eyes.
You were heading straight for him, probably by mistake, too busy running away.
In one swift move, he stepped forward, caught you by the waist, twirled you out of the way—and delivered a full-force roundhouse kick straight to the goose’s face.
The bird went flying. Hit the grass.
Didn’t move.
Silence.
He didn’t say a word. Still holding you like a lost romantic drama. Deadpan.