"Shoto,"
The woman said shakily, tucking a handful of white, wiry hair behind her ear.
"Mommy's going to go away for a while, okay? But it's not permanent. When you're old enough, he'll tell you where to find me, alright?"
She placed a gentle hand over Shoto's freshly bandaged left cheek, her grey eyes beginning to well uncontrollably.
Even then, at the tender age of five, Shoto could tell that his mother was a damaged soul.
Her eyes were constantly sad or tired, while his father's were still burning with hate.
He never fully understood why his mother had to leave, since despite scarring him physically, the wound left behind would never live up to the invisible ones left by his own father;
otherwise known as Shoto's first victim.

•×•×•
♠16 years later♠

The hallway was illuminated by randomly scattered lanterns, and was otherwise dark and murky.
The large, stainless steel door that was placed halfway down the already-suspicious- hallway was enough to make the average person run away screaming.
This was Shoto's reality, however; his space to do what he does best.
Interrogate.

"P-Please. I want to go home."
The man sobbed, washing away whatever dignity he had left.

"Me too buddy,"
Shoto slipped on a rubber glove, turning towards a tray of surgical instruments.
His hand hovered over the apparatus in a moment of decision, until he chose a scalpel blade.
"Me too."

"Why do you want to know where he is?" He cried.

"What I do with the information I acquire is none of your concern. Now, tell me what I need to know; or I'll do something you'll regret."

Before the cold blade even traced the man's skin, he exclaimed,
"Alright, alright! I'll tell you where he is. The reason that he hasn't been out is because he got in accident. An attack of justice or something like that."

"Then whose been taking his shifts?"

"His brother, Tenba or whatever. The family keeps these things hushed."
Shoto nodded, placing his scalpel back onto the nearby tray.

It was Shoto's responsibility to handle the finances within the Honō(炎) Gang, and whenever someone was falling behind, it was also his job to find out why.
Recently, one of the smaller contributors went silent. They made no payments in advance, nor did they state if there was a change in situation.
They worked at a bar called Rōzu(ローズ) that the Honō(炎) Gang owned, paying 75% of the profits earned towards them.

That wasn't the current concern, however. Shoto had to find himself a ride.

•×•×•

Ding-ling!

The almost torturous ringing sounded from the front door's bell, bringing Tenya's nonchalant expression to a grit frown.
He didn't even turn to face the apparently illiterate individual, as he was busy drying the last of the martini glasses.
"The sign says closed."
He stated firmly.

Silence.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Tenya finished wiping the martini glass in his hand and placed it among the others.

He began turning around,
"If you don't leave this instant, I'll be forced to ta-"

His stomach dropped when he recognised the man as one of the leaders of the Honō Gang, and the reason why his family has been swimming in debt lately.
Tenya's mind went blank, the source of all his distress and frustration standing merely 3 feet away.

How was he going to handle this?

•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•∆•
Thank you for reading part 1 of 'Flames & Roses'! Please leave a '⭐' or comment if you enjoyed!

[S.K.]