Kaito placed a few coffee mugs on a tray before lifting it and taking it to the sink behind the counter. He washed a few of them before setting them aside on a drying rack. Then he glanced at the bunny-shaped clock he despised so much on the wall. It was almost closing time.

The place wasn't as busy as he was expecting, which he supposed was a good thing. The black turtle neck he wore was starting to itch badly. He wanted to change into his regular clothes so much that he was considering ripping his shirt in half and going solo without it.

Although the thought entertained him, he knew Haruka would not let him do that.

Nina Shinji, a Japanese female detective who was supposed to help him with opening the shop wasn't there. She didn't show up to her job at all. Which meant Kaito had to figure out all on his own how to charge people for coffee. He even went to the market and used his own money to buy cakes and cookies just to stock up their counter.

As he expected, most of the customers he received were a bunch of middle-aged white women who liked to gossip. Some of them even sat in the lounge area to read some books, which annoyed Kaito. The longer a customer lingered, the more irritated he felt. He just didn't like being in the presence of so many people at once, especially Americans.

When the place was very slow and there were fewer customers, he occasionally found himself playing some game he found on his phone. It wouldn't hurt the business since there weren't any customers ordering at the moment. All the women inside seemed to be content with all of their beverages and focused deeply on their conversations with each other.

He tapped away on his screen, his character shooting at various other players in an online battle. He wasn't the type of guy who played games, but he found some relief when playing with this particular app. He got to kill with guns and it wasn't real, so Kaito was very much enjoying his newfound hobby.

He heard the bell chime but paid no mind to it. A customer had just entered but he was still tapping away on his phone without a care in the world. He was almost finished with the round in the game, he had to find one more player to eliminate, then he'd win.

"Excuse me," A soft voice called out to him. His eyes remained on his phone as he searched the in-game map for the other online player. "Hello? I'd like to order." The voice chirped even louder. Kaito swore under his breath and glanced up at the person.

It was a Hispanic woman glaring at him as if he had done something wrong. "Is it for here or to go?" Kaito pressed his lips together.

"For here."

"Continue." Kaito motioned with one hand, his other scrolling through the screen.

"Aren't you going to write it down?" The woman asked.

"Don't need to. I can remember it." Kaito tapped on the side of his head. "Continue."

"Fine. I'd like to have 2 large coffees, 4 vanilla creams in both of them and only one with 3 sugars. And.." The woman glanced at the display with all of the different desserts. "I'll have 2 chocolate muffins. What's my total?"

Kaito memorized the order but was still focused on the game. He didn't hear her last question. The girl waved her hand in front of his face, and the other player in the game killed his character, causing him to lose the round. Kaito clenched his jaw and glared at the woman.

"I said, what's my total?"

"13.17." Kaito shoved his cell into his pocket and looked at the clock again. The shop was going to close in 10 minutes and this woman wanted to dine inside. He was feeling aggravated deep down.

Kaito snatched the card out of the woman's grasp and slid it over the register. The payment went through and he gave the card back to her. The woman nodded in satisfaction before walking over to the small lounge next to the bookshelf, and she sat next to another woman.

It shocked Kaito slightly that these two women were the only ones he'd seen all day who weren't white. The woman who ordered was Hispanic, but the lady she sat next to was black. It was a bit surprising but he didn't really care to study their appearance anymore.

He just wanted to get them their coffee, so they could hurry up and leave. He grabbed two mugs and placed them on a counter and filled a small filter with crushed coffee beans. He poured out water into the filter, and let the brown hot liquid pour into both of the mugs. Then he prepared them exactly as the woman ordered, creams and sugars, and placed the mugs on a serving tray.

On his way toward the lounge, he grabbed two packages of muffins. He placed them next to the mugs and strolled towards the women, and placed the tray onto the coffee table in front of one of the chairs. "Cream with sugar," Kaito called out monotonously, and the black lady raised her hand out. He handed her the mug and handed the other coffee to the Hispanic woman.

Just as he left them and walked back over to the counter, a few words he overheard from their conversation stopped him.

~

"You didn't have to buy me coffee, Isabella." Samantha sat on a sofa near a large bookshelf. It was getting late, so it wasn't like coffee was necessary. But Isabella insisted on bringing her to a new coffee shop that opened up in their small town.

The place was called the Bunny's Barista. It was an odd name, but the inside of the building certainly fit a theme revolving around rabbits. Samantha noticed that there were only a few customers inside left, and since it wasn't so busy, only one man was working behind the counter.

Maybe they were understaffed.

"It's okay, Sam," Isabella waved her off, "Can I call you Sam?"

"Sure." Samantha nodded.

"Trust me, we're going to need coffee while working on this report. It's been stressing me out since I got involved with the investigation."

"What are you working on?" Samantha leaned forward and glanced at a stack of papers in Isabella's hands.

"I know Mr. Giles wants me to write about some local shelter for the homeless people, but personally, that's some lame sap story that usually never ends well. You know how the government says they're doing their job for the homeless but they never do." Isabella snorted. "But THIS, this is more important. The story is so creepy and insane that it's too dangerous for us to even discuss."

"If it's dangerous, then why are you so interested in the investigation?" Samantha frowned at her. She didn't like where this conversation was going. Journalists on the regular went out of their way to get a great story.

"Because I want a bonus by the end of the year." Isabella shrugged. "I get motivated by thinking about the large amount of dough that could hit my bank account." Samantha didn't bat an eye at her statement. It was just as she predicted. Getting a good story means getting a great raise or a bonus, which seemed to be a good life for journalists.

"And you need my help to write a story?"

"I'd like you to help me dig deeper." Isabella chirped. "Here's the catch, I'm doing research on a suspicious case that started a month ago. Have you ever heard about the Yakuza?" Isabella lowered her voice and glanced around suspiciously.

"The Who?" Samantha blinked at her in confusion.

"Obviously not." Isabella hummed. "The Yakuza is a Japanese crime organization. Usually, in Japan, more people are aware of the territories where certain families and clans are. Tourists are encouraged to avoid those areas in Japan, but I recently found out that the Yakuza also does some hush-hush business here in America."

Samantha was at a loss for words. When Isabella said that she was working on something dangerous, she wasn't expecting her to be talking about an entire organization designated with Japanese criminals. She pulled out her cellphone and googled the term.

When she pressed search, sure enough, disturbing images and stories about the Yakuza popped up on her screen. "You're crazy for trying to work on a case related to them." Her eyes glossed over a particular heading. "They cut off people's fingers!"

"Oh, the Yakuza does MORE than that. They're known for extorting money and smuggling drugs and dangerous weapons. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. There are a bunch of other crazier things happening under the surface. I am not going to disclose them to you here though."

"It's that bad?" Samantha bit her lip nervously. Maybe working on that shelter for the homeless story was a better idea.

"Of course! But what I'm working on specifically is very confusing to me. Japan is more tolerant of the Yakuza, America is not. So I am very confused as to how they can do work here under the radar. Have you ever heard of the world's deadliest Assassin?"

Samantha shook her head.

"All I know about him so far is that he is a Japanese man who goes by the name Kaito. There isn't a lot of background information on him. We just know he comes from Japan, and that he's ruthless. He is known for eliminating wealthy men involved with the Yakuza. He is also known for his incredible skill in knife throwing and precise aim. If archery had knives instead of arrows, this guy would be a champion every time."

"Cream with sugar." Isabella jumped when she realized that the rude man who took her order was now standing near them handing them their coffee. She didn't notice that he walked over. He was a quiet fellow.

Samantha reached for the coffee mug with the cream and sugar inside and observed the man's appearance. He was a tall and slender Asian man with glasses and dressed in a black long-sleeved turtle neck with black pants.

His hair was long for a guy, tied back into a man bun. She could tell that he definitely wasn't from their town. There was just an urban feel about him. He didn't look or carry himself like he was from the countryside.

"Thank you." Samantha smiled at him, but he didn't even look her in the eye when she spoke. He handed the other coffee to Isabella before returning back to the counter.

"He scared the living daylights out of me," Isabella mumbled. "I don't trust Asian men. Not after working on this report. I'm too paranoid now."

"He doesn't look like he could hurt us." Samantha snorted. Isabella was making a prejudiced statement based on his appearance. Although the man looked urban, he looked like the stereotypical nerd who probably worked part-time to pay off student loans. "Don't worry about him. Continue what you were saying."

"Kaito is a very skilled hunter, and the police have been chasing this guy down for YEARS. Kaito is a tease though. He liked leaving signs for people to know of his presence. One woman even said she saw blood-painted brick walls with 'XO' written on them. Usually, X.O is designated for hugs and kisses, but to him, X means that there is a target, and O means that the target has been eliminated."

"I'm sure that's just an exaggeration." Samantha sighed.

"I have photos," Isabella whispered in her ear. "Anyways, the weird thing is that he was finally taken into custody at the Queenstown Penitentiary, but now he's escaped. The police had him and lost him all in one week. How? Because it's rumored that he's working with the Yakuza. All of those rich men he targeted before were all part of Yakuza families. They were executed because of debt. If a clan or family isn't making any money, they extort the people responsible and murder them."

"Okay." Samantha said, trying to process the load of information she was just given.

"Kaito escaped from a prison that's only an hour or two away from HERE, which means that the Yakuza are HERE too."

"Oh, crap." Samantha huffed. "And you want to go after them? All just so your bank account can get full?"

"If Kaito is here, and we get proof of that, do you know how much publicity our company will get? How much money we will all make?"

"You're insane." Samantha gulped down the rest of her coffee and placed it on the coffee table. "No wonder Mr. Giles thought you were talking rubbish. You're trying to risk your life to get involved with something that shouldn't be any of our business. Let the cops handle it—"

"The cops need for articles to be published about the Yakuza, this way more people are aware. Then the Yakuza families in America would be walking on eggshells, and the police will have an easier time locating them. It's not easy to hide when a bunch of people knows about your crimes."

"I'm leaving." Samantha shook her head again. She didn't want to be involved. It looks like the promotion she wanted would have to wait. "Thank you for the coffee."

"Just consider it!" Isabella whined. "You'll never become a true journalist with that fearful attitude. We've got to be brave and dig deep for good stories!" In a way, Isabella was telling the truth. Samantha's heard of many journalists going through dangerous situations just to uncover issues that people needed to know about.

"I'll consider it. But I still think you're crazy." Samantha snapped at her and took a step forward. She walked into something hard. It was the man who worked there, and he was going back to grab the empty cups. She steadied herself and apologized to him before leaving the shop.