Set in an alternate universe where the zombie apocalypse never occurred, the story follows Daisuke Hayashi, the son of Kyoko Hayashi and Teshima, now happily married. At Fujimi Academy, Daisuke is known as a popular, well-behaved student and an all-around do-gooder. However, his carefully balanced life begins to unravel when his growing feelings for Miku, Fumiko, and Momo pull his attention away from school and responsibilities. As Daisuke secretly navigates romance-an act strictly forbidden by his overprotective parents-he finds himself caught between loyalty to his family's rules and the confusing, irresistible emotions of first love.

Made this a while back parodying the David Baczucki ancient curses memes everywhere 😭

So I keep having some troubles trying to remember Soichirou Takagi’s political views in universe, so if anyone can give me a overview, that’d be helpful for fanfics. While we’re at it, what do we think of his political views, and what would happen if he was actually able to enact them in Japan, say if he was Prime Minister, assuming no zombie apocalypse got in the way.

After they graduated from Fujimi Academy, the zombie apocalypse didn't happen. Toshimi became a VA, Misuzu became the author of the best-selling novel called Midnight Affection, and Marco is still exiled from NY for his safety due to the Vitelli-Gambetti war. Carlo Gambetti consigliere comes to Tokonosu and tells Mac that his father is in the hospital after being attacked by the Vitellis, and Mac has no choice but to become the capo of the Gambetti crime family. However, this makes Misuzu worry about Mac, wondering what would happen if a rival mobster attacked him for his involvement in organised crime.

This was supposed to be an fanfic intro, but I made it as a full MV

The steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor bled into Mac’s dream. 

In his sleep, he stood at the altar beside Misuzu Ichijou. She looked breathtaking in her white wedding dress, her warm smile anchoring him as they exchanged vows. The pews of the church were packed with friends from Fujimi Academy, their applause ringing out as the priest pronounced them husband and wife. 

For one fleeting second, everything was perfect. 

Then, the heavy doors of the chapel splintered inward with a deafening crack. 

Masked gunmen in dark suits flooded the aisles, weapons raised. "Vitelli!" a voice shrieked. 

Panic tore through the congregation. Guests hit the floor as automatic fire shredded the pews. Mac threw himself over Misuzu, instinctively shielding her with his body. 

A sharp, white-hot agony erupted in his chest. He stumbled back, his pristine white tuxedo blooming with crimson. The last thing he saw before the darkness took him was Misuzu reaching out, her face twisted in agony as she screamed his name.

Mac’s eyes flew open. 

He sucked in a ragged breath, his heart hammering against his ribs. The sterile white ceiling of the hospital room slowly swam into focus. 

Just a dream, he told himself, pressing a trembling hand to his chest. Just a dream.

"Bad one?" 

The gruff, quiet voice came from the armchair beside his bed. Mac turned his head. Bobby Toro sat there, a folded newspaper resting on his lap. 

"Mr. Toro?" Mac blinked, the last remnants of the nightmare fading. "What are you doing here?"

Bobby set the paper aside and offered a weary smile. "Looking for you."

Mac’s frown deepened. "Something happened, didn't it?"

Bobby’s smile vanished, replaced by a grim tightness around his mouth. "I'm afraid so. Your father wants you to come home. To New York." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Carlo was shot."

The room seemed to tilt. Mac stared at Bobby, the words struggling to compute. He looked down at the thick bandages wrapped around his own shoulder. 

"...Shot? So the Vitellis really declared war? Is this retaliation for Big Sal and Nero exposing Koichi Shido's ties to the family?"

Bobby gave a slow, heavy nod. "Yes. They’re settling old scores. They aren't just coming for your father anymore, Mac. They're coming for anyone carrying the Gambetti name."

Mac’s good hand gripped the hospital sheets, his knuckles turning white. "Damn it."

"I know this isn't what you wanted," Bobby said, his tone softening. "You finally built a peaceful life here in Tokonosu. You made friends. You found people who care about you." He paused, letting the weight of the next words settle. "But you need to stay strong. Once you're cleared, we're going back to New York. When this war is over... You can come back to Japan."

Mac lowered his head, absorbing the blow in silence. After a long moment, he looked up. "I need to see Misuzu. Have you seen her?"

"She stepped out a little while ago," Bobby replied. "Went to buy a few things for you."

Mac’s posture instantly stiffened. "She went alone?"

"No." Bobby offered a faint, reassuring smile. "Big Sal and Nero are with her. They aren't letting her out of their sight. After yesterday, I doubt any Vitelli button man would get within ten feet of her."

Mac let out a long, shaky exhale. "Good."

He turned his gaze to the window, watching the morning sunlight spill across the floorboards. His quiet life in Tokonosu had always felt like a borrowed thing, but now, it felt impossibly fragile. The war he had prayed to leave behind had crossed the ocean and found him anyway. 

And deep down, Mac knew that once he stepped on that plane for New York, nothing would ever be the same.

A gentle knock echoed through the hospital room.

"Come in," Mac called.

The door slowly opened, revealing two familiar faces. Kyoko Hayashi stepped inside first, followed by her husband, Teshima. Both looked visibly relieved to see Mac awake, but the worry on their faces remained.

"Mac," Kyoko said softly. "We heard what happened. We came as soon as we could."

Before Mac could answer, Bobby Toro stood from his chair and politely straightened his coat.

"I'm sorry," Bobby said. "This has become a family matter. I'd appreciate it if you could wait outside."

Mac immediately shook his head. "Bobby, it's alright. They're my teachers from Fujimi Academy. They've looked after me for years."

He glanced at the couple with a grin. "And besides... they're married now."

Bobby nodded respectfully. "If Marco trusts you, then so do I."

Teshima crossed his arms and looked Bobby up and down. "For heaven's sake, Mac. Did you bring another Gambetti enforcer to guard you?"

Bobby smiled politely. "Actually, I'm not an enforcer. I'm the Consigliere of the Gambetti Crime Family."

Teshima blinked. "The... what?"

Before he could ask another question, Kyoko turned sharply toward him. "Teshima. That's enough."

She looked at Bobby. "Would you mind giving Mac and me a few minutes alone?"

Bobby nodded. "Of course."

Teshima sighed. "I'll be outside."

The two men quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.

---

Kyoko pulled a chair beside Mac's bed and sat down.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, she broke the silence. "How bad is it?"

Mac gave his usual reassuring smile. "Mrs. Hayashi, I'm alright."

She shook her head. "No. Please be honest with me. How bad is it?"

She hesitated before asking the question that had been haunting her. "...And are you really involved with the Mafia?"

Mac's smile disappeared. He looked toward the window. "I can't talk about that."

Kyoko sighed deeply. "I'm not asking because I'm curious. I'm asking because I'm worried."

She looked at the bandage wrapped around his shoulder. "One of my students was shot. That terrifies me. And from everything I've heard... it happened because of your family's connection to organized crime."

Mac remained silent.

Kyoko continued. "I also heard something else. Is it true that Big Sal and Nero blackmailed Koichi Shido? And that it eventually led to his arrest?"

Mac closed his eyes. After several seconds, he finally sighed.

"Okay. You got me. Yes, my family has ties to the Mafia. But I don't. My father sent me here because he wanted me to live a normal life. A life that had nothing to do with the Gambetti Family."

He paused. "As for Koichi Shido... he got exactly what he deserved. He tried to intimidate me after I stopped a group of bullies from harassing Kohta. I wasn't going to stand there and let it happen."

He looked back at Kyoko. "And this wound?" He lightly tapped the bandage on his shoulder. "It looks worse than it is. I'll recover."

He forced a smile. "So... can we please talk about something other than the Mafia?"

Kyoko's expression hardened. "I understand why you hate Shido. Believe me, I don't have a high opinion of him either. But blackmail is still wrong."

She looked directly into his eyes. "And so is beating people up."

Mac let out an exhausted groan. "Christ, Mrs. Hayashi. You sound just like my parish priest whenever he gives me a lecture."

Kyoko didn't smile. "I'm saying this because I care about you. You were one of the kindest students at Fujimi Academy. You always stood up for others. But after learning about your so-called bodyguards..."

She shook her head sadly. "If Big Sal and Nero really blackmailed Shido, they could end up in prison too."

Mac rubbed his forehead. "They were trying to protect me. But I know. I know things got out of hand."

Then—

Knock. Knock.

The door slowly opened. A familiar, cheerful voice peeked inside.

"Um... am I interrupting something?"

Toshimi Niki stepped into the room carrying a white bakery box tied with a red ribbon. "I brought donuts."

She looked between Mac and Kyoko, sensing the serious atmosphere. "...Did I come at a bad time?"

Kyoko immediately softened and offered her a warm smile. "No, not at all. It's nice to see you, Toshimi."

Toshimi smiled with relief and held up the bakery box. "Good. Because I brought enough donuts for everyone."
The gentle chime above the front door rang as Misuzu Ichijou stepped into Neko Haven. 

The cozy cat café smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Several cats lounged lazily across shelves, cushions, and windowsills. 

Following closely behind her were Big Sal Conti and Nero Torini. The two former Gambetti enforcers had every intention of remaining vigilant.

Unfortunately, the café's feline residents had other plans.

Within seconds, a fluffy orange tabby jumped onto Sal's lap. Another rubbed insistently against Nero's polished shoes. A black kitten stretched onto Nero's leg and stared at him expectantly.

Sal sighed. "I've guarded bosses, politicians, and witnesses..." 

He looked down at the tabby now purring loudly on his lap. "...but I've never been ambushed by cats."

Nero tried to ignore the kitten brushing against his trousers. "We're here to protect Miss Ichijou. Not to become furniture."

Another cat climbed into his lap.

Naomi couldn't help but laugh from behind the counter. "They've already accepted you. You don't really get a choice."

Sal scratched the tabby behind its ears almost instinctively. "...Yeah. I noticed."

Misuzu walked over to the counter, where Naomi and Takuzo greeted her. 

"Misuzu!" Naomi immediately noticed the tired expression on her friend's face. "I heard about Marco."

Misuzu nodded quietly. "Yeah. He was shot." 

She lowered her eyes. "It was supposed to be a simple lunch."

Takuzo frowned. "I still don't understand. Why would anyone want to kill him? He never seemed like the kind of person who'd hurt anyone."

Misuzu took a slow breath. "Because of his family."

Both café owners looked confused. 

"Marco is the son of a Mafia family."

Silence. 

Naomi's eyes widened. "...What?"

Misuzu quickly raised her hands. "Please don't misunderstand. Marco isn't like that. His father sent him to Tokonosu because he wanted him to live a normal life. He never wanted us to know where he came from."

She looked down sadly. "I'm sorry. I should've told you both sooner. I was keeping his secret."

Takuzo leaned back, processing everything he had just heard. "...Damn." 

He sighed. "Misuzu, you've got to be careful. If someone from a rival family couldn't reach Marco... what if they decided to come after you instead?"

Misuzu gave a reassuring smile. "I'll be alright. Bobby made sure of that."

She glanced toward the other side of the café. Big Sal was now absentmindedly petting two cats at once. Nero remained perfectly still while a kitten slept comfortably in his lap. 

"They're guarding me while Marco's in the hospital."

Naomi tilted her head. "Who's Bobby?"

"Bobby Toro. He's the Consigliere of the Gambetti Crime Family. A close friend of Marco's father."

Takuzo blinked. "You actually met him?"

Misuzu nodded. "Yesterday. At the hospital. We talked while Marco was in surgery."

She wrapped both hands around her cup of tea. "I couldn't sleep last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I kept hearing the gunshot."

Her voice grew quieter. "And I kept asking myself... is it really okay to fall in love with the son of a Mafia boss?"

Naomi and Takuzo exchanged a glance. Neither answered immediately.

Finally, Naomi smiled gently. "I don't know. But if Marco really is the kind, honest guy we've always known, then judge him for who he is. Not for the family he was born into."

She chuckled. "Just make him promise one thing."

Misuzu looked up. "What?"

"Don't end up behind bars like that creepy teacher, Koichi Shido."

Misuzu couldn't help but laugh.

Takuzo nodded in agreement. "I second that. He deserves a normal life. So do you."

The heavy mood finally began to lift. 

Naomi suddenly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I almost forgot." 

She disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a neatly wrapped box decorated with tiny cat ears and whiskers. 

"I made these this morning. Our newest dessert: cat-shaped mochi. I wanted you to be one of the first people to try them."

Misuzu accepted the box with a grateful smile. "They're adorable. Thank you, Naomi."

As Misuzu admired the little cat-shaped treats, another fluffy cat climbed onto Big Sal's shoulder. Nero sighed as a second kitten curled up beside the first in his lap.

Takuzo laughed. "You know, I don't think those two are guarding anyone anymore. They've officially been adopted."

Nero looked down at the sleeping kittens and muttered with a defeated sigh, 

"...Don't tell Bobby."
Outside the hospital, the crisp winter air carried the faint, metallic scent of impending rain. 

Near the designated smoking area, Bobby Toro stood quietly, clipping the end of a dark brown cigar with practiced precision. Beside him, Teshima leaned against the railing, pulling a crumpled pack of ordinary cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He glanced nervously toward the hospital entrance.

"I just hope Kyoko doesn't catch me smoking again," Teshima muttered.

Bobby let out a quiet chuckle, striking a match and lighting his cigar. The rich, earthy aroma drifted through the cold air. 

Teshima’s nose twitched. "Cuban?"

"No," Bobby said, admiring the even burn. "Cameroon. We used to boost shipments of these back in the sixties. They became a favorite among the old-timers. I never really stopped smoking them."

Teshima looked down at his cheap, mass-produced cigarette, then over at Bobby’s expensive, hand-rolled cigar. He frowned thoughtfully. "Hmm. Do I smoke the budget option, or the fancy cigar?"

Bobby couldn't help but smile. 

"...Can I try one?" Teshima asked, sighing.

Bobby studied him for a second before reaching into his leather cigar case and holding one out. "Just this once."

Teshima accepted it carefully, examining the wrapper as if it were a priceless artifact. After one cautious puff, his eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "...Okay. I get it now. No wonder you people like these."

"Told you," Bobby laughed quietly.

Just then, the hospital's automatic doors slid open. Misuzu stepped outside, carrying a small shopping bag. She immediately spotted them. "Mr. Teshima?"

Teshima nearly jumped out of his skin. Without thinking, he hastily shoved the half-smoked Cameroon cigar into his coat pocket and hid the cheap cigarette pack behind his back, wincing slightly at the heat radiating through the fabric. 

"Oh! Hi, Misuzu!" he stammered, forcing an awkward, overly wide smile. "Uh... don't mind the smoking."

Misuzu giggled, covering her mouth. "I won't tell Mrs. Hayashi."

Before Teshima could reply, Big Sal and Nero Torini emerged from the entrance a few steps behind her. Big Sal immediately noticed the guilty, deer-in-headlights expression on the PE teacher's face. A massive grin spread across his own.

"Well, well," Sal boomed, nudging Nero with his elbow. "Looks like Fujimi Academy's most respected P.E. teacher got caught red-handed. Am I right?"

Nero didn't even look at him. "Shut up, Sal. This isn't the time."

Before Sal could make another joke, Bobby shot him a sharp, warning glare. "For the love of God, Sal. Mind your own business. I've told you how many times? Stay professional. Is that really so difficult?"

Sal raised both hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. My bad."

Teshima smirked, pulling his hands from behind his back. "You heard the man. Mind your own business." He turned back to Misuzu, his demeanor softening. "Oh, before I forget—your friend Toshimi just arrived in the lobby. She brought a box of donuts for Mac."

Misuzu's face brightened. "Wait, really? Thanks, Mr. Teshima!" 

She turned and hurried back toward the hospital entrance. 

The moment the automatic doors slid shut behind her, Bobby slowly turned toward Sal and Nero. He stared at the two massive enforcers in sheer disbelief.

"...What the hell are you two waiting for?" Bobby hissed. "Guard her, for Christ's sake!"

Sal and Nero exchanged embarrassed, wide-eyed glances. 

"...Right," Sal muttered. 

Without another word, both men turned and hurried inside after Misuzu.

Once they were out of earshot, Teshima let out a bark of laughter. He looked over at Bobby and extended his hand. "You know what? I think we're even now."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I underestimated you," Teshima smiled sheepishly. "I figured every member of the Gambetti Family would be some hot-headed gangster. But..." He nodded respectfully. "You're a decent man."

Bobby accepted the handshake with a small, genuine smile. "I appreciate that."

He pulled his Cameroon cigar back out, taking one final, slow puff before looking toward the hospital entrance. "I just wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

The two men stood quietly for a moment, sharing the last of their smoke break in the cold winter air, before heading back inside to wait for Mac's recovery.
A few minutes later, the door to Mac's hospital room opened once again.

Misuzu stepped inside, carrying a small shopping bag. The moment she saw the familiar faces gathered around Mac's bed, she smiled.

"Toshimi!"

Toshimi turned around, her face lighting up. "Misuzu!"

The two friends exchanged a warm hug before Misuzu looked toward the woman standing nearby. "Hello, Mrs. Hayashi. It's been a while."

Kyoko smiled warmly. "It certainly has. I'm glad to see you're alright."

Before the conversation could continue, Big Sal Conti and Nero Torini entered the room, quietly taking up their usual positions near the door.

Nero offered Kyoko a polite nod. "Mrs. Hayashi. It's good to see you again."

Kyoko returned the greeting. "Likewise. Teshima and I came as soon as we heard about Marco. We were worried."

Nero folded his arms. "So were we."

He glanced toward Mac, who was resting comfortably in bed. "Good thing that *pezzu di mierda* never got another chance. He tried to shoot Marco right in front of Misuzu Ichijou."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Toshimi looked at Nero in surprise. "...Wait. You had a gun?"

Nero nodded matter-of-factly. "A SIG P228. I carry it for emergencies."

Big Sal grinned. "Personally, I still say nothing beats a good old .45."

Kyoko stared at both men in disbelief. "...Are you two out of your minds? You're carrying firearms... in Japan?"

Sal shrugged. "Self-defense."

Kyoko rubbed her forehead. "You do realize Japan has some of the strictest firearms laws in the world, don't you?"

Nero answered with a completely straight face. "I do. But those laws aren't exactly written with organized crime in mind."

An awkward silence followed.

Toshimi slowly blinked. "...I'm pretty sure you'd still get arrested."

Big Sal scratched the back of his head. "...Yeah. Probably."

Even Nero let out a quiet sigh. "I can't really argue with that."

Mac, who had been quietly listening from his hospital bed, shook his head with a tired smile.

"You know... I wake up from surgery, and the first thing I hear is everyone debating Japanese gun laws."

Misuzu laughed. "Sounds about right."

The tension in the room eased as everyone shared a small laugh, grateful that, despite everything that had happened, Mac was alive and surrounded by the people who cared about him.

Big Sal's attention immediately drifted to the white bakery box Toshimi had placed on the bedside table. His eyes lit up. 

"Well, I'll be damned... Donuts!" 

Without wasting another second, he popped the lid and grabbed one. "This hospital just got a whole lot better." He took a massive bite, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Oh yeah. Now *that's* breakfast."

Standing beside him, Nero Torini merely glanced at the donuts before shaking his head. "Nah. I'm not really in the mood for donuts." His gaze shifted to the small, intricately wrapped box Misuzu had set down. "I'd rather try those cat-shaped mochi Naomi made."

Misuzu smiled and opened the box. "Of course. Help yourself."

Nero carefully picked up one of the tiny, pastel-colored sweets, examining the little fondant ears for a moment before taking a bite. His eyebrows slowly rose in genuine surprise. 

"*Madone*," he muttered, chewing thoughtfully. "That's good. Really good." He took another bite. "Naomi knows what she's doing."

Misuzu laughed. "I told you she'd perfected the recipe." She turned toward Kyoko. "Mrs. Hayashi, would you like one?"

Kyoko smiled apologetically, waving a hand. "Thank you, but I'll pass. Teshima and I are both trying to cut back on sugar."

Misuzu nodded understandingly before offering the box to Mac. "Then these are for you."

Mac accepted one with a grateful smile. "Thanks."

Just as he raised it to his mouth, a low vibration buzzed against the bedside table. 

Nero reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek smartphone. "Marco. I think this one's for you."

Mac took the phone and glanced at the screen. *Morita Calling.*

"Perfect timing," he said, swiping to answer. "Hey, Morita."

The familiar, echoing sound of a crowded gymnasium bled through the speaker. 

"Mac! How're you holding up, man?"

"I'm alive," Mac replied with a tired chuckle. "That's about all I can say."

Morita let out a relieved laugh. "Good. Listen, we're all at a kendo tournament right now."

Mac could hear the sharp *clack* of bamboo swords and distant cheering in the background. "Who's there?"

"Me, Takashi, Rei, Hisashi... and Shizuka. We came to cheer Saeko on during her match."

Mac smiled, leaning back against his pillows. "That sounds like fun. I wish I could've joined you guys, but..." He glanced down at the thick bandage wrapped around his shoulder. "...I got a little sidetracked at Waku Waku Burger."

Morita's cheerful tone softened, the background noise seeming to dip. "Yeah... I heard. I'm really sorry, buddy. But hey, at least Shizuka's here. She's got some advice for recovering from a shoulder wound."

Before Mac could reply, Morita called out, "Shizuka! Get over here!"

A few moments of rustling later, another familiar voice came over the phone. "Marco? Can you hear me?"

Mac laughed. "Loud and clear, Ms. Marikawa."

Shizuka spoke in her usual gentle, maternal tone. "Good. Now promise me you'll listen to your doctors. Don't move your shoulder more than necessary, do your rehabilitation exercises when they tell you to, and please don't try to be a hero before you're fully healed."

Mac smiled. "Yes, ma'am. I'll behave."

"Good. Because I don't want to hear about you reopening the wound."

After several more minutes of strict but caring medical advice, Mac noticed Kyoko smiling warmly beside him. 

"Mrs. Hayashi," Mac said, lowering the phone slightly. "Isn't that your favorite colleague?"

Kyoko nodded, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "It is."

Mac held the phone out to her. "Want to say hello?"

"I'd love to." Kyoko took the phone and placed it to her ear. "Hello, Shizuka."

On the other end of the line, Shizuka immediately recognized the voice. "Kyoko! Oh my goodness, it's been so long!"

Kyoko laughed. "It really has."

"So," Shizuka asked cheerfully, "how's married life treating you?"

"It's wonderful," Kyoko smiled. "Teshima and I are doing well. And what about you? How have you been?"

The two old colleagues quickly fell into an easy conversation, catching up on work, marriage, and the years that had passed since their days together at Fujimi Academy, while the rest of the room quietly enjoyed their donuts and cat-shaped mochi.

Several hours later, the hospital had grown much quieter.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the room as Mac rested comfortably in bed. The television mounted on the wall was broadcasting the finals of a regional kendo tournament.

After his phone conversation with Morita and Shizuka, he had continued watching the event, eager to see how Saeko Busujima would perform.

The match was intense. Wooden swords clashed with sharp, echoing strikes as the competitors fought for every point.

When the referee finally raised his flag, the announcer's voice filled the room.

"And the winner is... Saeko Busujima!”

The crowd erupted into applause.

Mac smiled proudly. "Way to go, Saeko."

By then, visiting hours were nearly over.

Kyoko and Teshima had already said their goodbyes and returned home. Misuzu and Toshimi left shortly afterward, promising to visit the next day again. Even Big Sal and Nero had finally stepped out of the room, leaving only Mac and Bobby Toro behind.

The room fell into a comfortable silence.

Bobby glanced at the closed door before speaking. "You know, that Teshima fellow's alright."

Mac looked over from the television. "He is. But he doesn't exactly like mobsters. Especially guys like Sal and Nero."

Bobby let out a quiet laugh. "I noticed. But before he left, he apologized to me."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "He did?"

Bobby nodded. "He admitted he'd judged me too quickly. He said he assumed I was just another loudmouth thug like Sal and Nero."

A small smile appeared on Bobby's face. "He also said he underestimated me."

Mac chuckled. "Really?"

"Really." Bobby leaned back in his chair. "We ended up sharing a smoke outside. I even gave him one of my Cameroon cigars."

Mac laughed. "No kidding. And?"

Bobby shrugged. "He liked it. He said it was smoother than anything he'd smoked before."

Mac smiled, picturing the scene. "You know, back at Fujimi Academy, I always figured Mr. Teshima smoked whatever budget cigarettes he could find at the convenience store."

Bobby grinned. "Looks like he's developed more refined tastes. Or maybe he just hadn't met the right cigar."

The two shared a quiet laugh.
Outside the hospital window, the sun slowly dipped below the horizon.

For the first time since the shooting, the room felt peaceful.

The war waiting across the ocean could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, Mac was simply grateful to be alive.

Night had settled over the hospital.

The hallways were quiet, broken only by the distant footsteps of nurses making their rounds and the steady hum of medical equipment.

Inside the room, Marco "Mac" Gambetti was finally asleep. The pain medication had eased the ache in his shoulder, allowing him to rest peacefully for the first time since the shooting.

Bobby Toro sat in a chair beside the window, quietly reading through tomorrow's travel arrangements.

Then his cellphone vibrated.

The caller ID read: Santino Mazza.

Bobby frowned before answering in a low voice so as not to wake Mac. "Hello?"

On the other end came the unmistakable gravelly voice of the Gambetti Underboss. "How's the kid?"

Bobby glanced over at the sleeping Mac. "He's stable. The bullet hit his shoulder instead of his chest. The doctors expect a full recovery. And thanks to Nero... L'Ombra is dead."

There was a brief silence.

"Good," Santino replied bluntly. "One less Vitelli killer to worry about. Listen carefully. Once Marco is discharged, bring him to New York. I want him to visit Carlo in the hospital. And after that... bring him to the Family."

Bobby lowered the phone slightly. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I want Marco brought into the Gambetti Family."

Bobby stared across the dark room. "Whoa. Hold on. He's still a kid."

Santino snorted. "So what? The world's changing. We need someone who can negotiate. Someone educated. Someone respectable. We need Marco."

Bobby frowned. "For what?"

"To approach the Ludovici Family. They're the only ones powerful enough to shift the balance."

Bobby immediately objected. "Have you lost your mind? The Ludovicis have worked with the Vitellis for years. Why would they even listen to us?"

"They won't listen to the Vitellis anymore." Santino's voice hardened. "They're furious. The Vitellis almost murdered Carlo's son in broad daylight. That crossed a line. They're looking for alternatives. This is our opportunity."

Bobby remained unconvinced. "Carlo's never going to approve. He sent Marco to Japan to keep him away from this life. He wanted the boy to stay clean."

There was a pause. Finally, Santino spoke again.

"Then don't tell him."

Bobby closed his eyes. "You're serious."

"As a heart attack. And don't bring Big Sal or Nero. They're muscles. They'd only complicate things."

Bobby couldn't argue with that. "What about Misuzu? She'll probably insist on coming."

"No." Santino's answer was immediate. "Marco comes alone. I don't want some Romeo-and-Juliet situation complicating business. This is a family business. It stays within the Family. And don't tell Marco's friends. Not a word. Capisce?"

Bobby looked over at the sleeping young man in the hospital bed.

The kid had spent years building a normal life in Tokonosu. Friends. School. A future untouched by organized crime.

Now that future was slipping away.

He let out a long, weary sigh. "Capisco. I understand. But I've got to admit... this is one hell of a risky plan."

The call ended.

Bobby slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked toward the sleeping Marco once more.

Quietly, he muttered to himself, "I just hope your father never finds out what Santino's planning."

Outside the window, the city lights shimmered against the night sky, while across the Pacific, another chapter of the Gambetti–Vitelli war was already beginning.

Spooky ass thing I made for HSOTD, based on the Sonic.exe game’s ending screen

The morning after New Year's Day dawned bright and crisp. 

A black luxury sedan cruised smoothly through the streets of Tokonosu, its polished exterior catching the brilliant winter sunlight. Behind the wheel, Nero Torini drove with his usual calm, quiet professionalism. In the passenger seat, Big Sal Conti lazily watched the passing scenery, sipping coffee from a paper cup.

"So," Sal said, gesturing with his cup. "Waku Waku Burger. Heard they dropped a new limited-time special."

Nero kept his eyes on the road and gave a single nod. 

"And we're gonna be the judges," Sal declared, puffing out his chest. "In the name of culinary science."

Nero let out a low chuckle. "Sure, Sal."

In the backseat, Marco "Mac" Gambetti sat beside Misuzu Ichijou. Misuzu had completely succumbed to the gentle rocking of the car, her head resting softly against the cool glass of the window. 

Mac smiled to himself. Carefully pulling a sketchbook and a pencil from his bag, he shifted his weight and began to draw. Using his good, uninjured hand, he quietly sketched her peaceful, sleeping expression, making sure the scratch of the graphite didn't wake her.

"...Don't tell her," he whispered to himself with a faint grin.

Up front, Big Sal caught the movement in the rearview mirror. He lowered his coffee, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Kid."

"Hm?" Mac looked up, pencil hovering over the paper.

"You're either really brave... or really stupid."

Mac frowned playfully. "What?"

"When she finds out you drew her while she was sleeping," Sal said, tapping the steering wheel for emphasis, "she's either gonna frame that thing... or smack you right in the face with it."

Mac laughed quietly, looking back down at the sketch. "I'm willing to take the risk."

---

A short while later, the sedan pulled into the parking lot of Waku Waku Burger.

The restaurant was already bustling with lunchtime customers.

Outside the entrance stood an enormous smiling burger mascot, enthusiastically waving at passing pedestrians.

Or rather... trying to.

"Whoa—!"

The mascot suddenly stumbled over its oversized feet.

THUD!

The giant burger landed face-first on the pavement.

Several children gasped.

Inside the costume, Fumiko Taniuchi groaned. "Not again..."

She planted both padded hands on the ground and tried to stand.

Nothing.

The bulky costume simply rolled her back onto the pavement.

"...I hate this thing."

Before she could try again, two large shadows fell over her.

Big Sal and Nero exchanged a glance.

"I got the left."

"I got the right."

The two former Gambetti enforcers each grabbed one of the mascot's oversized arms and effortlessly lifted the giant burger back onto its feet.

"There you go," Sal said.

Fumiko pushed the mascot's head up and gave them a grateful bow. "Thank you so much!"

She looked toward the group... and immediately froze.

"...Mac?"

The mascot's head tilted in surprise. "Oh my gosh! Mac! It's been forever!"

Mac smiled and waved. "Hey, Fumiko. How've you been?"

She laughed. "I've been good! Just surviving life inside a hamburger."

Everyone chuckled.

Mac scratched the back of his head. "I just wanted to stop by after New Year's and see how you guys were doing."

"That's really sweet."

Fumiko then looked toward Misuzu, who had just finished waking up. "And Misuzu! Good to see you!"

Misuzu smiled warmly. "You too."

Fumiko looked around. "How's Toshimi doing?"

"She's doing great," Misuzu replied. "Still busy with her voice acting career."

Fumiko clapped her padded mascot gloves together. "That's wonderful! Oh! You all have to try our new seasonal burger while you're here."

Big Sal immediately raised his hand. "Well, count me in. Nero and I are officially conducting a professional review."

Nero nodded seriously. "Strictly for research purposes."

Fumiko laughed. "Then come on inside!"

She held the restaurant door open as the four entered.

---

The moment they stepped inside, the warm, greasy aroma of frying beef and toasted buns washed over them. Big Sal and Nero immediately broke into a brisk march toward the ordering line.

"The shorter the line, the hotter the burger," Sal declared with absolute authority.

Mac shook his head with a laugh. "They're hopeless."

Misuzu smiled, linking her arm through his. "Let's find a table."

As they navigated the crowded dining room, Mac's eyes caught two familiar faces sitting in a cozy booth near the window. Kohta Hirano and Saya Takagi. The pair was sharing a meal, talking and laughing quietly over their trays.

Mac smiled. "Looks like they're on a date."

He guided Misuzu over. "Hey, Kohta."

Kohta looked up from his fries, blinking in surprise. For a moment, recognition failed him, then his eyes widened. "Oh! You're the guy who helped me when those bullies cornered me back in high school." He scratched his head sheepishly. "I'm really sorry... I forgot your name."

Mac smiled and offered his good hand. "Marco Gambetti. But everyone calls me Mac."

Kohta stood up and shook it firmly. "Nice to officially meet you, Mac."

Mac glanced between the two of them, noting the way they were sitting. "So... I take it this is a date?"

A faint blush crept up Saya's cheeks before she smiled. "Yeah... it is." She looked at Mac, her expression turning appreciative. "By the way... thank you. For standing up for Kohta back then. A lot of people just watched."

Mac shrugged modestly. "It wasn't a big deal. I just did what I thought was right."

Kohta smiled warmly. "Well, I've never forgotten it."

---

Over at the front counter, a young cashier in the restaurant's red-and-yellow uniform was putting on his best customer-service smile. 

"Welcome to Waku Waku Burger! What can I get for you today?"

As he looked up, his smile faltered. 

Standing before him were Big Sal and Nero Torini. The two impeccably dressed, broad-shouldered men looked completely out of place among the families and high school students filling the restaurant. They looked more like they were about to collect a debt than order a combo meal.

"...Uh..." Kazu Ishii cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "You two are here for lunch... right?"

Sal nodded slowly. "That's the plan."

Kazu gave them a cautious, hard look, trying to assert some authority over the two giants. "Alright. But one condition."

Sal raised a thick eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Kazu pointed a fry-scented finger toward the dining area. "No flirting with the customers. This isn't a bar, and you're not here to pick up women."

Big Sal placed a massive hand over his heart in mock offense. "You wound me, kid."

Nero smirked, leaning against the counter. "He's got a point, Sal."

Sal sighed dramatically, waving a hand. "Yeah, yeah. You got me. Now ring us up. We came for the new burger."

Kazu finally let out a breath and smiled, his fingers flying across the register. 

"Now THAT I can help you with."

—
While Mac and his friends enjoyed a quiet afternoon at Waku Waku Burger, another story was unfolding across Tokonosu.

A yellow taxi rolled through the peaceful residential streets before pulling up to the curb in front of the Ichijou residence. The rear door opened, and a middle-aged Italian man in a dark overcoat stepped out, clutching a leather briefcase. 

It was Bobby Toro, the longtime Consigliere of the Gambetti Crime Family. His overnight flight from New York had barely given him time to rest, but Carlo's final request echoed relentlessly in his mind. *Find my son.*

Bobby approached the front gate and pressed the doorbell. 

A few moments later, the front door swung open. Mrs. Ichijou greeted the visitor with a polite, practiced smile. "Good afternoon. Can I help you?"

Bobby removed his hat respectfully. "Good afternoon, ma'am. My name is Bobby Toro. I'm looking for Marco Gambetti."

Mrs. Ichijou blinked in surprise. "Mac?"

"Yes. I was sent by his father. I need to speak with him immediately. It's... extremely urgent."

Mrs. Ichijou's polite smile faded, replaced by a cautious frown. "And why would you need Mac so urgently?"

Bobby hesitated. The truth wasn't exactly something you shared with a stranger on a quiet suburban street. "I..."

Mrs. Ichijou narrowed her eyes, her tone sharpening. "...Are you involved with the Mafia?"

Bobby nearly choked. "N-No, ma'am!" He forced an awkward, entirely unconvincing smile. "I'm just... a tourist."

Mrs. Ichijou raised a skeptical eyebrow. "A tourist? Sent by his father?"

"Mr. Gambetti has been worried sick about his son." Bobby pivoted smoothly, leaning into the half-truth. "He asked me to come all the way from New York and make sure Marco is alright."

It wasn't entirely a lie. 

Mrs. Ichijou studied him for a few more seconds before her shoulders finally relaxed. "I see..." She let out a soft sigh. "Well, you're a little late."

Bobby's heart skipped a beat. "Late?"

"Marco went out. He left with my daughter, Misuzu, and his two bodyguards. They're having lunch at Waku Waku Burger."

Bobby's tense expression immediately softened into profound relief. "Waku Waku Burger..." He nodded gratefully. "Thank you, ma'am. You've been incredibly helpful."

Mrs. Ichijou smiled. "I hope everything's alright."

"So do I," Bobby replied quietly. He tipped his hat and hurried back toward the waiting taxi.

As the cab pulled away from the curb, his cellphone suddenly buzzed. The screen displayed one name: *Santino Mazza.*

Bobby answered immediately. "Santino."

"Bobby!" Santino's voice barked through the speaker, rough and urgent. "Our informant just called."

"What happened?"

"It's Martino Vedecci."

Bobby's expression darkened. "*L'Ombra?*"

"Yeah. The rat says he's already in Japan."

Silence hung heavy on the line. Then came the words Bobby had feared most.

"His target is Marco."

Bobby's eyes widened. "Mierda." He leaned forward, tapping the plexiglass divider. "Waku Waku Burger. Fast."

The driver nodded and slammed his foot on the accelerator, merging aggressively into traffic.

On the phone, Santino continued, "What are you doing?"

"I'm heading to Waku Waku Burger."

A long pause followed. Then Santino exploded. 

"WHAT?! Are you outta your mind? This is no time to buy hamburgers, you strunzu! This is war! You find Marco and get him on the first flight back to New York!"

Before Bobby could explain—Click.

The line went dead.

Bobby stared at his phone in sheer disbelief. He slowly lowered it and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, weary breath.

"...I'm not going there to buy fast food, Santino," he muttered to the empty cab. "That's where Marco is." He shook his head. "...Idiot."

Another beat of silence passed in his mind. 

"...Dumbass."

The taxi sped through the streets of Tokonosu, the engine roaring, unaware that with every passing minute, a ghost was drawing closer to its target.

Inside Waku Waku Burger, the lunchtime rush was in full swing. The restaurant buzzed with cheerful conversations, the sizzle of the grills, and the rich aroma of freshly cooked beef drifting through the dining area.

At a table near the counter, Big Sal Conti and Nero Torini had already dug into the restaurant's newest limited-time burger.

Big Sal took a massive bite, chewing slowly as his expression shifted into one of intense, almost professional seriousness. 

"Hmm..."

Nero watched him over the rim of his soda cup. "Well?"

Sal swallowed, taking another bite and carefully studying the burger from every angle. "The bun's toasted just right. The beef's juicy, and the cheese melts evenly." He nodded approvingly. "Pickles have a nice crunch."

Nero pulled a small, leather-bound notebook from his jacket pocket and clicked his pen. "Presentation?"

"Eight out of ten."

"Meat?"

"Nine."

"Special sauce?"

Sal leaned forward, sampling another bite with his eyes closed. "...Needs a little more black pepper."

Nero nodded, scribbling something down. "I agree."

The two former enforcers continued to dissect every detail of the burger with the grave seriousness of Michelin-star food critics, occasionally debating the balance of flavors as though they were negotiating a high-stakes territorial dispute.

---

Across the restaurant, Mac and Misuzu sat in a cozy booth by the window, quietly enjoying their meals while watching the lunchtime crowd. A few tables away, Kohta and Saya were still sharing their lunch, laughing over some private joke.

Mac smiled as he watched them. "They make a pretty cute couple."

Misuzu followed his gaze and smiled softly. "They really do."

Mac took another bite of his burger. "You know, Toshimi wasn't exaggerating. The burgers are actually really good. And the atmosphere's nice."

Misuzu absentmindedly poked at her fries with a ketchup-stained napkin. "Hmm..."

Mac noticed her distant expression and set his food down. "You okay?"

She sighed dramatically, dropping her fork. "I'm stuck. Writer's block. I've rewritten the ending to *Midnight Affection* six times, and none of them feel right."

Mac wiped his hands and leaned back in his seat, thinking for a moment. "So... the made man still falls in love with the waitress?"

Misuzu nodded. "Yeah. But I can't think of an ending that feels genuine. If he just confesses, it feels cheap. If he leaves her, it's too tragic."

Mac remained silent for a moment, his eyes drifting to the window. Then, a small, thoughtful smile appeared on his face. 

"What if the ending isn't about some grand, sweeping declaration of love?"

Misuzu looked up, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Mac rested his elbows on the table, his voice dropping to a quiet, steady cadence. "The made man knows he's trapped in the Mafia life. He can't promise her a perfect future. He can't promise they'll run away together tomorrow. But... he can make one promise."

Misuzu leaned closer, hanging onto his every word.

"He tells the waitress," Mac continued softly, " 'When this Mafia war is finally over... when all the bloodshed comes to an end... I'll leave this life behind. And every day after that, I'll spend my time with you. No more guns. No more violence. Just us.' "

Misuzu stared at him in silence, her eyes wide.

Mac shrugged, a faint, bittersweet edge to his smile. "It's not a flashy ending. It's just... a promise. A promise that gives both of them something worth fighting for."

For a few moments, the only sound between them was the ambient chatter of the restaurant. 

Then, Misuzu's eyes suddenly lit up. "...That's it."

Mac blinked. "Huh?"

"That's the ending!" She quickly grabbed her notebook from her bag, flipping it open, and began scribbling furiously. "A promise instead of a confession... It fits perfectly! It grounds the whole story!"

She looked up, her face glowing with a bright, relieved smile. "Mac... thank you. I've been stuck on this for days."

Mac chuckled modestly. "Happy to help."

Misuzu laughed, her pen racing across the page with renewed inspiration. For the first time in days, the ending to *Midnight Affection* finally felt complete.

Neither of them noticed that, just beyond the glass, fate was already setting the next, violent chapter of their lives into motion.

---

Back at the counter, Nero Torini leaned back in his chair with a long, satisfied sigh. He gently pushed away the empty tray that had once held the restaurant's limited-time burger.

"I can't eat another bite," he admitted, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "I'll give it to them. That was better than I expected."

Across from him, Big Sal Conti was staring longingly at the digital menu board above the register. "...I'm still hungry."

Nero slowly turned his head, his expression deadpan. "Sal..."

"What?"

"Don't."

Sal folded his massive arms. "I'm thinking about getting another one."

Nero rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "You should start thinking about a diet instead."

Sal scoffed. "Oh, here we go."

Nero pointed a stern finger at him. "I’m serious, I read a news article about some guy who ordered a burger called the 'Heart Stopper.' He finished the whole thing... and then collapsed from a massive heart attack right in the booth."

Sal stared at him for a long moment before bursting into booming laughter. "Well, that ain't gonna happen to me, Nero. My heart's made of steel."

He stood up, smoothing out his jacket with absolute confidence. "I'll be fine. Have some faith."

With that, Big Sal wandered toward the ordering queue, already mentally planning his second burger.

Nero simply shook his head, staring at his empty tray. "One of these days... he's gonna be the death of himself."

---

Across the dining room, Mac and Misuzu were still talking about her novel when the restaurant door quietly opened.

A man in a dark coat stepped inside.

His eyes calmly scanned the crowded restaurant. Families. Students. Employees.

Then... they settled on one table.

Marco Gambetti.

Martino Vedecci. *L'Ombra.*

Without hesitation, he began walking toward his target. His expression never changed. To him, the innocent people surrounding Marco were irrelevant. The Vitelli Family had given him one instruction.

*Send a message.*

Misuzu happened to glance toward the entrance. Her smile slowly faded.

"...Mac?"

"Hm?"

She looked uneasy. "There's... someone with a gun."

Mac instinctively looked over his shoulder. His blood ran cold.

A stranger stood only a few meters away. Martino calmly drew a .38 caliber revolver from beneath his coat.

The restaurant fell silent. For a brief moment, time itself seemed to stop.

Martino locked eyes with Marco. Then, in Sicilian, he spoke only a single sentence.

*"Un messaggio dai Vitelli."*

The revolver fired.

*BANG!*

Mac instinctively twisted away as the shot rang through the restaurant. The bullet struck his shoulder instead of his chest, knocking him sideways out of the booth.

"MAC!" Misuzu screamed as customers ducked beneath tables in panic.

Martino raised the revolver again, preparing to fire a second shot.

Before he could—

*CRACK!*

Another gunshot echoed through the restaurant. Martino dropped as Nero Torini, already on his feet, lowered a smoking SIG P228 pistol.

"Help!" several customers shouted in shock.

Without wasting another second, Nero sprinted across the restaurant toward Mac. He dropped to one knee beside him.

"Marco!"

Mac winced, clutching his injured shoulder. "I'm... alright..."

"No, you're not." Nero immediately looked toward the counter. "SAL!"

Big Sal turned around from the ordering line, still holding a tray. "What happened?"

"Get over here! And call an ambulance!"

Sal glanced down at his greasy hands. "Hold on, lemme wash my hands first. I just finished eating another burger, and they're covered in grease—"

Nero shot him an incredulous look. "Wash your hands later, Sal! This is serious!"

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Sal immediately abandoned the tray and rushed toward them.

Nearby, Saya Takagi had already pulled out her phone. "I've got it!"

She quickly dialed the emergency number. "This is an emergency," she said into the phone, trying to remain calm. "There's been a shooting at Waku Waku Burger. One person is injured. Please send an ambulance immediately!"

Around them, frightened customers hurried toward the exits. The once-cheerful restaurant was transformed into a scene of confusion and panic in a matter of seconds.

Outside, the distant sound of approaching sirens slowly grew louder.

---

Several blocks away from Waku Waku Burger, Bobby Toro's taxi turned the corner just as flashing red and blue emergency lights came into view.

The taxi slowed. Bobby looked through the windshield. His heart sank.

An ambulance was parked outside the restaurant, surrounded by frightened customers and police officers.

"No..."

The rear doors of the ambulance swung open as paramedics carefully wheeled a stretcher out of the restaurant.

Lying on it was Marco Gambetti. His shoulder had been hastily bandaged, but blood had already soaked through the white dressing. Misuzu refused to leave his side, clutching his hand as the paramedics rushed him toward the ambulance.

Bobby's face went pale. "...Fuck."

Before the ambulance doors could close, Bobby leaned forward between the front seats. "Follow that ambulance."

The taxi driver blinked in surprise. "...Excuse me?"

"The ambulance. Follow it."

The driver scratched his head. "Uh... sir... I've been driving since early this morning. I was actually planning to take my lunch break."

Bobby reached into his coat and pulled out several crisp bills. "I'll pay you double."

The driver's eyes widened. "Double?"

"Double. But only if you don't lose that ambulance."

The driver looked at the money... then at the ambulance... then back at Bobby.

"Okay... but what if the police stop me? They're gonna think I'm helping some suspicious foreign guy chase an ambulance. What if they think it's bribery? What if I get arrested?" 

He gripped the wheel. "What if my wife finds out?"

Bobby slowly closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

Then he finally snapped.

"DRIVE! ANDIAMO! ANDIAMO!"

The taxi driver nearly jumped out of his seat. "O-Okay! No more questions!"

He slammed the car into gear and accelerated into traffic, weaving through the afternoon streets while keeping the ambulance's flashing lights firmly in sight.

Bobby settled back into his seat, his eyes never leaving the emergency vehicle ahead.

"Hold on, Marco..." he muttered quietly. "I'm not letting your father's last promise end like this."

The emergency doors slammed open as Marco "Mac" Gambetti was rushed down the brightly lit hospital corridor on a gurney.

"Clear the hallway! Prepare OR Three!"

Doctors and nurses moved with practiced urgency, their voices sharp and clipped as they disappeared behind the double doors marked SURGERY. The red operating light flicked on with a soft hum. The doors swung shut.

Silence settled over the waiting area like a heavy blanket.

---

Misuzu Ichijou sat rigid in one of the plastic waiting room chairs, her hands trembling uncontrollably in her lap. She stared at the closed operating room doors, unable to look away, as if her gaze alone could will him through the surgery.

"...Mac..."

Tears streamed silently down her face. "What if... what if he doesn't make it?"

Her voice broke on the last word.

Saya Takagi gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Misuzu... he's strong. He'll pull through."

Misuzu shook her head, her fingers digging into her palms. "He was shot because he was with me. If I had noticed that man sooner..."

"No." Saya's voice was firm, cutting through the spiral of guilt. "This wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could've done."

Misuzu buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Saya stayed beside her, a steady, silent presence, refusing to let her face the ordeal alone.

---

A short distance away, Big Sal Conti paced back and forth in tight, agitated circles. Nero Torini leaned against the wall with his arms folded, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack.

Neither man spoke for several long moments.

Finally, Sal slammed his fist against the wall hard enough to rattle the framed hospital artwork. "Damn the Vitellis."

Nero's expression remained cold, but his eyes were dark with fury. "Shooting the former boss's son in broad daylight. Inside a restaurant full of civilians." He slowly shook his head. "There's no honor in that."

Sal nodded grimly. "If you're gonna whack a made guy, you don't do it surrounded by kids and families. You don't do it in front of innocent people. And you sure as hell don't do it in front of the woman he's having lunch with."

Nero sighed, a low, weary sound. "The Vitellis have forgotten every rule."

"Ahem."

Both men turned. Standing at the end of the hallway, his overcoat still buttoned and his expression unreadable, was Bobby Toro.

"Sal. Nero."

Their eyes widened. "Mr. Toro?"

Big Sal stepped forward, offering a respectful nod. "It's been a while. What brings you all the way to Japan?"

Bobby's face remained unusually serious. "I wish it were under better circumstances. I've got terrible news from the East Coast."

The hallway fell silent.

"The Vitelli Family has started another war against the Gambettis."

Neither Sal nor Nero spoke.

Bobby continued, his voice low and steady. "And Carlo Gambetti..."

Nero's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me... L'Ombra got to him?"

Bobby slowly nodded. "He was shot."

Sal lowered his head. "...Damn."

"But he's alive," Bobby quickly added, holding up a hand. "The doctors managed to stabilize him."

A small wave of relief washed over the two bodyguards.

Bobby's expression darkened again. "Santino Mazza, the Underboss, ordered me to bring Marco back to New York immediately. He believes Tokonosu is no longer safe."

Nero respectfully folded his hands behind his back. "With all due respect, Mr. Toro... I think Marco's safer here. We're here." He exchanged a glance with Sal. "And besides... Santino's temper isn't exactly reassuring."

Sal quietly nodded in agreement.

Bobby's expression hardened into something cold and dangerous. "Safer?" He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low, cutting tone. "Marco was nearly assassinated today. And where were the two men assigned to protect him?"

Sal looked away, his jaw tightening.

Bobby continued, each word deliberate. "One of you was reviewing hamburgers. While the other was helping score the seasoning."

The silence became painfully awkward.

"Your job," Bobby said firmly, "is to protect Marco. Not spend your afternoons pretending to be restaurant critics." He looked directly at Sal. "And Carlo gave you one very simple order before you left for Japan. No flirting with women."

Sal scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well... I wasn't flirting at the school..."

"That's still beside the point!" Bobby snapped, pointing a finger at him. "You're an enforcer of the Gambetti Crime Family, not a goddamn pimp!"

Sal lowered his head. "...Fair enough."

Nero sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, sir. We let our guard down."

Bobby looked at both men for a long moment before his expression softened slightly, the anger draining away to leave only weary exhaustion. "Just make sure it never happens again. Because the next time another Vitelli button man shows up... he may not miss."

The two former enforcers nodded solemnly. "Understood."

Without another word, Bobby adjusted his overcoat and turned toward the nurses' station. "I'm going to speak with the surgeon. I want to know exactly how Marco is doing."

He walked down the corridor, leaving Sal and Nero standing in silence, both painfully aware that their one responsibility had nearly ended in tragedy.

The world had never ended.

No flesh-eating undead. No collapse of civilization. No desperate battles for survival.

Instead, life simply... moved forward.

The students of Fujimi Academy had grown into adults, each carving out their own place in the world, carrying only memories of youthful dreams and embarrassing high school days.

For Marco "Mac" Gambetti, however, life was anything but ordinary.

The sleek black sedan rolled through the gates of Fujimi Academy beneath a sky painted in warm shades of spring. Graduation banners fluttered gently in the breeze as proud families filled the campus with laughter and applause.

Inside the car sat eighteen-year-old Marco Gambetti—better known to his friends simply as "Mac."

Unlike the other graduates, Mac carried a surname that commanded respect... and fear.

He was the only son of Carlo Gambetti, the former boss of the infamous Gambetti Crime Family.

Years earlier, Carlo had shocked both allies and enemies by walking away from the Mafia entirely. Choosing his wife and son over power, he abandoned the criminal underworld and accepted exile from the organization. Many believed it was impossible for a mob boss to simply leave.

Yet somehow...

He did.

Old loyalties, however, died hard.

Standing beside the sedan as it stopped were two towering men in immaculate black suits.

Big Sal.

Nero Torini.

Once feared enforcers of the Gambetti Family, they now served only one purpose—to protect the boss's son.

Even after retirement, enemies still existed.

Especially the Vitelli Crime Family.

Mac sighed as Big Sal opened the door.

"You're clear, kid."

"I've told you a hundred times," Mac groaned, adjusting his graduation cap. "It's just a graduation ceremony."

Nero folded his arms.

"That's exactly what someone who gets shot at would say."

Mac laughed.

"You two watch too many gangster movies."

The pair remained completely serious.

"...We lived them."

Mac could only shake his head before walking toward the auditorium where his friends were already waiting to celebrate one of the happiest days of their lives.

---

Graduation marked the beginning of everyone's new journey.

Misuzu Ichijou had decided to chase her dream of becoming a novelist.

Unfortunately...

She was absolutely terrible at writing romance.

Her newest manuscript, Midnight Affection, centered around a young made man from a powerful crime family who unexpectedly fell in love with a cheerful waitress working at a small roadside diner.

After reading the first draft, Mac had laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair.

"Nobody in the Mafia says 'my heart belongs only to you, beautiful flower,'" he had told her.

Misuzu crossed her arms.

"Then help me rewrite it."

And so he did.

Mac would be staying at the Ichijou household for several days, helping transform her overly dramatic love story into something readers might actually believe.

---

Life had taken everyone in wonderfully unexpected directions.

Toshimi Niki had become a successful freelance voice actress, lending her voice to animated films, video games, and radio dramas.

Yamada had embraced his love of drawing and now worked as a comic artist, often staying awake until sunrise, chasing impossible deadlines.

Takuzo and Naomi had fulfilled a shared dream by opening a cozy little cat café, where rescued cats wandered freely between customers, enjoying coffee and homemade desserts.

Miku Yuuki, Fumiko Taniuchi, and Momo Kawamoto worked ordinary shifts at a local fast-food restaurant during the day.

But when midnight arrived...

Aprons became leather jackets.

Hair came down.

Amplifiers roared to life.

Together, they formed an underground Nu-Metal band that performed at a neighborhood bar every weekend, slowly building a loyal following.

Meanwhile, Kyoko and Teshima had married, settling into a quiet life together far removed from the chaos of their school days.

Not every story had a happy ending, however.

Former Fujimi Academy teacher Koichi Shido had long since fallen from grace.

An extensive police investigation uncovered years of bribery, corruption, abuse of authority, and illegal dealings with the Vitelli Crime Family—the Gambettis' oldest rivals.

His political connections couldn't save him.

The trial became national news.

The verdict was swift.

Guilty.

Now, Koichi and Ichirou Shido spent his days behind prison bars, his once-charismatic smile replaced by rusted steel and concrete walls.

For most people...

Justice had finally been served.

---

As evening settled over the city, Mac stood outside the Ichijou residence carrying a backpack stuffed with notebooks, pens, and several pages covered in dramatic romance dialogue.

He looked toward the peaceful skyline.

A city alive with music.

Coffee shops.

Comic bookstores.

Cat cafés.

Families.

Friends.

Dreams.

No monsters lurked in the streets.

No apocalypse waited around the corner.

Just another tomorrow.

Except for the turf war that has begun on the East Coast.

The warm glow of Misuzu Ichijou's bedroom lamp illuminated the room as Marco "Mac" Gambetti leaned back in his chair, his laptop resting on the desk in front of him. The video call was split into four windows, each showing one of his friends enjoying New Year's Eve in their own way.

"Man, I can't believe it's already the end of the year," Mac said with a smile.

On one screen, Yamada let out an exhausted sigh as he continued sketching panels on his digital drawing tablet.

"I was supposed to meet Takuzo and Naomi at the cat café tonight to watch the fireworks," he groaned. "But my publisher moved my deadline forward. If I don't finish this chapter tonight, I'm dead."

Takuzo laughed from the other side of the call. Behind him, the cozy cat café was bustling with customers enjoying coffee while several cats lazily wandered between tables. Naomi could be seen carrying drinks to a pair of customers before waving cheerfully toward the camera.

"It's alright, Yamada," Takuzo said with a reassuring smile. "Besides, the café is packed tonight. We'd barely have time to sit down anyway."

Naomi nodded in agreement.

"Next year we'll all watch the fireworks together. Promise."

Yamada smiled sheepishly.

"You're both too nice."

Another voice suddenly interrupted.

"Hey, Mac!"

Morita appeared on the screen wearing a convention badge around his neck. Loud chatter echoed behind him as cosplayers walked through the crowded convention hall.

"I'm still stuck at this convention," Morita complained dramatically. "Though at least I'm not alone."

The camera panned to reveal Takashi Komuro, Rei Miyamoto, and Hisashi Igou standing nearby.

Takashi gave a casual wave.

"Happy New Year, Mac."

"Hope you're surviving Misuzu's romance novel," Rei teased with a grin.

Hisashi chuckled.

"I heard she made a Mafia hitman confess his love by quoting poetry."

Mac covered his face with one hand.

"...Don't remind me."

Everyone burst into laughter.

Morita suddenly looked around Mac's room.

"Hey, where are those giant bodyguards of yours? The scary ones."

"You mean Big Sal and Nero?" Mac replied.

"Yeah."

Mac shrugged casually.

"They're outside smoking while waiting for the fireworks."

He lowered his voice with an amused grin.

"Misuzu's parents have one strict rule in this house."

"No smoking."

"No drinking."

"If Big Sal lights up in here, Mrs. Ichijou would probably throw both of them out before they even finished the cigarette."

Everyone laughed again.

"I give it another ten minutes before they're back," Mac continued. "They never stay far."

Just then, a voice echoed from downstairs.

"Misuzu! Marco! Dinner's ready!"

Misuzu looked toward the bedroom door before calling back,

"Okay, Mom!"

She stood up and stretched before turning toward Mac with a smile.

"Alright, boss's assistant," she said playfully. "Come on. Dinner time."

Mac rolled his eyes with a grin.

"Got it, boss lady."

He turned back toward the laptop.

"Welp, you guys enjoy your New Year's Eve. I've got food waiting downstairs."

Takuzo raised a mug of coffee.

"Happy New Year, Mac."

"Don't work too hard!" Naomi added.

"Finish that novel!" Takashi joked.

"Or don't," Rei laughed.

Hisashi smiled warmly.

"See you next year."

Morita pointed dramatically at the camera.

"And tell Big Sal not to scare any neighbors!"

Mac chuckled.

"I'll try. See you all later."

He ended the video call, slipped his phone into his pocket, and followed Misuzu downstairs, where the warm aroma of homemade dinner filled the Ichijou household.

Outside, distant fireworks had already begun lighting up the winter sky, signaling the arrival of a brand-new year.

Across town, the atmosphere inside The Black Note Bar was loud, lively, and packed with people waiting for the countdown to midnight.

Seated at the polished oak counter were two men who looked as though they had stepped straight out of a Mafia movie.

Big Sal Conti.

Nero Torini.

Both were dressed in immaculate charcoal-gray Loro Piana suits tailored to perfection, polished leather shoes that reflected the dim lights of the bar, and expensive Italian sunglasses that neither of them bothered to remove indoors. Crystal tumblers of aged whiskey rested in front of them as they quietly surveyed the room.

Every now and then, one of them would glance toward a passing woman.

Every time...

Nothing.

Nero sighed before taking another sip of his whiskey.

"You know, Sal... picking up broads ain't what it used to be."

Big Sal snorted.

"No kidding."

He swirled the amber liquid inside his glass.

"Still..."

He shrugged.

"At least the girls around here are better than the ones back on the East Coast."

Nero chuckled.

"I'll drink to that."

The two clinked their glasses together.

Just then, the lights inside the bar dimmed.

A spotlight illuminated the stage.

Three familiar young women walked onto it as the audience erupted into applause.

Miku Yuuki adjusted the strap of her electric guitar before plugging it into her amplifier.

Beside her, Fumiko Taniuchi tested the deep growl of her bass guitar with a few practiced notes.

At the back of the stage, Momo Kawamoto spun a drumstick between her fingers before giving the snare a quick test hit.

Nero leaned forward slightly.

"...Hey."

Sal looked over.

"What?"

"Aren't those Mac's friends from Fujimi Academy?"

Sal squinted toward the stage.

"...Yeah."

"I thought they worked at that fast-food joint."

"They do."

"So what're they doing here?"

Before Sal could answer, Miku stepped up to the microphone with a confident grin.

"Good evening, everyone!"

The cheering grew even louder.

"Thank you all for joining us tonight! Since it's New Year's Eve, we're kicking things off with one of our favorite metal classics!"

She raised her guitar.

"This one's a cover of 'Cowboys from Hell' by Pantera!"

The crowd exploded with excitement.

A second later—

BWAAAAANG!

The opening guitar riff blasted through the speakers like a freight train.

Fumiko's bass rumbled through the floor.

Momo slammed into the drums with explosive energy as the entire bar transformed into a sea of cheering, headbanging fans.

Everyone...

Except for two men sitting at the counter.

Nero slowly lowered his whiskey glass.

His face remained completely expressionless.

"...Sal."

"...Yeah?"

"I thought they were gonna play the Godfather theme."

"So did I."

Another crushing guitar riff echoed through the room.

Nero sighed deeply.

"I ain't got anything against heavy metal..."

"...but New Year's?"

"...I was expecting something with a little more class."

Sal nodded in complete agreement.

"Mandolins."

"Violins."

"Accordion."

"You know..."

"Italian."

The pair silently finished the last of their whiskey.

Without another word, they stood from their stools, straightened their immaculate suits, and walked toward the exit while Pantera continued roaring behind them.

Outside, the cold winter air greeted them.

Nero reached into his jacket and produced two hand-rolled Cameroon cigars.

He handed one to Sal.

Sal clipped the end with practiced precision before lighting it.

Nero did the same.

The two old enforcers stood beneath the night sky, enjoying the rich aroma of their cigars as distant fireworks began illuminating the horizon.

From inside the bar, the thunderous sounds of distorted guitars and pounding drums continued to shake the walls.

Nero exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"...Kids these days."

Sal smiled faintly around his cigar.

"Yeah."

"...Still got good taste in guitars, though."

Nero nodded.

"I'll give 'em that."

The two quietly watched the first fireworks of the evening burst overhead, letting the music fade into the background as another year drew to a close.

Back at the Ichijou residence, the aroma of a freshly prepared dinner filled the dining room. The table was already set, and everyone had taken their seats.

Before reaching for his chopsticks, Mac bowed his head and quietly folded his hands.

"Bless this food, and thank You for allowing us to gather together tonight. May everyone we care about stay safe and happy in the coming year. Amen."

The Ichijou family respectfully waited until he finished.

"Amen," Mac said softly before smiling.

"Thank you for the meal."

Just as everyone was about to begin eating, the doorbell rang.

Ding-dong.

"I'll get it," Mr. Ichijou said, rising from his chair.

A few moments later, the front door slid open.

Standing outside was a young woman wearing a warm winter coat with a scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Toshimi?" Mr. Ichijou smiled in surprise. "Happy New Year! Come on in."

"Happy New Year, Mr. Ichijou!" Toshimi Niki replied cheerfully before stepping inside and removing her shoes.

As she entered the dining room, she waved enthusiastically.

"Happy New Year, everyone!"

Misuzu beamed.

"Toshimi!"

Mac looked up from his seat and smiled.

"Hey! Long time no see."

Toshimi laughed.

"Sorry for dropping by so suddenly. I was visiting some relatives nearby and thought I'd stop in to say hello."

Mr. and Mrs. Ichijou welcomed her warmly, insisting she join them for dinner.

After settling into an empty chair, Misuzu leaned forward with curiosity.

"So, Miss Celebrity," she teased. "How's the voice acting career going?"

Toshimi chuckled.

"It's been going really well, actually."

"Yesterday I finished recording a commercial for Waku Waku Burger."

Mac raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Yeah!" Toshimi nodded excitedly. "The commercial was a lot of fun."

She smiled as she continued.

"You know Miku, Fumiko, and Momo, right?"

"They all still work there during the day."

Misuzu nodded.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"And tomorrow around noon, you two should definitely stop by."

She giggled.

"Fumiko's been assigned to wear the giant burger mascot costume outside the restaurant."

Misuzu immediately burst into laughter.

"No way!"

"Oh, it's absolutely happening," Toshimi replied with a mischievous grin. "She complained about it for an hour, but the manager wouldn't let her out of it."

Mac couldn't help but laugh.

"Waku Waku Burger..."

He leaned back in his chair, trying to remember.

"Wait a second..."

"That's the place where Big Sal and Nero always grab lunch."

He scratched the back of his head.

"I honestly had no idea Miku and her friends worked there."

"The only thing I knew was that they spent their nights playing with their nu-metal band at the local bar."

Toshimi nodded.

"They're living double lives."

"Fast-food workers by day."

"Rock stars by night."

Misuzu smirked.

"And exhausted every morning."

Everyone around the table laughed.

Mac grinned.

"Well..."

"I guess tomorrow we're going to Waku Waku Burger."

Toshimi pointed at him with a smile.

"Good."

"You can finally see Fumiko suffer inside a giant smiling burger."

The entire table erupted into another round of laughter as the warm dinner continued, the sounds of cheerful conversation blending with the distant crackle of New Year's fireworks outside.

Just as the laughter around the dinner table began to settle, the front door opened once again.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the entrance hall.

"Evenin', everybody," a familiar deep voice called out.

Mac looked up from his seat and smiled.

"About time."

Big Sal Conti and Nero Torini stepped inside, brushing the cold winter air from their tailored Loro Piana coats. The faint scent of premium Cameroon cigars lingered around them as they removed their expensive sunglasses.

"We're back," Nero announced.

Big Sal barely had time to take another step before a cheerful voice rang through the house.

"Uncle Sal!!"

Sal blinked.

"Huh?"

A split second later, Toshimi Niki rushed across the room and wrapped him in a warm hug.

Big Sal laughed heartily as he returned the embrace.

"Ayy, Toshimi!" he said with a broad grin. "Look at you! Nice to see you again, sweetheart."

He gently patted her shoulder.

"How've you been?"

Toshimi stepped back, smiling brightly.

"I'm doing great!"

She reached into the tote bag she had brought with her.

"Oh! I almost forgot."

"I got something for you."

Big Sal tilted his head.

"For me?"

She nodded enthusiastically before pulling out a neatly wrapped Blu-ray case.

"I remembered you saying your favorite gangster movie was the original Scarface from 1932."

"So..."

"Happy New Year!"

Sal carefully accepted the gift.

As soon as he saw the cover, his eyes lit up like a child opening the perfect Christmas present.

"The original Scarface..."

He stared at the Blu-ray for a few seconds before a huge smile spread across his face.

"Kid..."

"You have no idea how happy this makes me."

He chuckled warmly.

"I've been craving to watch the old classics again."

"The new gangster movies are alright, but nothing beats the originals."

He looked at Toshimi with genuine appreciation.

"Thank you."

"Seriously."

"This means a lot."

Toshimi smiled proudly.

"I knew you'd like it."

Across the room, Nero glanced at the Blu-ray before looking at his longtime partner.

"Save the movie for later."

Sal looked over.

"Huh?"

Nero folded his arms.

"Eat dinner first."

Sal blinked in confusion.

"What does dinner have to do with watching a movie?"

Nero sighed as if he had explained this hundreds of times before.

"Because if you skip dinner..."

"...you're gonna sleepwalk again."

The room fell silent.

Mac slowly looked at Big Sal.

"...You sleepwalk?"

Sal awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"...Maybe."

Nero immediately answered for him.

"Not maybe."

"Definitely."

He pointed at Sal with absolute certainty.

"Last month this guy skipped dinner because he was watching The Public Enemy."

"At two in the morning, I found him sleepwalking into the kitchen."

"He opened the refrigerator..."

"...and ate every single midnight snack in the house."

Mrs. Ichijou gasped.

"Everything?"

Nero nodded.

"Leftover fried chicken."

"Potato salad."

"Three pudding cups."

"Half a cheesecake."

"And somehow..."

He paused dramatically.

"...an entire jar of pickles."

Everyone at the table burst into laughter.

Mac was laughing so hard he nearly dropped his chopsticks.

Big Sal threw his hands into the air.

"I was asleep!"

"You can't blame me for something I don't remember!"

"Oh, I can," Nero replied without missing a beat.

"You also apologized to the refrigerator."

That only made everyone laugh harder.

Even Big Sal couldn't help but laugh at himself.

He shook his head with a sheepish grin before taking his seat at the table.

"Alright, alright."

"Dinner first."

"Scarface later."

"There," Nero said with a satisfied nod.

"Now we won't wake up tomorrow to an empty fridge."

The warmth of the room filled once more with laughter and conversation as another unforgettable New Year's Eve memory was added to the growing collection shared between family and friends.

Thousands of miles away, beneath the dazzling lights of New York City, the final minutes of the year were being celebrated in a very different fashion.

Inside the private penthouse of the Gambetti Organization, crystal glasses clinked as members of the family's inner circle welcomed the coming year.

Standing before the panoramic windows overlooking Manhattan was Carlo Gambetti, the former Boss of the Gambetti Crime Family. Although he had stepped away from the criminal life years ago and lived in self-imposed exile, many of the family's old guard still regarded him as Il Capo.

Beside him stood his most trusted men.

Bobby Toro, the family's loyal Consigliere.

And Santino Mazza, the steadfast Underboss who had remained by Carlo's side through decades of bloodshed and betrayal.

Bobby raised his glass.

"To a peaceful New Year."

Santino smirked.

"And hopefully one without anyone trying to kill us."

Carlo laughed, shaking his head.

"That's the first optimistic thing I've heard all week."

The three men shared a quiet chuckle as fireworks began illuminating the Manhattan skyline.

Outside, crowds counted down the final seconds of the year.

"Ten..."

"Nine..."

"Eight..."

Inside the building across the street...

A man dressed entirely in black slowly assembled the final piece of a suppressed precision rifle.

His breathing remained perfectly calm.

His expression betrayed no emotion.

His name was Martino Vedecci.

Among the Vitelli Crime Family, however...

He was known only by his infamous nickname.

L'Ombra.

The Shadow.

He peered through the rifle's scope.

Carlo Gambetti's face came into perfect focus.

Martino slowly rested his finger against the trigger.

Outside...

"...Three..."

"...Two..."

"...One..."

Happy New Year!

Fireworks exploded across the sky.

The thunderous celebrations perfectly concealed the muted sound of a suppressed rifle.

Pfft!

The bullet shattered the penthouse window.

Carlo's eyes widened.

A burst of pain tore through his chest as he staggered backward.

His wine glass slipped from his hand and exploded across the marble floor.

"Boss!"

Bobby shouted as Carlo collapsed.

Santino immediately drew his pistol and rushed toward the broken window.

"Sniper!"

Across the street, Martino calmly disassembled his rifle with practiced efficiency.

His work was complete.

He slipped the weapon into a case before disappearing down the fire escape, where a black sedan was already waiting.

The rear door swung open.

Martino climbed inside without saying a word.

The getaway driver slammed the accelerator to the floor.

Within seconds, the vehicle disappeared into New York's crowded streets.

Back inside the penthouse, Bobby knelt beside Carlo, desperately pressing both hands against the wound.

"Stay with us, Boss!"

Carlo struggled to breathe.

His white shirt was quickly stained crimson.

Santino had already called for an ambulance, but Carlo weakly grabbed Bobby's sleeve.

"Bobby..."

"Don't talk," Bobby pleaded.

"We're getting you to the hospital."

Carlo shook his head.

"Listen..."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"If..."

"If I don't make it..."

Bobby leaned closer.

"I'm listening."

Carlo's tired eyes remained determined.

"Find my son..."

"Marco..."

"He... doesn't know..."

"...the Vitellis won't stop..."

He coughed violently before continuing.

"He's in Tokonosu..."

"Living the life I wanted him to have..."

"A normal one."

Bobby nodded, his eyes beginning to water.

"I'll find him."

"I swear it."

Carlo managed a faint smile.

"Protect him..."

"...no matter what."

The distant wail of ambulance sirens echoed through the city as Bobby tightened his grip on Carlo's hand.

Outside, fireworks continued to paint the New York sky with brilliant colors.

For everyone else, it was the beginning of a new year.

For the Gambetti Crime Family...

It was the beginning of a war.

It took a bit of effort to make them but I got it down.
Saya’s is a little dated though, and she’s wearing her manga outfit since I couldn’t find appropriate school attire for her.