Chapter Text
Yoshitaka Mine considered himself a pretty logical man. All his life, he had not been blinded by the feeble emotional whims that others often fell privy to. After a childhood of torment and bullying that only exacerbated after his father died, to clawing his way up through the harsh and cruel reality of the business world, Mine quickly learned that the only person he could rely on was himself and thus acted accordingly. He quietly seethed his way through niceties during company dinners and shook hands with those he’d rather gladly punch in the face during meetings, but through it all remained all too aware that these were the only stepping stones in furthering his success. Money was the one true power a man could possess in this world, it was the only thing he knew would never fail or betray him.
This did not change once he entered the yakuza, although his logical ability had obviously been somewhat shot to pieces after he decided to seek potential in Kanda of all people. Hindsight was a wonderful thing, Mine supposed, as that particular path rewarded him with nothing but headaches, a dent in his bank account and the same false sense of camaraderie his old company had brought him. Perhaps he was never to find the answer to his question; Could true bonds truly be formed in this life? Could he finally find someone, anyone, in which he could fully place his trust?
This however did change once he finally found himself in the company of Daigo Dojima. For the first time in his life, Mine found himself truly and utterly enamoured, infatuated, devoted to a human being and, naturally, it shocked him. Who knew the power to harbour such intense feelings lay dormant within his caged up heart.
That being said, it only made sense really for such a conclusion - who wouldn’t be drawn to follow such a charismatic, selfless and natural born leader such as Daigo. Mine had watched as men were gunned down all to protect their chairman. At the time, as he watched Daigo’s sorrowful face gaze upon his fallen men from his less than ideal alley way vantage point, Mine became more sure than he had been of anything in his entire life that this man was going to be the answer to his question, and that one day he too would receive the honour of sacrificing himself for the beloved sixth chairman.
It was the only logical conclusion one could draw. What wasn’t so logical however was the predicament of how Mine currently found himself doing just that twice in the span of one evening.
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It had been one of Mine’s more successful days as well, which really pissed him off. Everything had all been going so swimmingly well it was almost bound that something had to go wrong, another hilarious joke from the universe which seemed to do nothing but sneer at his pain as he desperately tried to hold the Tojo clan together in Daigo’s memory.
Taking care of their little orphanage problem had gone off without a hitch, even if his cheek (and ego) still ever so slightly stung from the impressive slap he received from one of Kiryu’s runts. Mine almost admired her guts in standing up to him, but alas, he wasn’t going to let a child get in the way of his plans to success. Acquiring the land in Okinawa was the easy part, and before he could even dust the rubble of the orphanage from his suit, they were on a private jet headed straight for Tokyo.
He had even attempted to catch up on a few blessed hours of sleep, a luxury which seemed to be increasingly alluding him these days. The dark bags under his eyes, the faint hint of stubble beginning to shadow his jawline and upper lip as of late betrayed his professional demeanour, and he was sure people were starting to notice, but what was he expected to do? Every time he closed his eyes, there was only one face he could see and it tore his already breaking heart to the point of physical pain, and thus the concept of his once meticulously regulated sleep pattern was abandoned in favour of countless late night workouts, slamming his fists over and over and over into punching bags until his knuckles bled, the sting and ache allowing a brief respite to the overwhelming thoughts of him.
Of course, it was only another cruel joke that his rare nap was once again interrupted by thoughts of Daigo. Mine had tried desperately to detach his fracturing mind from the concept of Daigo’s death, yet as he heard his subordinates gleefully gloat about parties in Tokyo, insulting and demeaning the one man who had brought the only light to his otherwise grim and unfeeling life, Mine thought a knife through the hand was almost too kind a punishment. It wouldn’t do to kill his men before he had a chance to become Daigo’s successor, he’d need all the muscle he could rally to keep such a position, but God if Mine didn’t want to skin those treacherous bastards alive right where they sat for ever even considering to utter the chairman’s name.
His sleep hadn’t been quite so peaceful after that, but he’d take what he could get. After all, he had a big night still ahead of him.
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The car ride to Touto hospital had felt longer than it had any right to, and the tension within the cramped vehicle speeding along the highway felt borderline suffocating. If he hadn’t the status that he did, Mine was sure he would’ve long discarded his tie and freed the top buttons of his shirt in an effort to desperately try and level his breathing. His foot drummed incessantly on the floor, echoing around the otherwise silent car save from the steady rumble of the engine; his fists clenched and unclenched until his fingernails dug white crescents into the meat of his palm, the dull pain anchoring him to reality. If the slipping signs of his neurosis were beginning to bleed through the cracks of his Tojo suit, the Hakuho driver had done his best not to notice.
“You were very fond of Daigo Dojima. More than anyone I’ve ever met… Is it really possible that you’ll have a change of heart right before you kill?”
Richardson’s words, that bastard, echoed through his mind. How dare he come to doubt Mine at the final hurdle? Had Mine not proven himself over and over again that he was fully capable for this job, that he was the only one that could put the chairman out of his misery unlike those cowards within the clan willing to let their leader rot away in a tangle of tubes? It was absurd and downright insulting. Yes, he wore his love for Daigo like the badge on his lapel, but why couldn’t anyone see that that was exactly the reason why he had to be the one to kill him? Seeing his chairman cold and pale on that hospital bed, unresponsive to the fragile touch as he fixed Daigo’s hair back just how he liked it or the desperate quiet pleas to wake up as the beep of his life support echoing as his only response - it was killing Mine.
At least Daigo had the grace of being dead - it was Mine who had been left suffering and festering, fighting through life like the walking dead as though he had taken the bullet himself. The only thing he had ever lived for had been taken from him and left with that harrowing thought, he had resorted to carrying on the organisation Daigo had rescued from that useless scum Kiryu, as meaningless as the gesture felt some days. Sometimes, more often than he’d care to admit, Mine let himself imagine if only for a brief vulnerable moment what life would’ve been like had Daigo never taken that bullet, if Kiryu had never opened that pitiful rescue shelter in Okinawa of all places, if everything had carried on exactly as it should; Mine had never been so happy as to work side by side with Daigo, his heart stuttering as flashes of late night drinks at a seedy bar in Kamurocho, the chairman’s deep laughter, the glowing smile on his face as he looked at Mine, the lingering warmth as hands brushed together as they walked all bombarded his mind like endless torture that he could not stop. What could have been, if only they had more time?
Of course, even sombre and silent contemplation as he made his way to kill the love of his life was not granted to him even then, as the tentative voice of the Hakuho henchman beside him had forcefully ripped him from his thoughts.
“Do you really want to kill Chairman Dojima?”
For a baffling moment, Mine had been stunned into silence, which the clan member had annoyingly taken as an opportunity to keep talking, eyes never once leaving the road as his hands clenched nervously around the steering wheel.
“Though you told Richardson otherwise, I’m well aware how deeply you’re enamoured with chairman Dojima… Can you really do it once you arrive at the hospital?”
If there had been a way for Mine to kill the man right there and then without inevitably adding himself to the fatality count via car crash, he would’ve done so without hesitation.
There it was again, that disgusting slime of pity that coated far too many of the words brave enough to be uttered to him as of late. Before leaving for Okinawa, it had laced through Katase’s words as she abortively attempted to spit out whatever was on her mind, concern evident in her watery eyes framed by thin rimmed glasses. Despite the uneasy contempt that the feeling of being pitied stirred within him, it was somewhat dampened receiving it from Katase. She had been nothing but loyal and hardworking for him, and wisely knew to shut the lead of conversation down before it ever came to fruition. The same could not be said for driver beside and Mine wished he would just shut up and stop talking like Katase had, and had no qualms in telling him so.
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Perhaps it was the stifling lack of air within the car clouding his better judgement, perhaps it was the seeds of doubt planted within him from Richardson and the clan member, perhaps it was pure fate after all that they happened to drive right past it of all the routes through Kamurocho, but Mine simply found he couldn’t stop himself from visiting the oh so familiar bar, its small light twinkling just off the city street. Almost on autopilot, pulled by an invisible force, Mine found himself once again walking through the well-worn doorway, only he had never done so alone before. The bartender had been just as shocked as the sight, ushering him in like an old friend and offering his usual.
Predictably, his visit to their well-loved haunt had not made Mine feel any better really. The warmth of the bourbon had soothed his fraying nerves just a touch, but the lack of his chairman by his side made the whole experience alien and cold. The bottle Daigo had once reserved for the two of them to share sat proudly on the shelf untouched, as the bartender had explained, but Mine couldn’t seem to stomach another drop. Emotional and suddenly quite exhausted (was it from his lack of sleep or the harrowing thought of never getting to share drinks with Daigo again?) Mine had vowed to loan whatever the bartender needed to keep the place running before taking his swift exit. Such a sentimental action felt odd and foreign, but the lasting memories of Daigo seemed ingrained within the very structure of the building, he needed to keep something, anything to tie him to the other man.
Mine would have gladly stayed there all night hearing Daigo’s words from the bartender's mouth, though the whisky tasted bitter on his tongue drinking it alone, but word of Kiryu’s advancement to Touto Hospital shattered his peaceful sanctuary and he was off once more.
—-----------------------
In the end, every single step of what should have been the new beginning of his life and of the Tojo clan, fell to complete and utter ruin, just disaster after disaster honestly; Wholly mortifying from the second the Dragon of Dojima stepped out of that elevator onto the roof to confront Mine, to the ringing gunshots as Daigo dragged himself from certain death to take down the FBI agents surrounding them.
Mine had lit his cigarette as he stared over the Tokyo skyline, but what he hesitated for was still unknown to him. Perhaps he had doubted himself from the very start, and finally having Daigo, pale and lifeless as he was, beside him and the gun sparkling in his hand suddenly made the decision before him terrifyingly real. Could he really shoot the chairman? If he could, why did he decide to wait for Kiryu’s inevitable arrival before even attempting to do so?
Every understanding and pathetic word that left his enemy’s mouth infuriated him beyond reason, emotions he had desperately tried to keep at bay since Daigo had been taken from him unleashing in an ugly and overwhelming wrath. He hated Kiryu and everything he stood for, he hated what he meant to Daigo and he just fucking hated that after everything, Kiryu still tried to help him; offered Mine his hand after beating the shit out of him and promised him that it was never too late to change, that there was still hope for him.
His entire world had come crashing down around him and the pain he felt was nothing like he had ever experienced before, yet the universe still had time to play one last cruel joke on him because Daigo woke up.
And it was in that moment, Daigo screaming that he was not ready to die before wiping out almost all of the FBI surrounding them, before falling into Kiryu’s arms and reassuring Mine with a weary smile that it was all okay now, did Mine know for certain that he had to die.
He was almost thankful upon seeing Richardson stagger across the grated metal towards them, slurred English falling on deaf ears as Mine’s brain was simply too exhausted to translate, gun waving wildly and trained on Daigo. Lunging for him had felt like second nature, the rain of bullets piercing his skin barely registering as charged across to grip his former business partner in a chokehold before dragging him closer and closer to the edge of the roof.
For everything he had done to hurt Daigo, there was only one form of repent strong enough to even begin to touch the sides of atonement. He couldn’t allow himself to live knowing all the lives he had taken in the chairman’s absence, the decimation of the orphanage Kiryu held so close and sacrificed the only way of life he knew to build, the gun he had trained with intent to kill as his chairman lay cold and still on the rooftop; The mere thought of Daigo’s pain of learning all this, and Mine being there to witness the fallout, was too much to bear.
Suicide is often regarded as the coward’s way out, and perhaps he truly was a coward after all, but as Mine felt himself sway precariously on the lip of the hospital roof, cold and empty air whipping against his back as the concrete beckoned him below, he knew it was the only choice, the right choice. One last decision in the chairman’s honour, that was all.
“Maybe in my next life… I’ll have what it takes to earn your respect.”
Before Daigo’s screams and pleas could even register in his ears, not that they would do much to stop him now anyway, Mine took a breath and let himself fall backwards, the first true smile he had felt in weeks still blooming on his bloodied face.
The feeling of weightlessness was almost euphoric, despite the fact it was inevitably going to be short lived. Similar to the way he had felt after Kiryu had sent him reeling across the grated floor on the roof, his body was finally relaxing for the first time since Daigo had been shot, perhaps even longer.
Oh Daigo…
Mine could only hope Daigo wouldn’t be too devastated upon hearing of the countless sins he had committed in his absence. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to believe them at first, Mine had never acted in such violent, erratic, borderline psychotic ways in all his life. He only hoped Daigo could try to understand - losing him felt like losing every last tether to the world he knew and his actions were merely an embarrassingly explosive failed attempt to cling on for dear life as it all kept spinning. God, he hoped Daigo would be okay.
Alas, it was all meaningless now anyway, he supposed, the maze of concrete below growing closer by the second and almost welcoming him down, illuminated softly by the streetlights. Any sound of the endless stream of cars in the city, the scream of the wind as it whipped around his bleeding body, or the panicked yells of Richardson had long been filtered out, instead everything was blissfully silent, almost lulling Mine to sleep in its tranquility.
Mine had always sworn he would live for Daigo, and perhaps dying for Daigo too was always the only way his story would end. It felt right. The sting of the wind’s whip suddenly ceased as he felt a horrible crack as he made impact with the ground below, an almost blinding sense of agony as every bone within his body separated outwards through his skin like shrapnel. That was the last thing he could remember before everything went black.
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“Do you really want to kill chairman Dojima?”
Hesitant words echoed through his brain. Everything felt muffled and distant, like he was receiving his senses from deep underwater before they suddenly returned to him all at once with screaming clarity without warning, ripping a gurgled gasp from his throat before he could stop it.
Where the fuck was he? Was this- no, no it can’t be. The humming of the car’s engine was the first thing to register in his brain, the darkness around him thawing to allow the flash of passing streetlights to sting his eyes as they sped down the motorway. It only took a split second before his body returned to his control, jolting violently in his seat, eyes wide and wild and chest heaving with labouring breaths. The clan member beside sent him a worried look, but Mine could barely register his presence, mind reeling too fast to even begin latching onto a single thought but one:
This can’t be happening.
And so, this was how Mine found himself trapped in car that was headed straight to Touto hospital, where he was expected to bring in a new rule to the Tojo clan, finally dispose of useless legends like the Dragon of Dojima that threatened to put a stop their plans and, of course, kill Daigo Dojima.
Again.