[ 'You're close', Nishiki says, and it's weird, to not have it followed with an implication that Okuyasu should have figured it out already. It almost feels kind to have it followed immediately with an explanation instead.

Except for everything about the actual explanation, anyway. ]

You-- you're-- [ Owns a gang. Owns part of a larger gang. The gang. It's gotta be, right? Everyone in there, they looked like fucking business workers. Gangsters like his big bro just wore fucking school uniforms, and street thugs wear their shirts untucked and hands in their pockets and they slouch like Okuyasu himself does, but everyone in there smelled like real money and--

Okuyasu's scowling but he's also got a tremble that's spreading from his hands and up his arms, and it feels like adrenaline but it weighs too much for that. ] Yeah? What, and offer me a fucking job killing people with you?! I don't wanna--

[ That's what does it, and he chokes on his own words for a second. His throat closes over and a few more tears squeeze out while he struggles to speak. ] I'm not doing that shit again! Not for anyone! It doesn't matter if we're like fam--

[ That word, he finally lets choke him for good, and he's silent except for a strangled yell of frustration. ]