Yakuza Fanfiction Novels & Stories

He sobbed at Yuki. Gathering her last energy, Yuki managed to move one of her hands and touch Fūma's face with a weak smile. She said, "Fuma, this is not your fault. I-I, I'm also guilty. I'm sorry…. I'm sorry. I lo-love you, Fūma. Sorry, because of me.... You have to suffer. I -I make you hurt, and.... You, you have to feel this pain again. I'm sorry.... If only I had never existed. If only I had died back then, maybe.... Maybe now you do not have to feel anything for my departure. I'm sorry... Fūma. Please... Fūma. Please... forgive me.... Please, do not be sad.... No, do-don't cry Fūma…." "Sssttt.... What are you saying? Yuki, this is not your fault. You better keep your energy. I'll trea

As Ginga entered his room and closed the door with a bang, the Yakuza boss was stunned at his place. His son was extra angry today. Than came a loud smashing sound. Inside the room, a vase was smashed against the mirror. The school uniform was being torn revealing a body that seemed to be trained for fighting. On the shoulder was a tattoo. The tattoo that belonged to the members of Yakuza. He could not contain his anger. All his life, he acted like an innocent foolish but Summer ended up liking the bad boy. He was heart broken and felt betrayed. But now it all was going to over.

Mark was just laughing while Dex tried to separate them. Well, this is fun in a way but I have to go soon so I clear my throat and said, "STOP! Mind your manners in an official meeting. If I'm not in a hurry, I can leave you two to brawl for as long as you want. With that, I assume that there is no objection, and to answer Liliana's question, No. There is more to this than just that." They stop and stood up straightening their clothes and go back to their respective seats. "The next one is about negotiating and building relations with Japan. Those Yakuza used to prefer Grey Howl but somehow a new gang arise there and completely take over the other big gang. Lucky for us, this gang is also ha

That scar… god that intriguing scar that stretched from the top of his left lip down to his jaw only added to his charm in a strange unsettling way. The man sitting opposite him was leaner with a black fade haircut, ink creeping up his neck and knuckles. Kenji Sato — the Japanese yakuza leader that based in the heart of the country —Tokyo city. Alina recognized the sly man instantly. “Who's that with the Don?” Mira whispered to Alina. “Quiet.” She murmured back. Antonio's smooth voice spoke out. “What makes you think this Alliance you're proposing will benefit me?”

No idea why she's feeling so on edge like this tonight, but her bitterness level is rising. "You're more handsome in person, Massimo" Izumi said, refusing to let go of his hand. Massimo let go, then he talked intentionally. "Are you the raped daughter of the Yakuza? He mentioned that Driton raped his daughter" Izumi's countenance nearly switched, but she kept herself together with a smile. "No. That was my junior sister, Kira" "Welcome to the party," Massimo replied curtly, taking Violette's hand and interlocking it with his own.

The old man started, "Your father was a Korean member of the Kazuno clan. A crime group syndicate that operates in Japan. He was accused of betraying his group by selling information to outsiders. He was killed by Kazuno Haruto, the leader of the clan. Your mother fled to South Korea with your uncle then moved to London. You know nothing about this, aren't you?" Austin sighed. "You just hand me a puzzle piece that completes the whole picture," The story undoubtedly fit but it was foolish to blindly trust his words. Austin stared at the man who still had his black sunglasses on, "Who are you and why are you telling me all of this and how can I know you are not giving me false information and

But not enough. “From what?” she challenges. “Rich men in suits?” Christ. I let out a slow breath, trying to hold onto the last thread of control I have left. “You danced with Kenji Takahashi,” I say finally. She blinks. The name still means nothing to her. Of course it doesn’t. “He’s the head of one of the most powerful Yakuza factions in the world,” I continue. “He doesn’t attend events like this for entertainment. He doesn’t approach women out of curiosity.”

I swat his hand away, clasp the bottle, and place it in front of me under the table so he doesn't have access to it. Even though he’s sitting still, his eyes are shifty and agitated. I’m ready to bet it’s because of whatever seed Pharaoah planted in his head back at the house. The door slides open again; this time, it's not the waitress. Kai walks in, followed by an old, short man who wears a pressed suit. Abe Hitori. The leader of the Yakuza branch in New York. Pharaoah and I stand in greeting, but Pakstan remains planted in place. He also uses the chance of my standing up to grab the bottle of vodka.

Nitta turned to me instead. “How was Italy?” Ryuu remained fixated on his phone, but I knew he was listening. “How do you think it was?” Fukui grumbled from the driver’s seat. “Ryuu got shot.” “Someone always gets shot,” Nitta said as if it were nothing, flashing me a carefree smile. “I meant, how was your time with your family?” “It was good,” I answered honestly. My gaze drifted to Ryuu, who was watching me now. “I didn’t realize how much I missed them until I saw them again. I hope they can visit soon.”