A few years ago when you graduated college, things were hard although you were told life would be easier with your degree in engineering. You had all the knowledge necessary to apply for the high paying jobs, like everyone wanted you to, but at the time no one accepted your applications. They didn't want someone new, it was comparable to a clique, you had to know someone to be welcomed in. It was a lot being at home after many rejections. Living in a town surrounded by people who trusted you to live out their dream. They didn't care for the details of what happened, or how difficult it was to achieve their goals. All they saw was disappointment and they never failed to mention it. Their encouraging advice was replaced with irritating reminders that you needed to try harder, after all, you were an adult, and suddenly it was too much to let you stay there doing nothing.

     It wasn't long before you started working any kind of job. You didn't care about the toll it took on your body, you just needed money. You knew that's what everyone was more upset about, so you figured if you had it then they'd be more understanding or kind, at least. But then problems started to come when they saw you as some big shot. People would come to you easily, unashamed to ask for money and of course you'd give and give and give. You had to since your parents' voice was always in your ear saying how it wasn't much, you had plenty. They were bleeding you dry, at that point you worked solely for your small town and it drove up the wall, until you broke. Even though there was no physical restraint, you felt as if you could never be happy as long as you stayed there, so you left.

     You had nothing but the six thousand dollars you pulled from your bank account. With the help of a work friend, you managed to get a small apartment in Tokyo. The landlord gave you the space without demanding a security deposit, but in return you had to help with repairs since you had trade skills; she'd pay you for the labor. It was a great deal, and for a while you were happy. You found yourself and enjoyed the fruits of your labor. Buying the things you always wanted and going to places you've remembered hearing people in your hometown discussing. The experience was worth it, but you knew it wouldn't last without money. During your time at home working trades, you'd get paid cash after you finished your job, but working part time was different. You needed your money to buy food but they held your check for a month. It wasn't long before your frustration took control and you were making desperate decisions.

     You were normally careful with your choices but at the time you didn't care to borrow money from the mafia. They gave you so much and with it you brought your food, then realized you needed clothes, and added some shoes since you only had a few pairs. Then you remembered that college was expensive and you had a lot of debt, but with the money you loaned from the mafia, you paid it off. Things were easier when you had their financial aid and with it, you could get that job you spent your life working for. You could make all that suffering worth it, and it was. Even though you had to get it through a generous donation to the company, it was nice to have been given a high position. It wasn't fair to the others but your work was unmatched, so their disgust soon became admiration. You've been through so much, and now you sit in your office updating your latest design, you were so into your work you didn't notice your boss standing in the doorway until he knocked on the wall.

     "Don't stay up late, smart people lose their knowledge if they don't sleep." He laughed but you knew he was serious. Unlike other bosses, he didn't want his employees to overwork themselves. Then again, since you bought the job you never figured when he was being genuine. You looked over your work and made a few notes before you left your office and started your trip home. Your hands were in your pockets as you walked down the street occasionally staring up at the lights. It was beautiful, but you couldn't focus on them for too long when you had this voice telling you to run. You tried to ease the feeling and told yourself it was nothing, maybe you're just hungry from missing lunch. You were doing good ignoring your gut until you spotted a fancy, large black truck. It stopped near you, blocking the walkway and a few men dressed in suits got out. The man in the center, leading the group, had white shoulder length hair and a Bonten symbol tattooed on the left side of his head. It was the executive, Kokonoi. When he said your name you sprinted and didn't look back. You knew what he was there for and you couldn't give it to him. They chased you through the alley way and down the streets but after a while you were able to blend in with the crowd. You took the long way home going through hoops to make sure they weren't pursuing you. By the time you made it home the sun was set and no one in the neighborhood had their lights on. You checked your driveway and made sure there weren't any cars, it was empty. So you went to your door and walked in the house, taking off your coat and shoes before you went further in.

     "We parked a few blocks down." Kokonoi was seated on the sofa while his men blocked the entrance. You tried to go towards the staircase and guns were drawn. "I'm here for the money, but surely you knew that since you ran." He leaned forward and looked in your eyes even though they were shaking from the fear. "So either you have the money and you're being stupid, or you're dumb enough to believe you could skip town. Which is it?"

     "You got the wrong person." Your voice was so low he nearly missed it. He cupped his ear and moved closer and told you to repeat yourself. "Yo-" But he punched you in the face before you could. Blood poured out your nose and you clenched your face groaning.

     "Are done lying?" He pulled out a ledger and tapped on your signature. "You signed your name next to the amount you were given, and it's a lot of money. Do you have it?"

     "Please don't kill me." Your heart sank to your ass and you dropped to the floor with your hands folded, begging him for mercy. You grabbed at his clothes but he kicked you back.

     "You stacked up nearly five hundred thousand dollars, I can't give you a slap on the wrist. Especially not after you ran off and lied about it. Hell we could've sat and talked about monthly payments since you got your new job, but you went about it the wrong way." He snapped his fingers and you were being held up by two men while another stood in front of you.

     "Please no! I can pay you back! Please you said it yourself!" You yelled but he ignored you and prepared his equipment. If you weren't being held, you would've collapsed from the force of the punches being delivered. Memories you thought were long gone suddenly flooded your mind. It goes on for nearly fifteen minutes but for you it felt like hours. At one point you were on the ground trying to protect your face while they kicked and stomped on you.

     "Enough, hold'em up." You felt a cool chill over your wrist as Kokonoi cleaned the area, you were confused until you heard buzzing. You tried pulling your arm but the grip his men had was much stronger. "It'll look horrible if you keep doing that." He hummed as he started to pierce your skin with the needle. Getting a tattoo wasn't something you planned on doing since you knew it'd be painful, but in the moment you were more focused on the pain near your chest and wondering if you would die. The tattoo was similar to his own, but it wrapped around your wrist like a permanent bracelet. "All done." He freed your wrist and you were dropped to the floor. The men took his equipment and left the house, a few paramedics replaced their presence but Kokonoi remained. He followed the medics as they hoisted you into the ambulance. "You work for Bonten now, wait, work implies that you're getting paid. Property is a better word. When you're released from the hospital, there will be someone to pick you up. Don't do anything stupid in the meantime."