You have the devil in your eyes

I’ve had worse. Ash stared at him, letting those words register in his brain and slowly, very slowly realizing what that meant. Who would dare hit Eiji, the sweetest man he’d ever met? The blonde wanted to scream.

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“You’re much less terrible than I thought.” He agreed, sipping slower and drinking much less than Chuuya. “You dress like a mafia don from a movie though, dead giveaway that you’re up to no good.”

“That’s the way I like to play it. When I walk in the room, everyone should know exactly what I’m about. It’s like the bright red mark of a Black Widow, letting you know not to get too close. And besides that– I make this look good.” He smirked.

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“Can’t blame me for being a little suspicious.” Ash pointed out, though he wondered just how much truth there was to Chuuya’s boast, and raised an eyebrow at it. “The Corsican mafia isn’t a good organization. Anyone working with them would automatically be on my list of people to avoid.”

“Mafias tend not to be good organizations. I didn’t join one because Girl Scouts didn’t take me, you know.” He laughed, his cheeks getting a little pink as he continued to drink. “I’m a pretty terrible person. Though, not as terrible as you thought when I walked up. I have standards.”

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He raised an eyebrow. “I know about the Corsican Mafia does…how much more different is the Port Mafia?” Ash asked warily, setting his glass down again.

“Conceptually, the same. I could crush that whole place before dinner, though.” Chuuya sighed, looking almost put out about his statement before a little smugness crept back into his expression. “But I feel you edging back to asking about current business. Suffice to say, our worlds don’t often overlap.”

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“I don’t let them be preyed on, but i don’t sugarcoat the dangers.” Ash said firmly. “There’s no point. Not when they came from the streets, they already know. I help them learn to survive it. Because if Idon’t teach them…no one will.”

“If no one teaches them, they’ll die like mangy dogs in the street.” He agreed smoothly. “And do they learn to earn their keep?”

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“Yeah, I was fifteen.” He nodded, setting the glass down, staring into the liquid, watching his and Chuuya’s distorted reflection. “I don’t let them fight until they’re older, or do any of the dangerous shit. Its really just a way to protect them from people who would prey on them.”

“Protection is the idea but when do you cross the line into coddling, do you think? The world is a dark and violent place, full of terrible people. Are you protecting them by keeping them from violence?” He wondered, tilting his head to the side before taking another sip.

He watched the wine in his glass swirl around for a moment longer before looking up. “You were fifteen when you became a boss, then? That was right around when I got my current position. Young blood keeps the machines rolling, doesn’t it?” He said with a slightly soft expression. “You take in kids? How exactly do you have that work out?”

The mafioso gestured to the other glass. “Tab’s on me. How long have you been with your gang, both as leader or a member? New York isn’t a small town to compete in.”