Flashback...
The rain continued falling outside the small bar.
Kira gently rocked the sleeping baby in her arms.
She looked down at the child's peaceful face.
Then back at Jirin.
"...What's his name?"
Jirin's expression softened.
"His father named him..."
He paused for a moment.
"...Saito."
"Saito Kotsumi."
Kira smiled faintly.
"Saito..."
"That's a nice name."
She adjusted the blanket around the baby.
Then looked at Jirin with a determined expression.
"Fine."
"I'll protect him."
"Whatever danger you're talking about."
Jirin gave a grateful nod.
"You know how the world works now."
"The Calamity Table has begun to rise."
Kira's smile disappeared.
"I know, Jirin."
The room grew quiet.
Jirin looked out at the rain.
"I can't take care of him alone."
"I still have countless missions."
Kira folded her arms.
"To hunt them down?"
Jirin nodded.
"Yes."
He lowered his head slightly.
"Ever since your captain..."
"...Silver Arthur..."
"...died..."
"The chaos has spread everywhere."
Kira's eyes narrowed.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
The name alone carried the weight of an entire era.
Outside—
the storm continued to rage.
Inside—
baby Saito slept peacefully, unaware that the world around him had already begun descending into chaos.
Kira looked at the sleeping baby again.
Then slowly raised her eyes to Jirin.
"So..."
"My guess was right."
Jirin remained silent.
Kira continued.
"You left him with me..."
"...because I was one of your rival's subordinates."
Jirin gave a slow nod.
"Yes."
Kira let out a quiet laugh.
"That's ironic."
"A police lieutenant trusting someone from a rival gang."
Jirin folded his arms.
"I would never trust Arthur with a child."
He shook his head.
"But..."
A small smile appeared on his face.
"He still had morals."
"Even if he acted like a kid most of the time."
Kira couldn't help smiling.
"That sounds exactly like Captain Arthur."
She leaned against the counter.
"I still remember..."
"...the two of you fighting."
She chuckled.
"It must have happened a thousand times."
Jirin nodded once.
"At least."
Kira laughed.
"You'd arrest half his gang..."
"And he'd spend the next week trying to make you chase him again."
Jirin sighed.
"He called it 'keeping life interesting.'"
Kira shook her head with a smile.
"That idiot."
For a brief moment—
both of them smiled at the same memory.
Not as enemies.
But as two people remembering someone they had both known well.
Outside—
the rain continued to fall.
Inside—
baby Saito slept peacefully, unaware that the two adults watching over him had once stood on opposite sides of the law, yet shared respect for the same man.
Several years later...
The rain was gone.
The bar was lively once again.
Young Saito sat on the floor.
His eyes sparkled as he watched Kira return from outside.
She calmly placed her twin blades onto a shelf.
The memory of her rescuing him from kidnappers was still fresh in his mind.
Saito ran over.
"Mom!"
Kira looked at him.
"Hm?"
"How are you doing that?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Doing what?"
Saito excitedly swung his arms through the air.
"Swinging those blades!"
"Then cutting!"
"And slashing!"
Harold, who had been sitting at a nearby table drinking, burst into laughter.
"Hahaha!"
"Looks like the kid's interested."
Kira let out a tired sigh.
She looked down at Saito.
"Yes."
"It's awesome."
Saito's eyes lit up even more.
"But..."
Kira gently placed a hand on his head.
"You are not allowed to do that."
"Understood?"
Saito immediately puffed out his cheeks.
"...Fine."
Harold chuckled into his drink.
"I don't think that'll stop him forever."
Kira glanced at the eager look still lingering in Saito's eyes.
"I know."
"That's exactly what worries me."
That night—
The bar had become quiet.
Most of the lamps had been put out.
Only a single lantern lit the hallway.
In the corner of the room—
young Saito stood holding a wooden stick.
He narrowed his eyes.
Then copied the movements he had seen earlier.
Whoosh.
He swung the stick through the air.
Again.
And again.
Trying to imitate every slash Kira had made with her twin blades.
His movements were clumsy.
But determined.
From the doorway—
Kira watched silently for a moment.
A small smile appeared before she spoke.
"Saito."
"It's time for bed."
Without stopping, Saito swung the stick once more.
"Wait, Mom."
"I'm training."
Kira folded her arms.
"Sleep is more important than that."
Saito lowered the stick.
His shoulders slumped.
"...Okay."
He walked over to his small bed.
Climbed underneath the blanket.
Then pulled it up to his chin.
Kira walked over and gently ruffled his hair.
"Good night."
Saito smiled.
"Good night, Mom."
Kira blew out the lantern.
The room fell into darkness.
Only the sound of the wind outside remained as the little boy drifted off to sleep, still dreaming of the day he could swing a real blade like the woman he admired most.
The next morning—
Sunlight streamed through the windows of the bar.
The smell of fresh bread filled the room.
Young Saito carried a damp cloth in his hands.
He carefully wiped each wooden table.
Kira walked by with a tray.
"Good work."
Saito smiled proudly.
"I'm helping."
Kira nodded.
"I can see that."
She continued toward the counter.
After finishing the last table—
Saito looked across the room.
Harold was sitting in his favorite chair, slowly drinking a mug of tea.
Saito hurried over.
"Uncle Harold."
Harold looked up.
A grin spread across his face.
"Yes, young warrior?"
Saito climbed onto the chair across from him.
"What is Mom like?"
Harold blinked.
"Kira?"
He scratched his beard.
"She's nice."
"Kind."
"...A little overreactive sometimes."
Saito shook his head.
"No."
"I don't mean that."
Harold raised an eyebrow.
"Then what do you mean?"
Saito leaned forward eagerly.
"What was Mom like..."
"...in the past?"
Harold paused.
"Hmm..."
He rubbed his chin.
"You're asking a big question."
Saito nodded repeatedly.
"Yes."
"Please."
Harold looked toward Kira, who was busy cleaning glasses behind the counter.
Then back at Saito.
A smile slowly appeared.
"Alright."
He set his mug down.
"I'll tell you a story."
Saito's eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned in, ready to hear about the woman he had always known simply as "Mom."
Harold leaned back in his chair.
He looked at the curious boy sitting across from him.
"Your mom..."
"...was a gangster."
Saito's eyes grew wide.
"A gangster?"
Harold nodded.
"She retired years ago."
"After her captain died during an execution."
Saito blinked several times.
"...Wow."
"Her captain must've been famous."
A smile crossed Harold's face.
"Of course."
"He was the leader of the White Lion Gang."
He paused for emphasis.
"...The King of Gangsters."
"Silver Arthur."
Young Saito's mouth fell open.
"He was a king?"
Harold chuckled.
"He sure was."
"He accomplished what most gangsters never could."
"He traveled across the world."
"He expanded his territory."
"And he became exactly what people called him..."
"The King of Gangsters."
Saito listened with complete fascination.
Then his expression changed.
"...And he got executed?"
Harold's smile faded.
He slowly nodded.
"Yes."
"Even though he was a kind man..."
"...he was still a gangster."
"He broke the law."
The words lingered in the air.
Saito looked down at the table.
Then quietly asked,
"So..."
"Mom broke the law too?"
Harold was silent for a moment.
Then smiled gently.
"How about..."
"...you ask her yourself, kiddo?"
Saito nodded.
"Okay."
Without another word, he hopped down from the chair.
His small feet hurried toward the counter—
where Kira was still working, completely unaware that a very important question was about to come her way.