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fhgfdbmbayi · 5 days ago

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Trying something new, writing a fanfic. Which is super out of my comfort zone. So I drew one of my fav scenes. If anyone is interested in it or wants some context for this pic, you can check it out here on ao3.

Or you can read the story below the cut.

Midnight. On the bridge. Come alone.

That was all the note said, scrawled in hurried handwriting on a scrap of paper slipped under Agata’s rundown apartment door. He had almost missed it, the white edge barely peeking out before it could vanish beneath the bookshelf. For a moment, he stared at it, his heart pounding.

This was it. What he’d been waiting for. Ever since he started mingling with the lions who ruled the black market, Agata had anticipated a sign like this. The Shishigumi—an infamous gang whose influence ran deep through the black market’s veins—wasn’t just a group; they were the group. Ruthless, powerful, untouchable.

He walked to the window, the city’s dim lights casting long shadows across the room, and began to get dressed. If his instincts were right, tonight wasn’t one of Free’s pranks. Tonight was his chance. The invitation he’d been waiting for—to finally be one of them.

But if the rumors whispered in the darkest corners of the Market were true, joining the Shishigumi was no simple task. The gang had one of the roughest reputations, known for being some of the meanest cats ever to prowl the shadows. Agata had once asked what someone had to do to become a full-fledged member. Free and Dope had joked, throwing out absurd ideas like stealing a tuft of the mayor’s tail fur or spending the night locked in a box underwater. Hino claimed they made you shave your mane and strut around like a lioness for the night. But no one ever gave a straight answer.

The only ones who stayed silent were Ibuki and Dolph. They said nothing and simply looked... sad. Agata shook his head at the memory. He must have been misremembering. The Shishigumi were ruthless, sure, but they took care of their own. Whatever the initiation entailed, it couldn’t be anything that bad. Could it?

He would be turning 20 this year and had been living independently since he was 17. He’d tried to lead an honest life, but nothing had ever truly satisfied him. Agata had always stood apart, both in appearance and demeanor. His imposing stature and dark fur made him a prominent presence, a natural leader in the eyes of others. But Agata didn’t want to lead. He never craved the spotlight, never wanted the burden of greatness. As a child, people had assumed his potential without ever bothering to know him.

What Agata wanted was more straightforward: to belong. Not to stand at the forefront, but to be part of something larger, something meaningful. He didn’t want glamour or glory. He felt most at ease when he was just another cog in the machine—not the one pulling the strings. And with the Shishigumi, he felt that sense of belonging. With them, he wasn’t an outlier.

Not to mention, he’d discovered he was surprisingly good at committing crimes. His dark fur turned out to be an asset, helping him blend into the shadows, and his strength made him a natural enforcer. He’d already assisted some of the guys on a few easy jobs, proving himself useful. In this world, no one looked to a criminal to lead. No one demanded greatness from someone who slinked around the edges of the black market. It was strange, but for the first time, Agata felt like he might have a chance at something that resembled a normal life.

Tonight, could be the night—the moment he solidified his place within the pride. He was sure he could handle whatever they threw at him. Whatever it took to become one of them.

As the clock crept closer to midnight, Agata made his way to the bridge Dolph had pointed out months ago. The older, scarred lion’s words echoed in his mind: Anything important, anything that needed to be handled, would be dealt with there. The night was unnervingly quiet, as if the world itself held its breath in anticipation. Even the wind seemed to still, heightening the tension in the air. The clouds hung low in the sky casting grand shadows across the river. Every fiber of Agata’s being was on high alert, his whiskers twitched, and his claws started to extend on their own. The low hum of an approaching engine broke the silence, drawing Agata’s attention. His ears turned straining to catch the sound as it grew louder. A car’s headlights suddenly cut through the darkness, blinding him. Squinting, he barely had time to react as several large, shadowy figures leapt from the vehicle and surrounded him.

Instinctively, Agata raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, hoping to signal that he meant no harm.

"Look at this cub, all dressed up like he belongs here," one of the larger lions sneered, stepping closer. His voice dripped with mockery as he shoved Agata hard. The blow caught him off guard, sending him stumbling straight into another lion’s chest.

"You lost, rookie?" the first lion jeered, his laugh echoing in the cold night air.

Agata barely had time to steady himself before rough paws grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning him around.

"He’s shaking already!" another lion crowed, his tone cruel and gleeful. "This one’s not gonna last five minutes!"

A sharp fist drove into Agata’s gut, the impact stealing his breath. He doubled over and crumpled to the ground, coughing and wheezing as pain blossomed in his ribs. Panic surged through him—his mind screamed that this wasn’t a prank, wasn’t a test. They were playing with him like a pack of hyenas toying with prey.

But then, clarity cut through the haze of fear. If he didn’t fight back, he wouldn’t survive the next five minutes.

A shadow loomed over him, and he glanced sideways just in time to see a foot arcing toward his head. Gritting his teeth, Agata rolled, the sole of the boot grazing the fur on his temple as it smashed into the ground where he’d just been.

Using the momentum of his roll, Agata scrambled to his feet, adrenaline drowning out the ache in his body. The harsh glare of the car’s headlights still blinded him, reducing the advancing lions to hulking silhouettes. He counted five—maybe six—but there could’ve been more.

The next lion lunged at him, swinging a heavy fist aimed at his jaw. This time, Agata was ready. He sidestepped the blow and brought his elbow up hard, driving it into the back of the lion’s head. The impact sent the attacker sprawling forward, and Agata pivoted, using the opening to deliver a sharp jab to another lion’s ribs.

For a brief, dizzying moment, he thought he might hold his ground. A surge of fierce determination coursed through him as he ducked and weaved, striking out whenever he saw an opening. His fists connected with fur and flesh, and the satisfying sound of a grunt told him he’d landed at least one solid hit.

But then, out of nowhere, a voice snarled, closer than it should’ve been:

"You don’t even know what you’re asking for, do you? This life’ll chew you up and spit you out."

Agata spun toward the voice, but too late. Pain exploded across the back of his head as something heavy—maybe a pipe or a baton—struck him with brutal force.

The world tilted. His vision swam, and his legs gave way beneath him. As he crumpled to the ground, the last thing he saw was the shifting blur of shadows circling above, the laughter of his attackers fading into the encroaching darkness.

And then, everything went black.

The first thing Agata noticed was the smell: old stone, damp with age, mingled with the acrid tang of stale cigarettes. It was enough to stir him back to consciousness. He groaned softly, his head pounding as he opened his eyes, only to be greeted by blurred shapes of tan and yellow swimming in his vision.

His cheek rested on something cold and unyielding—stone, maybe—and for a brief moment, his mind raced to piece together what had happened. The bridge. The lions. The fight.

Agata shot upright, his fur bristling, claws unsheathed, and instincts screaming. This time, he didn’t wait for a fight to come to him. He lashed out, swinging hard and landing a hit on the closest lion—a sharp blow above the eye.

But before he could follow through, a massive paw clamped down on the scruff of his neck. He yelped as a lion with thick dreads hauled him off his feet with effortless strength, disarming him in one swift motion.

"Look who’s finally awake," the dreadlocked lion rumbled, a toothy grin splitting his face.

"Aww, he’s like a little kitten," another lion teased, his tone dripping with mock sympathy.

"Miguel," a third chuckled, "I didn’t know you had such a motherly side. What’s next? Are you gonna start grooming him?"

Agata found himself surrounded, the pride of lions from the bridge and more closing in, their feline eyes gleaming with amusement and curiosity. They loomed over him, scrutinizing him now that he was conscious, the tension crackling in the air.

"Look, guys," Agata stammered, panic tightening his voice. "I don’t know what I did! I’m sorry! I’ll get out of town, I swear! You’ll never hear from me again—"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, buddy," Free interrupted, stepping forward with an easy grin. "You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you put up one hell of a fight back there."

Agata blinked, his breath still coming fast. "What… what does that mean?"

"Sorry we had to rough you up," Free continued, his tone almost apologetic. "But we had to be sure. We can’t just let anyone join the Shishigumi."

"Wait, are you serious?" Agata swallowed hard as the lion with dreads finally set him down. His legs wobbled beneath him. "Does this mean… I’m in?"

Free tilted his head, a sly smile curling his lips. "Well… not quite."

Agata’s heart sank. "Huh?"

"Like I said," Free replied, "we can’t just let anyone join the group. There’s a process. Blood in, blood—"

A loud creak interrupted him. All heads turned toward the heavy double doors at the far end of the room. They groaned open slowly, the sound echoing in the still air.

Free and the other lions immediately backed away, their casual demeanor vanishing in an instant. Agata’s stomach churned as he followed their gazes to the doorway.

The lion who entered didn’t have the imposing stature one might expect from a leader. He walked with a pronounced limp, leaning heavily on a cane for support. His balding mane was slicked back with gel and grease, giving it a sickly sheen under the dim light. Two jagged scars slashed across his face, running dangerously close to his eyes—remnants of a fight that might’ve blinded a lesser predator.

But what he lacked in physical presence, he made up for in raw authority.

The moment he stepped into the room, silence fell like a guillotine. Every lion snapped to attention, their postures rigid and their gazes fixed straight ahead. All except for Agata.

Agata, the literal black sheep in the room, stuck out like a sore thumb. He was the only lion not dressed in a suit and tie, the only one bruised and battered from the earlier fight, and the only one whose stance betrayed his unease. He couldn’t help but stare as the older lion made his slow, deliberate way across the room, the rhythmic tap of his cane punctuating the stillness.

"When I was a cub," the older lion began, his voice low and gravelly, "lions were considered the Kings of Beasts. No creature dared interfere with our business… because they quickly became lunch."

He stopped directly in front of Agata, his piercing gaze boring into him. "But now, the world seems to disagree with the old ways. Lions are no longer feared as we once were." His lips curled into a faint, menacing smile. "However, there’s one thing no one can dispute—raw power. And that’s something we’ve always had and must continue to hold onto."

Before Agata could react, the boss grabbed his shirt and yanked it up in one swift motion, exposing his torso. He inspected Agata’s body with the detached air of someone evaluating a product, his fingers brushing over the younger lion’s ribs and shoulders. Then came the cane, tapping against his arms and back as though testing the sturdiness of newly purchased goods.

Agata froze, stunned into submission. His wide eyes darted around the room, searching for any reaction—any support—but the other lions stood motionless, their faces unreadable.

"Open your mouth," the boss commanded.

Agata hesitated, unsure if he’d heard correctly. The pause proved too long. The older lion stomped hard on Agata’s foot, and as the younger lion yelped in pain, the boss seized his opportunity. Fingers shot into Agata’s mouth, gripping his tongue and pulling it out as though inspecting a prize animal’s fangs. The probing was methodical, his rough fingers pressing against teeth and gums with a practiced precision.

Agata’s body locked in place, too shocked to resist.

The inspection ended as abruptly as it began. The older lion released him without ceremony, wiping his fingers on a handkerchief he produced from his pocket. "Hmph," he muttered under his breath, stepping back.

"A lion with a dark mane," he said, his voice dangerously soft, "is often considered a strong candidate for leadership." He leaned in close, his breath hot against Agata’s ear. "You’d do well to keep any ambitions… in check."

"Y-yes, sir," Agata stammered, nodding frantically.

The older lion’s mouth twisted into a cruel smile as he patted Agata’s cheek—a gesture that felt more like a warning than affection. Without another word, he turned and made his way to the table set at the far side of the room.

The tension in the air eased slightly as he lowered himself into the head chair, the creak of the wood seeming to signal that the worst was over. Agata dared to exhale, his nerves still jangling. But before relief could take hold, the boss motioned silently with his hand, and several lions immediately exited the room without explanation.

Whatever came next, Agata knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“The Shishigumi live by simple rules,” the Boss declared from his makeshift throne, his voice carrying the weight of an ancient decree. The other lions had begun to settle into their seats around him, a silent council of judgment, while Agata remained standing alone in the center of the room.

“Be loyal to the family, put the family first in all matters, and, of course, Blood in, Blood out.” He leaned forward slightly, his cane resting across his knees as his sharp gaze fixed on Agata. “That last one might sound confusing, but it’s quite straightfoward.”

The lions who had left earlier returned, this time carrying a large, covered cage. Its ominous silhouette sent a shiver down Agata’s spine.

“In order to leave the Shishigumi, blood must be spilled. Typically, your own.” The Boss smirked faintly; his words deliberate. “And to join the Shishigumi, blood still needs to be spilled. It’s a balance—one that separates us from the spineless and the unworthy.”

With a sharp tug, the cover was ripped away, revealing the cage’s occupant: a massive, hulking white bear. Its fur glistened under the dim light, giving it an almost spectral quality.

“If you want to prove yourself worthy of joining our ranks,” the Boss continued, his voice now a growl, “you must kill this bear. Spill its blood to be welcomed into the family. Show us that you can separate yourself from the weak-willed and pathetic creatures who dare still call themselves carnivores.”

For a moment, Agata couldn’t move. The lions had retreated to the table, watching him from behind a heavy steel gate that had risen from the floor, separating them from what was to come. The bear, however, remained eerily still within its cage.

The room was silent except for the low groan of metal as the cage door creaked open. Agata’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped forward, his legs heavy as lead. He expected the bear to lunge at him, to fight for its life. But instead, he heard something that stopped him cold.

A whimper.

Frowning, Agata bent down for a closer look. His breath hitched as the truth dawned on him. The bear wasn’t the massive adult he had thought—it was just a teenager. And not even a polar bear. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a white-furred grizzly—a rare find, but smaller and younger than any true predator should be.

He stumbled back, horrified, and turned toward the group of lions. The disbelief was written all over his face as he searched their expressions for an answer, for some kind of reassurance. Most averted their eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze. Free’s face twisted in self-loathing, his jaw clenched.

Only Dolph stared directly at him.

Dolph’s gaze was hard, unflinching, as if trying to speak a silent truth. This is the life we all chose, his eyes seemed to say. And now, this is the life you’re choosing. Commit to it, or run while you can. But understand one thing—you’re in the company of killers.

The weight of Dolph’s unspoken words sank into Agata’s chest like a stone.

He turned back toward the cage, steadying himself as the bear whimpered softly again. Agata clenched his fists, his heart warring against his mind. He knew this was a crossroads, the moment that would decide everything. The path before him was dark, but it was the only one left. He had to belong somewhere. If this was the price, so be it.

With trembling hands, he stepped forward and reached into the cage, grabbing the young bear by the throat. The creature struggled weakly, its wide, terrified eyes locking onto Agata’s. He forced himself to look away as he tightened his grip.

“I’m sorry,” Agata whispered, his voice barely audible.

He tried to make it quick, but the bear’s blood spilled all the same, gushing onto the cold floor in a pool of crimson. Agata watched the light fade from its eyes, his stomach lurching violently. He turned away just in time to suppress the bile rising in his throat, but he couldn’t stop the sickening weight that settled in his chest.

Something inside him broke.

It was like watching a piece of his soul evaporate, leaving behind a hollow, unrecognizable shell. This was his turning point, his blood baptism. There was no going back.

The Boss rose from his chair and approached, his slow, deliberate steps echoing in the silent room. He gestured toward the lifeless bear with his cane, then looked Agata in the eyes.

“This blood symbolizes your birth into our family. From this moment, we are one until death.”

Agata swallowed hard, his voice trembling but steady as he nodded solemnly.

“Yes, sir.”

The Boss smirked, clapping him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the Shishigumi.”

Agata said nothing, the weight of his choice pressing down on him. He had a new home, a new family… and a new darkness that would haunt him forever.

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