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Summary
"Excuse me for this" he muttered as he tried to remove the man's jacket to examine the wound. As soon as the garment slipped off, Reigen saw it: a tattoo peeking through the bloody white shirt. Dragons, flowers—everything he'd ever seen in documentaries about the yakuza. A shiver ran down his spine. Ah, shit, he thought, his hands pausing for a second in the air. He had a fucking yakuza on his couch.
Arataka Reigen has an (un)fortunate encounter with a dangerous man, and due to a clumsy choice of words, he ends up getting involved more than he should.