The interrogation room was small and bare, the white walls providing no comfort or escape. A single metal table and two chairs sat in the center of the room, the chairs bolted to the floor.

Officer Ayaka Fujimoto sat in one chair, facing the one-way mirror that looked into the room. Ayaka was in her late 30s, with neat black hair cut in a sharp bob and sharp, calculating brown eyes. Though her posture appeared relaxed, her mind was sharp, focused on the suspect sitting silently on the other side of the mirror.

The door opened, and detective Ryota Nakamura walked in. He was in his early 40s, with brown hair graying at the temples and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. "What do we have here?" he asked, his deep voice betraying his exhaustion after a long day.

"Akemi Katsuragi," Ayaka replied. "126 years old, believed to be the former head of the Crimson Rose Yakuza clan during Prohibition."

Ryota raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "126? Why don't I believe that."

Ayaka slid a file across the table. "She has Temporal Stasis Syndrome. It disrupts her aging process, keeping her physically around 25 years old while, chronologically, she's over a century old. A real medical anomaly."

Ryota examined the file, shaking his head in disbelief. He looked through the glass at the petite woman calmly sitting with her hands folded, black hair tied back neatly, and crimson kimono pristine, showing no signs of age beyond early adulthood. But her eyes, cold and calculating, betrayed the ruthless soul of a crime boss who had once ruled Tokyo's underworld.

"Well then," Ryota said dryly. "Let's have a chat with this so-called 126-year-old." He got up and opened the door, walking into the interrogation room to finally confront the legendary demon of Crimson Rose.

The air in the interrogation room felt stagnant and heavy as Officer Ayaka and Detective Ryota entered. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh, clinical glow over the sparse furnishings.

Akemi Katsuragi sat perfectly still, hands folded calmly in her lap. Her beautiful young face betrayed no trace of emotion, but her eyes followed the detectives' every move with keen intelligence and crafty calculation. Despite her youthful appearance, those eyes held the cold cruelty of someone who had ruled through fear for over a century.

Ayaka walked around the table, her steps precise and measured. Though she appeared junior to the seasoned detective, her sense of confidence and composure were evident in the way she carried herself.

Ryota took the seat across from Akemi, setting the file down with a weary sigh. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaustion evident in the wrinkles around his eyes. But when he looked up at the suspect, his gaze was sharp and probing.

"Akemi Katsuragi," he said, his deep voice filling the cramped room. "We want to hear your story. Tell us about your past, your rise within the Crimson Rose Clan."

Akemi said nothing. Her young face betrayed no emotion, but behind her placid facade, her mind raced furiously.

Ayaka studied her companion, noting the subtle signals that showed Ryota's weariness but also his curiosity and respect for the suspect's iron will. Their dynamic was one of equals, each bringing different skills and perspectives, but neither underestimated the cunning they faced in Akemi Katsuragi.

Ryota pressed further. "You have a unique perspective on the criminal underworld of Tokyo during Prohibition. Help us understand how the yakuza clans operated back then."

Ryota pressed further. "Tell us about the Crimson Rose Clan during Prohibition. What kind of illegal operations were you involved in?"

Akemi's cold eyes considered the detectives for a moment before she spoke. Her soft voice belied the ruthless power she had once wielded.

"It started in 1920. I was 23 years old at the time. Prohibition had created a black market for alcohol, and Crimson Rose controlled much of the illegal liquor trade in Tokyo."

Ayaka listened attentively, jotting down notes. Ryota remained focused on Akemi's calm yet penetrating gaze.

Akemi continued. "We soon diversified into other criminal operations: human trafficking, smuggling drugs from China, extorting businesses, illegal gambling dens. We controlled the police and politicians through threats and bribes."

Ryota broke in. "And how did you carry out these illegal activities? What tactics did Crimson Rose employ?"

Akemi paused, then answered. "We were ruthless. Anyone who opposed us or failed to pay their dues disappeared. Bodies turned up as a warning to others. We controlled the underground through fear, slaughtering rival gangs and anyone suspected of betraying Crimson Rose."

As Akemi finished recounting Crimson Rose's ruthless tactics, Ryota probed for further details. But as Akemi spoke, her mind drifted back two decades...

Akemi sat at her desk, sipping green tea, as she reviewed account ledgers detailing Crimson Rose's latest profits from prohibited liquor, gambling, and vice. Her elegant crimson silk robes adorned with gold embroidery marked her high status within the clan, a subtle reminder of the power she wielded.

A knock at the door disturbed her thoughts. "Enter!" she called.

Kenji, Akemi's trusted lieutenant, walked in and bowed respectfully. "Boss," he said. "We have a problem. One of our shipments was seized by the police; there will be a shortage next week."

Akemi frowned. Lost profits were unacceptable. "Increase production at the distilleries," she ordered. "And find out who in the police force needs to have their palms greased more generously."

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Kenji nodded. "It will be done." He hesitated before continuing. "There are some who say at your young age, you only rule through fear. They will seek to undermine your authority."

Akemi's eyes hardened. "Then those fools will learn what happens to those who oppose Crimson Rose." Kenji bowed his head in deference, then quietly withdrew from her office.

Akemi leaned back and turned her gaze to the cityscape outside her window—Tokyo's thriving black market was hers to control...

As Kenji withdrew from her office, he paused at the door. "The Rose and Thorn is having a private event tonight. The boss should have some enjoyment besides ledgers and troublemakers."

Akemi considered it for a moment. "Very well, have the car brought around at 8."

Kenji bowed. "As you wish." With that, he stepped out and quietly closed the door.

Akemi returned her gaze to the city below, lost in thought. For years now, Tokyo's criminal underworld had bent to Crimson Rose's will. At first, she had relished the opportunities for profit, power, and pleasure that came with ruling the clan. But lately, a heaviness had settled in her heart. The faces of those who opposed her—those who had met swift and brutal ends—now haunted her dreams.

Still, she reminded herself, there was no other way. Fear was the only true currency in the shadows she now inhabited. And any sign of weakness would invite attempts to undermine her authority.

At 8 o'clock sharp, her sleek black automobile pulled up. Akemi stepped out of her office for the first time that day, allowing herself to be escorted down into the waiting car. Soon she was cruising through the neon-lit nightscape towards The Rose and Thorn, determined to escape, if only for a night, the weight that came with ruling Tokyo's most ruthless criminal empire.

As the sleek black automobile pulled away from Crimson Rose headquarters, Akemi settled back against the leather seats. Outside, the city passed by in a blur of neon lights and shadows.

Though Prohibition was in full effect, evidence of the black market was everywhere. Men slipped discreetly into speakeasies concealed behind blank façades. Cars loaded with illegal liquor drove past, watched over by yakuza enforcers riding motorcycles. Street vendors hawked opium, gambling chips, and other illicit wares to a steady stream of customers.

The Rose and Thorn was located in one of Tokyo's nightlife districts, best known for its cabarets, jazz clubs, and geisha houses. As they pulled up outside the club, Akemi could hear the muffled sounds of laughter, jazz music, and clinking sake cups drifting from within.

Her driver escorted her inside, where she was immediately shown to a private booth. The club's patrons, mostly gangsters and petty criminals, fell silent as Akemi passed. They knew better than to make eye contact with the ruthless leader of Crimson Rose.

Akemi settled into her booth, pretending interest as a beautiful dancer in a sequined costume swayed to the music on the stage. But her thoughts kept returning to the heaviness in her heart—the burden of ruling through fear and ruthlessness. For just one night, she wished she could escape the dark side of her power and authority within Tokyo's criminal underworld. But she knew such freedom was forever beyond her grasp.

Akemi contemplated the darkness within her heart when a familiar figure approached her booth, setting down a drink.

Akemi looked up to see her younger brother Kaito, his warm smile beckoning her out of her troubled thoughts. "I didn't order anything," she said in amused confusion.

Kaito sat down beside her. "You didn't have to," he replied. "I could tell by that brooding look on your face that you needed a drink."

Akemi nudged him playfully. "You know me too well, little brother." She picked up the sake and took a sip.

Kaito smiled warmly at her. "Of course I do. It's my job to chase away those dark thoughts that creep in."

Akemi gazed at him fondly. "And you do it well." She reached over and squeezed his hand affectionately. "Thank you, Kai. Your light in the darkness means more to me than you know."

Kaito squeezed her hand back. "I'm always here when you need me, sis. Nothing will ever change that."

Akemi knew he spoke the truth. No matter how far her empire of fear and ruthlessness extended, Kaito's love and light would remain unchanged, a beacon guiding her back from the shadows. And for now, that was enough.

Akemi's story trailed off as she was pulled back into the sterile interrogation room. Ryota asked in surprise, "You had a brother?"

Akemi's eyes suddenly hardened. "I did. Until he..."

Detective Ryota sat forward, realization dawning on him. "Kaito..." he said. "Your brother's name was Kaito, wasn't it?"

Akemi said nothing in response to Ryota's question. Her mind transported back to that night nearly a century ago...

She and Kaito enjoyed a fun night out at the club, free from the weight of her criminal reign.

Then the memory shifted...

Weeks had passed since that night. Now Akemi paced angrily in her office, glaring at Kenji. "A spy?" she hissed. "How could we not have known?"

Kenji kept his head bowed. "They were very careful, operating in the shadows. But recent losses suggest there is a leak."

Akemi clenched her fists. How was it possible a spy had infiltrated Crimson Rose under her very nose? She would have them exposed, no matter the cost.

"Double our security. Triple the watch on our operations. I want this rat found before they inflict further damage," Akemi commanded.

Kenji quickly took his leave, leaving Akemi alone with her thoughts. Anger rose within her at the idea of a traitor in her midst. She vowed then and there that whoever was responsible would pay dearly when their identity was finally uncovered.

The scene shifted.

Kaito lay in a hospital bed in a private lab, connected to various machines. Outside, the hustle and bustle of Tokyo in the 21st century could be heard.

A scientist in a lab coat entered, checking Kaito's vital signs on the modern monitors.

"How are you feeling today, Subject K?" the scientist asked in a clinical tone.

Kaito sighed wearily. "The same. My condition does not change."

The scientist made a note on Kaito's digital chart on an iPad. "Your experimental treatment continues, though progress is slow."

Kaito turned his gaze to the large window, watching the skyscrapers and traffic that filled the modern metropolis—a far cry from 1920s Tokyo that still lived in his memories over a century earlier.

Kaito said softly. "Over a century of slow progress, while I remain trapped here, watching history continue without me,"

The scientist paused, looking up curiously. "One hundred years... Your genetic defect has allowed you to live far beyond a normal lifespan."

Kaito smiled sadly. "At a cost. Trapped in this half-life, as the world changes around me,"

The scientist was silent, sensing Kaito's unseen depths.

Kaito continued. "I have seen empires rise and fall. Loved and lost." His expression grew troubled. "But the memory that haunts me most is the sister whose heart I broke to bring her criminal empire to justice."

The scientist listened intently as Kaito finally began to recount, after over a century of silence, the betrayal that had led to his prolonged half-life and the sister he still loved.

The scene shifted back to 1920s Tokyo.

Kaito walked down the bustling street, meticulously avoiding eye contact with anyone who might recognize him as Akemi's brother.

He approached a nondescript cafe and slid into a booth. A man in a newspaper glanced up briefly, then did a double take.

"You're late," the man said in a low voice.

"Apologies, Inspector," Kaito replied. "It is not easy to slip away unnoticed."

The inspector's expression remained grim. "The Crimson Rose yakuza clan continues to grow more ruthless. We need proof of their illegal activities if we are to bring them to justice."

Kaito nodded. "I have been gathering what evidence I can, but Akemi's security grows tighter. She suspects a spy in her ranks."

The inspector leaned forward intently. "You are our best hope of defeating her criminal empire from within. But it will mean betraying your own sister."

Kaito's expression turned troubled. While Akemi's ruthless reign sickened him, the thought of betraying his beloved sister weighed heavily on his heart.

The inspector pressed on. "Think of how many lives will be saved. How much good you can do by bringing Crimson Rose down."

Kaito bowed his head. As much as it pained him, the inspector was right. The greater good required Akemi's empire of fear and violence be brought to an end, even at the cost of his sister's love and trust.

"I will do what I must," Kaito said quietly. And so began the betrayal that would haunt him for over a century to come.

The inspector pushed back from the table and took his leave, leaving Kaito alone in the cafe booth.

For a moment, Kaito remained still and silent. Then, a cruel smile spread across his face. A cold laugh started to bubble up from within, and soon Kaito was roaring with merciless mirth, banging his fists on the table in glee.

"Fool!" he snarled to himself. "As if I care a whit about the greater good." Another peel of callous laughter burst forth. "That doddering old man thinks I betray Crimson Rose out of noble intentions?"

Kaito's laughter took on a maniacal edge. "No, no, no." He clenched his fists. "I betray my sister for one reason only—for the thrill of destroying all she has built! To watch her empire crumble and her heart break as I tear it all down."

Kaito threw back his head and cackled with sheer malevolent glee. "Soon, dear sister, your world will fall to ashes. And I will be the match that lights the flame."

His mirth died as quickly as it came. Kaito rose from the table and adjusted his coat, his face once again an emotionless mask. As he stepped back out into the bustling Tokyo streets, no one could detect the twisted darkness that lurked within his soul.

With cruel satisfaction, Kaito whispered: "For our next act together, dear Akemi, shall we set the stage... for tragedy."

And with that, Kaito disappeared into the crowd, off to begin weaving the threads that would slowly unravel his sister's empire—and break her heart in the process. All for the sole purpose of feeding his own cruel, twisted desires.