Work Text
Saturday, December 3, 2005
Katsushika
Tokyo Penitentiary
20:33
“Don’t cry for me, kyodai. There ain’t nothing worth cryin’ over, c’mon.”But once the tears started, they just wouldn’t stop. And sure, Nishiki was no stranger to a waterworks show. He’s been bawling like a baby since he was a baby. But lately, it’s been different.Lately, his chest completely seizes and caves in on itself, on the verge of collapsing, whenever he cries. Lately, it feels like static pools in his joints and there’s a bursting pressure trying to break out from in between his eyes. Lately, it feels like a little piece of his heart just withers up and dies – and he doesn’t have much heart left to give.Saejima placed a steady hand on Nishiki’s back, in between his shaking shoulders. He didn’t move. He just let his hand rest there. Such an undeservedly kind gesture would usually ground Nishiki – maybe for a minute, maybe only for a few seconds – but it did nothing now. It only reminded him of the impenetrable warmth of the man beside him. How it was all going to be gone by tomorrow.Nishiki, around the growing lump in his throat, managed to mutter out, “W-Why are you… so fucking calm about this?”“‘Cause… I am.” Saejima probably didn’t know the reason either. A beat passed. “‘Cause this was a long time comin’,” he seemed to settle on. “Can’t stop the inevitable.”Out of his peripheral, Nishiki could see Saejima lean his head against the wall, looking up at the long-darkened sky. There was a time when he would halfheartedly point out the constellations, and Nishiki would pretend to be interested. What he would do to go back in time, slap his past self, and tell him to listen. Listen when you still have the chance.Saejima’s hand gently moved up Nishiki’s back, toward his neck, until his fingers intertwined with his hair. “You’re gonna be fine,” he murmured. Nishiki wasn’t sure how Saejima could always sound so resolute. He leaned into the touch.“N-No,” Nishiki choked out. He couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking. He couldn’t even pick his head up to look at the other man.“You’re gonna be fine,” Saejima repeated, like it was nothing. His fingers slowly traveled up until they fully entangled in Nishiki’s hair. The wispy strands unraveled between his fingertips. “You’re gonna walk outta here a changed man, and it’s gonna be hard as shit—but you’re gonna make it out on the other side. You’re gonna see the light of day, find yer place in the sun, and you’re gonna be an even better man than ya were before. The world is yers.”It was easier said than done.“Just, uh…” Saejima suddenly trailed off.After the silence between them grew too long, precious minutes melting away, Nishiki finally picked his head up. Saejima’s eyes were on him. Dark, good eyes. But it took no genius to know that they had long lost their mirth – before prison, even.“Keep livin’—for me. Can ya do that?” Saejima pulled Nishiki closer, until the other’s head fully rested against his chest. “If ya do, I’ll always be with ya.”Nishiki twisted his lips. He could taste the desperate, bitter saltiness of his tears, fleeing into the corners of his mouth. He could feel his nails biting into the skin of his palms. His eyes flickered down as he whispered, “I… don’t know,” because it was the honest answer.“Can’t forgive yerself and be forgiven if ya don’t live to see it through.”
Sunday, December 4, 2005
Katsushika
Tokyo Penitentiary
12:05
“It… must be time,” Yasuko murmured. Her words were so low, beneath a whisper. Yumi wouldn’t have caught them if not for the already still silence in between them. There wasn’t even any wind out this afternoon. As if the Heavens knew not to interrupt this sacred moment.Yasuko’s hands clutched at her chest, her heart. Yumi could only watch on as she squeezed her hands over Haruka’s small shoulders. Haruka, being the smart girl that she always was, remained silent, eyes trained downward.“Do you… think… he can hear me?” Yumi was sure that Yasuko’s question wasn’t directed toward her. It was likely directed toward no one in particular. A secret between Yasuko, her brother, and God.Yasuko’s eyes remained squeezed shut. Even as tears streamed down her cheeks. Even as Yumi decided to move and take the other woman into her arms, and Haruka followed to do the same.
Sunday, December 4, 2005
Katsushika
Tokyo Penitentiary
21:00
“Got a letter, 1240.” It was haphazardly tossed into Nishiki’s cell. Obviously opened and already gone through. “That makes, what, your second letter in ten years? How about that? I think your little buddy went his whole twenty years without a single one. You’re a lucky bastard, you know.”Nishiki couldn’t hide his flinch. He just barely remembered to move his hand toward the letter. It felt like he was a puppeteer, controlling his body with detached strings from an unknown above. As if he was nowhere and just a step beyond himself.As the guard began to walk away, Nishiki found himself murmuring, “Third,” without thinking, voice hollow. It was his third letter.The guard must’ve either not heard him or ignored him.The letter only contained two lines, both addresses. One labeled “your apartment” and another for a place called “Stardust.” Both addresses were in Kamurocho. The letter wasn’t signed, but Nishiki could make a good guess on who it was from. He just didn’t understand why.If the letter was from Kazama, which it most likely was, then why? Why was he still looking out for him? Why did he want him back in Kamurocho? Was it even safe for Nishiki to be there?He carefully refolded the letter and set it aside before returning to staring at the wall, staring at nothing.
Monday, December 5, 2005
Katsushika
Tokyo Penitentiary
14:09
“Clothes.” Nishiki was handed over the same clothes that he was arrested in, sealed in a plastic storage bag. What a fucking joke. They still had blood stains on them. “Personables.” Was that even a word? “Hm…?”Nishiki fixed his eyes downward, at the bag containing his personal items. It was basically whatever pocket lint he had back in ‘95: a surely outdated cellphone, a surely emptied wallet, a surely worthless family pin. There was also the three letters he received. It shouldn’t look too out of the ordinary.The officer shook off whatever had given him pause. He handed over a sealed envelope. “Earnings.” Nishiki was half tempted to count the money, but fully tempted to just shut up and take it. The sooner he could leave, the better. “That’s it. The cab that you called is waiting outside.” The officer finally handed him a stack of signed papers with a curt nod. “Nishikiyama Akira, you’re a free man. Stay out of trouble. We don’t want you to become a familiar face.”Nishiki wasn’t even going to grace that with a response. He barely remembered to nod before he left.It was surreal, being able to simply… walk outside. Walk outside of the building. Walk down the sidewalk. Walk toward an awaiting taxicab.It made Nishiki keep checking over his shoulder. Waiting for his eyes to open and for everything to be a cruel dream. Waiting for the officer to chase after him. Wait! There’s been a mistake! Waiting for another hitman to sneak up behind him and shank him, stab him in broad daylight and let him bleed out on the street. Waiting for an assassin to shoot him from some sort of unknown vantage point, as there was no true definition of freedom.But no. There was nothing. Nishiki could reach out and touch the door of the cab. He could feel its cool metal beneath his fingertips. The scent of cigarette smoke and seat leather invaded his senses. The sound of a cheery pop song was rendered tinny by the car speakers – electronic, unfamiliar, promising.“Where to?” The cabdriver asked. This is real.“Kamurocho.” Because there was nowhere else to go.
Monday, December 5, 2005
Kamurocho
Tenkaichi Street
14:42
Kamurocho was the same but different.Same blinking neon lights. Same permeating smell of rain-soaked streets, smoke-billowing salarymen, perfume-logged streetwalkers. Same underlying tension. Same air of broken promises. It was just all underneath a new gift-wrapped veneer.The district was shinier. Even more electronic. Little black dresses, baggy gray flannels, and gaudy animal print had been replaced with colorful crop tops, slim black suits, and flashy watches and jewelry. Everyone flipped their phones open now. Everyone talked faster, moved faster. There was no hope of keeping up.Nishiki wasn’t sure how long he stood there, standing on Tenkaichi Street. It was like an out of body experience. Displaced. As if he had been cut out and pasted in the wrong place, wrong time. He wasn’t supposed to be there, standing – existing. The time for that was no longer. He was just a ghost in a shell.There was no guide on how to simply “incorporate” yourself back into society after being out of the picture for a decade. “It’s gonna be hard as shit.” That was a fucking understatement. No matter how many times Nishiki looked down at his hands – flexed his fingers in and out, clawed his nails into the skin of his palm – it didn’t feel real.If only Saejima was there to ground him.Okay, okay. What would Saejima do?What do I look like? Nishiki was sure to pick out an outfit that was both timeless yet casual. White shirt, dark jacket, dark slacks, black shoes. Nothing too ostentatious. The number one priority was to blend in, like the useless speck on the pavement that he was.He had really thought that the ‘90s would continue a downward trend of darker shades, drearier cuts, but it looked like the 2000s had re-welcomed the multicolored shitshow of the ‘80s. He felt himself slightly smirk at the thought, but the feeling was detached.Where am I? Tenkaichi Street. Where the address to “Stardust” was. Where Serena was. Was Serena still around? Was Reina still there? Probably, probably not. But Nishiki didn’t even want to look in the bar’s direction.What am I doing? Nishiki would love to know the answer for that, too. It didn’t make sense, did it? Ten years in the joint, ten years of fighting for his life, and he was back in the venomous heart of the snake pit. His ass should’ve been hiding out in Hokkaido or Okinawa or even another country, but he went back to Kamurocho.Why? Because Kazama told him to? Because he still had unfinished business? Because he wanted to—?What do I want? Nishiki… didn’t know what he wanted. He was still trapped in a blind fog.“Yo!”Nishiki blinked back into reality. His head snapped around, fight-or-flight senses already taking over and making his heart rip and tear into his chest.It was Majima.He looked more or less the same as Nishiki remembered him. Still wearing the same tacky snakeskin jacket, still walking with a showy gait. Right now, he had an umbrella slung over his shoulders.But Nishiki’s heart didn’t calm at the sight of a familiar face. Majima was always a man that was neither friend or foe, and that could sometimes be more terrifying than an outright foe – when there was no definite line drawn in the sand.Majima was nearly nose to nose with Nishiki. Too close for comfort. Nishiki was forced to look at the other man’s face – at the permanent lines that were etched into his skin, the stark red rim around his eye. His breath absolutely reeked of cigarettes, beer, and something unnameable.Nishiki tried to swallow down the bile working its way up his throat as he took a step back. Does he know about Saejima?“I fuckin’ know ya from somewhere!” Majima clicked his tongue as he began to snap his fingers, his voice rapidly and wildly raising and falling – just the way that Nishiki remembered it. “Why do ya look so fuckin’ familiar? Ooh, I know!” But the way he said it, the way his lips cracked into a manic smirk, the way his boys were lingering in the distance – he knew all along. “Kiryu-chan’s kyodai, Kazama-san’s kiddo, Ol’ Man Dojima’s nail in the coffin: the Kin Slayer.” He butted the handle of his umbrella into Nishiki’s stomach. “Nishikiyama Akira.”A beat passed between them. Was Majima waiting for him to say something? What was Nishiki supposed to say?The guy beat his ass back in ‘88, when shit hit the fan, and he had some sort of weird ass… “kinship” with Kiryu throughout the ‘90s – something that Nishiki wasn’t a part of. He didn’t try to understand them, because something had shifted within Majima and he became something that wasn’t worth understanding. So, he never got into Majima. Just paid his so-called respects whenever they crossed paths here and there.But now, ten years past, and Nishiki had somehow linked up with Majima’s kyodai in jail. Who was executed yesterday. Does he know about Saejima? He had to know, didn’t he?What if Nishiki said something? Would Majima lose his shit and beat him to death with his umbrella? Call his boys to get some licks in, too? Cut his head off and take it to the clan headquarters?“What should I do with ya, huh?” Majima pursed his lips as he jabbed at Nishiki with his umbrella. “I could turn yer ass in to the chairman. Bet I could get a pretty penny if he remembers ya. What’re ya worth? One thousand yen?” He held the handle of the umbrella underneath Nishiki’s chin, forcing his head up. “One million yen? One billion yen?” He snickered.Nishiki choked on the inhale. “Majima…”“Eh?” Majima frowned. He closed the distance between them again. “Speak up! I can’t fuckin’ hear ya!” His lips were twisting. “Hm. Or I could keep ya for myself.” He swept the umbrella across Nishiki’s hair, pushing it over his shoulders. “I got a thing for pretty boys with long hair, y’know. Ya probably was everybody’s little prison bitch, huh? Wouldn’t be nothing new to ya.”Nishiki held his breath.“I’m not gonna lie,” Majima continued, “one billion yen would be pretty fuckin’ nice.” Only he could make a sing-song tone sound so menacing. “But fightin’ Kiryu-chan would be even better!” He suddenly cackled. Nishiki flinched back. “I bet’cha Kiryu-chan would come outta his stuffy little office the second he knew that I had ya! He’d throw down with me for sure! How about that, fellas?!” Majima laughed again, the sound echoing through the streets, as he turned toward his family. “We deserve to let off a little steam before the fireworks show, right? Pack his ass up and take him to Kiryu-chan,” he turned back around, “and then we’re gonn—Eh?!”Majima looked left, right, up, down. But nope. Nishikiyama was gone. The goddamn weasel magically vanished into thin air.“Where’d he go?!” Majima pointed the end of his umbrella to his nearest man. “Why’d ya let him outta my sight, huh? How am I gonna get one last fight in with Kiryu-chan now?!” And he lashed the umbrella across the man’s head, breaking it in the process.
Monday, December 5, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
14:50
Nishiki must have checked over his shoulder at least ten times. It was a miracle that he even managed to get away. Thank God that Majima was too distracted working up a hate chub for Kiryu to notice that he had ran off into the nearest building – Stardust.Everything always went according to Kazama’s plan, more or less.It was still only the afternoon, right after lunch, so there expectedly weren’t too many attendants in the club. Still, Nishiki’s panic was going through the roof. The dizzying lights and swirling music weren’t helping.“Welcome, si—Oh!”Nishiki shot his head up again. No. This wasn’t good for his heart. Why didn’t he just change his name and run off to Sapporo or something? Fucking stupid.The man that called out to him was wearing a burgundy suit. He had a squared jaw and greasy, dyed hair. Maybe Nishiki would’ve looked like him in another life outside of the cell. That thought gave him a shudder.“Are you Nishikiyama Akira?” The man asked. Nishiki didn’t speak, didn’t move. “‘Cause, uh,” the man scratched the back of his head, “Kazuki-san told me to look out for a guy that looked like you. Said you’d be… important.” The way the guy said “important,” it was shrouded in intrigue. The kind of intrigue that suggested something more on the curious side than the malicious side. But it wasn’t like Nishiki’s mind could tell much of the difference anymore.“Yuya,” another voice called out. Nishiki’s eyes shot up. Coming down the stairs was another man. Hair also dyed, but a little less greasy. He was wearing a decent white suit. Had a crucifix pendant on display on his chest. “Who is this?”Yuya, apparently, gave a quick nod to the approaching man. “Kazuki-san.” Nishiki was going to assume that Kazuki was the boss. “Is this the man you were telling me about?”When Kazuki reached the bottom of the stairs, he gave Nishikiyama an obvious onceover. If not for the high possibility of the Majima Family scouting the streets for him, Nishiki honestly probably would have bolted again. Being scrutinized – always bad.Kazuki seemed satisfied with whatever he was looking for. He bowed toward Nishiki. Yuya bowed in tandem. “A pleasure to meet you, Nishikiyama-san. Welcome to Stardust.” He directed his hand toward the stairway before making his way back up. Yuya followed after.Nishiki could feel his nails scrape against his palms.Kazuki looked down, already toward the top of the stairs, once he finally realized that Nishiki wasn’t following after. “Nishikiyama-san…?”Nishiki couldn’t keep eye contact with the man. Misplaced. Everything was misplaced. This couldn’t be permitted. He couldn’t simply just speak to people from the waking world.Kazuki and Yuya glanced at each other. Yuya made some sort of slight shrugging gesture. Kazuki nodded.“Nishikiyama-san,” Kazuki called out again. “I…” He cleared his throat. He tossed another quick look toward Yuya before he descended the stairs again. He took a tight step toward Nishiki and lowered his voice. “Kazama-san told me that you would be coming today. I’m sure that we both would like to speak about this privately. The upstairs lounge would provide us with the privacy that we need.” The man had a formal yet straightforward way of speaking. But did that matter? Hidden agendas could be stuffed anywhere.“How… do you know Kazama-no-oyasan?”Kazuki’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh,” he murmured. “Excuse me.” He took a small step closer. “Kazama-san took me under his wing ever since I opened up Stardust. He helped me build this place from the ground up. All without the need for… certain affiliated businesses.” Just a fancy way of saying the business that starts with a Y. “He only had a single request for me: to invite you as a member of our staff.”So, Kazama set him up with both a job and a place to stay? Expected yet unexpected. It would’ve been a lot easier if Kazama just threw Nishiki away like everyone else. But he wanted him here, in Kamurocho. Within arm’s reach. Why?“You are free to decline the offer. And you don’t have to speak with me, either. But Kazama-san asked for me to give some things to you.” Kazuki gestured toward the stairs again. “If you will.”Nishiki sucked in a breath before he moved to follow.Kazuki directed him to sit, but he just couldn’t. Kazuki didn’t seem too perturbed with standing, though. “Would you like something to drink?” Nishiki didn’t answer. Still, Kazuki turned to Yuya. “Could you bring Nishikiyama-san something to drink, please? A glass of water will be fine.”“Yes, sir.” And Yuya made his way back downstairs.Kazuki walked over to the other side of the lounge, and then returned with a small black bag. He pulled out a key and a cellphone. It was a white flip phone with a small screen on its front. Nishiki allowed the other man to drop the items in his hands. He tucked them in his pocket.“Would you like to hear about Kazama-san, Kiryu-san, and Kashiwagi-san?”Nishiki answered, “Sure,” but he didn’t really mean it.“Kazama-san is the Captain of the Tojo Clan now.” No surprises there. It was actually a little surprising that Kazama hadn’t become the Fourth Chairman over the past ten years. Looks like Sera was still kicking around. “Kiryu-san is the Third Patriarch of the Dojima Family and the CEO of Iron Trust.” Kiryu, a CEO? This had to be a dream, surely. “And Kashiwagi-san is the Second Patriarch of the Kazama Family and Captain of the Dojima Family.” So, Kiryu was the Dojima patriarch instead of Kashiwagi? Well, Kashiwagi preferred to work behind the scenes. Nishiki guessed it made sense.How did it feel? Knowing that his chosen family rose up the ranks of the Tojo Clan without him? Knowing that they all achieved Nishiki’s dream without him?It felt like shit, suffice to say. It felt like a hand had tightly squeezed around his heart, and was squeezing and squeezing until it bled out, until there was no space left to breathe. Until sorrow and envy became one and the same. It made his eyes burn, but Nishiki still had a scrap of pride left not to cry in front of a stranger.Silence brewed in between them. Nishiki could hear Kazuki let out a small breath, but the white noise in his head drowned out any possible sentiment behind the sound.Nishiki flicked his head to the stairs. Someone was running up. Yuya was back, holding a tray with a glass of water. “Nishikiyama.” He nodded. “Sorry for the wait.”Nishiki shook his head. He had to get out of here. He moved to brush past Yuya.“Nishikiyama-san,” Kazuki called out. Nishiki stopped, but didn’t turn to look at the other man. “I cannot begin to understand what you have gone through, but… it is understandable if you find it difficult to trust other people.” Nishiki felt his shoulders tense. “I would just like for you to know that Stardust is a safe space and you are welcome here any time. A friend of your oyasan is a friend of mine.”Nishiki didn’t know what to say to that. So, he didn’t say anything.
Monday, December 5, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
15:09
The apartment was just outside of the district, toward the north. Reminded Nishiki of where Kiryu used to live back in the ‘80s, in a little shabby apartment that served its purpose: a place to drink and sleep – nothing more, nothing less.It was one room. Four white walls. Bed in one corner. A small dresser and smaller TV in another corner. A low table in the center. Kitchenette. Bathroom. That was it.There was a small black box near the bed. Nishiki triple checked, quadruple checked that the door was locked before he went over to it.The box contained two envelopes, a tanto, a gun, and plenty of boxes of ammunition. One envelope was significantly heavier than the other. Nishiki started with the lighter one. It was from Kazama, and was actually signed by him this time.
Ten years. In the ten years that you’ve been away, the Tojo Clan has changed. We have changed. Myself, Kashiwagi, and Kazuma have changed. You have also surely changed.
There are still Dojima Family members and other Tojo Clan members who hold a grudge against you, or wish to use you as a means of monetary gain and social stratification. Third Chairman Sera had initially offered a large reward for your death after your arrest. I am sure that there are still some clan members who remember this reward or have heard of it over time. Therefore, I have provided you with means of self-defense. I am sure that there are people who have caught wind of your release date, but no one knows of your return to Kamurocho for now – as long as you keep your head down.
Myself, Kashiwagi, and Kazuma, as especially high-ranking members of the Tojo Clan and the Dojima Family, cannot be publicly affiliated or associated with you. Still, there is much to discuss that cannot be contained within the confines of a simple letter. Stardust and Kazuki will be used as a means of communication. If you wish to speak with us, contact Kazuki and it can be arranged. In-person meetings must be conducted in secret, and preferably outside of Kamurocho.
I hope to see you soon, Akira.
Nishiki’s hands had long gone numb before he set the letter down. Kazama only called him “Akira” when he wanted something.The other envelope only read “Welcome home” on its backside. And that handwriting. Nishiki still recognized Kiryu’s handwriting after all of these years. It didn’t change.There was no letter inside of the envelope. Only a hefty stack of yen.Finally, within the confines of his own “home,” Nishiki could break down and cry.
Sunday, June 19, 1983
Fuchu
Sunflower Orphanage
13:03
Nishiki was fourteen-ongoing-fifteen. Kiryu was fifteen. Even back then, he felt like he was always playing catch up. He just didn’t want to believe it yet.They had gotten into an argument over something that Nishiki didn’t even remember anymore. It was something that he had been crying about. He had been facedown in his bed, eyes pressed tightly against the crook of his arm, trying to will the tears away. Because it was dumb. So dumb. Kiryu doesn’t cry all the time, why can’t I?It had been especially hot that day. The aircon unit was at full power, with the little paper streamers attached to the vents fluttering like crazy. But it still wasn’t enough. The room was sticky and sinking.“Nishiki.” Nishiki’s body seized up. He hadn’t been expecting for Kiryu to come back so soon after storming off. “Nishiki,” Kiryu called out again. Nishiki refused to pick his head up. He hated when Kiryu saw him like this.There was something cold pressing against his shoulder.Nishiki turned and peeked one eye out over his arm. It was a popsicle. The blue soda Gari Gari-kun kind that only one convenience store up the street sold. His favorite.“T-Thanks,” Nishiki muttered out. He swiped his arm over his eyes as he sat up.Kiryu sat on the other end of the bed. Nishiki ate in silence. A reluctant truce for now.It was in that moment when Nishiki realized he didn’t know exactly how he felt about Kiryu. The thought had twisted his stomach, so he ignored it and offered Kiryu a bite of the popsicle instead.
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
2:42
24-hour stores were God’s gift to Earth, and inflation was the Devil’s.Maybe Nishiki, all cried out, had made an empty, little joke to the exhausted cashier about the fact. He didn’t remember. He more so remembered clutching one hand around his tanto as he walked around the store, then picked up a brand of cigarettes and a box of beer that were adjacent to his old favorites. Everything was the same but different. It was like having double vision. It was going to drive him crazy. Or, crazier.It was when Nishiki had gone through half of the pack of cigarettes when he decided that he was going to die.“I’m sorry, Saejima,” he murmured around his cigarette. Could he hear him? Hopefully not.What was the point? Being openly ostracized by his own family, constantly looking over his shoulder in a district that was out for his head on a stick – this was no life to live. There could only be an empty semblance of one. It was all a cruel joke.He had no one left. Yuko was gone. Who knew how Reina felt. Yumi probably didn’t want to see him ever again. He would remind her too much of that night. That night that had ruined all of their lives.He found his eyes returning to the tanto he had set on the floor, near the gun.
What do I want?
Just one last time. Even if it fucking killed him, he wanted to see every one just one last time. To apologize to them. He wasn’t looking for forgiveness. That was out of the question. He just wouldn’t be able to face Yuko or Saejima if he was completely bound by regrets.Reina, Yumi, Kashiwagi, Kazama, and Kiryu. One last time. That was the one thing he wanted. And maybe if he got the courage, he could fulfill Saejima’s last wishes, too. And then he could go to Yuko’s grave, use the tanto that Kazama had given him to slit his stomach open, and it would be the end.Nishiki stubbed out his cigarette on the makeshift ashtray he had made out of an emptied beer can. It sounded like a plan.There was a knock on the door.The gun was in Nishiki’s hands before he could even blink. Who the hell would be knocking on his door at two a.m. unless they had bad intentions? (Well. People with worse intentions would probably just break the door down and not even bother with knocking.)Nishiki couldn’t move, didn’t dare himself to breathe. He sat in the center of the room, eyes never leaving the door. His heart skipped a beat at the sound of the second knock. It sounded… hesitant. Why?“Nishikiyama-kun?” A voice called out, muffled by the door. He dropped the gun. “Are you there? It’s me, Reina.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
2:53
Nishiki was going to drop dead from heart failure before anyone could kill him. He was sure of it.“Nishikiyama-kun…?” Reina called out again. Even though the door separated them and muffled her voice, she still sounded the same. The same calming tone, the same ringing timbre.“Reina,” Nishiki whispered. She surely couldn’t hear him.Isn’t this what he wanted? To see Reina one last time? Why was the thought of facing her so terrifying.There was a slight shuffling sound. Maybe she was moving to walk away. Without thinking, in a half-crawl, Nishiki found himself racing toward the door. “Reina,” he called out. Again, “Reina,” in case she hadn’t heard him. He could barely hear himself.“N-Nishikiyama-kun?” He could hear it more clearly, her footsteps returning toward the door. “Is… that really you?”Nishiki pressed his hand against the cold wood of the door. “It’s me.” Maybe she let out a breath. It was lost in between them. “How’d… you find me?”It sounded like she took a step closer. “I asked Kiryu to give me your address. Well, I kept asking until he gave it to me. I… wanted to see you again.”“You wanted to see me? Really?” Nishiki let out a small laugh. Humorless, too full of disbelief. It was suddenly all too easy to give into bitterness. “I thought you forgot about me like the rest of them. You never sent me a letter.”A beat passed. Then, “I did.” Her voice was smaller. Obviously stunned, obviously pained. “I sent you as many letters as I could, Nishikiyama-kun. At least once a month.”“No. I only got three—and none of them were from you.” Reina didn’t deserve this. He knew that. But his brain was fucked and would aimlessly skip around sometimes. It only worked against him now. Sadness became anger too easily. Anger became sadness too easily.“I’m… sorry that you never received them.” She paused again. “Kiryu-chan once told me that it is difficult to get letters through Tokyo Penitentiary. He… also advised for me to not associate with you, that it would be dangerous—but… I sent you letters, anyway. You must’ve been so lonely, Nishikiyama-kun. I’m so sorry.”“Don’t… Don’t apologize, Reina.” Hopefully the unwarranted acid in his throat would seep back down to his stomach. “How the hell did I get Yuko’s letter and Kazama-no-oyasan’s letter?” he wondered aloud.“I… don’t know.” Because, of course, how was Reina supposed to know? “Perhaps Kazama-san used his influence to get his letter through? I am unsure about Yuko-san, though.” Made sense. “Nishikiyama-kun, can… I come in?”No.No. Reina couldn’t see him. Not like this.He wasn’t who he used to be, in more ways than one. His hand moved from the door to his neck, his face, automatically tracing over the scars. The severed stub of his left little finger was a permanent reminder that nothing was the same.“Nishikiyama-kun? I’m… I’m not leaving until I see you again. Please.” At least Reina still put her foot down when she wanted to.“It’s… not good.”“Hm?”“Me. My… face,” Nishiki choked out.“I-It’s fine.”“It’s not.” He had to tear his hand away from himself. He could trace over where he had become more scar tissue than skin for hours if he didn’t stop himself.“Nishikiyama-kun. Please. I’ll…” Her voice suddenly came out in a rush, “Please, just this once. I want—I need to see you. You’ll never have to see me or speak to me again afterwards. But—I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you when you’re so close to me after so long. Please.”“Alright, alright.” Nishiki forced his voice to be light. “Don’t gotta be so dramatic about it, Reina.” But Nishiki was bracing himself, too. He had to force his hand to curl around the doorknob. “Just… Don’t scream when you see me. I warned you,” he tried to joke, but his voice fell flat.He heard her say, “Thank you,” as he turned the knob.He could feel the cold December air sweep in and brush against his face. A sweet, floral scent settled in front of him. Reina still used the same perfume.With a deep breath, Nishiki allowed himself to look at Reina’s face. She was already looking at his.She was trying but failing not to trace her eyes along the scars on his face, that trailed down his neck, disappeared into his clothes. He tried not to focus on that, though – lest he lose his courage and lock himself inside forever.He tried to focus on her. Reina looked the same, as always. If she had looked the same from the ‘80s to the ‘90s, why would now be any different? She still wore the same work clothes: white top, black bottoms. Maybe she had closed up shop and ran over as soon as she heard he was back. The thought didn’t make Nishiki feel better, though.“Nishikiyama-kun,” she whispered. Her eyes hadn’t moved from his face. It was too much. Her hand slowly lifted and then quickly returned to her side.Do it, Nishiki told his mind. Stop being a fucking coward. Do it. His brain was going to yell at him later. His hands would probably shake later. But he owed it to her. He owed it to Reina.He took her hand into his and gently pulled her in. He had to close the door. His mind wouldn’t leave him alone until the door was closed.“Nishikiyama-kun,” she repeated, more wavery. “I didn’t think that I would ever see you again.” Her trembling hand enclosed over his.“Me neither,” he confessed. Because he had lost count of the amount of times he could’ve died – by anyone’s hand, by his own hand.“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. Her voice was watery.“Stop apologizing. I should be the one saying sorry.”She shook her head. “It must’ve been hard. You’ve must’ve been through a lot.” She turned away, but Nishiki had already caught sight of the tears escaping her eyes. “I-I’m so sorry. Whenever I thought about you, I would just…” She covered her hand over her mouth.Nishiki didn’t know what to say. What happened to the days when talking to Reina was the easiest thing in the world? When hours could go by without either of them even realizing it? What happened to the days when he would spot a pair of gold hoop earrings in a display window and he would think of her and didn’t even realize he was smiling? What happened to—?He gathered her into his arms before his mind could full-on spiral. His own eyes burned, too.“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she gave in then. He could hear her quiet cries pressed into his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I fucked everything up.” He didn’t know how many times he said it. Until he couldn’t stop his own tears. Until they both found themselves collapsed in each other’s arms, collapsing to the floor.Through her sobs, he might have heard her say, “You’re here. You’re home,” but he was unsure.
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
3:24
“Are you hungry?”“Eh?”“You haven’t had a homecooked meal in a very long time. I could make something for you.”“Reina, you don’t have to—”“Come on. I’m sure you’ll feel a lot better.”“Ugh. Fine, I guess.”“Are you craving anything in particular?”Nishiki said the first thing that came to mind: “Curry rice.” Because whenever the nights got too long, he would think about the shitty curry that Kiryu would make for them when they were kids. Prison made you miss the craziest things.
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
4:28
The smell of curry roux filled the small space of the apartment. Nishiki was mindlessly flipping through channels as he lit up another cigarette. He wasn’t sure if it was just him or if new TV shows really were too loud, too bright.He settled on a familiar news station that was just signing on. It must have been around four or five in the morning, then. You could count on the news not to change. Nishiki had watched this particular station back in the day because it was the only news channel with the balls to cover shit about the yakuza. Called out families by name, too. Had to respect it.“Reina,” he called out.“Mm?”“What’ve you been up to?”“Hm, nothing new. My life was never meant to be too exciting.” Nishiki looked behind his shoulder at Reina. She was idly stirring. “I still work at Serena. It looks the same.” She softly chuckled. “I should really renovate it one of these days.”“Yeah? I gotta visit sometime.” It was an empty promise. Nishiki flicked his cigarette in the ashtray that Reina had just bought for him. (“Reina. Seriously. You didn’t have to—” But she refused to take it back. She said to think of it as a housewarming gift.) “How’s business?”“The same as usual.” She shrugged. “Some days are fast, some days are slow.”“So, you…” Time to bite the bullet. “You still talk to Kiryu?”“Sometimes,” she hummed. “Kiryu-chan is very busy now and days. He’s difficult to get a hold of. He still took the time to schedule a meeting with me so that I could ask for your address, though.” She looked up at him. “Have you spoken to him yet?”“No.” Nishiki shook his head. “You’re the first one I’ve talked to.” Well, barred Majima. Majima didn’t really count, though.“Mm. Well, Kiryu-chan has a floor in the Millennium Tower. Ah, the Millennium Tower was built while you were… gone. Where the Empty Lot was located.” The fucking irony. The blood, sweat, and tears that they shed over that damn piece of land – just for Kiryu to play CEO in the very same building built on top of it.“What about everybody else? Yumi can’t still be working at Serena, right?” Reina’s shoulders stiffened. Shit. Dumb joke. It would always be too soon.“Yumi moved away four years ago.” Reina sighed before she continued stirring. “No one knows where she is now.”“Oh yeah?” Kamurocho was a hellhole. Seemed like Yumi was the only one sensible enough to pack up and leave it behind. “Maybe it’s for the better.”“Maybe. I assumed that it was for Yumi-chan and Haruka-chan’s safety,” Reina murmured. “I’m sure that Kiryu-chan is the only one who knows where they are, but he refuses to say where. I was surprised that he gave me your address for that reason, actually.”“Huh? Why would only Kiryu know where Yumi is?” Nishiki took another puff from his cigarette. Talking about Kiryu felt like talking about a ghost. Say his name too many times, and he’ll be summoned. “And who’s ‘Haruka’? Was she another girl working for you or something?”Reina set her saibashi aside as she fully faced Nishiki. “Nishikiyama-kun,” she started, voice low. Fuck. He didn’t like her tone. “Haruka is Kiryu and Yumi’s daughter.”Nishiki dropped his cigarette.“Kiryu and Yumi got married in 1996.” A year after Nishiki got locked up. One fucking year later. “After you were gone, Kiryu-chan got his own family and began to rise through the ranks of the Tojo Clan.” Reina’s eyes flickered downward. “As he did, there were a lot of… upset people. Many people threatened and attacked him, Yumi-chan, and Haruka-chan. I believe that’s why they got a divorce. And then, Yumi-chan and Haruka-chan ‘disappeared,’ and Kiryu restructured the Kiryu Family into his business, Iron Trust. This was all around 2001. And—”Enough. Nishiki didn’t want to hear about this shit anymore.“Is the food ready?” he cut in.Reina blinked. “Almost. Just a few more minutes.”
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
4:40
Nishiki must have eaten two or three plates. “Thanks, Reina. Your curry is pretty damn good.” He made her another plate, too.“It’s nothing,” she brushed it off.They were seated across each other on the floor. The TV still hummed on as background noise. The homecooked meal. The surprise ashtray. The warming air in between them. It wasn’t deserved.“Reina.” Reina paused. Her spoon was halfway poised. “You didn’t have to do this.”“It’s fine, Nishikiyama-kun.” She gave a small smile before she brought the spoon to her mouth.“No. Just. You being here, being around me—it’s dangerous. Can’t be around a guy like me. The murderer, the banished yakuza. I’m like a bad omen now.” Nishiki tried to force himself to smile, but – again – the joke didn’t land.Reina set her spoon aside. She folded her hands over the table as she looked down. “Yumi… told me what happened that night. You don’t deserve the reputation that you’ve garnered: the Kin Slayer. I hate it.” Her words were so low, voice as steady as always, but the emotion was palpable. “I hated hearing people talk about you. I hated the rumors. Some people believed that you killed out of jealousy for Dojima or Kiryu. And, above all, I hated that I couldn’t say anything.” Her nails scratched across the table as her hands tightened. “I hated that I had to bite my tongue. But it wasn’t my place to tell Yumi’s story. So, I would have to constantly listen to people lie—even though I knew the truth. It…” She shook her head.That was the crux of it all. The only way the truth could be revealed: through Yumi. And it wasn’t a story that should be openly shared with the world.“Reina,” he called out again. Reina fixed her gaze unto him. “Tell me, am I different now?”Her lips briefly quivered. “No.” He knew she would say that.“Be honest with me, Reina. I know I am.”Her eyes. They had been so sad the entire time. It was easy to imagine what was going through her head right now. She was probably thinking back to a simpler time, too. When all Nishiki had to do was knock a couple of heads together, buy a new suit, sip a couple of drinks at Serena, dream about rising up to the top, and call it a day.Why had fate been so cruel to them?After a long moment, she seemed to finally settle on, “You’re quieter.” And left it at that.They continued to eat in silence. The warming air in between them quickly waned down.Reina turned to the TV. Probably wanted to train her eyes on something that wasn’t the elephant in the room. Understandable. Nishiki was a little hard to look at.She suddenly gasped. Nishiki glanced at her before he looked at the TV.“Breaking news,” the newscaster said. “An explosion has reportedly occurred around five minutes ago in the alleged Shibata Family office. The Majima Family was also allegedly seen near the site of the explosion and are believed to be the perpetrators. We’ll have more details as the story develops.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
DATE: 1996 February 2 (Friday)
TO: To Whom It May Concern, Tokyo Penitentiary
FROM: Senior Correctional Officer A, Tokyo Prison
REQUEST: Transfer a high-risk prisoner from Tokyo Prison to Tokyo Penitentiary
I am a senior correctional officer currently employed in Tokyo Prison. I am forty-three years old and I have been working in Tokyo Prison for the past twenty-three years. I wish to keep my identity anonymous, but I will personally address any further inquiries with my transfer request need be. I would like to request for a high-risk prisoner to be transferred from Tokyo Prison to Tokyo Penitentiary. This request is urgent. It would be advantageous to reply to this letter as soon as possible.The prisoner’s name is Nishikiyama Akira. Nishikiyama was formerly a member of the Dojima Family underneath the Tojo Clan. He is estimated to be a member since at least the mid- to late 1980s. On the first of October in 1995, Nishikiyama murdered his patriarch, Dojima Sohei. The motive is believed to be jealousy over Dojima’s high position within the Tojo Clan, although Nishikiyama had refused to speak during his initial interrogations, refused to give a confession, and refused to testify and to defend himself during trial. He was sentenced to ten years in prison for first-degree murder and has been incarcerated within Tokyo Prison since November 1995.Since November 1995, Nishikiyama has been involved in multiple physical altercations. It was not uncommon for Nishikiyama to become involved in physical altercations once he entered public areas within the prison, which has sometimes resulted in grievous bodily harm for both Nishikiyama and the attackers.On the third of December in 1995, Nishikiyama was given a new cellmate, _________, following a physical altercation with a former cellmate that resulted in Nishikiyama obtaining a broken nose. Nishikiyama initially did not enter into any physical nor verbal altercations with _________. It was assumed that Nishikiyama had even maintained a friendly relationship with _________, as the two prisoners would eat, work, exercise, and spend their free time together throughout December 1995.But on the thirtieth of January in 1996, at around 20:00, _________ attempted to murder Nishikiyama in their shared cell. Nishikiyama later accounted to the junior correctional officer who first responded to the scene that _________ suddenly physically assaulted him while he slept. _________ attempted to slash Nishikiyama’s throat with a knife that had been snuck into the prison. The two prisoners entered into a physical altercation, waking the cellmates to their left. During this altercation, _________ crushed Nishikiyama’s left little finger with his foot, and then severely wounded the little finger with the knife at its middle joint, managing to completely sever the little finger. (It was later completely amputated once Nishikiyama sought medical services.) Nishikiyama obtained the upper hand in the altercation by grabbing _________’s knife and slitting his throat with it. It is assumed that the carotid artery was severed, as _________ was accounted by Nishikiyama to die within seconds. When officers responded to the scene, Nishikiyama was in a hysterical, seemingly regretful, state. He later entered a catatonic state once he was taken in for interrogation.Nishikiyama was informed by our officers in confidence that _________ was a contract killer allegedly employed by various yakuza organizations. _________ has managed to sneak into various prisons throughout Tokyo, including both Tokyo Prison and Tokyo Penitentiary, and has murdered an estimated count of at least thirty to forty inmates. We informed Nishikiyama that we would prevent him from earning an additional murder charge and from being sent to the Tokyo District Courthouse so that we may cover our negligence of allowing _________ to sneak into our prison for the umpteenth time, which we have been reprimanded for multiple times by both our warden and the Tokyo District Courthouse. Due to Nishikiyama being a high security risk, we have selected for him to be transferred to Tokyo Penitentiary due to its more than sufficient level of security.Nishikiyama has an alleged “bounty” placed on him by the Tojo Clan due to him murdering a patriarch. Because of this, multiple current and former yakuza members and affiliates have attempted to murder him and-or enter physical altercations with him. We believe that Tokyo Penitentiary could benefit from keeping Nishikiyama as a prisoner because he has a high potential of attracting the yakuza affiliate member that you have been searching for, who I shall not name – though I am certain we are both well aware of who this person is.Take care. Please respond urgently.Thank you for your time.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
6:00
“Ah, Haruka,” Yumi smoothed down the front of Haruka’s hair, “you can’t eat soba for breakfast.”Haruka wasn’t perturbed. Her eyebrows even slightly furrowed in determination as she spooned the finishing touches of sliced daikon onto the three bowls of soba. “We only have soba,” she said. “And they eat soba for breakfast in Shikoku! I saw that on TV once.” Maybe it was because Haruka’s voice was so sweet and endearing, and maybe it was because Yumi would forever be charmed by her daughter, but Haruka’s words didn’t come across as backtalk – though she was as stubborn as her father, and her stubbornness even came through over trivial matters, such as breakfast.Yumi playfully pinched Haruka’s ear. Her ears still stuck out through her hair. She’ll grow into them in a few years, Yumi mused. “I just think that soba is too heavy for breakfast.” She accepted the bowl that Haruka offered, anyway. “Thank you, Haruka.”The meal admittedly looked lighter than the typical varieties of soba served for lunch or dinner. Haruka had only added a poached egg and daikon to the noodles, with some shredded nori mostly for garnish. She had added a little too much salt, but it was forgivable. She made the entire meal by herself without Yumi having to step in to help. A little too much salt wouldn’t hurt.Haruka set a bowl beside Yumi, in front of the counter’s third empty seat. “Is Yasuko-san going to eat with us?” Haruka took her own bowl and seat.Yumi pinched Haruka’s ear again, just because she could. “Why did you make three bowls if you didn’t know whether or not Yasuko would eat with us?”Haruka pouted as she murmured, “Just in case…”As if right on cue, the front door opened. Haruka immediately straightened up in her seat. The familiar click-clack of Yasuko’s work heels echoed from the foyer, but there was a pause, as if she was lingering in the doorway. Yumi lowered her chopsticks.After a few minutes passed, and no sound came from the entryway, Yumi excused herself and walked to the door. She could feel Haruka’s eyes trail after her, though she only nodded and continued eating.Yasuko was indeed standing in the doorway, and she looked shaken.“Yasuko,” Yumi whispered, as Haruka had a tendency to eavesdrop (again, just like her father), “what’s wrong?”“H-Have you seen the news?” Thankfully, Yasuko’s voice was naturally hushed.“The news?” Yumi shook her head. “Did something happen?” Yumi was expecting something like a major traffic jam or an accident, but that just showed how naïve she had grown, how comfortable she had grown within the so-called “perfect” bubble that Kiryu had placed her in. The way that Yasuko’s face suddenly paled whisked away such foolish thoughts, anyway.Yasuko’s eyes wouldn’t stop swimming, completely unfocused. Yumi carefully laid her hands on the other woman’s shoulders. Yasuko was a timid creature. It always took a little bit – or, a lot of bit – of coaxing when it came to her.“Yasuko,” Yumi made her voice as soft as possible, “what happened? Was it something with…?” Yumi didn’t need to finish the question. Yasuko understood, because she shakily nodded. A lump was already forming in the center of Yumi’s throat. She pushed through, “What is it?”Yasuko began to wring her hands together. “Um… The Shibata Family…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “The Shibata Family office—explosion… an hour ago…”Yumi tried to piece it together. “There was… an explosion at a family office?” Yasuko shakily nodded again.“It was… I-It was by the Majima Family…”Yumi could feel her heart drop. Sure, the Majima Family was full of troublemakers – and masochists, if they were willing to work with someone like the borderline sadistic Majima Goro – but they hadn’t deliberately blown up another family’s office before. This was new.“W-What—?” Yumi cleared her throat. “What happened? How do you know this?” It was another dumb question. Yumi knew that Yasuko kept her ear close to the happenings of Kamurocho and the Tojo Clan, while Yumi had taken Kiryu’s advice that ignorance was bliss to heart.“The less you know, the better.” Like Yumi and Haruka were just pieces of collateral damage to sweep under the rug.“Um…” Yasuko shook her head to herself. “I-I saw it on the news. I… Yumi-san… I, um…”Yasuko looked seconds away from shutting down. Yumi quickly relocated her hands to the sides of Yasuko’s face, which made the other woman’s eyes shoot open and immediately connect with hers. Only momentarily, because Yasuko was too polite, too shy for eye contact. But it was enough.“Are you worried?” Yumi guessed. “About Majima?”“S-Shibata… and the Ueno Seiwa Clan… I-I’m scared. I…” Yumi could practically feel Yasuko’s pulse quickening. “Majima-san… I-I’m scared. I am worried about him, yes. With my brother… g-gone, and—I’m scared Majima-san is going to be reckless and get himself killed, to… to get revenge for my brother.” She closed her eyes again. Her breath suddenly stilled. “I have to stop him.”Yumi quickly shook her head. “Wouldn’t that also be reckless, Yasuko?”Yasuko took a step back, letting Yumi’s hands fall from her. “He’s the only family I have left,” she whispered.“I… understand that, but… it’s too dangerous.”What if Majima really was declaring war out of revenge for Saejima? Yumi could recall all of the threats and assassination attempts against Kiryu. She couldn’t imagine what an outright, full-fledged war would be like – especially with someone like Majima at the helm, a man who was a little more demon than human. She couldn’t imagine what he would be like with a vendetta imprinted on his skin, with grief overflooding his senses.But Yasuko was grieving, too. Both she and Majima had lost a brother yesterday. One that they hadn’t seen for twenty years. Yumi couldn’t imagine what they were going through, but she understood. She racked her mind for some type of solution, anything – anything to stop Yasuko from plunging herself into the line of fire. Yasuko was a timid creature, but she was also a determined one.An idea popped into Yumi’s mind. “We can call Kazuma!” She hastily grabbed Yasuko by the arm and pulled her into the apartment, barely giving Yasuko enough time to take off her shoes before she stepped out of the genkan.“W-We can?” Yasuko’s words were too layered with disbelief. It was understandable, too.“We can!” Yumi still said. She flashed Haruka a surely tight-lipped smile as she passed by her on the way to the telephone. “I’ll call him right now, alright?” Yasuko paused before nodding.“Good morning, Yasuko-san.” Haruka lightly tugged on Yasuko’s uniform sleeve. “I made breakfast for you.” Maybe Haruka had overheard them despite Yumi’s best efforts. Haruka’s eyes and voice were soft and soothing.Yasuko nodded as she took her usual seat at the counter. “T-Thank you, Haruka.” Her hands shook as she picked up her pair of chopsticks. Haruka continued to talk to her, about how she prepared the noodles and what she was going to do at school today, as Yasuko nodded here and there – not talking, eyes downcast. Yumi took it as an opportunity to dial Kiryu’s number.Kiryu… It was complicated. From the beginning to the end, Kiryu was complicated. But the one thing about Kiryu that was resolute, that never changed, was that he would always be there for Yumi and Haruka, no matter what. He was endlessly busy, especially now and days with balancing both the Dojima Family and his business, but he always picked up the phone if he knew that Yumi was calling.Such as now. “Yumi? What’s wrong?” Kiryu’s voice was tense, and it sounded like there were panicked shouts in the background.“Nothing’s wrong. Are you okay, Kazuma?” Yumi couldn’t help but ask. When was the last time she had spoken to him? It must have been weeks, nearing months now. And she tended to only call him whenever she really needed help, which she tried to make few and far between.“Yeah,” he grunted out, which certainly meant that he was not okay. “Are you okay?”“Yes—”“Is Haruka okay?”“We’re okay,” Yumi quickly reassured. “I just wanted to ask you about Majima, on behalf of Yasuko—”There was a particularly loud shout, and Kiryu said something that the phone didn’t pick up, probably purposely muffled. “Shit. I’ll call you back,” he said, voice lowered, somehow even more strained. “I gotta go to an emergency meeting.”“About Majima?” Yumi asked, but Kiryu had already hung up.
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Guy
10:09
The first thing that Kiryu was going to “buy” for Nishiki was a new outfit. If Majima had instantly recognized him, and if the Majima Family wasn’t too preoccupied with blowing up buildings, then the word must certainly be spreading that Nishiki was in town.“So much for keeping a low radar, oyasan,” Nishiki muttered to himself as he ran his fingers over the umpteenth clothing rack. He needed to blend in even more, keep as low as of profile as possible. Meaning, he had to sacrifice the barely remaining scraps his of mental state and buy – sigh – modern clothing.“Excuse me, sir. Welcome to Guy. Are you in need of assistance?”Nishiki’s shoulders automatically tensed, but he tried to mask the motion. The first step of blending in was to not act like a jackrabbit hyped up on amphetamines whenever people talked to him. He turned to the store attendant, a young woman, with as… “normal” of a look as he could muster. (So, a blank yet vaguely nervous expression.)“I’m… looking for something new.” Nishiki cleared his throat. “I need a new look—something modern,” he let on. He tried to let his “old self” sink in. The man who used to be endlessly flawless, charismatic. Talking to women used to be his forte. Shit, he hasn’t talked to a woman in ten years until yesterday when he talked to Reina, huh? And he had royally fucked that up.“Ah! Okay!” The store attendant excitedly clapped her hands together for some reason. She directed Nishiki toward the back of the store. “We have some pieces from Ralph Lauren’s fall collection that I think would suit you. We have selections from Polo, the Black Label, and the Purple Label.”Ralph Lauren? From what Nishiki remembered, it was more of an uppity, preppy brand. It didn’t exactly suit the gritty highlife he had been living in the ‘80s and the ‘90s. He wondered how much the clothes changed over the last twentyish years.“The Black Label?” Nishiki muttered. He could already feel too over his head. Was this how Kiryu felt when he took him shopping back in the day?“Yes! It’s a new label that launched this year. You can’t get more modern than that!” The store attendant directed him to a clothing rack. “These clothes are not only en vogue, but they are perfectly suited to keep warm for the winter, too.” She pulled out a few sweaters. “Do you see anything you like, sir?”The clothes were just as preppy as Nishiki remembered them to be, and a bit too colorful. He wanted to blend in, not stand out. So, he automatically gravitated more toward the darker clothes.But then again, no one would be expecting Nishiki to walk around wearing a striped sweater. He would probably look like any old dumbass college student looking for a getaway in the pleasure district.Nishiki held up Kiryu’s wad of cash. Fuck it. “I’ll take the whole rack.”The store attendant’s eyes widened, flickering between Nishiki’s face and Nishiki’s money. “Y-Yes, sir!”She moved to assumedly take down the abundance of sweaters, jackets, and suits, but Nishiki stopped her to ask, “Do you sell sunglasses?”
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Nakamichi Street
12:14
Nishiki had arranged for his piles and piles of clothes to be gift wrapped and delivered to Serena, topped off with a bullshit lie that he was a boss giving his employees some gracious Christmas presents over drinks. Whatever. It seemed wise to not give out the address to “his” apartment, and to not possibly hint that he was a brand-new ex-inmate trying his best to “reintegrate” into society.Why? Nishiki lit up a cigarette as the thought encircled in his mind. What am I doing? He was walking down Nakamichi Street like an idiot, in a dark turtleneck and a black jacket, in tinted sunglasses, with his hair tied back, with leather gloves hiding his missing finger and scarred knuckles. Did he look normal? Was he one with the crowd? No one was looking at him. But he only knew that because he couldn’t stop looking around. Because it felt like everyone was staring at him.He could never blend in. He was a walking corpse with designer hanging off of his rotten flesh, with his feet leading him to a place with no destination.“Ah! You’re here!”Nishiki allowed himself to freeze up now. Fuck fuck fuck fuck— His hand automatically reached into his pocket for his tanto. His head swiveled around to the left, where an older man in a cooking smock was bumbling toward him. The man was wet with sweat all over, and wearing a headband that read “tomorrow’s winds will blow tomorrow.”“S-Stop! Stop!” The man yelled out. Nishiki looked right, looked left. No. This man was talking to him. No mistaking it. The man even held out his hand and grabbed Nishiki by the jacket sleeve. “L-Let me catch my breath…”Nishiki shook the man off. “Who the hell are you?” Was it rude? Sure. Was he blending in? Apparently not.The man’s face immediately fell. Believe it or not, he genuinely looked sad. Which was all the more confusing. “Now’s not the time for playing around, Hiroshi-kun! They say that the legendary demae Hiroshi only shows up to help those in need, and I’m definitely in need right now!” Hiroshi? Who the hell is Hiroshi? “My stomach’s killing me again—Ugh!” The man doubled over, grabbing at his stomach. “I got my son watching over the shop, so he can’t do deliveries right now. Hiroshi-kun, please help us!”Nishiki blinked. “…What?”“Please—!” The man doubled over again. He looked like he was on the verge of puking, or maybe shitting his guts out, or maybe both at the same time. Nishiki wrinkled his nose. “Just go to the shop and get the deliveries out for the lunch rush.” The man began to drip with even more sweat. “I gotta get to the bathroom!” And he ran off.What the fuck? Nishiki watched as the man rushed off, presumedly to the nearest public bathroom.Okay, whoever this “Hiroshi” guy was, Nishiki apparently looked like him. Whatever. He was just going to be on his merry way to nowhere again—“Hiroshi-kun!”A younger man, probably in his early to mid-twenties, was waving at him from across the street. He was dragging a bicycle in one hand and a tall stack of trays in the other, and he was wearing the same cooking smock and headband as the older man. When the young man raced across the street, not caring about the traffic, Nishiki could see that his headband read “review past, know future.”“C’mon, Hiroshi-kun!” The young man tried to shove the trays into Nishiki’s arms. “A lotta big fancy businessmen ordered out for lunch today! You gotta give these to ‘em while they’re hot!”“I’m not—” The bicycle was being pushed toward Nishiki.“It’s on West Taihei Boulevard! The pink real estate building! Go, go, go!” And the man ran back across the street, to a noodle shop that read “Shin Soba” across its front.So, Nishiki was now standing in the middle of Nakamichi Street like an idiot, holding trays upon trays of bowls upon bowls of soba noodles and with a bike barely balancing against his side. But now, he was an idiot that had been given a task, a corpse that had been given a destination.Nishiki spat out his cigarette and muttered, “What the fuck am I doing?” He moved the bike toward the street and tried to balance the trays on his shoulder, just like the demae did back in the day. “Fucking ridiculous.” What, was this the Shōwa period? Better yet, was this the fucking Edo period? Why was this shop still delivering noodles on bikes in the 21st century? They needed a delivery car ASAP. Maybe Nishiki should invest Kiryu’s leftover money in Shin Soba.Okay. That thought managed to bring a slight smirk to Nishiki’s lips – before he nearly fell off of the bike as he tried to pedal and not drop the food at the same time. Yeah, this was definitely as hard as it looked. If he dropped the food, oh well. Was he even getting paid for this?
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
First Step Real Estate
12:22
Nishiki’s shoulder fucking ached to the bone by the time he stopped in front of a pink building labeled “First Step Real Estate.” The memory of Kiryu having the audacity to tell him that he was investing in real estate or whatever back in the ‘80s came to mind. Wasn’t it a front for Tachibana or something? Nishiki couldn’t quite remember. He just remembered trying to pick out Kiryu’s outfit and the endeavor failing terribly, as always.Enough thinking about Kiryu. The memory was making Nishiki’s ache deeper, he knew it. He refocused his attention on the woman at the receptionist desk.“I have a delivery from Shin Soba.” Let’s get this over with. He better get paid for this bullshit.The lady leaned in closer, which nearly made Nishiki take a step back. “Excuse me, sir? My apologies, but I did not quite catch what you said.”“I have a delivery from Shin Soba,” Nishiki repeated, hopefully louder. Did he even need to say anything? The big ass stack of noodles on his shoulder should say enough already.“Ah, yes.” The woman promptly stood up. “Right this way, sir. Thank you.” The sound of her heels echoed against the linoleum floor as she led Nishiki down the hallway, to the right, to the first door on the left. She opened the door with a curt bow.From the outside, it probably looked like your average, nondescript meeting between businessmen. But Nishiki had crawled through the underground and back again. He knew yakuza when he saw them.Shit. Was this some sort of elaborate setup? He should’ve minded his fucking business and kept walking down the street. This is what he got for being “helpful” or whatever-the-fuck. That’s how Kiryu always got in trouble, too. Always being the big damn hero against his own good.Nishiki was just going to dump the food and leave before they got a good look at him—A man near the door noticed Nishiki. “Finally!” The man leaned back in his seat and slammed his hand on the conference table. “I’m fucking starving!”Another man, toward the head of the table, cocked his head. “Are ya gonna stand there, or are ya gonna give us our food?”Nishiki felt like a deer in the headlights. Did they recognize him? Was this a trap? He still couldn’t tell. He slowly set down the trays on the table. His tanto was in his right pocket, out of sight but always in mind. He should’ve brought his gun. Fuck.All eyes were on him, for sure. Nishiki couldn’t take it. Play it cool. Don’t raise suspicion. He redirected his eyes to the trays. The bowls had different names on them. Just give them their food and get the fuck out of here. That’s all he had to do. Blend in. Well, not blend in with the yakuza, but blend in as the everyday man. He was just a deliveryman. If they asked, his name was “Hiroshi” or whatever.He began to unload the trays as quickly as possible. He pulled out the first bowl his hands landed on. “Sato,” he called out.“Over here.” It was a man on the opposite side of the table. Nishiki delivered the bowl to him. Still hot.Next bowl. “Suzuki.”“Give it here.” A man on the other side of the table. His bowl was still hot, too. “You gotta speak up, man. I can barely fucking hear ya.” The man chuckled as he clapped Nishiki’s shoulder. Nishiki forced himself to laugh back, to not flinch.Next bowl. “Watanabe.”“Right here.” The man was sitting near the door. “Thanks.” He snickered to himself as he uncovered the bowl. “Fuck yeah, it’s still hot.”The men began to launch into idle conversation, not paying attention to Nishiki unless he called their name to give them their food. These men… didn’t seem to know who Nishiki was, didn’t seem like they were waiting for the right moment to drag him to headquarters, or slit his throat, or shoot him down, or beat him into a pulp, or drop him in a torture pit.There were only three bowls left. Nishiki willed his hands not to shake. He was more than anxious to get the hell out of there. The next bowl he grabbed was cold. The only cold bowl, actually. This group of men preferred for their soba to be hot.“Kashi—” Nishiki choked on his next breath. Kashiwagi. The bowl said “Kashiwagi.”A hand raised.Maybe this would be the perfect opportunity to bolt. Just run. Run and never stop. Wasn’t Kashiwagi the patriarch of the Kazama Family and the captain of the Dojima Family? Were there Kazama or Dojima family members in this room right now? This was a trap all along, wasn’t it?The arm attached to the hand lowered, and the body attached to the arm leaned back. Their eyes connected. It was Kashiwagi. No one could fake that scar.Nishiki forced his feet to move, before attention could be brought on the petrified deliveryman not giving the superior his food in a timely manner.Kashiwagi nodded as his noodles were handed to him. Did he recognize Nishiki? Nishiki’s hair was pulled back away from his shoulders. Nishiki hadn’t taken off the sunglasses the entire time. Sure, he probably looked like an asshole by wearing sunglasses inside, but he was in a room of potentially bigger assholes right now.It would be easy. Nishiki held his breath. Just hand Kashiwagi the food and go. If he lingered too long around Kashiwagi, he would recognize him – if he hadn’t already.Nishiki’s wrist was grabbed before he could set down Kashiwagi’s chopsticks. Kashiwagi didn’t look at him. His eyes were focused ahead. “What’s your name?” he asked, voice giving away nothing – as always.“H-H—” Nishiki cleared his throat. “Hiroshi.” That was the name, right?Kashiwagi looked up. His dark eyes instantly locked with Nishiki’s wavering ones. Thank God the sunglasses were too tinted to see through, or else Kashiwagi would be able to easily make out the fear he had effortlessly stricken into Nishiki. (But the tremble of his clutched wrist already gave it away.)“And is there some reason why you are delivering noodles?” Kashiwagi asked.Nishiki felt himself grow limp. To the outside ear, it might have sounded like Kashiwagi was asking a curious question, but several alarms were going off in Nishiki’s head. Deafening enough to made him stumble on his so-called answer: “Uh, I—” Nishiki tried to clear his throat. Kashiwagi didn’t need to be holding him down to have an iron grip on him. “Just am,” he lamely finished.Kashiwagi nodded again. He let go, and Nishiki was more than happy to yank his hand back to his side. Kashiwagi gave a quiet snort. “I’ll tell your boss to give you a winter bonus.”“T-Thank you, sir.” Nishiki could still feel Kashiwagi’s eyes follow him as he stumbled to walk away.Did that really just happen? That was surreal as fuck. Nishiki’s heart was going to beat out of his chest. Kashiwagi totally recognized him. Had to. Holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—“Hey!” A man from the other side of the room called out. He slammed his hand on the table. “I’m fucking starving over here! Hurry the fuck up!”Nishiki swallowed down his heart that was quickly rising in his throat and went to retrieve the last two bowls. “Nakamura?” he called out, and tried not to think about Kashiwagi sitting in the corner of the room, eating his own food as if nothing had happened. “Yoshida?” he called out, and tried not to think about how talking to Reina and Kashiwagi had both felt like disasters – but maybe it wasn’t so bad.Maybe things didn’t have to be too bad, but Nishiki was too far up shit creek to give himself or anyone else that much saving grace.
Friday, May 13, 1983
Nagano
Tokuriki’s Soba Noodle Wagon
23:41
“What’re ya lookin’ at?”“I’m lookin’ at something I’ve been waitin’ to get my hands on all night.”“…Shut the fuck up.”Majima’s laugh cackled through the night. Saejima would usually tell him to shut up again, it’s late, you’re gonna wake the whole damn district up. But a small smile settled on Saejima’s face instead. Blink and you miss it.Plus, they weren’t in their usual haunts tonight. They were in Nagano. So, Majima was feeling even more hyped up than usual. Not simply because they were in Nagano – fuck Nagano! it was boring as fuck! – but because they had been sent to Nagano. They were sent to go after a runaway collection that was outside of their jurisdiction. (Okay, more like Saejima had been sent out and Majima volunteered himself to tag along. Same difference. His skin just kinda itches if he’s away from Saejima for too long, is all.)Okay, okay. Cut the bullshit. Straight to the chase. All of that shit meant that Saejima was moving up in the world. He was being trusted with jobs outside of Tokyo. This was big shit. They were big shit.So, so – also, also – if Majima was a little touchy-feely, so be it. He had a thing for powerful guys, even if they were up and coming. And he liked big guys, too. And he liked the strong, silent types. And the tall, dark, and handsome types. And—“Watch yer hands,” Saejima grunted. Maybe Majima’s hands had done a little wandering of their own while his mind was wandering, and they had landed on Saejima’s firm chest, firmer bicep.“What if I don’t wanna?” Majima pursed his lips in the annoying way he knew Saejima hated. “What’cha gonna do about it, huh?” He gave the other man a squeeze, to see what he would do – and Saejima tightened his hands over Majima’s with a disapproving look. Saejima’s hands were big enough to crush Majima’s. His everything was enough to crush Majima.Fuck. He liked Saejima, like really liked him. Ready to call it love at this point.“C’mon! Ya don’t feel it?” Majima snatched his hands back and gave Saejima a slight shove, playful yet strong enough to get his point across.“Feel what?”Majima fully shoved at Saejima this time. “Feel that we’re movin’ on up in the world! They’re trustin’ us to do shit outside the city. Ya know what’s next?” Majima didn’t give Saejima a chance to answer. Not like Saejima would’ve, anyway. “We’re gonna make it big! We’re gonna play with the fuckin’ big boys. We’re on our way to the top, kyodai.”Saejima snorted, but Majima could make out the smile he was trying to hide. “Just ‘cause we’re in Nagano?”“Yeah, stupid.” Majima reached up to smack the back of Saejima’s head, but Saejima easily dodged him. Majima had half a mind to jump on Saejima, start a little fight, maybe wrestle him into an alleyway, convince him to give them a reason to get banned from Nagano, but— “Shit.” Majima’s stomach growled loud enough to echo through the emptied streets. “Think anything’s still open? I ain’t eat all day.”Saejima began to look around. He nudged Majima with his elbow after they walked for about a minute. He nodded ahead. Looked like there was a noodle cart still out. Majima was gonna kiss the owner for sure. Well, the food had to be kiss worthy first.The owner was an older lady who warmly greeted them, even offered them an extra bowl for free. Nagano was known for their soba and this lady did not disappoint – the shinshu soba, the grilled miso paste, the homemade tsuyu – it was the whole nine yards.So yeah, the food was good enough for Majima to smack a kiss against the old lady’s cheek, to which she laughed at and stuffed a handful of sugar candy in his pocket, like he was a little kid or something. Hey, maybe he still was for now – just a small fish swimming in a big pond, but give him a few years, and he was going to be the man of men. This was just the first step.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
16:02
This must have been the tenth or eleventh time that Nishiki inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth. He’s convinced and unconvinced himself for, what, five hours now? He managed to make his way to the doors of Stardust – after three hours to force himself out of his apartment, an hour to make his way into town, an hour to make it down Tenkaichi Street – but not through the doors of Stardust.Was he going to stop being a fucking coward and ask Kazuki to contact Kazama and Kiryu? Was he going to let himself get swept further upstream in shit’s creek, or was he going to try his best to paddle back down?Nishiki let out a final breath through his mouth. He could barely register the condensed air blowing back against his skin. No. He couldn’t fucking do it. He couldn’t talk to Kazama or Kiryu. He couldn’t fulfill Saejima’s wishes. Ten years in the joint didn’t make a man stronger. It withered a man down until they were completely broken and useless. Nishiki was just another worthless, lowlife pussy who had overstayed his welcome in life. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere.Nishiki shook his head to himself and moved to walk away. At least the gun weighing down in his jacket pocket was a reminder that he could end everything at the snap of a finger—“Nishikiyama?”Nishiki’s hand automatically flew to his pocket, wrapped around his gun, as he shakily spun back to Stardust’s entrance. It was only the guy with the squared jaw and greasy hair who worked for Kazuki. Yuya, right? Nishiki unclenched his hand from around his gun, but his heart was still rattling against his chest.“What?” Yeah, Nishiki sounded rude and probably gave away how startled he was, but whatever. It wasn’t like he was ever particularly known for being polite, anyway.Yuya didn’t seem perturbed, though. His eyes were rapidly flickering in between Nishiki and the club. His eyes suddenly widened, as if some sort of idea popped into his head. Uh oh. If Nishiki was about to be dragged into doing a random free labor favor again—“C’mon! You gotta help us out! We’re fucking short-staffed and the night rushes are about to come in.”—fuck. How the hell did Kiryu do this shit on a daily basis?Yuya didn’t ask if Nishiki wanted to help or not. He just raced back into the club. Again, Nishiki felt the obligation to follow. It burned slightly beneath his feet. Not because he specifically wanted to help, but because he was directionless. If he was given a destination, it was easier to follow it than to continue to wander aimlessly. At least, that was what made sense to him.The moment Nishiki took a step out of the cold and into Stardust, a tray filled with drinks was shoved into his arms. Yuya pointed to a table (well, less of a typical club’s table and more like lounge sofas with small tables here and there). “Come to the back when you’re done,” was all he said before he bounded away.Nishiki glanced around. The club was pretty dark, lit only by blue and white strobe lights. Nishiki had never worked as a waiter before – never worked any non-yakuza-affiliated jobs before – but the club seemed to have a simple enough layout. There was a big ass checkered dancefloor in the middle with some seats surrounding it, hugging the stairs.In through the nose. Nishiki straightened up his back as he walked to the table he had been directed to. If he could just momentarily crawl into the skin of his old self, he would be fine. Out through the mouth. And he didn’t have to talk to Kazuki, either. He could just deliver drinks or whatever-the-fuck for as long as he saw fit, and then sneak out when no one was looking once he was over it.And then what are you going to do? Nishiki didn’t have an answer for that.He focused on the present because the future proved weary. He was serving an older woman and the host entertaining her. Looks like they both ordered highballs. Damn, Nishiki could use a good drink right about now.The woman loudly cooed when her eyes landed on the tray. Looked like she was already past tipsy. “Thank you, thank you!” She clapped once Nishiki handed her drink over. “Ah, I love it here! Whoo!” She messily clinked glasses with her host, sloshing whisky and soda water on the floor. Oh well. Not Nishiki’s problem. He nodded his head before he walked away.Nishiki didn’t find “the back,” the back found him. It was as if Yuya had materialized out of nowhere to shove another tray of drinks into his arms. “Get this to table five.” He was already moving away.“Where the hell is table five?” Nishiki quickly called out.“Yellow dress!” Yuya called back out, and then he disappeared into a sea of scurrying waiters.Everyone basically blended together underneath the lighting, so Nishiki tried his best to make out an assumed woman in a yellow dress. He unfortunately had to pull off his sunglasses to see properly. Kazama was connected to Stardust, yeah? There better not be any Kazama Family members who moonlighted as hosts here.Nishiki took a guess on a woman toward the other side of the building. And he guessed correctly. The woman didn’t look at him as she thanked him for the drink, too focused on the host who was chatting her up. Whatever. On to the next.Nishiki had visited many a hostess club in his prime, but he had never been to a host club before. His little hostess friends from back in the day would tell him that they liked to go to host clubs once they got off work at around one or two in the morning. Right now, it was around four or five in the evening. The current clientele weren’t off-the-clock hostesses, but older women and lonely housewives.The ”lonely” thing wasn’t an assumption but an inference. Nishiki’s ears couldn’t help but catch the passing conversations between the women and the hosts. It was more interesting than the perpetual music bumping in the background. Nishiki was getting a damn headache.There was an older woman carrying an umbrella who ordered an umeshu sour. Her host was in more so plain looking clothing. He told her: “I could be your husband, miss! Anyone would be lucky to have you as a wife!”There were two women in matching outfits who ordered oolong hai. Their host looked like a wannabe idol. He said: “What do you mean you two aren’t married? I’ll make both of you my wife if another man doesn’t first!”There was a younger woman wearing Miu Miu and dripping in diamonds who ordered a champagne call. Every host gathered around her to sing and Nishiki had the displeasure to wipe the spilled champagne from her and her host’s chins. Her host looked like he stepped out of a trashy shōjo manga. He told her: “Your husband doesn’t know how to appreciate a woman like you. He must be blind if he doesn’t know that he has the perfect wife.”(“You got the tables down now? Deliver the grapefruit chuhai to table three. The peach chuhai goes to table four. Got it?”)Wife, wife, wife. All of these women were looking for two things: easily accessible entertainment and reassurance that they were the perfect woman, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect wife. Nishiki remembered his hostess friends and “girlfriends” from back in the day had the same worries. Looks like some things never change.(“Deliver these highballs to table six!”)Wife. What did that mean? To be “the perfect wife”? Depended on the guy you asked. Ask some idiot chinpira, and he would probably want a woman whose acrylics were long enough to snort out of, tits big enough to squeeze, and legs that were always smooth and spreadable – whenever, wherever.(“Table one wants a champagne tower—! Nishikiyama? Are you listening to me?”)Ask some high-ranking yakuza scum, and he would want a woman who could function as a walking clothes rack to show off how he could afford whatever designer brand and jewelry he wanted, who would be willing to only leave home to make planned public appearances, and who would be willing to be inked forever in his name – something that was his.(“Nishikiyama?”)Ask the average salaryman, and he would want a woman who… was simply there – someone who he could reach out and touch, to prove his existence.“Nishikiyama!”Nishiki flinched back to reality. Yuya, eyebrow raised, was handing him a tray of malt whiskey. Nishiki asked, “Which table?”“Table six.” And Nishiki was off.What about Nishiki? What was his idea of the perfect wife? He never thought about it before. He never pictured himself ever getting married. He honestly didn’t look too far into the future in the past. Sure, he wanted to be big time, have all the cash and clothes, have his name be immortalized – but those were just the big picture. He would harp on Kiryu for not thinking about the little details, but it turned out that Nishiki didn’t either.Nishiki snorted to himself after he delivered the whiskey. Well, his name was “immortalized.” For better or worse.What about Kiryu? What was his idea of the perfect wife? When they were older, he would probably give some sort of dumbass, simple answer if someone asked him. (“I don’t know. Someone nice. And… pretty.”) When they were younger, he would say Nishiki was his wife, because he liked pissing Nishiki off. (“I’m not a fucking girl! Stop saying that shit!”)But Nishiki wasn’t the idea of a “perfect wife.” That would be fucking stupid.Was it Yumi? Was Yumi the ideal? Was it always Yumi? Was Yumi the perfect wife for Kiryu? Reina said she assumed they got a divorce because Yumi and their kid’s life was in danger. Not because they fell out of love with each other.The kid. The fucking kid was still tripping Nishiki up. He almost spilled the drink he was handing over to the perpetual-next faceless patron and host. What was their kid like?It would’ve been better to imagine that Kiryu and Yumi’s marriage was miserable, and that their kid was rotten, but the bitter reality was that it most likely wasn’t the truth. Yumi was amazing. Kiryu was devoted. Their kid probably adopted the best parts of both of them and was perfect. The perfect kid. The perfect wife. Kiryu had it all.Fuck. Nishiki wanted to puke. What the fuck was he doing? What was this absurd envy that he was feeling right now? He had drinks to serve.
Sunday, October 28, 1984
Fuchu
Fuchu Forest Performing Arts Theater
18:10
Kiryu was sixteen. Nishiki had just turned sixteen. Yumi had already finished her club activities and went home early. Yuko said she was well enough to make the trip to the theater. But Kiryu knew by then that Yuko wasn’t “well,” and wasn’t ever going to be. He could tell in how she tried to hold her breath when they sat down, in how she tried to hide that even such a short walk had exhausted her.Yuko’s smile was strained when she looked up at Kiryu, but he could tell it was only because she had pushed herself, not because she wasn’t happy. “Can you tell me what the surprise is now?” It must have been the fifth or sixth time she asked, but Kiryu didn’t feel annoyed. Talking to Yuko always felt… precious, for a lack of a better word. Because it was something that he couldn’t do that often, and it was especially rare to do so outside of a hospital room or her sectioned-off room in the orphanage.“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I tell you,” Kiryu reminded her. “And it’s about to start.” He pretended to shush her, which she shook her head and laughed at. As if on cue, the lights dimmed and the rest of the audience hushed.Kiryu wasn’t the type to buzz with excitement, but he could feel himself shifting slightly in his seat – enough for Yuko to lay a delicate hand over his, for her to give a small smile through the dark. She managed to melt the tension just a little bit.The curtains drew and the opening scene, or whatever it’s called, commenced – with… old people in Heian period clothing fighting over the custody of a kid? Yeah, this was already going over Kiryu’s head. He could practically hear Yumi and Yuko saying, “You need to read more!” If only reading was as fun as going to the arcade. Ugh. Kiryu didn’t even read manga.Kiryu looked down when he felt Yuko squeeze his hand. “Is this The Tale of Genji?” she whisper-asked. Kiryu nodded. Her eyes slightly widened as she turned back to the stage. “I’ve always wanted to see a play of this. Hm… But I guess this isn’t Noh, though.”“Thank God,” Kiryu muttered, which Yuko playfully pushed his arm for. If he had to watch a Noh performance, he would’ve easily slipped into a coma out of boredom. He didn’t understand how Yuko could be into it.The play meddled on for a bit. Kiryu half paid attention. He was more focused on not falling asleep, trying to follow the story, and watching Yuko’s reaction. She was honest-to-God starry eyed. Good. Kiryu felt a small smile settle on his face. She didn’t even know what was coming.And neither did Kiryu.When he finally came out, Yuko gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand. Kiryu shot a quick scowl to the people around them that glared at Yuko for breaking the silence, but Kiryu couldn’t mask the pounding in his chest. Holy shit. It felt like his heart was going to explode through his ribcage.If Kiryu didn’t know who it was, then he probably wouldn’t have recognized him. Nishiki looked otherworldly. Yeah, everyone else was dressed in period-appropriate clothing, but Nishiki looked above that. He looked like he belonged in one of those fantastical, dreamy period dramas that came on in the middle of the night that Kiryu never understood, but they were always cool to look at.Nishiki was playing the lead, Genji, but he looked like he was beyond mere royalty. He looked like a deity that had fell from the Heavens to bless humanity with his beauty.Kiryu had never thought that way about someone, to wax poetic about them, so – this was new. He was a simple guy. Some people called him dumb or whatever. He just liked not to think too hard when he didn’t have to. But – now? His brain was going into overdrive. It was like his mind was whirling. He never felt that way before.Nishiki was draped in colorful, silk robes, but despite the lavender purple outer robe, the red inner robe stuck out the most. It was striking. But yeah, the prince (or sort-of prince, if Kiryu was following the story right) was going to have a standout court costume. And Nishiki had been given a wig or longer hair to put in his hair or something. He already had pretty long hair for a guy, with it being shoulder length, but now it trailed down his back, would’ve swept across the stage floor if it didn’t gather at the bottom of his robes.And then his face. Holy shit. Kiryu had seen guys wear makeup before, on TV and on the flashier streets of Tokyo. Nishiki’s face wasn’t all powdered to hell with whiteness, though. His face looked… nice. He looked different, but not a bad different. He looked… pretty.That was the first time Kiryu ever thought of Nishiki as “pretty.”People liked to call Nishiki “pretty” all the time. Girls meant it in a different way than guys did, though. “Nishiki, you’re so pretty. I’m jealous. Do you have a boyfriend yet? Are you gonna grow up to be a housewife? That’ll be easier for you than being in the yakuza.” Kiryu would join in sometimes if he felt like joking around. (Or being an asshole, according to Nishiki.) And he would get an elbow to the ribs (at best) or he would be shoved into the ground and dodging Nishiki’s fists (at worst; well, if Kiryu wasn’t in the mood to fight).Just. Nishiki was always just Nishiki to Kiryu. Nishiki was someone who was always there, someone Kiryu didn’t have to impress or try too hard around, because Nishiki understood him the best – and vice versa. Kiryu was never given a reason to see Nishiki in a different light. Until now.Nishiki seemed to be looking at them. He smirked when his eyes landed on Kiryu, and he smiled when his eyes landed on Yuko. Then, he opened his mouth and – nothing came out.He forgot his line. He forgot his first fucking line.Yuko stifled a laugh. Kiryu shook his head, but when he looked back up, and Nishiki finally spoke, he was transfixed all over again.
Sunday, October 28, 1984
Fuchu
Fuchu Forest Performing Arts Theater
20:16
Once they made their way backstage, Nishiki immediately gathered Yuko in his arms when she jumped into them, not caring if she rumpled his costume. “Ooh, my brother’s an actor,” she cooed, half-mocking, half-genuine. He rolled his eyes as he let her go. “You’re so pretty, too!”“Ugh. Shut up.” Nishiki rolled his eyes again, but it was all affectionate. Kiryu knew that Nishiki would rather pry off his own fingernails than admit that he had a soft spot for his sister, yet he couldn’t help but show it. “Your brother looks like a girl.” Nishiki pouted, which didn’t help his so-called girlish appearance. “Why’d they give me all this hair? I’m supposed to be a dude.”Yuko sighed. “Because Genji is supposed to be so beautiful that his beauty transcends men and women. He’s beautiful beyond gender. His androgynous beauty causes for both men and women to be enraptured by him. His beauty is supposed to relate to the natural beauty of the world.”Kiryu and Nishiki blankly blinked at the same time.“You should write my essays, Yuko,” Kiryu murmured.“I don’t even know what ‘androgynous’ means,” Nishiki muttered. He snorted as he turned around to the makeup vanity behind him. He looked like he was about to reach out for a wet towel to wipe his face, but Yuko stopped him.“Wait!” She grabbed her brother’s arm. “I want to get a picture of you in your outfit.” Nishiki raised an eyebrow. “Please? Just really quick?”“Fine,” Nishiki sighed. It wasn’t as if he was going to say no in the first place. “Hurry up. This shit on my face feels terrible.”“I think it looks nice,” Kiryu blurted.Nishiki and Yuko both turned to him. Nishiki with two raised eyebrows instead of one. Yuko with some sort of knowing look that Kiryu couldn’t decipher. It made a weird itch rise in Kiryu’s throat. Why the hell were they looking at him like that?Yuko lightly tugged at Nishiki’s long sleeve, bringing the attention back to her. “I left my camera in my room, though…”“At the hospital or at the orphanage?” Nishiki asked.“At the orphanage. I could go get it—”Nishiki shook his head. “Kiryu can get it.” Kiryu didn’t mind that he was involuntarily volunteered, because it only made sense. Nishiki was wearing too many clothes and the walk would tire out Yuko.“No, I want to go together,” Yuko insisted.Nishiki’s eyebrows furrowed. “But—”“Please?”Nishiki sighed. Yeah, he was definitely soft for his kid sister. He reached underneath the vanity and pulled out his backpack. “Fine. Whatever.” He pulled out a pair of sneakers that he only wore in gym, that he wouldn’t be caught dead in otherwise. He mumbled, “If you fucking pass out on the way there,” to himself as he pulled on the shoes.
Sunday, October 28, 1984
Fuchu
Sunflower Orphanage
20:23
Kiryu was more than willing to walk at a slow pace to accommodate both Nishiki and Yuko. Nishiki’s robes looked heavy – and, yeah, Nishiki was pretty strong, but the robes dragged on the ground, which was probably annoying. Kiryu had to fight the urge in his fingertips to hold up the ends of Nishiki’s robes, as if he was some sort of aristocratic assistant. But he would probably get a weird look from Nishiki again, so Kiryu held back.“I didn’t know you joined the drama club,” Yuko said. She had been slightly leaning against Nishiki’s side.Nishiki wrinkled his nose. “Hell no. Since they were putting on a play for Genji for the cultural festival, they asked me to be Genji. Ugh.” His nose wrinkled again. “They didn’t just ask me. They begged me. It was so annoying. But I remembered that you like Genji, and you’ve been feeling better lately, so…” He shrugged. “I thought it would be a nice surprise.”“It was. Thank you.” Yuko leaned her head against Nishiki’s arm in lieu of a hug. “I should’ve brought you flowers, but you did forget half of your lines, so I don’t know if you deserve any.” She laughed, letting the sound echo in the night, no longer having to be self-contained within the theater.“Hey, I tried my best!” Nishiki’s eyes suddenly flickered to Kiryu. “Actually, speaking of flowers…”Kiryu groaned. He knew where this was going, but he was going to get the first word in. “Nishiki tried to kick my ass over the flower thing,” he told Yuko. “‘Cause he thought we were dating.”“Ah… Yeah.” Yuko gave Kiryu an apologetic look. “I apologized to my brother, but I never apologized to you. I’m sorry, Kazuma. It was really selfish of me to tell my brother that.” Kiryu shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal, really. Just a misunderstanding.“He told me to call him ‘onii-san,’” Kiryu recalled.Nishiki sputtered. “D-Don’t tell her that! And you called me that anyway, weirdo.”“No, you’re the weird one,” Yuko said, and Kiryu mentally agreed. “Kazuma is older than you. Why would he call you ‘onii-san’?”“W-Why not?” Nishiki sputtered again. It was two against one, and Nishiki was fighting a losing battle. Kiryu wished he could see Nishiki’s ears right now. They were probably burning red. But seeing his slightly flushed face was enough. The embarrassed pink of his cheeks made him look prettier, especially in the moonlight.Kiryu forced his eyes to look away. He had missed whatever Yuko said and whatever smartass remark Nishiki shot back. They had already arrived to the orphanage, anyway.“I think a picture in the garden would be really nice.” Yuko dug into her pocket for her key and opened the door. (Which made Kiryu realize that he left home without his key, which he had a bad habit of doing. He figured there would always be at least one person in the orphanage to let him in.) “You two can wait there while I find my camera. Okay?”“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Nishiki asked.“I can make it to my room by myself.” Yuko flashed Nishiki a reassuring smile before she turned to Kiryu. “Make sure that my brother stays pretty for me, okay?”“I’m always pretty,” Nishiki muttered. Looks like he was in the mood to be in on the joke tonight.Kiryu nodded, and Yuko went inside. Kiryu and Nishiki made their way to the garden. It was at the back of the orphanage, bordering the forest.“What’d you think?” Nishiki asked.“About what?”“About the play, idiot. How was it?”“Uh…” Kiryu couldn’t help but give an honest answer: “I don’t know what happened.”“Of course you didn’t.” Nishiki loudly sighed, but the sound wasn’t serious. “What’d you think about me?”They had made their way to the garden now. Nishiki stood in front of the shrubs of pink and red camellias. The forest was behind him and the moon was in front of him. Wasn’t there some sort of famous handscroll of The Tale of Genji? Whatever it was, this is what Kiryu imagined it to be. Nishiki looked like a living piece of art.“Kiryu?” Nishiki slightly cocked his head. “What’s going on with you, bro?” He was giving Kiryu a weird look again. At least there was a reason why now, because Kiryu had been unabashedly staring at him.“What? Nothing’s wrong with me.” Of course, Kiryu wasn’t going to admit to unabashedly staring at Nishiki, though.“No. You’re being weird.” Nishiki crossed his arms, causing for his robes to ripple around him. It was waterlike, mesmerizing. “Or, weirder than usual. You’re always weird, man.”“I just, uh…” Kiryu shrugged as if it was nothing. “You look…” Pretty. Nice. Beautiful. “You look different. It’s cool, I think.”“You think?” Nishiki seemed to tighten his arms around himself. “I look like a girl. That’s not cool.” His gaze wandered toward the forest. “If any of the guys at school saw me and try to give me shit, I’m kicking their asses. I don’t care what oyasan thinks,” he muttered.Sometimes Kiryu’s mouth seemed to work faster than his brain. He found himself saying, “No,” without thinking. “I don’t care if you look like a girl. I think you look cool either way.”Nishiki sharply turned back to him. “What?” he breathed out, eyes widened. If the night wasn’t so still, Kiryu probably wouldn’t have heard him.Kiryu’s hands balled up. It was something that he tended to automatically do whenever he didn’t know what to do. Whenever there was so much tension running through his body that he wanted to get it out through his hands, to hit something, to let the searing energy out. But he didn’t want to exactly hit Nishiki. He wanted to reach out and touch him, to see if he was real, to see if he could break this weird feeling that had suddenly bubbled up in between them.Maybe it was the weird tense feeling that caused for Kiryu to take a small step toward Nishiki. Maybe he could get closer to closing the gap. He didn’t know. He didn’t like thinking too hard. He just followed where his body took him.Nishiki’s lips tightened, but he lowered his arms from around himself. He glanced down, and his elongated hair, like black waves, cascaded over his shoulders. He was so unreal, so beautiful. If Nishiki suddenly told Kiryu that he was dreaming, he would believe it.When Nishiki looked up again, making his mind up about something, he locked eyes with Kiryu. Kiryu felt like he couldn’t breathe for a second. He didn’t know why.“Kiryu, I—”Nishiki never finished what he wanted to say. Yuko came into the garden. “I found my camera,” she announced. She paused when she looked at Kiryu and Nishiki. “Did… something happen when I was gone?”“No.” Nishiki’s eyes didn’t leave Kiryu as he walked toward Yuko. “Just Kiryu being weird—as always. Now, hurry up and take my picture. My face itches.”Kiryu learned that day to not look in Nishiki’s eyes for too long. They were dangerous. They were too easy to fall into.
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
18:53
Nishiki was about three hours in. He deserved a fucking smoke break, and he didn’t care if he was smoking indoors. He saw the other hosts and waiters smoke in the back area that separated the club from the kitchen, so he should be able to do it too.“Hello, Nishikiyama-san. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you here.”Nishiki quickly turned around. It was Kazuki. Shit. What should he say? Should he ask him to get him in contact with Kazama and Kiryu? No. He couldn’t. Nishiki was still chickening out. He surely looked like an idiot right now, not talking and with a cigarette limply hanging from his lip.Yuya popped up from behind Kazuki. “Nishikiyama has been helping us with the pre-midnight rush tonight.”“Has he?” Kazuki gave a slight bow toward Nishiki. “Thank you for the help, Nishikiyama-san. You will be compensated accordingly.”Nishiki could only lamely say, “Thanks.”“Ah, Kazuki-san!” Yuya pointed his thumb to the kitchen. “The chef used rotten shrimp in the drunken cocktails, so some of the hosts are out shitting their guts right now.”Kazuki’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is that so?”“Yeah. You can’t make this shit up, boss!” Yuya looked more annoyed than Kazuki did. Or maybe Kazuki didn’t have an expressive face. Or maybe Yuya had an overly expressive face. Or maybe it was both. “So, we’re short-staffed on waiters and hosts right now.” Yuya glanced back toward the club, which had gradually grown louder as the night went on, but it was still the “pre-midnight” crowd apparently. Nishiki assumed that the post-midnight crowd – which likely consisted of off-the-clock hostesses, prostitutes, and cabaret club workers – was rowdier. “This is one of our busiest nights ever—on a fucking Tuesday,” Yuya muttered. “Did we put out more flyers or something? Is there a special tonight that I don’t know about?”“No. There have been no changes tonight.” Kazuki shook his head. “How short-staffed on hosts are we? There are customers waiting to be seated.”“We’re missing Haruto, Musashi, and Haru.”“I see.” Kazuki seemed to think for a moment before his eyes landed on Nishiki. Uh oh. “Nishikiyama-san,” he said with a slight bow, “I know you have been helpful to us all night, but I will like to request a favor from you.”“No,” Nishiki said. Absolutely not.“What do you mean ‘no’?” Yuya’s jaw tightened. “You can’t talk to Kazuki-san like that!”“No, Yuya. It’s alright.” Kazuki held his hand up. “I know that this is a lot to ask, Nishikiyama-san, but I will only ask for you to fill one table. Only long enough to keep the waiting customers satisfied.” Nishiki shook his head. Sure, he had pushed himself to do the stupid noodle delivery thing and to deliver drinks, but he knew his limits. Being a host was out of the question. “I will personally be filling another table,” Kazuki added. “If that brings any reassurance to you.”It didn’t.“C’mon, Nishikiyama,” Yuya jumped in. “Those girls who’re waiting were checking you out when you walked past them, man. They’re into you!”“They wouldn’t be into this.” Nishiki pulled off the glove from his left hand, showing off his missing finger.Yuya blinked. “Just… keep the glove on?”Nishiki huffed through his nose as he shoved his glove back on. “It’s more than just the finger. It’s this, too.” He offhandedly pointed to his face, to the scars. He had long abandoned his sunglasses for the night so that he could see properly. His face had been on display to strangers – strangers that put high stock in looks, especially – and he had forced himself not to pay attention to their potential reactions. He caught the pitying gaze of an older woman, the damn near offended glare from a host. His face was so fucked now.“We have makeup, if you like,” Kazuki offered. “Though I think you look fine. Some women enjoy a man with a ‘rugged’ appearance. It makes them seem more masculine and mysterious.”Nishiki only ever wore makeup once, to surprise Yuko by playing as some girly guy character in a play. Kiryu had also been acting weird the whole time. Nishiki could never figure out why. And “masculine”? Kiryu said something about Nishiki looking like a “girl” and “cool,” some weird nonsense that Nishiki couldn’t stop thinking about for weeks afterward.Well, it didn’t matter now. He didn’t look “cool” or like a “girl” anymore, or “masculine” either. He didn’t look like anything anymore. He just looked like a nobody who had bit off more than he could chew, and he had to wear his punishment all over his skin.Nishiki puffed hard on his cigarette. Kazuki was giving him a measured yet expectant look, and Yuya was giving him a dumbass hopeful look. Nishiki exhaled smoke through his nose. He could see why Kazama liked these guys. Saying no to them would be like kicking a puppy.I’m doing this for you, oyasan. But the thought was empty. This was what Kazama wanted, sure, but what was the bigger picture? Kazama always came equipped with off-the-wall ulterior motives. Nishiki would probably bust a vein trying to figure out his schemes and plans.Nishiki’s shoulders tensed. “I need a beer first.”Yuya immediately nodded. “I got you! You’ll be at table three. Kazuki-san will be at table one.” He rushed off to the back to get Nishiki his beer.Kazuki had a certain look on his face, but Nishiki didn’t feel like figuring it out. He focused on his cigarette and calming his incoming nerves.
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
19:00
“Sorry for the wait.” The leather sofa cushion squeaked as Nishiki sat down. He hoped that the pumping music disguised the sound. “How are you two ladies doing tonight?” Nishiki had been given two older women to serve while Kazuki took on a small bunch of younger women. Older women seemed easier, for sure.“Ah, we’re doing well~!” The woman wearing a blue dress and emerald earrings said.“We’re doing better now that you’re here.” The other woman wearing a white, fuzzy sweater moved closer to Nishiki. He forced himself to stay still. “You’re so handsome~! We’ve never seen you here before.”And you never will again. But, of course, Nishiki couldn’t say that. “I’m a special guest, just for tonight.”“Ooh,” White Sweater purred. “You’ll be back again, won’t you? I’m already obsessed with you.”“You’ll be my husband for tonight, won’t you?” Blue Dress butted in. “And every other night for the rest of my life, too?”Jesus Christ. Who was the client here, these women or Nishiki?Nishiki tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. Two horny, tipsy women weren’t supposed to be making his skin crawl with anxiety.Play it cool. Be like your old self. What, was the third time today Nishiki had told himself that? He already figured that he would never be his old self again, but now he was beginning to think that it was impossible to even put up the façade of his old self, too.
Monday, September 2, 1985
Fuchu
Fuchu-yu
23:29
Kiryu was seventeen. Nishiki was sixteen-ongoing-seventeen. Today was the first day of the second trimester of school, and also the day that they dropped out. Last week, they had been officially sworn in to the Dojima Family. Last week, they had their ceremony to officiate their bond together as kyodai, officiated their tie as kobun to Dojima Sohei, their oyabun. Today was their last day living in Fuchu, living in the Sunflower Orphanage. Tomorrow, they moved to Kamurocho. Tomorrow, they would become men.Nishiki had insisted upon that their last day in Fuchu would be one to remember. They went everywhere. The arcade that Kiryu frequented. The clothing store Nishiki frequented. The old convenience store that they always got snacks from. The spot in the forest that they would secretly smoke and drink at (before Kazama said they were old enough to do so publicly). The one fancy restaurant that they would only look at through the window – but with the hearty allowance that Kazama had given them last week, they ate a three-course meal there today.They went to the park to give one last ass whooping to their former schoolmates. They hit up the food carts, both the good and bad ones, for some barbeque and meat skewers. They went to the shrine, to pray to the parents that they didn’t know to watch over them. And now, they ended the night at the onsen.Nishiki had been more than happy to get out of Fuchu, but Kiryu felt an odd sense of reluctance. Of course he was also happy. His dream of joining the yakuza, of following in Kazama’s footsteps, was coming true. Even if he wasn’t in the Kazama Family for whatever reason, the Dojima Family was a big deal. (No one would be a bigger deal than Kazama for Kiryu, though!) It was just going to be weird. Taking the sudden leap from boyhood to manhood. Having to say goodbye to Yumi and Yuko.Nishiki had reminded him that they weren’t going to be separated forever. Kamurocho was just an hour’s drive or train ride away from Fuchu. And Yumi and Yuko were going to grow up, too. Once they made the leap from girlhood to womanhood, they’ll probably choose to live in Kamurocho too, because that’s where everybody was. Kiryu and Nishiki would open up their homes to them, right?“Yeah,” Kiryu had said. “You’re right.” Because Nishiki was better at thinking ahead than he was.They were in their room in the ryokan, toweling off from their soak in the hot springs. Kiryu was admittedly tipsy, but Nishiki was definitely drunk. They had been sporadically drinking all day, and Nishiki had been throwing back cans of beer like they were water. His movements were slow and lethargic now. The springs had definitely turned him into goo.Kiryu knew that getting into the onsen while drunk was dangerous, but to hell with it. They were going to be involved in more dangerous shit by tomorrow. Who cared?“Kyodai!” Nishiki called out. The word didn’t fail to bring a warm hum in Kiryu’s chest. It was like Nishiki couldn’t stop saying it, “kyodai,” now that it was official. “Look!”Kiryu went toward Nishiki’s side of the room. It looked like he had given up with putting on his yukata when he was halfway through. The front was open, showing off his chest, and it was halfheartedly tied. Well, it wasn’t as if Kiryu was in a dissimilar state, but Nishiki was showing off a lot more chest than him. And Nishiki’s hair limply hung in wet ringlets around his shoulders. The product had worn off as the day had gone on, and it seemed like he had given up on drying his hair, too.Nishiki looked good like this. He looked warm. The flushed tone of his chest gave it away. He was drunk and warm and happy, smiling up at Kiryu as he showed off a sake set he found underneath the table. “C’mon, bro. Let’s do it again.”“What?” Kiryu took a seat next to Nishiki on the tatami floor, because it didn’t look like Nishiki was getting up any time soon.“Let’s do the kyodai-sakazuki thing again.” Nishiki was already pouring the flask of sake into the two flat, saucer-like cups he pulled out. A citrus scent filled the air. “Just for us?”“Why?” Kiryu asked, because being half-drunk made his brain run at an even lower speed.“Just for us,” Nishiki repeated.“We don’t have any salt.”“Shut up. We don’t need salt.” He passed a cup over to Kiryu. “Here, oyaji.” His voice took on a mockingly overly sweet tone. Kiryu let out a snort through his nose as he accepted the cup. “You know what this reminds me of?” Kiryu nodded for Nishiki to go on. “It’s like we’re getting married, right?”“I… guess so.” Kiryu hadn’t thought about it that way, but now that Nishiki said it, yeah. It was like they had gotten married. This sort of ceremony, drinking sake together, was done during Shinto weddings, three times each by each person. If they did it a second time now, what did that mean? Did that mean they were a step away from being brothers, a step away from being married? No. That doesn’t make any sense. Maybe I’m drunker than I thought… “Does that mean we’re married to Dojima-kumicho, too?” Kiryu asked, because he had a thing for always accidentally ruining the moment.Nishiki wrinkled his nose. “Ew. Why would you say that?” He did that laugh he only did when he was drunk. A laugh that was a little off-kilter, a little watery. “What, you wanna get married to Dojima? Don’t tell me you’re into guys like him.” Nishiki stuck his tongue out. Drunk Nishiki was Fun Nishiki.“No.” Kiryu held up his cup. Nishiki followed in suit. “If we got married,” Kiryu started, not thinking, “who’s the husband and who’s the wife?”Nishiki frowned, which came out as more as a pout, like he was a kid who got denied being given his favorite candy. “We can’t both be the wife?” He hiccupped. “I mean—husband. We can’t both be the husband?”“I can be the husband, since you’ve always been my wife.” Again, Kiryu wasn’t thinking. His mind was on autopilot right now. Maybe the onsen had turned his brain into mush or something.“Kyodai,” Nishiki breathed out, pretending to sound serious. “I hate you.” He held up his cup. Kiryu followed in suit.“You don’t mean that.”“Yeah. I wish I did.”They clicked their cups together and drank. The sake was just as sweet as it smelled. Kiryu wasn’t usually into fruity drinks, but it felt like a good way to end a day filled with cheapo, convenience store beer.“Hm.” Nishiki took Kiryu’s cup and set them aside on the table. “You’re so weird, but I kinda like it.” Kiryu didn’t have anything to say to that, so he just nodded. Nishiki’s eyes suddenly darted down. “Holy shit. You need a bra, bro. Put your tits away, man.”Kiryu looked down on himself. His pecs had tightened up a lot more lately, yeah. He had been roped into some sort of weird favor at the local gym over the summer, which involved a lot of bench presses and selling sardines. (It was a long story.)“What about your tits?” Kiryu fired back. Nishiki didn’t really have “tits” or whatever, but his chest was well formed enough. Kiryu told him that if he worked out more, then he could really tone up. Nishiki always put off seriously working out for another day, though.It was Nishiki’s turn to glance down on himself. “What about them?” His yukata had slipped open even further, falling from his shoulder, and even his shoulder was rosy from the heat, from the alcohol. “You don’t wanna look at your wife’s tits?”“…Don’t be weird.”“You can be weird, but I can’t?”“It’s weird when you’re weird.”“Oh yeah?” Nishiki seemed to find that funny, because he laughed. Would he even remember this conversation tomorrow? “You don’t like it when I’m weird?”“No.” Kiryu had lost track of their conversation a long time ago, ever since they renewed their vows. He changed his answer to, “I don’t know,” because it felt more honest.“Is this weird?” Nishiki reached out and touched the opened sides of Kiryu’s yukata. He pulled himself closer, until Kiryu could smell the lingering scent of autumn, of maple; the fading scent of Nishiki’s cologne, of warm spice, amber, and cinnamon; and the clinging scent of cigarettes and beer and hope and the future and no regrets. “Kyodai?”“What?” Kiryu blinked. Back to reality. Nishiki was so close, and his eyelashes were wet, and his lips were pink.That weird heart thumping feeling, that breathless feeling – Kiryu hadn’t felt that way since last year, during the play. Then, he could’ve blamed it on seeing Nishiki in a new light, since he was playing a character whose purpose was to be impossibly beautiful and ethereal, but what was his excuse now? This was just Nishiki. A Nishiki that was more toned down, too. No hair products, no wannabe flashy clothes, and his brain-to-mouth filter was just as drunken and clogged up as Kiryu’s. So, what was the reason Kiryu was feeling this way now?Probably because Nishiki’s hands tightened on Kiryu’s yukata, and his eyes flickered to Kiryu’s lips. God knows why. “We’re not married yet,” Nishiki murmured. Kiryu nearly missed what he said. The words were slightly slurred over. “What do you mean, ‘you’ve always been my wife’? What does that mean?”Kiryu had nearly forgotten he said that. “‘Cause…” He shrugged. “It’s a joke. I don’t know.”“Because I look like a girl?”“You don’t look like a girl.”“You only like me when I look like a girl, though.”“What? I never said that.”“I saw it.” Nishiki pulled at Kiryu with a frown. “That night. You looked at me different. Only because I looked like a girl, right?”“No…” Kiryu was breaking his self-imposed rule. He was looking into Nishiki’s eyes, damn near drowning in them. (But he broke that rule all the time. It didn’t matter.) “Because you looked… pretty.”Nishiki’s face softened. “Girls are pretty. I’m not a girl. I’m not pretty.”“You’re handsome?” Kiryu tried.“But I’m your wife. Wives aren’t handsome.” Nishiki laughed and laughed suddenly. Probably because Kiryu had a dumbass, confused look on his face. Nishiki leaned against Kiryu’s shoulder as he calmed down. He was so warm. Kiryu wanted to wrap his arms around him. He didn’t know why, though. So, he didn’t do it. “And you’re handsome,” Nishiki slurred out.“And you’re drunk.” Kiryu moved so he could set up Nishiki’s futon for him, but Nishiki pulled him back. “What?” To the outside ear, Kiryu would’ve sounded annoyed. But Nishiki had an inner ear. He probably knew the strange, dizzying effect he had on Kiryu. Like some sort of magic spell.“I can’t call my husband handsome?” Nishiki didn’t give Kiryu a chance to answer. Kiryu didn’t have an answer, anyway. He was just dumbly looking into Nishiki’s eyes. “Wait. We’re not married yet,” he repeated.“We just did the ceremony—”“No, no. We have to kiss.” Nishiki puckered his lips and did an obnoxious kissy sound. “C’mon, kyodai. Seal the deal. Kiss the bride.”Kiryu pushed Nishiki away by the forehead, ignoring the hard thump in his chest. “Go to bed,” he grunted.“Marry me first.”“Go to bed first.”Nishiki let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Fine.” He silently watched as Kiryu set up a futon for him. “Thank you, kyodai.” That was the sincerest he’s sounded since they stepped in the ryokan. Maybe he was winding down now.But when Nishiki laid down, pulled the blanket over himself, he looked up at Kiryu, expecting. Kiryu – out of breath, out of everything – allowed Nishiki to pull him down, wrap his arms around his neck, let their foreheads touch.Nishiki closed his eyes. Kiryu couldn’t. “We did it, kyodai,” Nishiki said. A soft smile settled on his face. “Everything we’ve wanted—it’s actually happening. Can you believe it?”“No.” Kiryu tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He hadn’t been this close to Nishiki since they were little kids. When one of them would have a nightmare and crawl into the other’s bed. “I can’t believe it.”“Me neither.” Nishiki slowly opened his eyes. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my brother. We’ll do everything together. We’ll rise together. We’ll fall together. We’ll live together. We’ll die together. Got it?”“Yes.” Kiryu wasn’t as articulate as Nishiki, but he’s always felt those words in his heart. Always. “Kyodai.” That was the only word he could think of to express how he felt. My brother. My best friend. Because his chest was ready to burst. He couldn’t stop looking at Nishiki, and Nishiki couldn’t stop looking at him.“Kyodai.” Nishiki let his hands slide down to Kiryu’s shoulders. “My kyodai.” He pulled Kiryu down, impossibly closer, until Kiryu completely laid his weight on Nishiki’s chest. “Tomorrow. It all starts tomorrow.” Kiryu slightly nodded, as much as he could without bumping their heads too much together. “Do you… think we’ll be different? Over time?”“Maybe.” Kiryu didn’t know. People changed over time. It was natural. But Nishiki was probably asking if they were going to completely change, to become completely different people. Kiryu couldn’t predict the future, but he hoped not. “I don’t want to change too much.”Nishiki let out a soft laugh. “I knew you would say that. I don’t want you to change too much, either. I don’t want to change, too. It’s dumb, but I don’t want to… lose myself, I guess.”“You won’t,” Kiryu said without hesitation. “I’ll make sure you won’t.”“I knew you would say that, too.”Nishiki looked at Kiryu for a moment. Maybe it was for only a few seconds, maybe it was for a full minute. Either way, it was enough time for him to make his decision. He leaned up – until his breath mixed with Kiryu’s, until Kiryu was too shocked to move – and he pressed their lips together. It was so chaste, barely felt like a kiss. More like a touch, an affirmation.“There,” Nishiki breathed out. “We’re married now.”Kiryu huffed through his nose.Nishiki’s hands wandered up from Kiryu’s shoulders to his hair. “One more?” What the hell was Kiryu supposed to say to that? “One more.” Nishiki kissed the corner of his lips. “You owe me. C’mon.”“Owe you for what?” Kiryu almost couldn’t get the words out.“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out later.”Nishiki pressed their lips together again, and again, and again. Longer. Longer than a simple touch, becoming an actual kiss. Nishiki’s lips tasted sweet with citrus, bitter with nicotine. His lips were so soft, so giving.Kiryu didn’t know what to do. He didn’t kiss Nishiki back. He didn’t know how to, didn’t know if he should. But he felt warm all over. He felt good. He felt closer to Nishiki than he ever had before.Maybe it lasted for two minutes, three minutes. And then Nishiki fell asleep just like that, with his hands slowly falling from around Kiryu. Kiryu didn’t move for a long time. He wanted to pinch himself, slap himself. Did that really just happen? Was he dreaming? Was he going to wake up passed out drunk in the forest somewhere?The next morning, when they gathered their bags and boxes into a car that Kazama sent, driven by a lackey, Nishiki said he was going to miss Fuchu. And that he hoped they had fun during their last day, because he didn’t remember what happened – especially whatever happened last night.
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
23:11
Nishiki eventually learned what his limit was: the post-midnight crowd. When the hostesses, brothel girls, streetwalkers, cabaret girls, and so on and so forth began to filter into the club, he just couldn’t do it. Flashes of his life in the ‘80s and ‘90s were blinding him. This used to be his crowd. This used to be his playing field. This used to be his stepping stone on the way to the top.He didn’t know how he managed to walk outside of the club, through the back. He made himself look as calm as possible, even waved to a passerby Yuya, and then he proceeded to puke his guts out in the back alley. His lips were still tingling. Too much, too soon.Nishiki was going back to his apartment and calling it a night. Kazuki and Yuya would just have to figure something else out. Hopefully the diarrhea-ridden hosts were back and they could snaggle in another waiter. Nishiki had to go. He tried.
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
Kamurocho
Theatre Avenue
23:17
“Is that him, aniki?”Nishiki’s ears automatically perked up. Alarms were going off in his head, thousands. He tried to keep his same steady pace, not to raise suspicion, but he had a feeling that he was out of time. He wrapped his hand around his gun.“Yeah, aniki. Is that the guy you’re looking for?”The voices were coming from the left. Nishiki tried to turn his face to the right as far as possible. Shit. He forgot to put his sunglasses back on before he left Stardust. But he had a feeling that it wouldn’t matter, anyway.Who the hell was it? Who the fuck was this “aniki” that these fuckers were loudly muttering about? It couldn’t have been Majima. Majima was such a stickler about being called “Majima-no-niisan.” (“I ain’t yer fuckin’ aniki!” Nishiki had seen him yell once at a new subordinate. And then he gave that chinpira a roundhouse kick to the face.)“Dojima-no-aniki!” Nishiki’s insides froze. “I think that’s him!”“Daigo-no-aniki, it’s him! It’s the fuckin’ Kin Slayer!”“Get him!”Nishiki ran. He heard dozens of footsteps chase after him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Todo Building
0:00
It was as if Nishiki blinked. One moment he was running down Theatre Avenue, and the next he was face down on ceramic tiles in some building, in the dark, in the cold – his jacket and shirt had been stripped off, he couldn’t move his hands from behind his back.It was like a long blink. It was like time had suddenly skipped – counting one, two, three, seven, eight, nine. But the throbbing pain in the back of his head put such foolish notions aside. Nishiki couldn’t remember it yet – the world was still trying to come into focus, he had to force his eyes to stay open – but he had been knocked out, dragged somewhere else to be finished off. He was sure of it. He wasn’t fast enough.Nishiki didn’t move. Was it the silence that petrified him, or what came next? Was he going to die like this? Snuffed out in a random building by – who was it?
“Daigo-no-aniki!”
“Aniki!”
“Dojima-no-aniki!”
Dojima Daigo. Dojima Daigo was going to kill Nishiki.It made sense. Nishiki couldn’t blame him. Getting revenge for your father was a no-brainer. Kiryu and Nishiki, Kiryu especially, went through hell and back to clear Kazama’s name. Killing Dojima Sohei meant killing a patriarch, a husband, a father. Committing patricide and becoming the “Kin Slayer” meant living a life of having to constantly defend oneself against revenge, because you were permanently engraved into everyone’s vendettas.Nishiki had survived too many fights to count in jail from men inside and outside of the Tojo because of revenge. He had survived too many assassination attempts because of revenge. He was scarred because of revenge. He had his finger cut off because of revenge. He killed two more men in self-defense because of revenge. Dojima Daigo was the final nail in the coffin, wasn’t it? It was inevitable. They were going to torture him, weren’t they? They were going to parade his body to the headquarters for all the patriarchs to laugh and spit on his corpse. They—“To think you were a part of the yakuza. Stop your shriveling and face us. A man who is not afraid to kill should not be afraid of a woman and her child.”It was a woman’s voice, one that Nishiki recognized. He forced in a stuttered breath through his nose, likely his final breath, as he pulled his head up. It was as if weights had been attached to his neck, as if he was being dragged down underwater, but he did it. He looked up to face his punishment.The world was still blurry around the edges, but Nishiki would be a fool to not know the two figures towering above him. Through the darkness, they easily came into focus, pinpointed by fear, by wasted adrenaline.Dojima Yayoi looked the same as always, the ice-cold ageless beauty as many would dub her. But Daigo looked different, of course. Much older. He had to be damn near thirty now, huh? He wasn’t the twenty-year-old brat that Nishiki had last seen ten years ago, when he was officially sworn in to the Dojima Family, when he was being primed to eventually become the new patriarch. Keep it in the family, you know? That’s what sons are for. To carry the sins of their fathers.Yayoi was holding a katana. Daigo was holding a gun. Nishiki was kneeling before them. He had felt this feeling before over and over again, the feeling of knowing you were going to die. It was cold. It was always cold.It was raining outside. Nishiki could hear it now, breaking through the silence. It pounded against the windows. It must have been frozen rain. It must have been freezing cold outside, because it was so cold inside. Nishiki could feel the winter air crawl down his bare back. The fish was always swimming downstream, wasn’t it? This was the end.It suddenly registered in his mind, where he was. Through the nausea, the pulsating pain in his head, through the fear, his vision finally became one. He was in the Dojima Family office. Where it all started. Where his life ended. Where he made a decision in a split second, and nothing was the same.Nishiki flickered his eyes around. He couldn’t help it. What else could he do before looking his final death in the eye? The office looked… empty. Abandoned. Made sense. Who would wanna work where their patriarch had been murdered? The family probably moved locations the next week after Dojima’s death. But they wouldn’t feel the same pain that Nishiki felt. The flashes of Yumi’s face – unmoving, Dojima’s face – bloodied, Kiryu’s face – pleading for Nishiki to run away.“Look at us,” Yayoi ordered. Her voice was neither angry nor sad. It was hollow, yet it filled the space of the emptied room. Nishiki had no choice but to look. “It’s been ten years since the day he died,” Yayoi continued, voice low. “I am aware that countless men have attempted to kill you over the decade, yet you’re still alive. Why?”Why? That was a question Nishiki didn’t know the answer to. He asked himself that every day. Why was he still alive? He could’ve died in Tokyo Prison. He should’ve died in Tokyo Penitentiary. He should’ve killed himself a long time ago. He should’ve killed himself two mornings ago.Yayoi brandished her sword, pointed it at Nishiki’s nose. “Answer me,” she demanded.Defeat. It spread through Nishiki’s veins like ash. “Y-Yayoi-oneesan,” he choked out. If the room wasn’t so quiet, she probably wouldn’t have heard him. Nishiki let his eyes fall to Daigo. “Daigo…” There was no answer. Nishiki hung his head down. He wasn’t deserving of a quick death, but he still prayed for one.Yayoi moved the blade of the katana underneath Nishiki’s chin, forcing him to look up. How hard would it be for the sword to slit his throat? How long would it take for him to bleed out?Daigo leaned down, until Nishiki had nowhere else to look but his eyes. “I only have one question.” That was the thing about Yayoi and Daigo, their voices were so calm, so still, never gave anything away unless they wanted to. Perfect for the lifestyle. “Why did you do it?”That was a “why” that was easier to answer. For Yumi. I did it for Yumi. But should Nishiki say that? Again, the truth could only be revealed through Yumi, and Nishiki had no right to share that story to the world. Even if it meant saving his life.If he did say what happened, would they even believe him? It would be more believable if he had said something like jealousy. That he wanted Dojima’s money and status and position. Which may have been true way back in the day, when Dojima used to be somebody, but he withered away over time too, even before he died. There hadn’t been much to be jealous of once Nishiki pulled the trigger. Yayoi probably knew that Dojima cheated, most yakuza wives got cheated on. But did she know what he would do to the women of Kamurocho? Would she believe it if Nishiki told her? Would Daigo believe it?No. The corner of Nishiki’s mind told him no. They wouldn’t believe it. They would probably think he was making some sort of last-ditch effort to seem “justified” until the end, making up a story where Nishiki was the “hero.” Nishiki wouldn’t believe it, either. Guys like him weren’t meant to be the hero.So, Nishiki closed his eyes. There was no point in fighting it. Not like he wanted to, anyway. “Do it,” he whispered. He didn’t have to psych himself up or anything. He just had to let go.The katana moved from underneath Nishiki’s chin. He allowed his head to drop down again. He could hear the blade rise, swing through the air. This was it. This was the end.“Wait.” It was Daigo’s voice.Nishiki tightened his nails into the palms of his hands, until he could feel the skin break. What, was Daigo going to suggest to prolong it? To torture Nishiki? To make sure he suffered? That a blade to the neck wasn’t enough?“Nishikiyama,” Daigo called out, his voice sounded faraway now. “Open your eyes.”Nishiki slowly opened his eyes. God. He wanted to cry. He could feel it building up in his throat. But if he was going to die by the hand of another, he should at least go out with the only shred of dignity that he had left. He would weep forever in the afterlife.Daigo had a hand on his mother’s arm, the one holding the katana. It was still raised in the air. At any moment she could strike down and it would all be over. It would be so fast, so easy.“Nishikiyama,” Daigo said again, as if he was still deciding his next words. Daigo was more of a fan of Kiryu, as people typically were, but Nishiki had been around for when Daigo was a kid, of course. Back when Daigo would call them “Kiryu-kun” and “Nishikiyama-kun” despite their age difference. Over time, they became “Kiryu-san” and “Nishikiyama-san,” on the same journey but on unequal footing. Now, he was just “Nishikiyama,” the one who killed his father and survived without any rhyme or reason. “You were Kiryu-san’s kyodai.”Were. Nishiki could feel blood gather in his fingernails, from digging into his palms.“Kiryu-san wouldn’t give me a reason why, either.” Daigo’s eyes flickered away, toward a window. The rain seemed to be falling harder. “I couldn’t… believe it. Kiryu-san—the one guy I trusted, my fucking hero—knew why his kyodai killed my dad and wouldn’t tell me. It shattered my world.” Yayoi’s eyes slowly turned toward Daigo, but she didn’t lower her katana. “After my dad died, it was as if… nothing happened. Kazama-san, Kashiwagi-san, and Kiryu-san got everything they wanted. Chairman Sera got everything he wanted. You went to jail. The Tojo Clan prospered. It was as if my dad never mattered, as if I never mattered, as if my mother never mattered, as if you never existed.”What the fuck was he getting at? Just sinking the knife in deeper before the final blow?“You can never truly know a person, but… I knew you and Kiryu-san since I was in diapers.” The stillness in Daigo’s voice was gone, replaced with a long-running sense of weariness. “I knew you two had your heads too far up your own asses to do anything without some sort of reason. Kiryu-san was the big damn hero of Kamurocho, and you were his sidekick of that era. So,” Daigo crouched down again, even pocketed his gun, squinted his eyes, “what is it? Why did you do it? I know my dad was a piece of shit—”Yayoi’s eyes widened. “Daigo—!”“It’s true.” He threw a brief glance at his mother and shrugged as if it was nothing. “I knew my dad was a piece of shit who deserved to die. It was only a matter of time. I just want to know, what was the breaking point? When did you pull the wool from over your eyes and decide—this is it? This is it. I have to kill him.” He slowly blinked. “After all of the shit he pulled, it must have been something personal, yeah? You and Kiryu-san always make shit… personal.” His voice ended in its typical whisper. That was one thing that didn’t change about him.Nishiki was just the “sidekick” of a bygone era? Nishiki was always left to rot in Kiryu’s shadow? A misplaced sense of anger bubbled up inside of Nishiki’s throat, even though it was unnecessary. Why get mad at something that he knew, that he’s always known for nearly three decades?But that didn’t matter. It was harder for Nishiki to control his anger now and days. His heart had been hardened over until it was rock solid. Through clenched teeth, Nishiki muttered, “It’s no secret that Dojima was a piece of shit. Everyone knew that.” He could hear Yayoi make a quiet sound, maybe of surprise. Nishiki didn’t even sound like himself to his own ears. It was as if a vehement spirit had temporarily possessed him. “It’s just…” It’s just what? Why choose your words carefully? You’re not going to make it out of this room alive, anyway. Nishiki couldn’t look at them. He settled on, “The stories.”“Stories?” Daigo prompted.“I… Everyone has stories.” That was the best way to put it. “To make it big, you need to have a big name. You need to have a big past, something people know you from. The bigger you are, the bigger the stories, the more fucked up they get—because it doesn’t matter what it takes to get to the top, even if you gotta claw your way up there, step on everyone to get there. And—” Nishiki didn’t mean to, but he choked on the next breath. Don’t cry. Do anything but fucking cry. “We take everything as stories, just shit that happened. We think, ‘We’re in the fucking yakuza. Of course, this guy killed eighteen people. Of course, this guy can make people disappear without a trace.’ We don’t think too hard about it. We don’t realize these stories are real until…” No. Nishiki should stop talking. He wasn’t making any sense, and it wouldn’t be a satisfying explanation.Daigo filled in the blank, “Until it happens to you.” Not a question.“Until… it happens to you,” Nishiki slowly repeated.Dojima Sohei was a legend. The things he had done were like folklore to Nishiki’s mind. Even when Nishiki had garnered his network of hostesses and other late-night girls, and he heard the stories firsthand, he had just… let them bypass his ears. Because – until it happens to you is all too true. Because it happened to the girls that Nishiki knew. Because it happened to Yumi. Because it became real.
Saturday, April 23, 1988
Kamurocho
Funny Bunny
1:37
Her name was Seira. She had dyed platinum blonde hair and rosy cheeks covered in blush. Was never seen without a smile. Nishiki knew her before he even knew Madoka and Yui. Seira worked at some club called Funny Bunny, where the hostesses would dress up in latex and wear bunny ears, based off some Playboy Bunny shit. Usually, chinpira liked to go there since the place was on the trashier side, but it was a good start. And Seira was their top hostess.It was 1988, but months before the shitshow went down. Back when Nishiki thought he had everything in the bag. He was still at the bottom of the totem pole, but he wasn’t some teenage grunt anymore. He was making more money than ever. He could fight, but Kiryu was pure muscle, and thus better at collections. Nishiki would handle the “business” side of things. He would collect info. And the best place to collect info was from hostesses, because yakuza loved to get drunk and yap their mouths off to them. It made perfect sense: befriend as many hostesses as possible, know everything. Know shit before it even goes down. Sounded like a perfect plan.And being surrounded by women, having a playboy image, was an added bonus. Because, no matter what Kiryu said, it was all about the image at the end of the day. Whenever Nishiki was with a group of girls, other guys would practically throw money at him – in respect, in wanting to know how he did it. But Nishiki was never going to reveal his secret. It protected him in more ways than one.Because Seira was one of the first girls that Nishiki had built a rapport with, it took some trial and error to figure out how he wanted his little hostess networking project to go. He talked to Seira too much, he decided. He got too close to her, because he cared too much about her. He gave her too little money. She deserved more. Funny Bunny didn’t pay her enough.She had been so sweet, so kind. She had shyly kissed Nishiki one night after he walked her home, because there had been some higher-up yakuza scoping out the club lately and it made her nervous to be alone. He would never forget how she tasted like strawberries, from the bubblegum she always chewed after work. She would say, “I don’t want dinner to taste like beer! I need to chew at least a pack of gum before I eat!”The last words she said to him were: “Thank you, Nishikiyama-kun. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” The next day, when Nishiki dropped in on the club, Seira wasn’t there.The other hostesses said she had shown up to work on time, and that Dojima had been hogging her from the other customers, alongside the other men he brought. The men had been threatening the owners, threatening to buy the place out. And then Dojima had dragged Seira away and had been gone all night. It wasn’t like Seira to leave in the middle of work with a patron.“Can you make sure she’s okay, Nishikiyama-kun?” The hostesses pleaded. “You’re part of the Dojima Family, right? Do you know where he could’ve taken her?” No, Nishiki didn’t know. But he promised to look around, even though he was wary.He tried to page her, but she didn’t answer. He went to Seira’s apartment. She wasn’t there. He asked her neighbors. They said they heard crying coming from her room, heavy banging against the walls. They said she already left about thirty minutes ago with a shady looking man.He went to the Dojima Family office and asked around. One of the grunts said, “It happens.”Another one said, “Dojima-kumicho likes to get around, man! He just grabs whatever random bitch he takes a liking to. They’re probably at one of his houses or a love hotel or something getting it on right now.”Another one winked. “He likes to take his sweet time.”They all laughed. Nishiki could feel a knot settle in the pit of his stomach.He went back to the club and told the hostesses that he couldn’t find Seira. That she was assumedly on a… “rendezvous” with Dojima, that she wasn’t home. The girls, still worried, thanked him for his help.Nishiki never saw Seira again. He tried to tell himself that women came and went. Kamurocho was about the fast life. It was best to get yours while it was still hot and dip out before you ran too low.Funny Bunny got bought out by the Dojima Family and spun into another club that was more sleazy, more expensive. It was as if the former club never existed. And Seira disappeared alongside it.
Wednesday, January 1, 1992
Kamurocho
Club Crystal
2:02
Her name was Chisato. She had long black hair and a face you only saw in editorials. Always wore Christian Dior. She worked at Club Crystal. It was a high-end club frequented by the wealthy, by the big shots in Kamurocho, yakuza and non-yakuza alike. Chisato was beyond elegant, drop dead gorgeous, had an ice queen vibe that suited the snooty atmosphere of the club. And she was their top hostess.It was 1992, and Nishiki was in some sort of transitory period in his life. He just didn’t know it yet. He didn’t know that his life was going to end in three years, one cold night in October. Nothing too out of the ordinary happened during the early ‘90s, thank God. (Well, outside of Kiryu getting kidnapped by the triad in ‘93. Kazama saved him, of course. Because shit was always going down with them. Nishiki stayed by the wayside.)Anyways, what was the transition? Was it Nishiki transitioning into a nobody without him even realizing? No. Because he had been rising up. But even back then there were whispers about Kiryu getting his own family someday, give him five or ten years. He was someone to look out for. Not Nishiki. Nishiki was just the middleman – for Kiryu, for Kazama, for the Dojima Family, for everyone. Which was fine. It was what he wanted, what he was good at, but… Damn. He was never in the running in the first place, was he? He was never going to truly be at the top, was he?That’s why Chisato was a huge score, because she knew what the top dog yakuza and businessmen were up to. She could help peer through doors that were closed for Nishiki. But she wasn’t a simple girl by any means. She wanted an equivalent exchange. She wanted to be Nishiki’s girlfriend.Nishiki didn’t mind if a girl called herself his “girlfriend.” That was fine. Better for his image. Sure, he would go on “dates” or whatever with the hostesses and whatnot, but it was all professional. How official dates with hostesses always go. Nothing too deep, everyone knows to play their roles. He just had to take them to a love hotel before they got too suspicious, too close to the truth.But Chisato was the closest thing to an actual girlfriend that Nishiki ever had. With her, without thinking about it, he had broken his rule of not letting any of the girls get too close. She would make him dinner at her apartment, was actually interested when she asked him about his day. He gave her his private telephone number, could tolerate having sex with her better than his other “girlfriends” because she didn’t ask why he could barely look at her. It was a win-win.She wanted to be his girlfriend for protection. Whenever clients, especially of the yakuza sort, got too close for comfort, Nishiki was something she could fall back on. “I’m sorry, but I have a boyfriend.” And it wasn’t a lie or excuse. Nishiki, at the time, was a real person. Tangible flesh and blood for her to point a manicured fingernail at. And if that wasn’t enough, he would beat the guy’s ass for getting too touchy. It was a pretty good deal.But it was really Chisato who protected Nishiki more than he ever did her. She somehow managed to figure it out on her own, one night when Nishiki escorted her home.
“Nishikiyama-kun, I’ve been doing some thinking and… you’re not attracted to women, are you? That’s why you’ve been using me, too. Like I’ve been using you.”
Nishiki felt like the air had been knocked out of his chest. He remembered immediately balling his fists up, wanting to get angry, wanting to get defensive, but Chisato wasn’t the kind of girl who backed away from empty threats. She was scary smart.
“You don’t have to confirm or deny anything. I know. Your secret’s safe with me, I promise. I just wanted to thank you for everything. I had thought it through, and it seemed as if there was no benefit in our ‘relationship’ for you, but I realized that you must be using me to protect your image, aren’t you?”
How did she see right through him?For New Year’s, the Dojima Family decided to celebrate in Club Crystal, since they basically owned the place. Dojima always had his sights set on the top hostesses, which was Chisato tonight. He practically kept her hostage the whole time, broke her diamond necklace at one point, spilled champagne on her. They disappeared halfway through the party, and Nishiki asked around for where she went, but no one had a clear answer. It was presumedly somewhere with Dojima.After the party, Nishiki saw Chisato on his way home. He almost walked right past her. He didn’t recognize her. Her usual opulence was gone, replaced with torn fabric and bruises purpling all over her face, her neck, her arms, her legs.She didn’t say a word, but her eyes said it all: Weren’t you supposed to protect me? Why weren’t you there? Why didn’t you save me? And she brushed past him, disappeared into the hungover early morning crowd, and left Kamurocho that same day.It cut deep. Dojima was hitting too close to home. Nishiki didn’t think anyone would cut deeper until—
Sunday, October 1, 1995
Kamurocho
Dojima Family Office
17:47
Her name was Yumi. She had medium length brown hair and was every guy’s dream girl. Ask the average man what kind of wife he wanted, and Yumi embodied all of that – face, personality, everything. She was more on the subtle side, but she could work her magic on just about anybody. She didn’t need the latest fashions or the promise of the fast life. She was a rock, sure and steady. Always there, never to falter.It was 1995, and Nishiki had told Yumi again and again to ask him if she ever needed help. But stubbornness seemed to be a common trait in the Sunflower kids, because she would only ask for help if she was on her last tooth and nail. Life in Kamurocho wasn’t for the faint hearted, it was for people on the grind – who liked to work hard during the day and party hard during the night. Yumi never seemed right for that lifestyle, but she insisted on being close to Kazama, Kiryu, Nishiki, and Yuko, and she insisted on making her own money.That’s why Serena was the best bet for her. That’s why Kiryu and Nishiki hooked Yumi up with Reina back in 1990 to work there. Sure, Serena saw some battle scars here and there, since it was inevitable with the company that Kiryu kept, but it was an easier, quieter place for the most part. One where Nishiki didn’t have to worry about Yumi staying overnight, one where Yumi was least likely to come across shady customers who wanted nothing but to take advantage of her.But what he didn’t know was that Yumi was struggling at the time. She could barely afford to live in Kamurocho, but refused to tell anyone. She wanted to earn her money, her apartment, her adulthood by herself. So, she secretly took up another job at a club called La Cité. This was the fatal error.La Cité was a club at the midpoint between sleazy and fancy, if such a spectrum exists. Fancy because it had a so-called French theme, sleazy because yakuza liked to frequent it. But Yumi put up with her newfound crowd of unruly patrons because La Cité helped pay the bills.La Cité suddenly became the new stomping grounds for a patriarch who refused to acknowledge that he was being snuffed out of the picture, that his glory days were long gone, that he was nothing but a puppet. But he knew that the puppeteers held something near and dear to their hearts: Yumi.
“You’re Kazama’s girl, aren’t you? Come closer to me. I don’t bite.”
So – out of anger, out of bitterness, out of jealousy, out of obsession, out of the darkness that had long wormed its way into Dojima’s cold, dead heart, he set his sights on Yumi. Because this is it. This was what was going to hurt Kazama. This was what was going to cut Kazama deep. What was better than sending Yumi floating down the river? Sending her back bloodied and bruised, sending her back with a memory that she would never forget. She was Kazama’s girl, but she would always think about Dojima – forever. He was going to leave his mark on her.Nishiki thought he wouldn’t be too late for Yumi. But he was. He was. He was always too late.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Todo Building
0:33
Nishiki leaned down, until his forehead touched the ground. The tile was cold, trying to cut into his skin, add to the collection of scars. He sucked in another breath. Maybe this one will be his last. At least he had gotten his side of the story out.“I don’t regret killing him.” Nishiki forced himself to sound confident. As confident as a man who was waiting for the guillotine to fall could be. “I only regret how it affected everyone. Dojima was a fucking monster—to everyone. To every woman that he came across. To you, Yayoi-oneesan. To you, Daigo.” Ever since Nishiki started talking, they had both fallen into an eerie silence. Nishiki couldn’t crack the looks on the Dojimas’ faces, so he stopped trying. “I understand filial piety—shit, that’s why I joined the yakuza. That’s why I got caught up in that shit in ‘88.” Nishiki gave a heartless laugh. “I’d do anything for Kazama-no-oyasan. But he gives in return. Dojima… He was never a giving man.”This was it. Those felt like decent enough last words, because they were simple yet honest. Nishiki wasn’t going to fool himself anymore. He wasn’t some sort of martyr, dying in vengeance for the women that Dojima had destroyed in the past. That wasn’t true. Because Nishiki knew, he knew the stories, he saw the stories, and he didn’t do anything until reality crept closer and closer, until it was Yumi.“Vengeance makes sense,” Nishiki whispered, more to himself than to the Dojimas. “I killed a father, a husband, and a patriarch. I must die. Kill me.” He didn’t sound like himself again. But instead of sounding like a vehement spirit, he just sounded like how he always was on the inside: a broken man, waiting for his time to come.More silence. It had stopped raining when Nishiki talked about Chisato.Who knew how much time passed. It had to be more than five minutes. This was torture enough, Nishiki not knowing when his own head was going to roll.Until Yayoi finally spoke.“Seira. I knew of her.” Her voice was as steady as ever, albeit quieter. “I found the girl dead in our basement.”Nishiki didn’t even feel shocked. It was a sinking feeling of confirmation of what he always suspected.“‘Filial piety,’” she repeated. “Look at me.” Nishiki only held his head high enough to look at her. Yayoi was still standing in front of him, but Daigo had walked toward a window, started smoking a cigarette once Nishiki talked about Yumi. Yayoi’s katana was wavering by her side. “How would it look upon the Dojimas if we allowed for you to live?” she asked, voice slightly louder.Nishiki didn’t understand the question. Was it rhetorical? She seriously wasn’t considering letting him live, right? He must have misunderstood her.Yayoi wasn’t moving. Maybe she was expecting an answer. Nishiki didn’t know how he could still move his mouth to speak. At this point, he felt like he had long floated outside of his body and was looking down at himself, kneeling, ready for death.“It… wouldn’t look like anything, because I was never alive.” Nishiki didn’t talk like this often. If he was letting the perpetually empty space in his mind out, the space that always desired death and nothingness, he would usually accidentally let it slip in a fit of anger. The sadness was only for himself. It felt foreign to let such thoughts leave his lips like this, especially in front of the people who held his life in his hands.Yayoi was still only staring at him, her eyes unmoving, but her hand on her blade continued to slightly tremble. She was bathed blue in the pale moonlight. The Todo Building was angled just right, to allow more of the swirling skies of Tokyo in instead of the endless neon of Kamurocho.Yayoi wouldn’t move, wouldn’t speak. It was like she was boring into Nishiki’s soul. It – angered him? saddened him? scared him? He didn’t know how to feel.She dropped her sword. Nishiki couldn’t mask his flinch.Daigo came back, tossing his cigarette aside as he walked over. He squatted down and picked up the katana, letting it rest in his lap. If Nishiki had to guess, Daigo looked detached from the situation. He never looked interested in the whole revenge aspect like Yayoi had. It seemed like he was more so interested in receiving an explanation.
Wait… Was Yayoi the same?
That was hard to believe. Daigo functioned as his own free agent, but Yayoi was a woman of traditional values and piety through and through. She should’ve cut his head off the moment Nishiki was dragged into the room. Why the hesitance?Daigo followed Nishiki’s lingering gaze on Yayoi. He looked up at his mother, who was no longer looking at Nishiki but straight ahead, at nothing. Her lips were tightened.After a moment passed, Daigo sighed, set the sword by his mother’s feet. “She doesn’t want to kill you,” he murmured. “She never did. She just wanted answers, too.” His words didn’t bring any relief to Nishiki. Not when there were tears running down Yayoi’s face.But Nishiki wouldn’t describe it as crying. He knew how to cry. When he cried, it was as if his entire body shut down. It was as if he could feel grief rushing through him and he was momentarily blinded. But Yayoi, she wasn’t crying. Tears were streaming down her face, but she was still unmovable. In that moment, he understood her. She was not going to kill Nishiki because she wasn’t like him, she was not a woman controlled by grief.“And,” Daigo suddenly said, “you can’t kill a man who’s already dead.” Maybe another man would be looking at Nishiki with some sort of misguided sense of pity, but Daigo’s eyes were purposefully blank as he stood back up, went into the motions of lighting another cigarette.Yayoi carefully picked up her katana. Her movements were fluid, as if her sword was returning to her hands by its own will. “We have lost enough.” A tear traced down her cheek as she looked at Nishiki, her eyes dark. “Never show your face to me again, or I will not hesitate to cut you down.”She turned on her heel and left.Daigo flicked his ashes in Nishiki’s direction. “Have you talked to Kiryu-san yet?” Nishiki didn’t answer. Daigo let out a small breath through his nose, gray with smoke, before he left.Nishiki allowed his body to completely collapse. This was the “why.” Why are you still alive? This was exactly why Nishiki couldn’t figure out the “why.” He let himself cry then. Let the sound echo against the dark, empty walls.Being spared by the Dojimas wasn’t a relief. Just like surviving his cellmate’s attempt on his life wasn’t a relief. It meant that there was someone inevitably worse down the line. Someone who wouldn’t be afraid to pull the trigger, swing the blade, lay the finishing blow.A sob clawed its way out of Nishiki’s chest. Why couldn’t he die? It was like some kind of curse. Death would free him from this living Hell, move him to the next Hell. Nishiki just wanted to be free. To sleep among the flowers, to be in a dream, to be where there was no loss.
“We have lost enough.”
Was Yayoi only referring to herself and Daigo? Was Nishiki included in the “we”? Was Nishiki allowed to still lose, or was he beyond that?Nishiki slowly dragged himself to his knees. His body felt so heavy.
“Have you talked to Kiryu-san yet?”
What has Kiryu lost?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Friday, December 2, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
17:30
The year is 2005, Kiryu Kazuma is thirty-seven years old, and he has no friends.Kiryu never thought that he would get to this point. He never saw it coming. Then again, he could never see anything coming. His life was unpredictable. He was likely born into chaos, judging from the unknown deaths of his parents. And he was probably going to die in chaos someday, he felt that much. But this intermediate moment of his life, he wasn’t expecting for it to be filled with such potent loneliness that he could feel the emptiness crawl down his back at night.What makes a good friend? Well, Kiryu can’t quite answer that. He can’t seem to make a friend stick. But he knew that a best friend, the once in a lifetime sort, came in blink-and-you-miss-it moments. There were slim opportunities. And the gaping hole a good friend left behind once they left was inoperable.“Good evening, Kiryu-chan.” Reina had a warm smile on her face as an assistant closed the door behind her. “How are you doing?” she immediately asked.“Fine,” Kiryu answered, because that was his go-to answer now and days. He nodded toward the chair in front of his desk and Reina took a seat. She was wearing a coat, but Kiryu assumed that her work uniform was underneath it. Once business hours were over, the nightlife began. Serena would be open in a few hours. When’s the last time that Kiryu visited it? He couldn’t remember. “How are you?”“I’m doing well.” Judging from the eased way that she spoke and moved to sit, she was telling the truth. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me.”Exactly. That was why Reina wasn’t his friend anymore. Friends don’t have to schedule meetings in order to see one another.Kiryu nodded for Reina to go on. She tightened her hands over her lap. “I… wanted to ask you about Nishikiyama-kun.”Kiryu knew that Reina was going to ask him about Nishiki, but he felt his stomach still tighten. He cleared his throat. “What about him?”“I heard that he was going to be released on Monday. Is this true?” Kiryu thought it over before he decided to nod. It wouldn’t be too harmful to confirm the rumor to Reina. She wasn’t one for gossiping, and she would especially keep info about Nishiki close to her chest. “Will he… be coming back?”“I don’t know.” It was the honest answer.Reina’s lips tightened. Gone was her sense of ease. “What if he does come back? What would happen to him?”Who knew. Anything could happen if Nishiki came back. The first answer that popped into Kiryu’s head was that Nishiki would try to kill him, but that was unreasonable, a thought born from nightmare-induced paranoia. The second answer that came to mind was that Nishiki was going to be killed by someone else, likely by the Dojimas or older members of the Dojima Family, but Reina didn’t need to hear that. (She likely already thought that, anyway.) Kiryu decided to settle on the third answer that came to mind.“If he decides to come back, he’ll be taken care of by me and Kazama-no-oyasan.”Reina’s eyes widened. “You two have a plan for Nishikiyama-kun if he returns?”Shit. Kiryu said too much. He tried to backpedal. “Only if he wants to come back—”“Where?” Kiryu only blinked, but Reina pulled hard at the thread he unintentionally offered. “Where would you two be keeping him? If he chooses to come back.”“Reina,” Kiryu sighed. “You can’t see him.”“Kiryu—”“If he chooses to come back, you can’t see him.” Kiryu folded his hands over his desk. It felt odd, doing this in front of Reina. As if she was a representative from another company and they were in the throes of a negotiation. “Associating with him would be dangerous. You could get killed.”Reina shook her head, more so to herself than to Kiryu. “Kiryu.” The lack of an honorific made Kiryu’s back automatically straighten. He sometimes forgot that Reina was older than him, had stayed in Kamurocho longer than him. “You…” Her hands clasped together on her lap, as if she was praying. “You,” her voice lowered, “know how I feel about Nishikiyama.”Kiryu did. Ten years ago, an hour after Nishiki had just gotten arrested, Reina had been sobbing in Kiryu’s arms. A few weeks later, Kiryu found out that she was sending letters to Nishiki. He had told her not to, that it would be a better idea to cut themselves off from Nishiki – because Kazama told them so. But Reina said she couldn’t, because there would always be a place in her heart for Nishiki. She couldn’t just stop loving him.Kiryu had understood her then. He understood her now. He couldn’t stop loving Nishiki, either. But reality wasn’t so kind. He had let Reina’s letters slide because they most likely never made it to Nishiki, anyway.“Please.” Reina’s eyes were searching, unmoving from Kiryu’s. Kiryu sometimes lamented his eyes. The best yakuza had unreadable eyes, as dark and as still as the night. Kiryu’s eyes were too clear, too honest. Kazama had told him that before, that it could be a strength instead of a weakness. But now it felt like a weakness, because Reina could tell the moment when Kiryu started breaking. “Did you two give him a place to stay?” Kiryu held his breath. “If you did, could… you give me the address? Please, Kiryu-chan?”“Reina… You can’t see him.” But Kiryu could feel himself falling apart.“Kiryu—”“No.” Kiryu could feel his voice raise on its own. Reina was unflinching, though. “What if you get killed? I can’t lose you too, Reina.”“Kiryu, you can’t…” She sighed. “I understand why you’re scared. You’ve been through a lot. You hold everyone at a distance now, but—” She cut herself off. “But—please. If he comes back, I need to see him. Just once.” Her shoulders slacked. “When he comes back, I only need to see him once, and then I’ll never speak to him again. Please.”There was a cold draft in the room. It’s been there all day. Kiryu could have called one of his employees to close a forgotten window, crank the heat up, but he didn’t. He could feel the encroaching December chill wrap around his hands, as if a ghost was rapping on his knuckles. Kiryu had too many ghosts to count. Maybe Kiryu had given up the moment Reina stepped into his office.Silently, Kiryu grabbed the notepad and pen on his desk and scribbled down the address to the apartment that he and Kazama had set up for Nishiki. Reina held the paper to her chest once Kiryu handed it over.“Thank you, Kiryu-chan.” She bowed her head. “Thank you.”“Once,” Kiryu reminded her. She nodded.“Thank you,” she said again. She carefully folded the paper and placed it in her coat pocket. “Ah, there was another thing that I wanted to ask you. How are Yumi-chan and Haruka-chan doing?”Maybe Kiryu would’ve given a subtle nod before, something to say that they were doing fine without speaking it out loud. But no. Not now. He kept his lips tight. He wasn’t going to slip up again.
Friday, December 2, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
17:45
An assistant directed Reina out of the office once her time was up. She thanked Kiryu again before she tightened her coat around herself and left. On to the next meeting. Kiryu followed another assistant to the correct room, somewhere on the eastern side of the floor.The Dojima Family office was on the top floor of the Millennium Tower, and the offices of Iron Trust, Kiryu’s business, were on the penultimate floor. Iron Trust supplied the most revenue to the Tojo Clan, which continued on the legacy and success of the Dojima Family. And it was as legitimate of a yakuza-affiliated business that Kiryu could muster up. Dirty money from the clan got laundered in and out, but so be it. It was for the best.Also, having a business with a dual clean-dirty front meant a lot of meetings from both sides – a lot, a lot, a lot of meetings. Kiryu stopped paying attention to the endless meetings he had to attend to about four years ago, when the business first started. All Kiryu had to do was pretend to take notes and zone out.At least Kiryu had a secretary who took detailed notes and summarized meetings for him so he could pretend to know what was going on. (She wasn’t anything like Marina, though. Just about everyone in Iron Trust were more so aloof and detached from one another. Kiryu missed the one-on-one connections he could form with his business back in the ‘80s. Now, he was at the top of a never-ending pyramid. He didn’t even know the assistants’ names anymore.)Anyways, Kiryu’s mind inevitably drifted to Nishiki, as it had been for the past week or so – or, the last ten years, really. What was it that Reina said?
“When he comes back, I only need to see him once, and then I’ll never speak to him again. Please.”
When. Why did she say “when”? Why was she so sure that Nishiki would come back?Because he has unfinished business. That was the most reasonable answer. Nishiki had a lot of unfinished business in Kamurocho, with the Dojima Family, with Kazama, with Kiryu. If he came back, that would be why. To kill me— To see everyone again. To… who knew. Kiryu didn’t want to think too hard about it. Plus, he had placed money in Nishiki’s potential apartment, so… maybe a part of him thought that Nishiki would come back, too.What was Kiryu going to pretend to write notes about today? He usually did random lists. Like: the top ten meals that only took fifteen minutes to make, the top ten underground fighters to bet on, the top ten new songs he wanted to sing at karaoke with Haruka, the top ten places to avoid running into Majima, etc.The theme of today’s list was the top ten people that Kiryu used to be closest to. Why? Because Kiryu wrote down Reina’s name without thinking about it.Now, he needed nine more people. Top ten lists need ten things, of course.Kiryu wrote down the first names that came to mind: Haruka, Yumi, Kazama, Kashiwagi, Majima, Shinji, Tachibana, Yuko, and… Nishiki.The meeting was over. Time to shake everyone’s hands and leave.
Friday, December 2, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
18:00
Kiryu tossed a bunch of shit in his briefcase that looked important. He was calling it a day directly at closing time. He couldn’t bear to stay afterhours today. He had woken up tired, and he had a feeling that he was going to be too tired to sleep tonight.There was a knock on the office door, a brief, fleeting tap that immediately alerted Kiryu to who it was, and he felt his shoulders tense. Shit. Not now. He already knew what he was about to be asked: “Kiryu-san, would you like to go out for drinks tonight?”“No,” Kiryu grunted without looking up. “Going home early tonight. You should too.” He knew his advice wasn’t going to be taken, though. He had a company of workaholics, which was both a good and a bad thing.When did life become a series of repetitious movements? How did Kiryu’s life become this? Work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep. He wasn’t expecting sleep tonight, though. Just thoughts about Nishiki, about will he, won’t he come back.(At least he got to knock a few chinpira out with his briefcase on the way home. Even as the patriarch of the Dojima Family, no one still seemed to recognize Kiryu on sight. Fine by him. A nice fight or two on the way to and from work was a good way to break up the monotony.But fighting admittedly didn’t even feel the same either now and days, not when everyone completely crumbled beneath Kiryu’s feet.)
Friday, December 2, 2005
Kamurocho
Kiryu’s Apartment
18:10
Kiryu tossed away his briefcase and shoes in the genkan. He could practically hear Yumi’s voice, trying to sound annoyed but failing to conceal a laugh. “Kazuma, how old are you? You know how to put your shoes away properly. Don’t be so lazy.”Kiryu tossed his jacket aside as he made his way to the kitchen. He preferred to get dinner delivered now and days because cooking was just too nostalgic. He could hear Yumi’s voice – “Kazuma, you’re making a mess! Here, let me stir for you.” Yuko’s voice – “Kazuma, can you help me make rice porridge? I saw it in a drama I was watching earlier, so I’m craving it now.” Nishiki’s voice – “Kiryu, are you seriously making curry rice again? Learn another recipe, bro!” Haruka’s voice – “Dad, can you please teach me how to make my own beef bowl? Mom said I’m old enough to learn how to make them myself instead of asking you to buy me them all the time…”Kiryu pressed play on the answering machine before he went to the fridge. He barely had enough to make stir-fried beef (aka, just throwing a bunch of shit together, frying it, and calling it a day). His stomach gave a loud growl in anticipation.When Haruka was younger, she would laugh. “Dad, your stomach’s so loud! I can’t hear the TV!” And he would flip her over his shoulder and spin her around, and she would laugh and laugh and promise not to bring up his stomach again – but she would do it again by tomorrow or the day after.The messages on the answering machine – all work related – served as background noise while Kiryu messily chopped up some green onions. Despite all the cooking he’s done over the years, he could never quite cut up vegetables neatly. He never really cared because it was going to be eaten anyway, but Yumi tried to teach him the proper way to cut vegetables from time to time. Kiryu’s hands just weren’t as graceful as hers, of course.Beep. “—You have two new messages. This message was received at 18:17 on Friday, December 2.” Kiryu’s ears perked up. That was only a few minutes ago. Beep. “Hi, Dad. I know you’re probably busy right now—”Kiryu quickly flicked the stove off and dialed back as fast as he could.The phone picked up after one ring. “Hello,” Haruka’s voice rang out. “This is the Sawamura household.”Kiryu felt a small smile settle on his face. “Hey, Haruka.” Saying her name was like letting out a sigh, a long sigh that had been kept in his chest for too long.“Dad?” she gasped. “Why are you home so early?” Her voice was so sweet, even filtered through the telephone static.“I went home early today.” Funny how “early” meant “on time.”“Oh okay. That’s good! You work too much.”I know. But Kiryu didn’t say that. He asked Haruka to tell him about her week instead.Kiryu cradled the phone between his neck and shoulder as he resumed cooking dinner. Hearing about the ins and outs of the fourth grade through Haruka’s eyes would always be more interesting than listening to the sea of business calls, both yakuza and non-yakuza related, that constantly flooded the answering machine.Haruka, midway through a story about how she searched all around town for a vending machine that still carried her favorite snack, suddenly asked, “Are you okay, Dad?”Kiryu nearly dropped the beef he was adding back into the wok. “What?”“You sound, hm…” She thought it over. “A little sad? I don’t know.”There was no hiding from Haruka. “I…” Was Kiryu sad? He honestly wasn’t sure. He felt weird. He didn’t know how to describe it. It felt as if he was waiting for something, but he wasn’t sure what exactly he was waiting for. “I have a friend who’s getting released from jail soon—after ten years.”“Really? Wow…”Kiryu thought back. He had told Haruka about Nishiki before, maybe only two or three times in a direct sense and countless times in an implied sense. Kiryu had long decided to keep things vague and to not bring up Nishiki explicitly, for the betterment of everyone’s wellbeing, as requested by Kazama.“Hm…” Haruka must have been thinking about what to say next. “Do you feel nervous? It’s okay to be nervous, Dad. You don’t have to be all big and strong and scary all the time.” She gave a lighthearted laugh, always making people feel at ease.“Yeah.” Kiryu huffed through his nose.“And your friend is probably more nervous than you are. It’s been ten years for them! The world is going to be a completely different place for them now. I mean, I would be really nervous! And your friend probably misses you, too. I think they would be happy to see you again after so long.” Her words were so simple, but it felt like Kiryu had a sunken stone in the pit of his stomach.“Yeah. You’re right, Haruka.” Kiryu was going to leave it at that.There was a muffled voice in the background, which was assumedly either Yumi or Yumi’s neighbor, Yasuko. Haruka said something in response before she turned back to the phone. “Mom said I have to help her cook dinner now,” Haruka sighed. “Oh, I forgot to ask! Are you going to visit for my birthday on Monday?”Now Kiryu felt like he had been punched square in the throat.“I’ll… I’ll be there on Saturday.”“Tomorrow?”Kiryu hated to dampen the excitement in Haruka’s voice. “Next week’s Saturday,” he murmured.“Oh.” It was like he could practically hear her deflating. “You have meetings?”“Yeah.”“Even over the weekend?” She and Kiryu sighed at the same time. “You work too hard,” she said again.Kiryu said, “I know,” this time. He wanted to apologize, but he bit his tongue. “We’ll do whatever you want together. Okay?”“Okay.” She paused for a moment before she said goodnight.A cool-warm feeling swirled in Kiryu’s chest as he hung up the phone. Disappointing Haruka was one of the worst things in the world, and he couldn’t seem to stop doing it.Kiryu went to turn off the stove. Dinner was done. Wait. He still had one message left on the answering machine. He turned it on before he got a bowl.Beep. “You have one new message. This message was received at 18:20 on Friday, December 2.” Beep. “Kazuma.” Kiryu froze. It was Kazama. “Let Nishikiyama make his own decision. If he chooses to come to us, let him. If he chooses not to, let him go. It’s his life. He can do as he pleases with his freedom.” That was it.Kiryu’s hands tightened into fists. He wanted to slam them against the counter. Monday, December 5 was Haruka’s birthday and Nishiki’s release date, and he wouldn’t be there for either of them.
Friday, December 2, 2005
Kamurocho
Kiryu’s Apartment
18:31
It was cold enough for Kiryu to drag out the kotatsu to the living room. He turned on the TV to a random evening news station before he sat down, dinner on one side and his notepad on the other side. Today’s list to pore over instead of focusing on work: the top ten people who were closest to Kiryu.Some names were easy to cross out. Reina was held at a distance now. Haruka was family, not a friend. Yumi was family but no longer a friend. It was complicated. Kazama was family, not a friend. Kashiwagi may seem like a father figure or distant uncle on the outside, but he was really more like an older brother, an always reliable aniki. Was Majima a friend? It was complicated.Shinji was dead. Tachibana was dead. Yuko was dead.Nishiki… It was more than complicated. Kiryu couldn’t even guess how Nishiki was going to feel, what he was going to do, how much jail had changed him, if he was even coming back in the first place.Kiryu found himself circling Nishiki’s name, over and over again, until there was nothing but spiraled ink covering the single character of “nishiki.” Until Kiryu could remember Yuko using what’s left of her energy to write in her notebook, could hear her faint voice in his head, “Nishiki-kishu: ‘an autumn where the foliage is as beautiful as brocade.’ My brother reminds me of brocade—and he reminds you of autumn, doesn’t he?”He did. He does.
Thursday, October 19, 1995
Kamurocho
Yumi’s Apartment
17:47
After Dojima died, everything changed.Kazama became the Second Patriarch of the Dojima Family. Kashiwagi became the Second Patriarch of the Kazama Family and the Captain of the Dojima Family. Kiryu stayed over at Yumi’s apartment whenever she asked him to, which was nearly every morning, every afternoon, and every night – because she said he made her feel safe.The first month was the hardest.For the first couple of weeks, Yumi was too scared to leave her apartment. She barely ate. She would frequently lose her train of thought. She would cry and cry, and there would be no consoling her. But the worst thing, Yumi told Kiryu a few years later, was the nightmares.She told Kiryu that she would sometimes see Dojima flash before her eyes whenever she closed them, and she wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night. She told Kiryu that when she was exhausted and her body shut down and forced her to sleep, she would see Dojima again – and again – and again. And she would wake up shaking, she would wake up crying, she would wake up unable to move.But there was only one night when she woke up screaming.After the Dojima shitshow, Kazama recommended for Yumi to move into another apartment, all expenses paid for by him. Why? For a change of scenery, he had told her. To keep her closer, he told Kiryu. Yumi agreed, promising she wasn’t going to stay any longer than a year.Her new apartment had its own separated bedroom and kitchen, different than the studio apartments they had all grown used to living in. Yumi stayed in the bedroom while Kiryu slept on a futon in the living room.The night that Yumi screamed then cried out Kiryu’s name, he woke up and came running to her bedroom in an instant, already fearing the worst. His first thought was that someone had broken in. That someone was going to kill them, that it was going to happen again. But all Kiryu found was Yumi tangled in her bedsheets, sobbing.Kiryu didn’t know what to do. He still felt weary toward Yumi, as if he shouldn’t be around her, as if his presence was doing more harm than good. But she kept insisting that it was fine. Such as that night, when she reached out to him – tears streaming down her face, her body trembling – and asked him to come closer.Kiryu, cautious, went to her side of the bed and knelt down, and she grabbed his hands, pulled them toward her chest, and he felt her hands shake, her tears trek down on to his knuckles. Through the dark, he could see that Yumi’s eyes were squeezed shut.They spent a few minutes like that in silence, Yumi never letting go of his hands. Kiryu didn’t know what to say. Nothing seemed like the right thing to say. What happened to Yumi was beyond what he little he could give her.When the trembles racking her body became less frequent, when she sniffled – trying but failing to stop her crying – she spoke: “I… I-I had a dream… about…” him. She didn’t need to say it.Kiryu waited for her to catch her breath, to decide whether or not she wanted to continue speaking. She decided to, through chattering teeth. “H-He… I… I was pregnant—with his… A-And my stomach, I-I slit it open and—” She couldn’t go on, but Kiryu got the picture.Kiryu felt sick, with anger, with sadness. Yumi pulled his hands closer to her. “Kazuma,” her voice was even quieter, “I… I don’t know what to do.”Kiryu didn’t know what to do either. He wasn’t the person to ask. If the problem couldn’t be solved with his fists, it was out of bounds. He couldn’t even ask himself what Kazama would do. He didn’t know.“Is this…” She slowly opened her eyes, long reddened from how often she cried over the past few weeks. “Is this my life now?”Kiryu shook his head, because he wanted to say no. He wanted to say that this wouldn’t be her life forever. He wanted to believe it, but he couldn’t guarantee it. The only thing he was certain of was that the future was uncertain.All Kiryu could offer was, “You should talk to oyasan.”Yumi sniffled when she closed her eyes again. Maybe five minutes passed before she nodded, came to a decision. “He said… He said he could get me some help…” She sucked in a breath like she was going to say something else, but she didn’t.Kiryu squeezed her hands. Whatever help – doctors, therapists, whoever – that Kazama could get his hands on, they were guaranteed to be the best of the best, and maybe they could help Yumi. Maybe Yumi would never be the same again, but anything would be better than this – than the Yumi who didn’t have the strength to eat and was too exhausted to sleep.Kiryu stayed like that for the rest of the night, kneeling against Yumi’s bed, holding her hands. He eventually fell asleep like that, he didn’t know when, with his head leaned against the side of the bed. The next morning, Yumi said that she couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
Saturday, February 3, 1996
Kamurocho
Yumi’s Apartment
11:36
Yumi started therapy in November. She got a job as a secretary in December. She got her own apartment in January. She got married to Kiryu in February.The day that Kiryu and Yumi got married hadn’t been anything particularly special. They never had a wedding or any kind of ceremony. They hadn’t discussed anything beforehand. It had just been a normal, average day like any other – like the day before and the day after.Kiryu was at Yumi’s apartment more often than his own. He practically lived there at that point, was just wasting money on rent on his own mostly-abandoned apartment. It was a routine that they had formed and soon settled into. They spent their mornings, afternoons, and nights together as much as possible. For instance, they usually spent their lunch breaks together whenever they could. They would either go out to eat somewhere or eat at Yumi’s place, with Kiryu picking up something on his way there or Yumi would cook.This was an afternoon where Yumi cooked, and Kiryu had felt more exhausted than usual. His days were either jampacked with action and-slash-or the mundane as is, but he had been on major collection after major collection, wild goose chase after wild goose chase all in one morning. Seeing Yumi, even for just an hour, was the only thing to look forward to.When Kiryu closed the door, it was like a switch turned off. He let his shoulders slump and a long sigh leave his body. He had smoked on his way to Yumi’s apartment, but he was already itching for another cigarette. He could hear Yumi in the kitchen, but he lingered by the door, let his head hang low. He was so fucking tired.He almost missed Yumi saying hi to him, but he didn’t miss the sight of her opening her arms to him. Kiryu allowed himself to fall into Yumi’s arms, as always, and let the weariness of the day seep through his skin.Yumi had gotten a lot better – anything was better than October, but Kiryu figured that she would never be “well,” she would forever be changed, a part of the Yumi he once knew would always be gone. But the nightmares were less frequent, and her head seemed to have gotten clearer, and she was going out more – all good things. Her wrapping her arms around Kiryu, pressing a slow kiss against his cheek – all good things.“Did you have a long day already?” she asked. Kiryu nodded against her. She always smelled like summer to him, of sweetness, of roses, of vanilla, balmy, promising; she always smelled like home to him, of I just made dinner, of let’s go to bed, of you can kiss me, it’s okay. “I missed you today. I…” She let out a small laugh, a light, nervous one. “Sorry. I know that’s a dumb thing to say, since we saw each other this morning, but—”Kiryu shook his head. “I missed you, too,” he admitted. He just didn’t know how to put it into words exactly until Yumi said it first. He had missed her today. That felt right to say.He could feel Yumi’s smile. Kiryu wasn’t a hugger, but there was something to behold within Yumi’s embrace. If Kiryu made Yumi feel safe, then Yumi made Kiryu feel secure – which was a hard feeling to achieve in a place like Kamurocho, with a job like Kiryu’s. He kissed her, pressed his lips against her smile, because he could, because he was thankful, because it was good that she was here.Kiryu wasn’t much of a kisser, either. Honestly, the only people he ever seriously kissed were Nishiki and Yumi. (He figured that kisses from hostesses didn’t count. Those were drunken kisses. And kisses from women who for some reason were mistaken that they were dating Kiryu also didn’t count. Those were awkward kisses.)Kissing Nishiki and kissing Yumi were completely different from one another, just in the way that the seasons felt different from one another.Kissing Yumi came easier over time. It was hard to put an exact timeline on their relationship, since everything blurred together, and it was a long time coming and fell into place so quickly at the same time. Yumi’s new apartment was a studio. And when Kiryu debated whether he should still sleep over or not, she said they could sleep on the futon together. Which led to her curling into his arms at night, which led to her kissing him good morning, kissing him goodnight, kissing him goodbye, kissing him because she trusted him, kissing him because she loved him.Kissing Nishiki had… been difficult. It had happened rarely, but Kiryu would never forget the feeling because – it was the most he ever felt, for a lack of better words. There was something about Nishiki that never failed to bring a certain warmth to his chest, to make his heart stop beating for a second. Kissing Yumi was nice, but Kiryu never felt that way about her. He wasn’t sure why. He never figured out why.Yumi brought Kiryu back to reality when she kissed him back. No, it didn’t feel like he was burning from the inside – like with Nishiki. He didn’t feel like his heart would fall from his chest and pierce his ribs – like with Nishiki. A month ago, this confused Kiryu. Shouldn’t kissing someone you didn’t mind kissing always feel the same way? But now, Kiryu decided it was different because Nishiki and Yumi were completely different people. Yumi emphasized the feeling of security when it came to Kiryu. Nishiki would push him away, implying – shame? guilt? remorse?“Kazuma,” Yumi murmured against Kiryu’s lips. “I can hear you thinking.” He huffed in lieu of an apology. She ran her hands over his chest before she pulled back. “Come on. I made dipping noodles.” She took his hand as they walked to the kitchen.Sometimes Kiryu thought that there was no better way to get closer to a person than sharing a meal together, especially a homecooked one. Yumi chuckled at the sound of Kiryu’s stomach rumbling as he haphazardly mixed his portion of vegetables and eggs into his soup.When Kiryu glanced up, halfway finished with his noodles, he saw that Yumi was just picking through her food, not really eating. Her lips were tightly pressed together. It didn’t take a genius to know that something was on her mind, too.“Kazuma,” she softly called out. Kiryu was already giving her his attention. He raised an eyebrow as he slurped his noodles. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately—well, I’ve thought about this for a long time, but especially a lot lately, just…” She set her chopsticks down. “Let’s get married.”Kiryu choked on his food.Yumi gasped and went around the table to pat at his back as hard as she could. Kiryu ended up coughing the noodles back into its bowl. “W-What?” he rasped out.Yumi’s hand didn’t leave his back. “Let’s get married,” she repeated.“What?” he repeated. Yumi only looked at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher. “…Why?” Maybe that was a better question – but what? Where the hell was this coming from?“Why not?” Yumi’s hand moved to Kiryu’s shoulder and she squeezed. She probably felt how tense his muscles had become. “You can’t say that it’s too soon. We’ve known each other forever. We’re best friends, aren’t we?” They were. “And we’ve liked each other for a long time, haven’t we?” Maybe… “Liking” people never really made sense to Kiryu. If someone was nice to be around, so be it. That’s how his mind worked, anyway. “And we love each other.” Of course. Kiryu loved all of them – Nishiki, Yumi, Yuko – in different ways, because they were all different people. “We’re together every day. You basically live here, so—we should get married. We should make it permanent.”Kiryu’s brain had completely stopped processing at that point. Yumi took his stunned silence as a cue to go on.“Kazuma,” she squeezed his shoulder again, “I’ve loved you for so long that it’s just a part of my life. It’s a part of who I am. When we were younger… Ah, this is embarrassing.” A steady flush rose to her cheeks, but she kept going, “When we were younger, I would have dreams of us getting married in a cathedral in Hawaii. And it would be a big wedding with everyone there—oyasan, Nishikiyama, Yuko…” She tried to blink the sad expression from her face, but it remained. “Well, I don’t need a big wedding now. I don’t need a wedding at all. Just… Just getting married to you would be enough.”God, Kiryu’s mind was in knots right now. He could only stupidly ask the same question again, “W-Why?”“Kazuma! Just think about it, okay?” She laughed. For a moment, the sound took Kiryu back to old times. Of gathering around in a circle in Yuko’s room with Nishiki. Of gathering around in a circle in Serena with Reina. Kiryu couldn’t help but give a small smile. (Then again, he tended to smile around Yumi without realizing it.) “I didn’t mean right now, if that’s what you’re thinking. Just someday in the future, okay? If you want to, of course.”It took Kiryu’s brain a minute or two to start functioning again. Long enough for Yumi to return to her side of the table and begin to actually eat, with an amused look on her face that wouldn’t go away.Getting married to Yumi… didn’t sound like a bad idea. She was right. They’ve known each other forever. They would do anything for each other. They were closer now than they ever were. And, most importantly, Yumi felt like home. She reminded him of their home from before. She reminded him of the idea of a home that always seemed unattainable for men like him – orphans, yakuza. Kiryu actually wouldn’t mind if it was officially an everyday thing between them, since he practically lived with her, anyway. He loved her, and she loved him.Why not? Yeah, why not? It made sense. It actually made a lot of sense when he thought about it.Sure, maybe Yumi didn’t bring the same fire in the belly feeling that Nishiki did, but maybe that was a good thing. If you were married to someone, committed to someone for the long haul, it was probably best if things weren’t… intense all the time. You would want something safe and secure. And that’s what Yumi brought to Kiryu, and that’s what Kiryu brought to Yumi. It made sense. It could work. Fuck, it made so much sense.“You know,” Yumi suddenly said, dipping her noodles in her soup, “marriage doesn’t have to be forever, too. If it doesn’t work in—let’s say… five years—we could just get a divorce. It would be fine. I… I don’t know. I just can’t picture us being apart, no matter what happens. You know?”Kiryu agreed. He couldn’t see anything tearing them apart.“Okay.” Kiryu nodded. “Let’s do it.”Yumi’s eyes widened. She dropped her chopsticks. They rolled onto the floor. “R-Really?”Kiryu nodded again. “Right now.”“W-Wh—?”Kiryu was already moving to stand. Why waste time? She said she didn’t want a wedding, right? Kiryu didn’t either. It shouldn’t take too long to get a marriage license, right?“R-Right now? Really?” Yumi scrambled to follow after him. “Kazuma, you only thought about it for two minutes!”Was Kiryu an impulsive guy? Of course he was. Was he being impulsive right now? Yeah, he would even say so. But it didn’t feel like an impulsive, thoughtless decision. It felt like a no-brainer. It felt like all the dots had connected and he finally saw the bigger picture for once, something Nishiki would always nag at him to do.Kiryu threw on his jacket. “Yumi, don’t make promises you can’t keep. You should take responsibility for your own idea.”Yumi blinked, and then she lightly pushed at Kiryu’s arm. “Oh, you’re joking. Kazuma, I thought you were being serious for a second.” Kiryu sometimes forgot that his serious tone and joking tone tended to sound the same. Yumi put on her jacket, too. “Okay. Let’s do this.” She let out a slow breath, steadying herself. “Do you know where your birth certificate is?”“What?”
Saturday, February 3, 1996
Kamurocho
Shinjuku City Office
12:22
With Yumi by his side, Kiryu managed to miraculously find all the documents that she thought would be necessary to apply to get married. They went to the city office and—“Everything appears to be in order,” the older woman they had been directed to said. She was wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that she had to glance over, and her wrinkled hands trembled as she set their paperwork down in a neat pile. “All we need now are two witnesses.”“What?” Kiryu and Yumi said in unison.The old woman, unperturbed, nodded. “In order to officially register your marriage, I need two witnesses to oversee the process—both over the age of twenty.”Yumi, with a worried line in her brow, looked up at Kiryu. “Should we call oyasan? Ah, no. He’ll be too busy. What about Reina and Shinji? They should work.”That sounded like a good idea, but Kiryu had his own idea. A faster one. He excused himself to walk outside of the office.Yumi didn’t look surprised when Kiryu came back dragging in two random chinpira off the street by their collars. The old woman had no reaction, either. She only slid over a piece of paper toward the beat-up young men. “Please sign here, and here,” she pointed. The men, grumbling and trying to preen their ruined gelled-up hair, signed the paper as directed.When Kiryu and Yumi went home that evening, retiring from a long day’s work, they received a phone call before dinner: their marriage was officially registered. They could pick up their marriage certificate from the city office as soon as tomorrow.Yumi kissed Kiryu again and again and again. She breathed out, “We’re married,” against his lips. The moment she said it, it felt real.
Tuesday, December 14, 1993
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
1:36
Would Kazama be willing to sacrifice a leg for Nishiki? Nishiki’s heart knew that the answer was no, while his mind told him to stop thinking about the same fucking question for the umpteenth time that day – that week.Nishiki sneezed, let his thoughts scatter with the sound. He groaned, “I can’t believe I’m stuck babysitting you,” for the third or fourth time that evening, which probably tallied up to the double digits over the course of the week. Kiryu had quickly learned to ignore him.Nishiki made his way back to the living room. Kiryu hadn’t moved from his stiff position on the futon, leaning against the couch. The TV was on, playing some sort of made-for-TV, bloodbath action film. Kiryu didn’t look like he was paying attention, though. He was chugging down a can of beer.Nishiki set down a bowl of vegetable soup on the floor near Kiryu’s side of the futon – and Nishiki set it down loudly, to make sure that Kiryu knew he was not happy with their current arrangement. Nishiki then set down his own bowl of whatever demon soup Yumi made for him, before he plopped himself beside Kiryu on the futon.Immediately, Nishiki could feel Kiryu’s body heat radiating like its own personal furnace. It was the middle of December and it was cold as balls outside, but they were both stripped down to their underwear because Nishiki had a fever and Kiryu was letting his bandaged skin breathe.Kiryu grunted as he pulled his bowl closer. He practically swallowed down his soup. It was the most noise he had made all day. He probably figured that Nishiki would be pissed no matter what he said, so he opted to shut up. That didn’t stop Nishiki from letting out a frustrated snort through his nose, though.It was just fucked up. Kazama’s mind was twisted and secretive and he obviously played favorites, but no one was allowed to point that out. It didn’t matter that Nishiki was going through whatever seasonal illness that was fucking him over, he had to take care of Kiryu. And Nishiki wasn’t mad at Kiryu exactly. He was just… He was just mad at everything. How everything was stacked against them and in between them. How he had been deemed the lesser one, a small fish in a big pond, since day one.Nishiki could feel Kiryu’s eyes on him, but he refused to turn around. He pretended to focus on the movie. Through the blood splatter, it looked like an old yakuza-eiga film. Nishiki thought it had been a horror movie. (What’s the difference, anyway?)“What’s that?” Kiryu’s voice was low and pained. Nishiki’s shoulders automatically softened.Nishiki gave a sidelong glance toward Kiryu. “What’s what?” Kiryu pointed his spoon at Nishiki’s bowl. “It’s… I don’t fucking know. Yumi made it for me.”“Yeah?”“Yeah. She said I should ‘sweat the fever out’ and made me this spicy ass soup.” Nishiki sneezed. “It tastes like shit.”“Then why are you eating it?”“‘Cause she’ll feel bad if I don’t.” Sure, Nishiki felt miserable eating the damn soup, but it would be more miserable to see Yumi’s face after not eating it when she went out of her way to make it for him, so – he made his decision.Nishiki psyched himself up enough at that point to slurp down another spoonful. Nope. No matter how many times he ate it, the soup still felt like hellfire in his mouth. He snatched Kiryu’s beer and gulped down the last few sips. It did little to cool his tongue, but it felt a lot better than nothing.Nishiki could still feel Kiryu staring at him. He tossed his spoon back in his bowl. “What?” Kiryu didn’t flinch at the bite in Nishiki’s voice. He never did.Kiryu shook his head, but he was still staring.“Stop fucking staring at me, man.” It was making Nishiki’s skin crawl. Like Kiryu was picking him apart with his eyes or something.Kiryu didn’t even blink. “Sorry,” was all he said.“Huh?”“Said I’m sorry.”“For… what?” Why the fuck was he apologizing? It was making Nishiki feel kinda bad.“Because you have to ‘babysit’ me when you’re sick.”Kiryu throwing Nishiki’s words back at him made Nishiki feel kinda sorta bad. He flickered his eyes away from Kiryu’s face and at something else – which ended up being Kiryu’s chest. Kiryu’s chest, which was bandaged to hell because he had been strung up and tortured and stabbed. Not even stabbed with knives. Those triad psychos stabbed him with needles and slit his skin open with razors. Nishiki’s eyes couldn’t help but fall on Kiryu’s left shoulder, where he said he gotten pierced straight through with a needle.“Shut up. Don’t apologize.” Nishiki sniffled. He blamed it on being sick. “Sorry I’m an asshole,” he muttered.“I’m used to it.”Kiryu had a small smirk on his face. And he had deep bags under his eyes. He shrugged off getting stabbed during random street fights or by Majima, but he couldn’t hide the pain and exhaustion in his voice now – which just deepened the perpetual thorn in Nishiki’s side.Nishiki didn’t know what to say. He felt like shit and he was taking it out on Kiryu. It was even shittier because he was aware of it. But Nishiki didn’t know what to do. When you’re mad at the world, there’s only a few tangible things to take your anger out on: yourself and the people around you.Bottom line: Nishiki felt bad for Kiryu, and he felt bad for himself, and he felt bad for even feeling bad for himself in the first place when he should only be feeling bad for Kiryu. It was fucking stupid, and it was probably making him sicker. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He could feel another headache gathering in between his eyes.Kiryu, with his limp arm that was slung over the couch cushions, outstretched his hand toward Nishiki. “Come here.”Nishiki asked, “Why?” Even though he automatically moved closer to Kiryu, until the skin of their bare legs touched, until Kiryu’s arm moved from hanging over the couch to wrap over his shoulders. Kiryu was so warm, and Nishiki could feel his bandages brush against his own skin. Kiryu felt real. He felt alive. He wasn’t that just a week ago.Kiryu was so close, Nishiki could feel him breathe against his cheek when he spoke, “Missed you.” Nishiki almost forgot he asked a question.“Stupid. We’ve been together all week.”“Missed you talking to me.”“…Whatever.” What the hell was Nishiki supposed to say to that? His ears were already hot from being sick, and they were burning even more now.Nishiki felt like he didn’t understand Kiryu sometimes. He didn’t understand why Kiryu felt the need to be the hero of every story. He didn’t understand what it was about Kiryu that made him so magnetic. He didn’t understand why Kiryu would sometimes look at him all starry eyed and shit, like Nishiki was someone to keep in high regard.He could feel Kiryu’s thumb brush against his shoulder. Kiryu was so close, their noses were practically centimeters away from each other. Nishiki could feel a confused heat begin to swirl in the pit of his stomach, as it always did when he got too close to Kiryu.What do you want from me? The question was on the tip of Nishiki’s tongue, because the way Kiryu was looking at him – it wasn’t something new. It was a too-familiar look of longing. Nishiki often thought that he was the only one, the only one suffering underneath the weight of their inexplicable connection, but Kiryu was better at… hiding it? accepting it? denying it? Nishiki didn’t fucking know. He had given up on trying to understand what drove him to Kiryu and what drove Kiryu to him a long time ago.Nishiki found himself whispering, “Kiryu?” And Kiryu pulled him closer, as if he was trying to drag Nishiki into his lap or something. Nishiki almost steadied himself by putting a hand on Kiryu’s chest, but pulled back when he felt his bandages.“Nishiki,” Kiryu whispered back. Nishiki could feel Kiryu’s breath against his lips, could smell the beers and cigarettes he had been binging all week, the antiseptic scent of his prescribed antibiotic ointment. Kiryu’s hand moved to the back of Nishiki’s neck, pulled him closer until their foreheads touched, until Nishiki could look nowhere else but Kiryu’s eyes. “You look… nice.”“Eh?” Nishiki blinked. Oh. Kiryu’s eyes were a little hazed over. The way he was drinking all day – all week, he was probably halfway drunk right now. Kiryu’s hand was on his neck and a tremble automatically traveled down his spine. Warm skin against warm skin. “Kiryu,” Nishiki whispered again. He wasn’t sure why.A small breath left Kiryu’s nose, hitting Nishiki’s lips, making him tremble all over again. Nishiki couldn’t help but think, God, I hate him. Hated how no one else could make him feel this way. Hated how it felt like Kiryu either didn’t give a fuck or cared way too much. Hated how he was reaching up, carefully touching at Kiryu’s neck, where the bandages ended.What do you want from me? Maybe the answer changed every day. The way that Kiryu’s fingertips were curling into Nishiki’s hair gave different answers, even the way Kiryu’s lips brushed against Nishiki’s. “Kyodai,” he murmured, before he just barely kissed at his lips again. “You look pretty.”Nishiki almost missed what Kiryu said. He was tempted to squeeze at Kiryu’s neck. “Stop making fun of me.” Nishiki was the furthest thing from pretty right now. He was as sick as a dog, felt like shit on the inside and the outside. He pressed his thumbs into the center of Kiryu’s throat. Kiryu didn’t flinch, just moved to give him another shallow kiss. “And stop being weird.”“Not weird,” Kiryu muttered, like it was a complete sentence. Maybe it was to his surely half-drunk mind. Maybe Nishiki was just looking for another excuse. Kiryu tried to pull Nishiki closer, kissed at his bottom lip. “I missed you.”How could just three words cause such a shock to go down Nishiki’s spine?Nishiki wasn’t sure who moved in first. It was most likely himself. Kiryu was – too shy, too full of himself, too over his own head – to initiate much of anything. He would brush their hands together, brush their lips together, and wait, wait for Nishiki to respond in kind. He would do this once in a blue moon, if they were couped up together for too long and if there were some drinks thrown in the mix.Nishiki tried to turn his brain off when he pressed his lips against Kiryu’s again and again and again. But it was hard. It was so hard. It always was. It was like there were at least three voices screaming in his mind at the same time. A fourth one started to yell when Kiryu pulled at him again, tried to drag him into his lap again.“Fuck,” Nishiki muttered. He pulled back, reconnected his lips to Kiryu’s neck. “You better not complain about your chest hurting tomorrow.” He mouthed the words into Kiryu’s skin, which made Kiryu let out a quick breath. To be fair to Kiryu, he hadn’t done much complaining. Nishiki pulled himself into his lap.Kiryu wanted Nishiki close, and Nishiki wanted him closer. Closer in a way that he could never figure out how to describe. If he could pull Kiryu into his body, meld them together as one, he would. He felt like he could in moments like this, with their hips connected and Kiryu’s hands on his waist and Kiryu’s tongue pressed against his.Nishiki wasn’t sure what it was. He didn’t catch when his first tear fell. He didn’t know what to blame it on. Maybe on the quiet sounds Kiryu was letting out. Maybe on the way Kiryu’s fingertips were digging into his skin, on the verge of leaving marks. Maybe on the way their hips were grinding into each other, and he could feel Kiryu beginning to harden against his thigh. It was too much, and it shouldn’t be happening. At least, that’s what Nishiki’s mind kept telling him.Every touch between them was always overwhelming, like an electric shock, like he was drowning. Why did it feel this way?Kiryu noticed Nishiki was crying before he did. Through the watery blur, Nishiki could see the concern on Kiryu’s face, written on his furrowed eyebrows, his confused scowl. “Sorry,” he murmured, and it still felt weird to hear him say that. He tried to wipe Nishiki’s tears with his thumb, but Nishiki pushed him away.“S-Stop. We can’t.” Nishiki was dying. “You know we can’t.”They couldn’t just get drunk and make out and writhe against each other and kill each other slowly and pretend that there wasn’t some great unknown thing in between them that they were unable to describe and unequipped to explore. Whatever it was, Nishiki was scared to death over it.Kiryu didn’t look scared, though. He just looked sad. Nishiki pulled himself off of Kiryu and laid down on his side of the futon, curled up into himself. After a few minutes, he could feel Kiryu’s hand against his back, where the pectoral fin of his koi should be. Nishiki flinched at the touch, but he leaned into it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Monday, March 4, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
23:52
“Aniki! Aniki!” Kiryu crushed the proffered can of beer against his head, smashed it open, and chugged it in an instant, which made Shinji and Ito whoop and holler. “Aniki!!” Shinji more than excitedly kicked the emptied can into the street, where a late-night car drove over it. “You gotta teach me how to do that shit, man!”“Maybe later.” Kiryu, admittedly tipsy, let out a quiet chuckle. He felt Yumi tug on his arm. Akemi did the same with Shinji.“Come on, Shin-chan.” Akemi was trying and failing to pull Shinji away. “Are you done joking around? It’s time to go home.”“Okay, okay, okay.” Shinji leaned into Akemi’s touch and allowed himself to be pulled away – one arm held by Akemi, one arm held by Ito. He was too drunk to walk on his own. “‘Night, Kiryu-no-ani—no wait, oyaji.” He gave a bumbling nod toward Yumi. “‘Night, Kiryu-oneesan.”Yumi let out a shocked laugh. She glanced at Kiryu. “Is… he talking about me?” Kiryu nodded. “Oh. Shinji, just ‘Yumi’ is fine. You don’t have to call me that!”“I can’t call aniki’s wife by her first name! Especially now that he’s more than just my aniki—he’s my patriarch!” Shinji was beginning to slump in Akemi and Ito’s arms. Yeah, he would be passed out in a few minutes.Kiryu folded some yen into Ito’s free hand. “Call a cab. Get them home safe.”Ito quickly nodded and even did a full bow – which was probably dizzying considering he had been drinking too. “Yessir, oyaji!” He said his goodnights, alongside Akemi, before they dragged Shinji down the sidewalk and toward town.Oyaji. Kiryu was definitely going to have to get used to that. He was going to have to get used to a lot of things, now. He had his own family. He had his own men working under him. His ceremony had wrapped up in the afternoon, and they celebrated all day up until midnight – but it still hadn’t sunk in yet. “Kiryu-kumicho.” That’s who he was now. He was officially a patriarch.Kiryu wondered how his new little hodgepodge family was going to work. He had been given an assortment of men from different areas of the Dojima Family and the Kazama Family, men who Kazama told him were more than happy to join up beneath him.Ito, who was originally under the Dojima Family, seemed to be especially glad to join the Kiryu Family. He was still at youngblood, teenage grunt level, and was scrawny and obviously fresh off the streets, but there was a certain fire in his eyes that Kiryu couldn’t deny. That’s why he had chosen him to help escort Shinji and Akemi back home (especially Shinji).As Yumi hooked arms with him and led him up the stairs to their apartment, Kiryu thought that maybe this could be a fresh start. He took in a deep breath, let the chill of the incoming spring fill his lungs. The air felt sweet. Or maybe it was just Yumi’s perfume.Once they got inside their apartment (Kiryu had moved out of his abandoned apartment at the end of February), Yumi pressed Kiryu against the door. He moved into her motion. She never would’ve been able to push him unless he let her. And he usually found himself giving in to Yumi, constantly responding to her touch.“Congratulations.” She smiled as she kissed him. Her lip gloss had been rubbed off by now, from how much they had kissed throughout the day. “How do you feel?” She pressed her body against his, settled her hands on his chest.“Good.”Yumi let out a soft laugh. She didn’t move to take off her jacket or her shoes. She leaned even closer to Kiryu, until their bodies were completely flushed together. “Just good?”“Uh… Yeah.” Kiryu couldn’t think with Yumi breathing against his neck like this.“Kazuma, I wanted to ask you something.” Yumi leaned back slightly, wrapped her arms around Kiryu’s neck. “What were you thinking about after oyasan and Kashiwagi-san asked you to drink with them? You… had this certain look on your face that I can’t stop thinking about.”Kiryu thought back. Kazama and Kashiwagi had briefly invited Kiryu to a backroom in the second or third bar they visited. It was after Kiryu had shed his ceremonial kimono and changed into a suit, something expensive gifted by Kazama – and. Oh. That had been it.“Nishiki,” Kiryu whispered. He had been thinking about Nishiki.It would’ve been Nishiki, if he was there. Nishiki would’ve been the one to gift him an expensive suit. And then Nishiki would’ve been the one pouring back drinks, picking what songs to sing at karaoke, groaning about how he should’ve become a patriarch first, asking Kiryu what he would think a potential Nishikiyama Family would be like. And then they would retire in whoever’s apartment for the night.And then – who knew what would happen next. Would they go to Nishiki’s apartment? Would they go to Kiryu’s apartment? Would they go to Kiryu and Yumi’s apartment? Would Kiryu and Yumi even have an apartment together in this hypothetical reality?It was a terrible thought, but if Nishiki was still around, would Kiryu have married Yumi? That thought had flashed in Kiryu’s mind after he had changed into the suit Kazama bought for him.Just, what would’ve happened if Nishiki was still around?Suffice to say, everything would be different. But it was a terrible thought because Kiryu liked having Yumi around, appreciated the concerned look she was giving him now as he trailed off. And it was a terrible thought because a small part of Kiryu knew that what happened with him and Yumi wouldn’t have happened if Nishiki was still there – and Nishiki deserved to be there, too. He could only have one if the other was gone, it felt like.Yumi had caught the way that Kiryu’s face likely blanched once the thought struck his mind, after accepting Kazama’s suit. Could she tell that guilt was beginning to gnaw at his stomach now? That the reason why he put his hands on her waist was in a poor attempt to whisk the thoughts away?“Nishikiyama,” Yumi murmured, unknowing. She pressed a kiss against Kiryu’s cheek. “He would’ve been so happy for you—well…” She let out a breathless laugh. “Well, maybe not happy. He would get so jealous of you sometimes, especially when we were younger. It was cute, though.” Kiryu could only huff – because yeah, he also thought that. Nishiki would be happy for him in his own bittersweet way, but still happy nonetheless. “Still, he would’ve been so proud of you.” She kissed him again, toward his jaw.Kiryu couldn’t help but ask, “Do you miss him?”“Hm? Of course I do.” Yumi laid her head against Kiryu’s chest. “I miss him a lot. He’s missed out on so much—especially with Yuko, and with us.”“Yeah. I just thought…” Kiryu didn’t know what he was thinking anymore.“What did you think?” Kiryu didn’t have an answer for that. “Did you… think that I wouldn’t miss him? Because of… that night?”That was something Yumi was good at, sometimes figuring out Kiryu before Kiryu could figure out himself.“Oh…” Kiryu tried to shake his head, but Yumi already worked up her own answer: “It’s… It’s not something I like to think about, obviously. But it doesn’t change the way that I look at Nishikiyama. He… He tried…” Yumi took a small step back, clearing her throat. “He tried to help me,” she finished, but her voice wavered. “But he’s the one treated like… an outcast. Like he’s done something wrong.” She sighed, flickering her eyes away. They hadn’t turned the lights on yet. There was nothing to search for in the darkness. “I don’t know. He’s the one who went to jail. He’s the one that everyone looks down on, but…” She shook her head. “It shouldn’t have been him.”Kiryu let Yumi’s words – “He tried to help me.” – echo in his mind. She took his hand in hers.Her voice was soft. “I know it’s hard without Nishikiyama here, but…” She looked like she was thinking of the right thing to say, but decided to shake her head instead. “No. There is no ‘but’ about it. It is hard. But I’m sure he misses us as much as we miss him.”Kiryu hoped so, too.“Let’s not talk about that right now, though.” Yumi’s smile slowly returned. “This is a special day for you. We’re supposed to be celebrating.” Yumi moved to take off her jacket and shoes. Kiryu did the same. Once they finally stepped out of the genkan, she gently pulled him toward the living room, toward the futon. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”“Okay,” Kiryu breathed out.
Tuesday, March 5, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
0:06
Yumi leaned back, catching her breath, and unclasped the back of her dress. “Do we have any condoms?” she asked.
Holy shit.
Just. Holy shit. They were really doing this now. Kiryu had to pull himself out of his stupor to dig through his discarded pants as Yumi tossed her dress aside. Kiryu just always thought – holy shit, fuck fuck fuck – whenever this happened. Which wasn’t often. And still surprised him.The first time they had sex was in January, and then twice again in February. Well, full-on, all-the-way sex. (What a teenage way to think about it… Was Kiryu seriously in his late twenties now? He never felt that way, honestly.But yeah, contrary to popular belief, Kiryu wasn’t hooking up with the slew of hostesses, brothel girls, and so on that he befriended – which was a shock to everyone, even the women themselves. He just never really felt the urge to. Which was apparently “weird,” but who cared.)And why was he surprised? He just didn’t think Yumi would ever want to do – this. To have sex. That it would just bring back memories of that night. But she had told him in January, “I love you. I like the way you feel. You make me feel safe and loved. I… I want my body back. I want control over what I think and how I feel again. And I feel good with you.”Sometimes Yumi didn’t want to be touched, which was understandable. She initiated everything. Everything was on her terms. Which was good. Kiryu couldn’t imagine initiating anything. One, because he wanted Yumi to gain her sense of self-control back. Two, because it wasn’t in his nature to, anyway.There. Kiryu stopped looking through his pockets. Shinji had jokingly tucked a few condoms in Kiryu’s pocket with a drunken wink once they hit up the fifth or sixth bar. “Aren’t you gonna enjoy your night with your missus, aniki?” Looks like Kiryu was after all.Sometimes Yumi wanted to be touched. Such as right now. And Kiryu… just couldn’t get it up, which was less understandable.It’s something that’s been hanging in the back of his mind since January. At first, he thought, was he getting old? You shouldn’t be getting dick-related problems yet in your late twenties, right? But he was fine on his own. And he had been fine with Nishiki. What was the issue when it came to Yumi, then? Kiryu couldn’t figure it out. And he wasn’t going to tell her, either. That would be a fucking mess. So, he managed to come up with a “solution.” Which was probably worse than outright telling Yumi. (Probably? No, it’s definitely worse. Way worse.)What was the solution? Kiryu would squeeze his eyes shut, squeeze his hand around himself even tighter – and he would think of Nishiki. He would think of one specific moment between them. When Kiryu had gotten kidnapped by the triad in ‘93, and Kazama told Nishiki to look after him as he recovered, and Nishiki had been so pissed – up until they kissed, until Nishiki pulled himself away.That night was burned into Kiryu’s mind. Kiryu thought Nishiki looked so pretty that day, even though he was sick, with his pinkened lips and rosy cheeks. But Nishiki had called Kiryu weird and said he was making fun of him. Kiryu never understood why he said that. (And then he had gotten sick a few days later. Nishiki was all I told you so, I told you so, even though he didn’t tell anything.)There were so many what-ifs when it came to Nishiki. Kiryu would think, what if Nishiki hadn’t pulled away? What if they had gone further? If he closed his eyes and imagined that he was sinking into Nishiki, it made things easier with Yumi, when he pushed himself inside of her. It made things easier on the outside, yet he felt nothing but guilt on the inside, but… it was what worked. It was the only way to keep himself from going soft the moment he touched her.When Yumi pressed her lips against his neck, tightened her fingers into his shoulders, if Kiryu imagined that it was Nishiki – then the touches felt even more heated, and he could press their hips together and give Yumi what she wanted. And his stomach would twist into itself afterward, but Yumi would hold him close, close, closer – and she would allow herself to let go, and for just a second, everything seemed okay.Everything felt like it was going to be okay, even if it was just for a split second. There was no such thing as the yakuza, no such thing as their best friend in prison, no such thing as their other best friend in the hospital, no such thing as that night, no such thing as life, no such thing as death, no such thing as anything. It was just them. And maybe everything was going to be okay, if they kept moving forward.
Friday, April 5, 1996
Ōkubo
Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital
11:38
Kiryu swapped out Yuko’s hospital-provided lunch with one he bought her from a local restaurant, and then set a stack of new books on her bedside table. When she said, “Thank you, Kazuma,” a sinking feeling always made way in Kiryu’s chest. Because Yuko wasn’t well, and she wasn’t ever going to be, and he didn’t know what was going to happen to her.During that night – that night, when everything changed – Kiryu had hurriedly told Nishiki that he would take care of Yuko before Nishiki was dragged away by the police, out into the rain. That was the last thing that Kiryu ever said to Nishiki.And Nishiki, with tears streaming down his face, didn’t say anything. He had only looked at Kiryu and said nothing. Maybe he nodded. Maybe there was something more in his eyes. Kiryu didn’t know, didn’t get the chance to know. It had all happened so fast. And just like that, Nishiki was gone.Yuko slowly moved herself to sit up, to split the cheap, wooden chopsticks she was given and eat her lunch. Yuko, who was supposed to be in her late twenties, still had the appearance of a teenage girl – a very sick teenage girl, a waif of a person. But she wasn’t a teenage girl anymore. She was an adult who had been denied the opportunity to take the leap into womanhood by her own body, who had lost her natural light over time.Yuko and Kiryu sat in silence as she ate, as Kiryu’s chest tightened.After Yuko set her food aside, began to shift through her new stack of books, she said, “I feel like it’s soon.”Kiryu shook himself out of his thoughts. “Hm?”“I feel like…” She softly shut a book closed in her lap. “I feel like my time is coming to an end soon.”“W-What?”She nodded, as if she was so sure of herself. How could a person just casually say that they thought they were going to die soon? Who did that? “I have been writing a final letter for my brother,” she continued, softly. Her voice had gone so quiet over the years. As if she was fading away. “Would you give it to him when I—?”“No.” Kiryu couldn’t be hearing this. “You aren’t going to die, Yuko. Don’t say that.”Yuko gave a small smile, but there was no feeling. “You can’t decide that, Kazuma.” It was true. Kiryu couldn’t decide fate. If he could, he would choose for Yumi to feel no pain, for Nishiki to be with them, for Yuko to live.It was in that moment when Kiryu suddenly thought, Yuko is going to die soon. He didn’t know why he thought that. It wasn’t because she said so, but because the feeling was in the air. And it was a horrible feeling. It was the beginning of a bitter spring and a cruel summer.
Friday, April 5, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
12:11
Kiryu watched from the table as Yumi paced back and forth in the kitchen. She had asked Kiryu to pick them up lunch on his way home from the hospital because she was too tired to make anything, but she hadn’t eaten. She had just been pacing the entire time.“I don’t know what it is,” she murmured. She ran her fingers through her hair for the umpteenth time. “I don’t know why I feel so sick lately. It has to be some sort of stomach bug or something I’ve eaten.” Judging from the way she was pacing, she was doubtful of her own words.Yes, Kiryu noticed that Yumi was under the weather lately. Maybe for the last couple of weeks. She had complained about having sudden stomach pains, that there was an odd metallic taste in her mouth whenever she ate. That she woke up some mornings feeling nauseous.She had gone to the doctor in the morning before work to see if something was wrong, to make sure it wasn’t anything too serious, because she was concerned over the fact that she couldn’t shake whatever illness she had, and that it was getting worse.Looking back, they hadn’t eaten anything too out of the ordinary lately, and they pretty much ate the same meals together. Whatever it was wasn’t affecting Kiryu, so he wasn’t sure if it could’ve been something she ate. It did sound like some sort of stomach bug, but who knew. Hopefully it was just that.The telephone rang. Yumi practically ran toward it. “That must be the doctor,” she said, but it seemed like she was more so talking to herself than Kiryu. “They said they would be fast, but…” She picked up the phone, interrupting her own sentence.Silence. In hindsight, Kiryu should’ve known something was wrong then and there. Yumi was usually quite responsive on the phone. But now, she was silent. All she said was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she hung up and fell to her knees.Kiryu got to his feet quickly. “What’s wrong?” he immediately asked. Yumi was huddled on the floor, shaking and crying. It was all so sudden.When he reached out to her, she pushed his hands away. That was the first time she ever did that. “I-I—” She was sobbing. She was hyperventilating. She couldn’t get the words out. What was Kiryu supposed to do?“What’s wrong, Yumi?” Kiryu asked again. He crouched down to her level, kept his hands away from her. What the fuck did the doctor tell her? Kiryu already made a mental note to beat the face in of whoever was on the phone with Yumi.“I-I’m—him! It’s him!” She wasn’t making any sense. She was grabbing at her stomach, as if she was trying to claw her skin off. “I’m—I-I’m—” She shook as she covered her face with her hands. “N-No,” she gasped out, again and again. “No, no, no! No!”Fuck. Kiryu had never felt so scared before. He felt terrified and helpless. “Yumi,” he tried to keep his voice calm, because him freaking out wouldn’t help her freaking out. “Tell me what’s wrong. What did they say?”“I-I’m—I’m pregnant.”Time froze.“I-It’s him. It’s him—It’s—” She looked like she couldn’t breathe.Kiryu forced himself to think through the shock. Who was “him”? Was she referring to—?“No,” he quickly said. “It can’t be him.” It was an awful thought, but there was absolutely no way that it was Dojima. That was October, and it was March now. It had been five months since then. “Yumi.”“I-I—”Kiryu let himself get a little closer to her. “It can’t be him,” he said again, firmer. “Think about it, Yumi. It can’t be him.”She moved her hands down from her face. Her eyes were shaking. “I-It can’t be?” Her voice was so low, so unlike herself. It was unnerving, almost felt like Kiryu was speaking to a different person, a stranger.“No.”“No,” she repeated. “No…” She sniffed. Tears fell down her face, but the shaking stopped. They were like that for maybe three minutes, Yumi curled on to the floor, Kiryu as close to her as he could be without touching her. “No,” she suddenly said again. “S-Sorry.” She moved to sit up, but she still looked out of it. “I-I don’t know why—I don’t know… I don’t know why I thought that…”Kiryu shook his head. He couldn’t say that he understood. He didn’t. He never would. She had heard that she was pregnant and her mind told her it was Dojima, even though the thought was completely irrational. It just made Kiryu angry. But who was he supposed to take his anger out on? Dojima was dead, Nishiki was in jail, Yuko was dying, and Yumi is pregnant. What is he supposed to do?
Friday, April 5, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
12:26
They laid in bed together after that. Returning to work was the furthest thing from their minds. Yumi was on one side of the futon, Kiryu was on the other. They were facing each other, lost in silence. She had placed her hand on top of his when they first laid down, but didn’t move any closer. That was fine. Even if she never touched him again, that would’ve been fine.Yumi broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking about it…” Because what else was there to think about. “I don’t… I don’t understand how this could’ve happened.” Kiryu didn’t either. “What went wrong? What didn’t we notice?” Her eyes and nose were still red from crying. She was looking at Kiryu but not at Kiryu at the same time. “Did… the condom break?”Kiryu thought back. They hadn’t had sex since March, since after his patriarch induction ceremony. He didn’t remember the condom breaking or leaking or anything. He surely would’ve noticed. He slowly shook his head.Yumi closed her eyes. Maybe she was reimagining everything, likely trying to replay everything. Nothing seemed off that night, not from Kiryu’s perspective. “Maybe it did,” Yumi whispered, resigned. “I can’t think of any other way. Maybe it only broke slightly, not enough for us to notice it. It was in your pocket, right? Maybe it got damaged? I don’t know…” She let out a long, pained breath. It wasn’t fair to burden Yumi with trying to find the answers.She squeezed his hand. “What are we supposed to do?” Her words came out in a shaken rush. “I-I can’t be a mother. I never had a mother. I don’t know how to be one. I—” She looked like she was on the verge of tears again. Kiryu tightened his grip on her hand. “Kazuma, what are we going to do?”That was all Kiryu could think of. What were they going to do? If Yumi wasn’t ready to be a mother, then Kiryu was definitely not ready to be a father. Kazama had done the best he could, but Kiryu never truly had a father, either. He never had a mother, too. None of them did. There was no one for them to turn to for guidance.“Whatever you want,” was the only answer. And the answer felt like no. It felt like they shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t be having a child. “If I need to sign off on anything, I’ll do it.”Yumi seemed slightly reassured by that, but she was still blinking back tears. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”Silence blanketed over them again. Long enough for Yumi to move closer, to lay her head on Kiryu’s chest. “W-When I was younger, I was always looking forward to this moment.” Kiryu could feel her tears fall against his shirt. “I-I didn’t think I would feel this way, though. I didn’t think it would hurt so much.”
Friday, April 5, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
???
It was the first time that Kiryu dreamed of Nishiki after his arrest. And he quickly grew to learn that dreams of Nishiki only came around during certain times, when times were difficult.Every time Kiryu was experiencing some sort of hardship, Nishiki would appear in his dreams thereafter. And tonight was the first time it happened, after Yuko said she was dying, after Yumi said she was pregnant.Kiryu thought he was awake at first. It was the mid-afternoon and he was alone in his and Yumi’s apartment. He didn’t remember what he was doing before the phone rang. He went to it, with anticipation pulsing in his fingertips. He wasn’t sure why.“Hello?” he answered.“Kyodai! Don’t ‘hello’ me!” A laugh. Once Kiryu realized it was Nishiki’s voice, he then realized he was dreaming. That this wasn’t reality.He still stuttered out, “N-Nishiki?” As if it could’ve been true.“Yeah, it’s ‘Nishiki.’” He even mocked Kiryu’s voice. “What’s going on, man? We haven’t talked in a while, huh?”Kiryu leaned his head against the wall beside the telephone. He wondered what it would be like in real life if he ever got to talk to Nishiki again. Would it be this easy? Would they be able to pick up where they left off like nothing had ever happened?“Kiryu?” Nishiki’s voice nearly startled Kiryu. “What’s going on with you? You’re quiet, but not this quiet.” He laughed again, more nervous now.Should Kiryu just say it? “Um…” This wasn’t the real Nishiki. It was a dream. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. “Yuko… She thinks she’s dying. I don’t know why. And Yumi… She’s pregnant. We don’t know what to do.”There was a beat. Then Nishiki said, “Fuck. We gotta talk in person. I’ll be there soon.” And he hung up.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Friday, June 21, 1996
Ōkubo
Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital
9:22
It was the first day of summer.“A… heart transplant?” Kiryu blankly repeated.“Yes.” The doctor – Kiryu glanced at his nametag: Dr. Hiyoshi Kiminobu – nodded. “I’m afraid that any further surgeries would be futile. This is the only option that remains to save Nishikiyama-san.”Fuck. A fucking heart transplant. Kiryu held his breath steady. “How much will it cost?” It didn’t matter how much it cost. Kiryu was a fucking patriarch now, he had more access to money than ever, and he could grovel to Kazama and Kashiwagi need be. Anything to save Yuko. Anything. “I’ll pay it.”Dr. Hiyoshi shook his head. “The matter of funding is not an issue, but the matter of whenever a compatible donor is going to be available. Even if we manage to find a compatible donor with Nishikiyama-san, she will be placed on a waiting list.” Despite the doctor’s clipped and clinical tone, his eyes slowly turned away. “It could take years before she could receive the transplant…”
“I feel like my time is coming to an end soon.”
No. Fuck. It couldn’t be true.It took everything within Kiryu to not take the doctor by his shoulders and shake him, throw him into a wall, demand for him to do something – anything. Don’t let Yuko die.The doctor’s voice droned on in the background of Kiryu’s mind. “Still, Nishikiyama-san’s survival odds are low. Though a heart transplant is her best option, it still may not work.”Kiryu’s hands balled into fists on their own. God, he wanted to punch the wall. He wanted to punch his arm through the wall. He wanted to hear the bones in his hands crack as they connected into something rock solid. He wanted the skin of his knuckles to rip open upon the impact. He wanted to feel the pain ripple through his arm and shock into his shoulder. He wanted to feel strong. He wanted to feel in control. Why was everything slipping through his fingers.All Kiryu could say was, “Don’t fucking stand there. Do something.” He could barely grunt the words out. Do something. Please, please. Do anything. “Don’t let Yuko die.”The doctor looked down. What the fuck was there to think about? He needed to do something. Anything. Kiryu felt like an eternity passed before the doctor slowly looked back up. “What would you like me to do?”“Anything.”“Anything?”Kiryu nodded. What was there to debate about? They were talking about Yuko’s life here.Dr. Hiyoshi blinked. Then, “Do you know what an organ broker is?”“…What?”“I… have some connections,” the doctor calmly went on. “I could reach out to them and… I could possibly receive a heart for Nishikiyama-san, but it will be costly. Even more additional costs will be added on to the transplant and surgery fees.”It took a moment for what the doctor said to register in Kiryu’s swirling mind. What the fuck was he talking about? Black market organs? What the fuck?“No.” At least now Kiryu had a good enough excuse to slam the doctor into the wall. “I am not getting Yuko a heart from the black market.”Kiryu heard the stories surrounding organ trafficking. There were some guys in other parts of the clan that were involved in it. Involved in kidnapping kids and exploiting the poor to kill them or leave them for dead, harvest their organs, trade them off, and move on to the next victim. No. Absolutely not. They were not getting a heart from the fucking black market. Yuko would refuse it, too.Kiryu punched the doctor in the stomach, enough to knock the wind out of the man, enough to blow some steam off. “Think of something else,” he warned before he walked away. He had an appointment to get to.
Friday, June 21, 1996
Ōkubo
Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital
9:30
Yumi’s hand tightened over Kiryu’s. If she had the strength to match Kiryu’s, then he was sure she would be crushing his hand right now. She let her anxiety travel to her fingers, too. Just like him.The doctor was murmuring something that Yumi was nodding along to, but there was too much blood rushing through Kiryu’s ears to make much of anything out. His conversation with Yuko’s doctor was still replaying in his mind.This doctor – Yumi’s doctor, who hopefully wasn’t as conniving as Yuko’s – was moving a transducer across Yumi’s lower stomach, pointing at things on the black-and-white sonogram screen.Yumi’s stomach. There was a growing bump there. Whenever she got dressed for work, it was hardly noticeable under her uniform. But when she changed into more casual clothes, or laid her stomach bare such as now, it was there. It was the only thing that Kiryu could look at.Kiryu’s hand was squeezed. He pulled himself back to reality. “What?”“Would you two like to know the gender?” The doctor asked, probably repeating his question.Kiryu glanced at Yumi. She nodded. He nodded, too.The doctor pointed at the sonogram, where Kiryu could make out a head, maybe a hand, maybe a leg. “As you can see here,” the doctor pointed toward where the legs were, “there is a lack of external genitalia—which would indicate that you two will be having a girl. Congratulations.”A girl. They were having a girl.Kiryu felt relieved, though he knew he shouldn’t have been. But if he had to choose, he would have definitely chosen to have a girl. The fact that he and Yumi were having a child was already unbelievable enough, but Kiryu especially couldn’t imagine having a son. The pressure that the first son of a patriarch went through was immense, to carry an entire legacy on his shoulders. He had seen what Daigo went through firsthand. Kiryu would never wish that upon his own child.Yumi and her doctor continued to speak as Kiryu sank into his thoughts again, brushed his thumb over the back of Yumi’s hand. This was the decision that they had made. They were going to have a child. They had thought about it endlessly, talked about it endlessly since April, and then, toward the end of May, Yumi said, “I… I want this. Is that crazy? Am I crazy?”Kiryu had said, “Yes.” To which Yumi quietly laughed at.The odds were stacked against them. What felt like an obvious no in April became a slow maybe in May, became a steadying yes in June. And now, Kiryu and Yumi were going to be parents before the end of the year. They were going to have a daughter. Yumi was going to be a mother. Kiryu was going to be a father. He kept repeating the thought in his mind. It was getting realer and realer by the day.
Friday, June 21, 1996
Ōkubo
Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital
9:45
Yuko gave a small smile at the announcement – it’s a girl. “Do you have any names yet?” she asked.“Ah. No, we don’t.” Yumi shook her head. “We haven’t been thinking about names, honestly.” They were too focused on if they even wanted a child in the first place. Picking a name was the furthest thing from their minds.“Can I make a suggestion?” Yuko asked.Kiryu nodded, and Yumi said, “Go ahead.”Yuko reached out for her notebook. She had been writing in it more and more in recent years. When Kiryu once asked what she wrote about, she simply said her thoughts and “the way things were.” He never quite figured out what she meant by that.Yuko stretched out her notebook in her lap so that Kiryu and Yumi could see it. “What about the name ‘Haruka’? Since she was likely conceived in the spring, right?” Uh. Kiryu wasn’t going to confirm or deny that to Yuko. She went on, “But instead of using the kanji for ‘spring’ or ‘flower,’ you could spell it like this,” she wrote down a single character, “to mean ‘distance,’ to give a certain strength to the name.”“Oh, Yuko. I really like that.” Yumi’s smile was undeniable. “Haruka,” she repeated. “That’s a really pretty name. And I like your idea with the spelling.” She turned to Kiryu. “What do you think, Kazuma?”“Haruka…” Saying things out loud made them come true. “I like it,” Kiryu agreed. So, it was settled. They were going to become parents, they were going to have a daughter, and her name was going to be Haruka. This was real.“Thank you.” When Yuko closed her notebook, the air around her sharply shifted. Even Yumi’s smile wavered. “I wanted to ask something from the two of you.” Her eyes wandered away, to the window behind Kiryu and Yumi. “I have planned how I would like to spend my final days—”“Yuko,” Yumi gasped. “D-Don’t say that.” But Yumi didn’t say, “You’re going to be fine.” She felt it too, the foreboding feeling in the air that twisted around Yuko.Yuko shook her head. “Please, let me finish.” Kiryu set his hand on Yumi’s shoulder. “Just in case,” Yuko softly added, but it was just empty reassurance. “My last wish is to die in the garden.”If Kiryu followed her line of sight, the window overlooked the large garden that occupied the back of the hospital. Kiryu and Yumi had walked with Yuko through the garden many times, from when Yuko could walk on her own by leaning against one of them to when she needed a wheelchair.“It was something that my brother and I would say. It would be reassuring for the last thing to see before you die to be flowers. I believe it would calm your spirit while traveling from this life to the next one.” She had a sad smile on her face. “‘To sleep among the flowers, to be in a dream, to be where there is no loss.’ That was what we said to each other—after our parents died. The last thing they saw…” She shook her head, trailing off. “I wish for my last sight to be flowers. That’s all I ask for.”Kiryu swallowed down the lump in his throat, while Yumi couldn’t hide her tears.
Friday, June 21, 1996
Kamurocho
Tenkaichi Street
9:53
Yumi stuck close to Kiryu’s side as they walked home. The train ride back to Kamurocho had been mostly quiet. Yuko’s words were obviously heavy on both of their minds.When they got home, the first thing that Kiryu was going to do was try to call Kazama. Kazama’s connections ran deep, and it felt like he knew the answers to everything. Maybe he could help Yuko. Maybe he could somehow find her a good heart from a good place, and maybe she could live, and finally live the life that had been taken from her for almost three decades.“Kiryu-chan!”Fuck. Kiryu was not in the mood for Majima’s bullshit right now.Kiryu tried to keep his eyes forward when Majima ran across the street, damn the crossing cars, toward them. Kiryu held his hand up before Majima could get too close. “Not now.”“Kiry—!”“Not now,” Kiryu repeated. “We can’t fight now. I’m with Yumi.” Yumi, who had a nervous smile on her face and leaned even closer into Kiryu.There seemed to be no rules whenever it came to fights with Majima, but Kiryu made him agree on one thing: no fighting when Yumi was around. Which Majima surprisingly didn’t put too much protest against.Majima rolled his eye. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard ya, loud and clear. I’m not gonna kick yer ass in front of yer missus. I’m a fuckin’ gentleman!” He was carrying a floral parasol but had it slung over his shoulders, choosing not to shield himself from the harsh summer sun. “And I don’t wanna fight, anyway.”Kiryu raised an eyebrow. That was hard to believe.“I wanted to say congratulations! I ain’t got the chance to say it yet. My little Kiryu-chan grew up so fast. I can’t believe he’s gonna be a daddy.” Majima wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, and Kiryu still couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not. Majima held out his parasol to Yumi. “And I can’t believe ya got yer girl walkin’ around in this heat with no shade. Here ya go.”“Thank… you?” Yumi accepted the parasol but didn’t open it.“Don’t thank me for showin’ ya some common decency.” Majima was walking with them now. There looked to be no shaking him. Kiryu accepted his fate. “Ooh, we should throw a party!”“No,” Kiryu said. Majima throwing them a party? Absolutely not.Majima clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “Kiryu-san, yer husband’s such a spoilsport. We used to party it up back in the day, y’know. Had to drag Kiryu-chan back home every morning!”“That’s not true…” Kiryu sighed.“Pssh. Kiryu-chan’s always had a stick up his ass. I’mma get him to party with me one day.” Majima did a little jerky movement with his legs. “Just wait and see.”It took Kiryu a while to realize that Majima acted different whenever Kiryu was with Yumi versus when Kiryu was alone. It was like Majima became even antsier than usual when Yumi was around, as if he was jumping on hot coals. He would talk to her, but wouldn’t look at her. It was weird.Kiryu had seen Majima hang out with women before without issue, so it couldn’t have been that he didn’t like to be around women. Maybe it was just a Yumi thing, because she was married to Kiryu? But why would Majima care about that? It didn’t seem like Majima cared about much now and days. He wasn’t the same man as he was in the ‘80s. (And neither was Kiryu.)“Kazuma never really liked to party,” Yumi spoke up. She had the parasol open now.“Eh?” Majima craned his neck toward Yumi and then quickly faced forward again. “He didn’t?”“No. Believe it or not, he was pretty popular in high school. But I don’t think he even noticed he was.” Majima and Yumi shared a laugh together at that. Kiryu’s frown deepened. “I remember that so many guys would invite him to parties and so many girls tried to ask him out, but it would always go right over his head. He was so clueless.”“Oh yeah?” Majima whistled. “I can see it.”“Mhm. Kazuma has always been the same.” Yumi knocked her shoulder into Kiryu’s side. Kiryu only huffed. “And thank you for the congratulations, Majima.”“Uh… Yeah.” Majima scratched the back of his head. “Don’t gotta thank me for that.” Was he… embarrassed or something? Kiryu didn’t think that Majima Goro even knew what the concept of shame was.“No, really. I appreciate it. And I’m sure Kazuma appreciates it, too.” Kiryu did. Kind of. If Majima meant it. “You and Kazuma are around the same age, right?”“Eh? What kinda question is that? Uh…” Whoa. Kiryu had never seen Majima act like this before. Maybe he should walk around with Yumi more often. Who knew that she was going to be the best means of Anti-Majima Defense.“He’s a few years older than me,” Kiryu filled in.“Oh okay.” Yumi nodded. “I was just wondering if you have ever considered having children before. Since you two are around the same age.”Majima paused. Kiryu only noticed since they were waling so close to each other. Kiryu was standing on Majima’s right side, so he could see the way Majima’s eye squinted before it carefully blanked. “Naw. Never thought about it,” he answered, voice low. “I’d be a shitty dad.”
Friday, June 21, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
10:01
The apartment was completely trashed. Had to be a break-in.Kiryu and Yumi quickly scoured around. Break-ins weren’t exactly uncommon in Kamurocho. Kiryu’s old apartments had been broken into a couple of times. Sometimes by a homeless man to find warmth for the night. Sometimes by a random punk looking for some spare cash.“The safe’s still here,” Yumi murmured from the closet where they kept their safe. She opened it and searched through it. “Nothing’s missing inside…”After they finished looking around, there didn’t seem to be anything missing. Weird. Who the hell would break into their house just to not steal anything? What were they looking for?(Kiryu should’ve known right then and there. He should’ve seen it coming. Another mark of a cruel summer.)
Monday, June 24, 1996
Ōkubo
Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital
1:43
Kiryu had told Yumi that she could stay home, but she insisted on going. There was no point in telling her not to go, anyway. They went to the hospital as fast as they could.Kiryu couldn’t even remember what the doctor said over the phone. The ringing of the telephone had quickly woken him from his sleep. He remembered that. Yumi had startled awake, too. They were both on edge since the break-in a few days ago.The telephone rang. Kiryu couldn’t remember what the doctor said. Maybe it was something about “heart failure.” Something else about an “emergency surgery.” Kiryu didn’t know. He didn’t understand. Something was wrong with Yuko. He just knew something was wrong with Yuko, and they had to go.Kiryu’s mind went into autopilot. He was there but wasn’t there at the same time. He could hear his own voice speaking, but it felt like he had given up his body for a higher power to control for him. As if his mind knew to remove himself from this moment. That the pain would’ve been too much.“—Where’s the doctor?” he kept asking, pushing through bodies and bodies of doctors and nurses and whoever the hell else was getting in between them and Yuko. “Where’s Dr. Hiyoshi? Where is he?”The nurses’ voices almost bypassed his ears. “We don’t know.” “We’re looking for him.” “We don’t know.” “We don’t know.”One nurse, wide eyed, said, “I-I saw him get dragged away! I-It was a group of large men! I-I don’t know what happened. I stayed hidden behind a wall the entire time.”Fuck. Dr. Hiyoshi did say that he had connections, right? Looks like those connections came back to bite.The next thing that happened was Kiryu was on the phone. A telephone near the outside of Yuko’s room. Who was he talking to? He didn’t know. He was calling practically every number he knew.There has to be something. There has to be someone. There had to be someone who could help her. Someone who could save her. Anything. Anything. Fuck it. Kiryu would take a heart from the black market at this point. Why didn’t he? He should’ve. Fuck. Nishiki would have. Nishiki would have done anything to save Yuko. Why was this happening? Don’t let Yuko die. Yuko can’t die.A few doctors tried to get Kiryu’s attention through the rushing maze of people. He could see them in his peripheral vision, but he refused to turn around.Not until Yumi gently took the phone from him and placed it back in its receiver. Her lips were moving, but Kiryu couldn’t hear anything. She was crying. She had been crying so much lately. This can’t be happening. Don’t let Yuko die. Don’t let—It took a few minutes before they were allowed to see Yuko. There was a passing doctor shaking his head, tears in his eyes. More nurses were trying to talk to Kiryu, but he couldn’t hear them.A voice. One of the doctors. “You may say your goodbyes now.” The voice was quiet but it was like it echoed throughout the room.Kiryu couldn’t remember picking Yuko up, cradling her in his arms, going to the elevator. Maybe some doctors and nurses tried to stop him. It didn’t matter. He could only see and feel Yuko. How small she felt in his arms. How she still looked like a child. How she was dying. She was dying. She was dying.There was no one else in the garden. Just Yuko in Kiryu’s arms, Yumi crying into Kiryu’s shoulder, and dozens and dozens of white gardenias.Yuko died in Kiryu’s arms less than a minute later. She didn’t speak. She must have been too tired to speak. Her eyes closed on their own. She looked like she was just sleeping, if it weren’t for the stillness of her body. Kiryu held her closer to his chest.He was crying. He realized it when he could see the tears stains on Yuko’s hospital gown.
Monday, June 24, 1996
Ōkubo
Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital
2:23
Kiryu just wanted to call Kazama. He wanted Kazama to take over, to handle everything like he always did. Because Kazama made everything seem like it was okay and under control when he was there. Because Kazama was better at these things than Kiryu.But Kiryu couldn’t call Kazama. He had to sign papers so that Yuko’s possessions could be given to them. He had to sign forms for her to be cremated after twenty-four hours. He had to contact a funeral home and leave a message. Every document, every phone call only made it sink in – Yuko is dead. And Kiryu’s mind returned back to reality.Yumi was going through Yuko’s things. They had been handed a few boxes and Yumi had been packing. Yuko’s clothes, Yuko’s books, Yuko’s notebook. What little that she had.“Kazuma.” Kiryu almost missed Yumi’s voice. She sounded all cried out. She pulled out an envelope sticking out from Yuko’s notebook. She showed Kiryu the backside, where Nishiki’s name was written.Kiryu took the letter and carefully tucked it in his inner jacket pocket. They technically weren’t cleared to take Yuko’s things yet, but – no. He was keeping this letter close. Nothing could happen to it.Yumi closed one of the boxes filled with Yuko’s books. “Do you…” She wiped her eyes. “Do you think that… she knew?”“Knew what?” Kiryu’s voice sounded all cried out, too.“That… she was going to die today? T-The way she was talking to us…” Yumi shook her head to herself, allowed herself to begin to cry again. Although now it was quiet. Kiryu rubbed his hand up her back, in between her shoulders.“I don’t know,” Kiryu honestly answered after a moment. Otherwise, the answer was “yes.”There was a knock. A nurse, who understandably looked like she didn’t want to be there, gingerly opened the door. “Kiryu-san, you have a phone call from Kazama-san.”Yumi sniffed and wiped at her eyes. She squeezed a hand around Kiryu’s arm. “Go talk to oyasan. I’ll finish packing up.” Kiryu nodded and went to the phone outside of the room.“I’m on my way.” Kazama’s voice was as steady as ever. Kiryu wished he was already there. “I should be arriving in about five or so minutes.”“I…” Kiryu didn’t know what to say. What was there to say?Kazama still seemed to understand. “I know, Kazuma. You did everything that you could.”“No, I—I didn’t. I let her die.”“Kazuma—”“Her doctor offered a heart from the black market a few days ago, but I turned it down. I—”“Kazuma.” Kiryu shut up. “You did not let her die. Understood?”No. But Kiryu still said, “Yes.”“Have you made funeral arrangements yet?”“Yes…”Kazama then launched into a series of questions, doublechecking what Kiryu had already done and what needed to be done.“Is there anything else?” Kazama asked afterward.There was only one thing left. “Nishiki,” Kiryu whispered.Kazama was silent.“Nishiki,” Kiryu repeated, a little louder. “Yuko wrote a letter to him. And… we have to tell him that she died. There… has to be a way to send her letter to him.”Kazama still said nothing.“Oyasan.” Without meaning to, Kiryu’s voice took on a pleading tone. “We have to tell him that his sister died. We can’t keep this from him. You… You must know a way to get a letter through to him.”The silence continued. Long enough for Kiryu to think that the call dropped or maybe Kazama hung up. Until he heard a small sigh, then, “Make a copy of her letter. It will likely be censored once it is given to Nishikiyama. Also, make a copy of her death certificate.”“Yes, sir.” At least that was one small weight off of Kiryu’s shoulders.“I will be there in one minute.” Kazama hung up.
Monday, June 24, 1996
Ōkubo
Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital
???
Exhaustion took over Kiryu’s body all at once. He didn’t mean to, but he fell asleep in a small waiting room area outside of Yuko’s cleared out room right after Kazama arrived. It was like his body shut down at once and he practically collapsed. He fell asleep holding Yumi’s hand.Nishiki appeared in his dream. This was the second dream that Kiryu had of Nishiki. They were in Kiryu and Yumi’s apartment together, and Nishiki walked in all smiles, unknowing. Kiryu was leaned over the kitchen counter, head in his hands.“Yuko’s dead.” He said it before Nishiki could speak.“What?”“Yuko’s dead.” Kiryu’s voice sounded so empty.“What—? What the fuck? What do you mean she’s dead?” Would the real Nishiki act like this? Would the real Nishiki hit him square in the face, too? “You let my fucking sister die?!”Kiryu didn’t try to block the next hit. It was a dream, but it still stung. “Nishiki—”“Shut the fuck up! Shut up!” Nishiki hit him again, in the chest. If this was real life, Kiryu would’ve had the wind knocked out of him. But since this was a dream, he only felt more emptiness. “You promised me you’d take care of Yuko! Why the fuck did you let her die?! Why—?” Kiryu couldn’t even see Nishiki anymore. Just darkness. “You should’ve done everything you could! Why’d you let her fucking die?”Kiryu agreed. He deserved this. He should have done more. He let Yuko die. If Nishiki – the real Nishiki – ever came out of jail and returned, how was Kiryu going to face him again?
Tuesday, July 2, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
1:17
It was a blur. It all happened so fast. Kiryu could barely remember. He only remembered the aftermath. His hands, arm, shirt covered in blood. The handle of the knife in his hands. The seething look in Ito’s eyes before he died.Ito. Ito Itsuki. He had been a hard worker. Whatever task that Kiryu or Shinji assigned to him, he did it without hassle. And he did it fast, and he did it well. He never cut corners. It was all in his eyes, the fire in them. He was a young, skinny thing, but he was going places if he kept up the good work. Kiryu always thought that. He never knew a thing. Because the fire in Ito’s eyes was directed at Kiryu all along.The memory was skewed in Kiryu’s mind no matter how many times he tried to go back and replay it. It started with him and Yumi coming home to find their apartment trashed again. Nothing was stolen again. They ate dinner and went to bed. But Kiryu couldn’t sleep. And he laid close to the door. And the door swung open, and – Ito was there, with a tanto. And—What happened next? Maybe Ito spoke first. No, he did. His voice was calm, but brimming with rage.“Do you remember Ito Industries?” He said something like that. “It was a printing company run by my father. The Dojima Family forced him to accept their ‘protection.’ But my father never paid his fees on time. He couldn’t afford them. And you—”Maybe he pointed the knife at Kiryu then. Or maybe he took a step closer.“—did a major collection against him. Do you remember? I’ll never forget it. It was on the second of November, 1994. You and Shinji broke into the office. And you slammed my father’s head against the wall in front of my mother. He was completely fucked after that—skull fractures, hemorrhages. He was fucked. He died last year, and all the debt was left on me and my mother. Do you remember that? Do you remember the day you killed my father?”No. Kiryu didn’t. He didn’t remember. And he didn’t care to remember in that moment, because there was a man in his home pointing a knife at him and his pregnant wife.But afterward, when he thought about it – he genuinely didn’t remember. He had done hundreds of collections over the years. It could’ve been any printing company. It could’ve been any man. He didn’t know.Maybe Ito charged at him when Kiryu didn’t respond. Maybe Kiryu charged at him. He didn’t remember. Maybe they wrestled over the knife. Ito managed to get a slash in at one point, evident from the long cut across Kiryu’s arm. But in the end.In the end, it was Ito who was dead by Kiryu’s feet. With Kiryu over his body, covered in his blood. It happened so fast. Kiryu didn’t even remember grabbing the knife, didn’t remember stabbing him.And before Ito died, he looked at Kiryu – looked at him like he hated him, used the last of his strength to spit blood at his face.Kiryu and Yumi briefly moved to an apartment owned by Kazama after that. But that was the moment when something severely shifted between Kiryu and Yumi. Things were never quite the same. Yumi didn’t talk to him for a few weeks. And when she looked at him, she looked at him with shock, fear, something unknown. Like he was a stranger.Kiryu had taken a young man’s life with his own hands, in his own home, to protect his family. But it felt like he was on the wrong side of the story.
Tuesday, July 5, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
???
Kiryu’s third dream of Nishiki came when Kiryu was able to sleep again. He hadn’t slept for about three or so days, and he passed out at his desk one day.In this dream, it was in Kiryu and Yumi’s old apartment – the one that a young man, less than twenty years old, died in. By Kiryu’s hands. He and Nishiki were in the kitchen, and Nishiki’s hands were everywhere, all over Kiryu. Nishiki was kissing him, but Kiryu wasn’t kissing him back.Why? That’s all Kiryu could think. Why? It was all that Kiryu could think for the past few days.Nishiki leaned back with a slight laugh. There was no humor in the sound. “What do you mean ‘why’?” The Nishiki that had been screaming, beating Kiryu after Yuko died was different than this current Nishiki. This Nishiki’s eyes were too sharp. His eyes spelled out hatred for Kiryu, too. “This is who you are now. Accept it. You’re just a man who breaks his promises. Remember? Remember when I said we should cross the line together? What happened to that?”You killed Dojima first. But Kiryu couldn’t get the words out. And Nishiki bit his lips, drawing blood.
Thursday, December 5, 1996
Ōkubo
Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital
6:49
After about thirteen long hours, Haruka was born.Yumi – exhausted, covered in sweat – cried when she first laid eyes on Haruka, when Haruka took in her first breath and cried, when Haruka was laid against her chest. “Hi, Haruka,” she said, pressing her lips against Haruka’s forehead. “I’m so happy to meet you.”Haruka was so small. But maybe Kiryu just thought that because he didn’t see babies all too much. Her squeezed shut eyes, her little nose, her curled-in fingers and toes. She looked so small, so delicate.She was here, in Yumi’s arms, but it was still hard to believe. This was Haruka, this was their daughter. But it was the hardest to believe that there could be new life after so much loss.“Kazuma,” Yumi gently called out. “Come here.”Kiryu had been holding on to Yumi’s hand during the labor and delivery, only letting go once Haruka was born, placed in Yumi’s arms. Kiryu slowly reached out, held his finger out and gently touched Haruka’s hand. And Haruka, still crying, still nuzzling into Yumi, reflexively grabbed on to his finger. He felt his heart squeeze.“Haruka,” Kiryu breathed out. He stroked his thumb over her hand. Her hand didn’t even cover half of his finger.
Thursday, December 14, 1996
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
18:54
If you asked Kiryu what his favorite moment of his fatherhood and marriage was, then he would say it was when Haruka was a newborn.Yes, it was an unexpected answer. Parents of newborns went through sleepless hell, with their babies crying for hours and hours a day and at night. And Kiryu and Yumi went through hell especially, with them having to learn how to take care of a baby on their own, and with an extremely limited number of people to turn to for help.But this time was Kiryu’s favorite because it was the closest that he ever felt to Yumi and Haruka. In fact, this was the closest that he ever felt to another person before, and he was sure that this feeling – whenever he held Yumi and Haruka close – could never be replicated with anyone else.They had a new, more secure apartment. They had their own bedrooms, but still preferred to sleep together in the living room on the futon, with Haruka’s floor crib on Yumi’s side of the bed. Haruka wasn’t a good sleeper. She would frequently wake up and cry, sometimes seemingly for no reason as Kiryu and Yumi quickly learned.There was one particular night when Haruka woke up crying. Kiryu woke up a little after Yumi, who was sluggishly pulling her shirt back up. “She’s not hungry,” she murmured, eyes still closed. “She doesn’t need her diaper changed, either. I think she just wants to be held.”Kiryu tried to shake the sleep from his mind. It always felt like once they settled into a good sleep, Haruka would wake up and cry. “I’ll take her,” he offered. Yumi was more than happy to go back to sleep. He carefully laid his hands beneath Haruka’s head and body and scooped her up into his arms.It took some pacing up and down the hallway for Haruka to calm down. She was still awake, though. She was looking up toward Kiryu. How far could she see? Could she clearly see him? Yumi told him that newborns could only see about twenty centimeters away. It was dark, too. She probably couldn’t make out too much but a fuzzy image of Kiryu’s face.Kiryu found himself walking toward the balcony. He didn’t go out. It was much too cold for that. He just wanted to look out over the city. He probably only managed to get a couple of hours of sleep a day, and he was tired out of his mind, and his thoughts honestly scared him sometimes, and he didn’t know what the future was going to hold. But in that moment, he looked down at Haruka and he smiled.“I haven’t told you this yet,” he started. Haruka startled a little at the sudden sound of his voice, but she still seemed to be looking up at him. “I’m glad I got to meet you, too.” She seemed to be listening to him.He wondered what her voice was going to sound like once she began to talk. He wondered what she would want to talk about, what she would be interested in. What she was going to like, what she was going to hate. What type of person she was going to grow up to be.“There are going to be difficult times,” he found himself saying. “There are… people that I wish you could meet who you never will.” Haruka would never meet Yuko, who named her. And what if Nishiki decided to never come back? “And… I know I’m not going to be the best father. I’m going to make mistakes. I just… I never had a mother or father. There isn’t really anyone I can look up to.”Kiryu had long decided that it was wise to not raise Haruka in the same vein that Kazama raised him. Kiryu was grateful for Kazama, he considered him to be his father, but what was right for Kiryu wasn’t necessarily what was going to be right for Haruka.“I’m figuring this out as we go. But I’m going to do my best.” Haruka began to close her eyes, likely lulled by the sound of his low voice. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.Kiryu laid Haruka back down in her crib. He looked at Yumi and Haruka, and the feeling that he felt in his chest – warm and bright – it was a type of love that he was sure he never would feel again.
Saturday, January 1, 2000
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
???
Sometimes Kiryu wondered if he was simply not allowed to be happy. If he committed some sort of unspeakable, terrible sin in a past life that was unforgiveable even in the next life. Would this be passed on to the next life thereafter once he died?What had he done? What did he need to do to earn forgiveness? He knew that it couldn’t be something material, like when he anonymously sent money to Ito’s mother every year. It was something on a greater scale. It had to be. Why was Kiryu’s life permanently marked with misfortune?Should Kiryu have never started the Kiryu Family? It felt like once the family was established in ‘96, everything went to shit.(In one dream, Nishiki hissed in his ear, “No. You shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have started a family without me. I should’ve been a patriarch first. I deserved it. You didn’t earn it. It was handed to you.” And he sank his teeth into Kiryu’s shoulder, pulling their bodies closer.)When the Kiryu Family moved from being a subsidiary of the Kazama Family to being a subsidiary of the Dojima Family around ‘98, when more members were accepted, it felt like things only took a turn for the worse. And whenever Kiryu slept, Nishiki – whose lips dripped with dark apathy; with a renowned level of bitterness so sharp, it hung in the air – was always there to remind him how fucked his life had gotten.Such as when there was a man stalking Yumi and Haruka. And they had to move again. And Kiryu had to call for the man’s death when he didn’t let up. When he pointed a gun at Kiryu’s head, and it was life or death – and the situation called for death.In a dream the following night, Nishiki had laughed at him, the sound so potently sour. He had traced his lips up Kiryu’s neck, all while saying, “Hm? Are you trying to outdo me? How many more men are you going to kill? How many more families’ lives are you going to ruin? Let’s see, you already ruined mine. I guess yours is next.”He didn’t know how many times he, Yumi, and Haruka had to move. Whenever their house got broken into, they moved and hired more security. It got to a point where Yumi quit her job to stay at home and watch Haruka, because they couldn’t trust her to stay at any daycare. Not after a woman, hired by a hitman, managed to successfully convince the providers that she was a relative of Haruka and napped her from daycare. It had taken two days to find her again.In a dream a few nights later, Nishiki scratched his hands across Kiryu’s back. “Why should I feel bad for you?” He sneered. “It’s what you get for abandoning me. For letting my sister die.” And it got to a point where Kiryu believed it, that he must have been suffering for some sort of reason that was beyond his control.2000 was the worst year. For New Year’s, there was a series of promotions to commemorate the new millennium. Kazama became the Captain of the Tojo Clan. Kashiwagi became the Second Patriarch of the Kazama Family and the Captain of the Dojima Family. He opted out of becoming the new patriarch of the Dojima Family, and elected for it to be Kiryu instead. Thus, Kiryu became the Third Patriarch of the Dojima Family.Kiryu was the new head of the largest family in the Tojo Clan, and the Kiryu Family was at its height then. The Kiryu Family eventually brought in the most money into the clan. The Dojima Family had the strongest men. And Kiryu never felt so powerless in his life.When a man pointed a gun at Yumi, when another man tried to snatch Haruka off the streets in a moving car, when Shinji and three other men died trying to protect Kiryu, when a fire was set in Reina’s bar, when Kiryu instructed Yumi and Haruka to not leave their constantly changing homes anymore – what was there to feel powerful about? He could be the head of the most powerful and successful families in the clan, but what was the point if he couldn’t protect his actual family?Nishiki wasn’t much help, either. In yet another dream, he pushed their bodies together until they became one and the same, no ending or beginning, and said, “You’re willing to be at the top of the Dojima Family after Dojima raped your wife? You really don’t give a fuck about Yumi, do you? You wait until she goes to sleep and you fuck me in your dreams. When’s the last time you fucked her, huh? When are you going to tell her the truth and tell her that you’re just not attracted to her? You never were. Remember? You would think of me every time you forced yourself to fuck her. You should just tell her. Let her know who you really are.”There wasn’t exactly a final straw, per se. It was a buildup of things. One thing after another, until Kiryu couldn’t take it anymore. Until one night, when he felt like he had nothing left, he asked Nishiki in his dream if he should tell Yumi to take Haruka and leave him, if he should disband the Kiryu Family and step down from the Dojima Family.Nishiki said, “Do it. Get it over with already.” And Kiryu thought about it for weeks and weeks, months and months afterward, before he did it.
Saturday, January 13, 2001
Kamurocho
Kiryu and Yumi’s Apartment
19:31
On Friday, Kiryu announced the disbandment of the Kiryu Family. He maintained his position as the patriarch of the Dojima Family because Kazama asked him to, but the Kiryu Family was no more.He told the former members of the Kiryu Family that they could do as they liked. He was going to start a new business – most likely something to do with real estate – located in the Millennium Tower, and anyone was welcome to join. But the Kiryu Family was done from that day forward.Some men transferred to the Dojima Family or another family within the clan. Some men continued to follow Kiryu and were a part of establishing the foundations of his business, Iron Trust. Some men said that Kiryu was a shitty leader, anyway. This was bound to happen. Some men said that Kiryu was the best leader they had ever known. They were surprised that he was stepping down.On Saturday, Kiryu told Yumi that it would be safer for her and Haruka if they left him, if they got a divorce. If Yumi took sole custody of Haruka and erased “Kiryu” from both of their names. If Yumi moved away from Kamurocho and never looked back. He already had an apartment set up for her out in Chiba. A place that was safe, where no one could find them.Kiryu didn’t know how Yumi was going to react. He felt so distant from her lately. She was always home and he was never home. They hardly even ate together anymore. Maybe the Yumi a few years ago would have quietly cried, but the Yumi now only looked down at the table, at the space that separated them.“I…” She shook her head. A sad smile twisted on to her face. “I wasn’t expecting for you to remember that.”“Hm?”“The five-year thing.” Kiryu shook his head. He didn’t remember what she was talking about. “Never mind.” She didn’t explain. “You’re right. This is no life to live.” And she left it at that, letting the pain in her voice linger in the air as she walked away. Her shoulders shook, but she didn’t allow Kiryu to see her cry.The most time they spent as a family was whenever Kiryu slept at home. They still all slept in the living room together, with Yumi on one side, Kiryu on the other, and Haruka in between them. Sometimes Haruka would snuggle into Yumi’s side, sometimes she would lay across Kiryu’s chest.So, Yumi’s absence was especially felt that night. When she decided to sleep in one of the unused bedrooms instead of the living room with Kiryu and Haruka.“Where’s Mom?” Haruka asked, and Kiryu tried not to let his face fall.“She’s… sick.” A half-lie. She was probably sick of Kiryu, sick of the life that he had dragged her into.“Oh… She’s sick?” Haruka’s eyes peered up at Kiryu. She looked so much like Yumi, especially in the eyes. Kiryu could never detect any of his own features on her. Maybe that was for the best. “Is she okay?” Kiryu nodded. Haruka curled into his side. “I hope she feels better.”“Me too,” Kiryu murmured. He laid his hand over Haruka’s back. It was probably the last time he would be able to do so.
Sunday, January 14, 2001
Kamurocho
Kiryu’s Apartment
5:42
“Where are we going?” Haruka asked.Yumi crouched down to Haruka’s level. “We’re moving again, Haruka.”“Again?” Yumi nodded. “Why?”“Because Dad asked us to.” It was the simple, honest answer.Haruka looked up at Kiryu, who was pulling in Yumi’s last suitcase. “Where are we going, Dad?” she asked him. Yumi looked up at Kiryu, too. Her eyes were red. She must have been crying all night.“It’s…” What was he supposed to say? “Just you and Mom. I’m not coming with you.”Haruka’s eyes widened. “W-What? Why not?”Kids developed at different levels. Haruka was better at speaking than most kids her age, but she had trouble getting dressed by herself. And she would typically quietly keep to herself. She would only speak to Kiryu and Yumi.Haruka’s doctor said that such silence was disquieting for a healthy girl her age. But what was Kiryu supposed to say? How was he supposed to say that Haruka’s quiet nature was likely because she was born into a world of violence, and that she taught herself how to shrink away from everything and everybody because it was safer that way?And when Haruka cried, she did it quietly too. Kids usually liked to cry dramatically for attention, but it was like Haruka closed into herself when she cried. She was only four years old. She didn’t deserve to live a life like this.“Why aren’t you coming with us?” Haruka asked. She tugged at Kiryu’s pant leg. “Dad? Why not?”Kiryu shook his head. “I… I just can’t. I’m sorry, Haruka.”More tears filled her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him. She was barely tall enough to reach his waist. “I-I don’t want to leave…”“I’m… I’m sorry, Haruka.” Kiryu didn’t know what to do. Yumi was looking away, tears quietly falling down her face too. He let his hand settle on the top of Haruka’s head. “You’re… going to be okay. It’ll...” It’ll be okay. It was going to be okay for Yumi and Haruka. It didn’t matter if it was going to be okay for Kiryu.Yumi had to carry Haruka away. She wouldn’t let go of Kiryu.
Wednesday, January 17, 2001
Kamurocho
Bar Trench
20:03
Somehow, news of Kiryu’s divorce spread like wildfire. He wasn’t sure how. He didn’t question it, either. That was just another consequence of having all eyes on him. He didn’t have it within himself to care, anyway. Kiryu was a drone. He went into work, worked, went back home without thinking too hard about it. There was nothing else for him to do.That was probably why he let Majima pull him into a bar one evening after work. He didn’t feel like fighting back.Majima ordered both of them drinks. Kiryu didn’t care what it was. He was more than glad to down the glass. “So…” Majima elbowed at Kiryu. “Heard the missus up and left ya. Took the kid, too.” Kiryu didn’t say anything. There was nothing left to say. “Hey, look at me when I’m talkin’ to ya.”Kiryu looked at Majima, who was looking forward, at nothing. “Should’ve treated yer wife better,” he said. But it was odd. It didn’t sound like something Majima would say. Kiryu’s shoulders tensed on their own. “That’s what I’m supposed to say, huh? Should’ve treated yer wife better. Should’ve been a better man to her.”Kiryu blinked. “What?”But Majima went on as if he hadn’t heard him. “That’s life. That’s what ya gotta do. Ya find yerself a nice, pretty lady—‘cause that’s what you’re supposed to do. And she says she can handle the lifestyle. Ya believe her, even though ya really shouldn’t. And y’all get married. It’s all lovey-dovey and shit at first. She’s a nice girl. Ya do really like her. But then, when ya think about it, deep down inside—ya just can’t stop thinkin’ about yer kyodai.”Kiryu felt his insides freeze.“And ya wonder, what the fuck’s wrong with me? My kyodai’s out rottin’ in a cell, and I’m supposed to be livin’ the high life. I got the money, got the status, got the girl. But yer mind just keeps going back to yer kyodai. And ya wonder, ‘Do I deserve this? What’s the point of all this shit when I can’t even reap the benefits with my kyodai?’“Back to yer wife, though. ‘Cause at least she’s there. Yer kyodai ain’t there anymore. Ya gotta make do with what ya got. But when ya touch her, when ya kiss her, when ya fuck her—you just think: ‘She ain’t nothing like my kyodai.’ And it just makes ya miss him harder.”A heavy silence blanketed over them.They downed two or three more drinks before Majima spoke up again. “Am I wrong?” Kiryu said nothing. “See, I like ya for a whole lotta reasons, Kiryu-chan. One of ‘em is ‘cause we’re one and the same. Ya can hate my guts if you wanna, but we’re two strands from the same thread. We’re more alike than ya wanna admit.”He paid for Kiryu’s next drink before he asked if he wanted to go out to the back and fight. Kiryu accepted. He needed to drive his fists into something.
Wednesday, January 17, 2001
Kamurocho
Kiryu’s Apartment
22:57
The day ended with Kiryu having to break into his own apartment. He had a bad habit of leaving his key at home, since Yumi would always open the door for him. But Yumi was gone, and his key was locked inside, so he had to break the door down to get in.He waited a second, waited for Haruka to run to him and hug him, until he remembered. No. She wasn’t there, either. So, he moved a heavy dresser in front of the door to block it off and headed straight to bed.
Wednesday, January 17, 2001
Kamurocho
Kiryu’s Apartment
???
“Is this how you fucked your wife? No wonder she left you.” Nishiki took a puff from his cigarette. “Actually, no. Wait. You never fucked your wife. That’s why she left you.” Nishiki let smoke exhale through his nose, like a dragon. The air was sour with sex. “You were a worthless husband, hm? You really let your wife think there was something wrong with your dick, when in reality, it’s your mind. You don’t like women, Kiryu. Who the hell were you trying to fool?” He clicked his tongue. “Do you even like men, though? You don’t. Not really. You’re even soft right now. You don’t know what you like. What the fuck is wrong with you?”“Shut the fuck up, Nishiki.”Nishiki did a cold, ugly laugh that Kiryu had never grown used to. “Tell me to leave, then. Stop dreaming about me.” He flicked his ashes toward Kiryu’s face. Kiryu was more than tempted to pull their bodies apart. “…Hm? Nothing? That’s what I thought. You don’t want me to leave.” Nishiki inhaled around his cigarette. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re gonna wake up crying and humping your mattress like you always do. And then you’re gonna dream of me again tomorrow night—and the night after that, and the night after that. Do you know why?”“Why?” Kiryu asked, against his better judgment.“Because,” Nishiki pulled Kiryu down by the neck, until their foreheads touched, “I was your first. You married me first, remember?” This Nishiki was certainly born from the stuff of dreams, because the real Nishiki didn’t remember when they had renewed their vows during their last night in Fuchu. “And you’ve broken our vows over and over again. We were supposed to rise together and fall together. What happened to that? You don’t know, do you? You let the guilt consume you. And you know what I’m going to do to you when I come back.”Kiryu was frozen by Nishiki’s dark eyes.“Deep, deep down a little part of you knows this.” Nishiki pressed their lips together, licked against his lips, but there was no feeling there. He leaned closer to Kiryu’s ear. “You know that I’m going to kill you.”Kiryu woke up gasping for air. At least he wasn’t crying or humping his mattress or whatever-the-fuck Nishiki had said. But maybe that would’ve been better. Would’ve been better than the sinking emptiness he felt.
Monday, December 5, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
14:42
There were a few minutes left in the meeting, but Kiryu hadn’t pretended to take notes this time. This time, he let his mind go back. He thought about Haruka, about Yumi, about Nishiki, about Yuko, about everyone.He had been doing that over the weekend, too. Looking back. But there were only a few things worth reminiscing over, like when Haruka was born and watching her grow up. The times he was able to make Yumi happy. Other than that, there weren’t too many fond memories to look back on.A sudden idea popped into Kiryu’s mind, an idea for a list: top ten reasons to leave the yakuza. He spent a few minutes looking down at his notes, at the title. Only one reason came to mind, and he slowly wrote it down, “Because I’m unhappy.”
Monday, December 5, 2005
Kamurocho
Tenkaichi Street
17:11
Kiryu snuck out of work an hour before closing. He made sure he wasn’t seen by anyone who would stop him and ask him what he was doing. He just had to get home. Even though he couldn’t be there for them, it didn’t feel right to just work the day away when it was Haruka’s birthday and Nishiki’s release.“Ooh, I found ya, Kiryu-chan! And I wasn’t even lookin’ that hard!”Kiryu was pulled into an alleyway. Instinct took over. He swung his briefcase toward Majima’s head, but Majima stabbed at it with his tanto. Kiryu frowned. There were probably important papers in there, but he couldn’t really find it within himself to care.Also, oddly enough, Kiryu wasn’t really mad that he had been dragged into a fight with Majima. Majima was one of the few people who could keep up with him, even if he inevitably lost the fight. Such as now. Kiryu planted his foot on Majima’s chest after he slammed into the ground.“Okay, okay!” Majima wheezed out. “Ya won! Get off me.” Kiryu backed off. He offered a hand to help Majima up, but he slapped it away and sprung to his feet on his own like it was nothing. Like he didn’t have a bloody nose. In fact, he looked excited. A little too excited. He was jumping from foot to foot. “Guess what, Kiryu-chan! Guess who I saw a couple of hours ago.”“Who?” Who the hell was Majima talking about? It really could’ve been anybody.Majima’s eye, red-rimmed, squinted. “I saw yer little kyodai.”“…What?” Kiryu’s fists tightened, bruised but already ready to fight again. “Don’t lie to me about that.” That was low, even for Majima.“Oh, but I’m not.” Majima clapped his hands together. The grin on his face was downright impish. “Why would I lie about something like that? I wouldn’t play with my Kiryu-chan’s feelings!” He would. But for some reason, Kiryu felt like he was telling the truth. “I ran into him right over there, actually. Me and my boys.” Majima flicked his hand toward the street. “Ya wanna know what he looks like now?”
Yes.
“His hair is longer than I remember.” Majima pointed down toward his shoulders. “Hm, what else? He was fuckin’ whisperin’. I could barely hear him. Ooh, and he has all these wicked scars now.” He haphazardly pointed all around his face. “And ya wanna know what else?”
What?
“He looked scared outta his fuckin’ mind. He looked absolutely terrified.”
Monday, December 5, 2005
Kamurocho
Kiryu’s Apartment
???
Kiryu hadn’t dreamed about Nishiki in almost five years. Not since he asked Yumi and Haruka to leave him.Now, their bodies weren’t locked together as they usually were whenever Kiryu dreamt of him. Nishiki was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, putting out a cigarette, crying.This Nishiki that Kiryu dreamed of was stuck in a moment in time, stuck ten years in the past. This new Nishiki that Majima had described – longer hair, quiet, scarred, scared – Kiryu didn’t know him. And Kiryu wasn’t sure if he wanted to know him. Because if he did, would he lose this Nishiki? The Nishiki he once knew? The Nishiki who was his brother, his best friend, his everything. Kiryu knew that man likely no longer existed, but – he wasn’t ready to let go.“But you have to,” this Nishiki, the dream Nishiki, the past Nishiki, said. “You have to let go. Because I’m here. I’m back. And you know what I’m going to do.” This Nishiki looked at him with his unkind, unfamiliar eyes. “I’m going to kill you. I have to. For myself, for Yuko. For breaking all of our promises. I just haven’t decided how to kill you yet, though. Maybe with my hands. Maybe with a knife. Not with a gun. I want to feel it. I want it to feel personal.”Nishiki. Kiryu couldn’t get the words out.“I know what you’re thinking. You wish we could have some sort of reunion, right? You want everything to go back to the way it was. You wish it was something, like, ’you always loved me, we were meant to be together’—but it’s not. It’s deeper than that. It’s something we were never able to figure out.” Nishiki went into the motions of lighting up a new cigarette. The small flame from the lighter illuminated his tears. “It’s deeper than that,” he lowly repeated. “You know that I want to eat you alive. And you know that you would let me devour you whole.”Nishiki! Kiryu couldn’t move.Nishiki’s shoulders trembled as a sob worked its way through his body. “I hate you, you know. I always will. You were never there for me. I stopped you from killing Shibusawa. Why didn’t you stop me from killing Dojima?”
Nishiki…
“You were too late. You’re always too late. You wouldn’t even notice me if I walked past you, would you?”No, Nishiki, Kiryu wanted to say. I would recognize you even if I went blind. But he couldn’t move, and he was already waking up.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Tokyo Twilight
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Theatre Avenue
1:13
It was still raining, on and off.One time in elementary school, Yuko asked for help making teru teru bōzu charms – because that year’s spring, maybe 1978, hardly brought any rain, and she was worried about the flowers in the garden.She and Nishiki sat on the veranda for the entire afternoon, tying and twisting little cloth dolls over and over again, until dozens of charms hung and swayed upside down across the roof. Yuko drew smiley faces on her dolls, Nishiki only drew blank eyes on his dolls. Yuko’s dolls looked like happy little people, Nishiki’s dolls looked like empty little ghosts.That’s what Nishiki felt like now. He felt like a ghost born from the rain. He had been standing outside of the Todo Building for who knows how long, standing in the rain, looking at nothing – only dark water clouded his vision.How did it feel to escape death? It was cold. It was free. It was unreal. How did it feel to escape death over and over again? It was unreal, unreal, unreal. It was a false sense of freedom.Nishiki was standing in front of the building where his life ended ten years ago, where it almost ended thirty minutes ago. But the memory felt faraway already. It felt like the Dojimas tried to kill him years ago. It felt like the Dojimas killed him years ago. And he was a ghost who occupied Theatre Avenue. And he was a ghost who came out whenever it rained. He was a ghost who was remembered by none, forgotten by all.The rain stopped. Off. For now. It might return in ten minutes. It’s been on and off.A harsh shiver coursed through Nishiki’s body, hard enough to make his teeth chatter. But he knew it wasn’t just from the cold. It was from the inside. He wasn’t sure if he was still crying or if it was the rain.But the trembles racking through his body, the squeezing of his lungs, the feeling escaping his hands – he knew. He knew it was real. He knew he wasn’t a ghost, because his heart was beating, ready to fall from his chest. Because his heart still had room left to die.This was the most vulnerable that Nishiki had ever been. He didn’t have his shirt or his coat. Didn’t have his sunglasses. Didn’t have his gun. Didn’t have his cellphone or his cigarettes. All he had was the key to “his” apartment in his back pocket. But – he didn’t care. He couldn’t find it within himself to care that he was a sitting duck. There was only one thing on his mind: Kazama.Must have been all the father talk. That must have been why Nishiki was thinking about Kazama. But was Kazama a “father” to Nishiki? Was Kazama actually a “giving man” like Nishiki told the Dojimas?Well, he needed to have a father to feel like the least favorite son, at least.Whatever. Nishiki just wanted to talk to Kazama. Maybe “want” was too strong of a word, and “desire” would also be too strong. It was just – an itch. The urge had been surging underneath Nishiki’s feet while he played waiter in Stardust, fleeted in and out when he skirted around Kazuki – but. Now. He had to talk to Kazama now.The time was now.
Is it really time now?
A nightbird called out into the dark. Nishiki slowly moved his head toward the sound. He still didn’t understand what it meant exactly.“Saejima,” he whispered. He couldn’t even hear himself. He may never truly understand what the call of the nightbird meant, but a part of him knew it was Saejima. Most people would call Saejima a tiger, but to Nishiki, he was his dove. And this was a sign that the time is now.Nishiki’s feet moved on their own. He wandered down the street, in a haze. The world was entrapped in a similar haze around him. But that was fine. Because he was going to talk to Kazama. The time was now.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
1:18
It was a straight walk down from Theatre Avenue to Tenkaichi Street. When Nishiki was in front of Stardust again, Yuya burst through the doors, wide eyed – all over again.“Nishikiyama! Where the hell—?” Yuya’s eyes somehow widened even further when he took in Nishiki’s appearance: shirtless, soaked. “Uh…” He blinked, but the shock wouldn’t go away on his face. Nishiki didn’t blame him. “What happened to your clothes? And why are you all wet? And where the hell have you been?! It’s been two hours! We got an hour before closing and we’re still swamped, man!” A flash of annoyance crossed over Yuya’s eyes, but concern seemed to outweigh everything in the end.“I was…” How do you make a believable lie? You mix a little bit of truth in it: “I puked. All over my clothes.”Yuya’s shoulders slumped, all angry pretenses gone. “Did you eat the shrimp cocktails, too?”“Sure.” What an easy out.“Fuck, man!” Yuya clenched his fists, all angry pretenses back. “I’m gonna kick the chef’s ass! I told Kazuki-san we should fire him! How do you fuck up a drunken cocktail?! It’s just fucking shrimp and sauce and vodka!” Yuya walked back into Stardust with a loud huff, which Nishiki took as a cue to follow after him.Instantly, the loud ambience of the club overwhelmed Nishiki’s senses. It was louder now, due to the infamous post-midnight crowd – the reason why Nishiki ran off (and actually vomited) in the first place. He tried to keep his eyes trained on Yuya’s back, who was leading him toward the back area.“You good to keep working?” Yuya asked when they stopped. Nishiki nodded despite himself. “Alright. We got some towels and spare clothes in the closets. Just get drinks from the bar when you’re done and serve them.” The worried look in Yuya’s eyes didn’t go away. “And, uh… Thanks, Nishikiyama. For yakuza—or… former yakuza—you’re not too bad, I think.” His eyes flickered away, like he was nervous or something.Nishiki didn’t know what to say to that. And it seemed like Yuya didn’t want a response, either. So, he just nodded, and Yuya walked away, and Nishiki went to find the closets.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
1:24
This is exactly what Nishiki wanted to avoid: modern clothing.He was forced to wear host hand-me-downs – a tacky ass suit with a tacky ass tie and a tacky ass shirt. He looked like he… belonged. Like he actually worked at a host club. And his rain-slick hair was no help, sticking to itself in a similar greasy way like the other men in the club.Nishiki’s skin itched. He would rather parade around naked, honestly. But – he was blending in. For better or worse. A sheep in wolf’s clothing. And he would rather have the feeling of fraud crawl across his skin than the feeling of death. Take the good with the bad.It took a second for Nishiki to get into the swing of things. It took three tables until his hands stopped shaking. He couldn’t stop glancing at the door, waiting for Daigo’s boys to raid the club and drag him back out. For Yayoi and Daigo to change their minds. For—“Nishikiyama.”Nishiki turned around. Yuya was handing him a new set of drinks. “Deliver these highballs to table four.”“Um…” Nishiki cleared his throat. It was time. “Where’s Kazuki?”“Eh?” Yuya took a step closer, brought a hand up to his ear. “I can’t hear you!” It did seem like the music had gotten louder, or maybe that was just a consequence of Nishiki’s heightened senses.“Where’s Kazuki?” Nishiki repeated, hopefully louder.“Eh?” Yuya said again, but he surely heard him this time. “Finish your shift and I’ll tell you. You can’t get buddy-buddy with the boss without carrying your weight.”Nishiki rolled his eyes at Yuya’s fleeting form, but it was fair enough. On to table four. Judging from the chestnut-like scent coming off the drinks, he was delivering a green tea highball. Classy. But Nishiki was still craving beer, especially the cheap stuff.There was a young woman at table four, with an especially greasy haired host entertaining her. She didn’t look too far gone yet, because she bowed her head when Nishiki handed over her drink.“Thank you, si—Oh!” Her eyes widened – bad, but her smile remained – unknown. “Oh, we’ve met before! You were the man who bought all the clothes at Guy. Has it already technically been a day since then?”Oh yeah. Nishiki nodded. This was the store attendant who explained Ralph Lauren to him. He wouldn’t have recognized her without a uniform. She was done up in a little black dress right now.“Wait, I thought you owned an insurance company? You’re a waiter, too? And…” She snapped her fingers, remembering something. “Oh! I think I saw you delivering noodles, too! On a bike! It was so old fashioned!”Shit. How do you make a believable lie again? Just mix a little bit of truth in it: “I’m—uh.” Well, it’s not a convincing lie when you’re stuttering stupid and your heart is still surged with long-running adrenaline. “I… run my business in the morning, volunteer at a soba noodle shop in the afternoon, and I work as a waiter at night. You know how it is.” The words felt so clumsy coming out of Nishiki’s mouth, but the faster this woman would get off his case, the better.Such a lie would only be believable in Kamurocho, though. Where it was mandatory to wear at least two hats at once. That’s why the woman nodded, not questioning him. “I know how it is. I work at Guy during the week and model over the weekend.” And, again, since this was Kamurocho, Nishiki could guess what kind of modeling she did. She laughed behind her hand. “You must be the hardest working man in town! What’s your name? I don’t believe that you ever told me.”Maybe the old Nishiki would’ve flirted, would’ve used this moment as an opportunity to network and gather info – because who in the yakuza wasn’t an opportunist? But now, there was nothing to know. No ladder to climb. No ceiling to reach.So, he only said, “My name’s Hiroshi. Keep it to yourself,” before he winked, couldn’t will himself to smile, and walked away, left the woman behind, let the surrealism of the night sink in.What did he look like in the eyes of Kamurocho’s everyday workingwoman? Did he look like the fellow everyday workingman – or did he look like a man who had escaped death for the umpteenth time a few hours ago? Did he look like a man who was running out of time?
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
2:23
Nishiki was finishing up wiping down his final table when Kazuki walked over to him. Nishiki’s shoulders tensed on their own. The time is now. He turned to face him.Kazuki bowed, deep and proper and low. “Thank you for helping us, Nishikiyama-san. I would like to apologize for the unforeseen chaos tonight due to us being short-staffed—and for the chef also giving you food poisoning.” He held out his arms. His hands were cradling a healthy sum of yen. “This is your compensation for the night.”“Thanks.” More money wasn’t too bad. Nishiki pocketed it.“Yes.” Kazuki nodded. “Yuya told me that you were looking for me earlier. What is it?”Now or never.“I, uh…” Just let it out. Nishiki squeezed his fingers into his palm. Not enough to break the skin this time, but enough to feel grounded. “I want to get in contact with Kazama-no-oyasan.”“Alright.” Kazuki bowed his head. “I’ll call him right now.”“Can you tell him, uh… Tell him my cover’s been blown. Majima and the Dojimas know I’m back.”Kazuki nodded again. “Got it.” He went to the upstairs lounge.Nishiki tried his best to strain his ears. The hosts and waiters alike were beginning to shuffle out, done with cleaning up and exchanging goodbyes and goodnights. The blasting music had long been turned off, thank God. But Nishiki couldn’t really hear Kazuki, even though he could see him pacing back and forth with his cellphone. It looked like the upstairs lounge was pretty private after all, as long as you talked quietly.After about three or so minutes, Kazuki snapped his phone shut and made his way back downstairs. Nishiki choked on the inhale, stuttered on the exhale. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to run. It pulsated in his fingertips. Just run away and never come back.But Kazuki was standing in front of him, and he was speaking. And this was what Nishiki wanted – or, itched for; whatever-the-hell his fucked-up mind had been thinking about when he stood out in the rain, undead – so, he stayed. Tried his best to look Kazuki in the eye, even though he barely could.“Kazama-san told me that he will be available on Friday.” Kazuki leaned down slightly, pointed toward Nishiki’s arm. “May I?” Nishiki looked down. His arm was on the table, gripping the wet towel he had been cleaning with for dear life. It took him a second to register that Kazuki was pointing to a napkin underneath his elbow. Nishiki moved out of the way.Kazuki pulled out a pen from his inner jacket pocket and started to write on the napkin. It looked like an address. “Kazama-san told me that you can lay low at this location.” He slid the napkin over. “And that he’ll meet you there on Friday. Most likely in the evening.”It was an address to an assumed apartment in Chiba. Why Chiba? Sure, Kazama’s connections ran deep, but damn. Even in a whole other prefecture? Did he run an orphanage in Chiba, too? Would Nishiki even be surprised if he did? Whatever. It was probably just another safehouse apartment that Nishiki could lock himself inside until Kazama was ready to meet up with him. Shouldn’t be anything to think too hard about, hopefully.Nishiki pocketed the napkin. One last thing: “Do you… know anything about Dojima Daigo?”Kazuki gave a small nod. “I’ve heard some things about him. Why?”“Just… What happened to him?” Nishiki could already feel a hard lump forming in his throat. “Since I’ve been gone,” he quickly added.“Hm…” Kazuki crossed his arms, thinking about it. “I heard that he was quite angry after his father’s death, though this is only hearsay.” Nishiki’s shoulders tightened. The “he was angry at you” didn’t need to be said aloud. “I believe around 2001, he attempted to challenge a member of the Omi Alliance to a fight. This only resulted in him getting arrested, though. He was released from jail last year, I believe. And afterwards, he officially left the Dojima Family and the Tojo Clan.”Nishiki’s eyes widened. “He’s… out?” Then why did he have a gang of guys calling him “aniki”? What the fuck? But Nishiki bit the question down, because then he would probably have to explain why he knew that. And he was definitely not in the mood to talk about how the Dojimas almost killed him a few hours ago, especially to a sorta-stranger.“Yes.” Kazuki looked like he wanted to ask more, but it looked like he held himself back too. “He’s out.”
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
2:30
The trains don’t run until five a.m. Nishiki had about two and a half hours to kill. And he was going to kill them by sleeping. Holy shit, he was exhausted. He quadruple checked that his door was locked, tore off his hideous host clothes, doublechecked that the door was locked again, before he collapsed in bed.When was the last time he slept? Nishiki pulled the blankets over himself. Oh yeah, he had slept after he cried on his first day out – from about three p.m. to two a.m. And that was two days ago. He tried to sleep after Reina left, which was about at five a.m. yesterday, but he had been too antsy to sleep. And then he left at ten a.m. to shop.Nishiki suddenly felt his feet ache, settling in the fact that he’d been out and about all day. But the feeling was oddly nostalgic, a bittersweet reminder of his past life, of being up all night, catnapping through the day. Running on fumes, tobacco, and pride.He tried to close his eyes, whisk the memories away. But he knew it was useless. That his incoming dreams – always overstuffed with best forgotten memories – he had been attempting to fend off were going to torture him, anyway.
Lonesome Dove
Monday, July 1, 1996
Katsushika
Tokyo Penitentiary
20:43
At first, Nishiki figured that his second letter was going to be something clan-related. Something to rub in his face that he was seen as nothing but the scum beneath the yakuza’s feet. His first letter had been promptly delivered a few days after he was sent to Tokyo Prison, to kindly inform him that he was banished from the Tojo Clan – and under no circumstances would he be allowed to rejoin.But he was wrong. His second letter wasn’t clan-related. His second letter, delivered months after he got transferred to Tokyo Penitentiary, was a letter from Yuko.A letter from Yuko, saying goodbye. Saying that she was going to die soon. Her death certificate was in the envelope, too.Nishiki’s mind didn’t remember the in between. He didn’t remember what exactly Yuko’s letter said. How long it took for it to sink in that her death certificate likely wasn’t fabricated. That it was real. Yuko was dead.Yuko died. She died while he was in jail. She died, and he wasn’t there for her. His lifelong promise to her – to always be there for her, to always take care of her – he broke it. He wasn’t there for her last day, her last breath. She was gone, and he was never going to see her again.Nishiki didn’t remember the in between. Didn’t remember his hands going numb, didn’t remember his feet leading him to the workshop shed in the prison yard. He didn’t need to remember. He didn’t need to think in that moment. He just grabbed the bundle of frayed rope in the shed’s corner, hid it inside his uniform, and—“What’re ya doin’ in here?”Nishiki nearly jumped out of his skin.He spun around toward the shed’s entrance, fearing that it was a prison guard, that he’d been caught. That he’d be patted down, the rope would get confiscated, and he’d get thrown in solitary confinement for trying to kill himself again.But it wasn’t a guard. It was another prisoner. One that Nishiki had noticed before, since the guy was so fucking huge and towered over everyone, but he didn’t know anything about him. He didn’t know anything about anyone in Tokyo Pen. He had kept to himself over the past five months.The man took a step closer, inside the shed. Nishiki took a step back.Nishiki had fought many a battle before – got the scars to prove it, got the missing finger to prove it, got another man’s life on his hands to prove it. But he had a feeling, this guy would be a losing battle. Not just because this guy was massive, but because this was the wrong place, wrong time.Surely no one would be in the right headspace to fight for their life when they were minutes away from planning to hang themselves. Shit, they would probably just let the person beat them to death. Get the job done quicker. Death by another hand was still death.The man – with hair slightly longer than Nishiki’s, just barely brushing his shoulders – took another step closer. Nishiki took another step back. The weight of the rope against his chest, buried beneath his clothes, felt like it burned. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.The man seemed to be looking him over. And Nishiki automatically tensed up, went into a defensive stance without even thinking about it. Because when people looked him over, they were looking for a fight.The man took another step closer. And he was looking for a fight. Had to be. Nishiki clenched his fists until his fingers dug into the scarred skin of his palms. Until he could feel his numbed knuckles snap into themselves.The man took another step closer, another step. And Nishiki’s feet clenched, held steadfast to the floor. It was going to be a losing fight, but a fight nonetheless. Nishiki at least had enough dignity left to go down swinging.The man was getting closer, and closer. They were eye to eye. Nishiki tried to mask the way his body trembled. And the man – walked past Nishiki.
What?
Nishiki immediately turned around. He couldn’t have his back face this man. Couldn’t have his back face anyone anymore without his brain yelling at him to turn around. It was like a constant alarm rattling against his skull: Look out! Look out! Look out! Because no one could be trusted. He thought he made a friend out of his cellmate in Tokyo Prison, and look what the fuck happened. The fucker tried to kill him in his sleep.The man went to one of the workbenches toward the far side of the room and pulled out a small bag from underneath the seat. He cocked his head toward the door. “C’mon.” And he walked away like he was expecting Nishiki to follow him or something.The man paused, not looking back. His overwhelming frame was big enough to take up the entire damn doorway. So, Nishiki slowly followed after him. Probably to stave off the inevitable fight. It’d be better to fight a giant among men in an open space, he figured. Something… Something like that.(Alright. Honestly, in hindsight, Nishiki had no clue why he followed after Saejima that night. He couldn’t give himself a reasonable explanation, so he came up with the half-assed fighting excuse – because there was no good answer.It would’ve been easier to just go back to his cell, tell the guards he wanted to revoke the remainder of his free time to sleep early for tonight, and he likely would’ve been granted it because the guards were “softer” on him for whatever reason. Because they wanted something out of Nishiki that he couldn’t figure out at the time.He should’ve been thinking about where to hang the rope in his cell. Maybe he could make it work from the window. If that didn’t work, he could sneak out to the showers. And if that didn’t work, he could sneak out in the yard. And if that didn’t work, he could think of another way. He had all the time in the world to think about how to end his life.But in that moment, it felt like Nishiki wasn’t thinking. He just let his feet guide him, to follow after Saejima. And Nishiki didn’t know why. Still doesn’t know why.)The man walked to the farthest corner of the yard, and Nishiki stopped himself several times. It was dark out. It was a secluded area. The guy could probably strangle him with one hand and Nishiki’s body wouldn’t be found until sleep time. He could get away with it.So, he kept his distance once the man stopped, crouched down near the fence, and – started to make a… shushing noise. That’s the best way that Nishiki could describe the sound. The man’s voice was low and carried, heavy like the rest of him, and the sound he was making was almost like whispering waves. Oddly… calming. Which was a misplaced thought. Why hasn’t this guy tried to fight Nishiki yet?It was all so fucking strange that Nishiki took a step closer without thinking about it. A thought shot into his head, wondering if he was dreaming or something. It wouldn’t be too hard to believe that he passed out after reading Yuko’s letter.Then, there was a quiet rustling sound. Something was moving from the other side of the fence. Nishiki squinted through the dark to catch what it was. The beaming spotlights of the yard missed this corner.Through the darkness, Nishiki could make out the man reaching into the bag he had grabbed from the shed, pull something out, and push it through the holes of the fence. To whatever was moving on the other side.Okay. What the fuck. Nishiki took another cautionary step forward, until he could see a little clearer: this man was feeding edamame to a cat.It was a white-and-gray tabby cat. And it was nibbling soybeans out of the man’s palm – which were large, scarred, obviously no stranger to fighting either. But he still wasn’t trying to fight Nishiki. His hand only gently outstretched to nudge on the top of the cat’s head, and the cat leaned into the touch. They were obviously well acquainted with each other.“Don’t do it,” the man suddenly said. Despite his still calm, low, quiet tone, Nishiki flinched back. “Whatever you’re thinkin’ of doin’. Don’t do it.”“W-What?” Nishiki choked out. Despite the silence of the night, he couldn’t hear himself. His voice had gotten quieter even to his own ears lately.The cat mewed, nosing at the man’s hand. He fed it another soybean. “How many years do ya got in here?” Nishiki didn’t answer. “Five years? Ten? Twenty?” Nishiki stayed silent. The man shrugged, stroked a finger in between the cat’s ears. “Ya got a death sentence?” Nishiki paused before he shook his head. Where the hell was this going? “There ya go. Don’t do it.”Do what? But Nishiki didn’t say the words out loud. Because he already knew.“Don’t die in here, when ya can have a future out there again.”“I—I’m not—” Was he that obvious? Was he so obvious that a stranger could take one look at him and already sense his lack of will to live?“Ya got people waitin’ for ya on the other side?” Nishiki bit his tongue. “Then don’t die here,” the man repeated.He sounded so resolute, so damn sure of himself. Normally, Nishiki would feel pissed at a guy like this. But now, he only felt a distant feeling that he couldn’t describe. It was making his eyes water, but he didn’t know why. He could only physically feel the rope weighing heavily against his chest.“Don’t die without seein’ yer people again. Don’t die without knowin’ what yer life could’ve been. Don’t die wonderin’ what could’ve come next.”One of Nishiki’s least favorite things in the world was crying in front of strangers. He already hated crying in front of people he knew – like his sister or Kiryu – but crying in front of strangers was the worst.But in that moment, he let his tears fall. He didn’t have an answer for why he did. Probably because it was dark, because the man still had his back to him, because the guy was too preoccupied with still feeding and petting that damn cat.Because this man could’ve easily bested him in a fight. Because this man could’ve easily killed him at the snap of a finger. But instead, this man – in their first conversation with each other – told him don’t die. This man read Nishiki’s mind – knew about the rope he grabbed from the shed, knew his intentions – and said don’t die.Nishiki tried his best to quietly sniffle. He didn’t know how much time passed. Long enough for the man to run out of edamame, to drop the empty pods in the bag, for the cat to wander off into the night after a final pet to the head.“W-What’s—?” Nishiki swallowed the hard lump in his throat. The man glanced up at him, still crouching. Nishiki meant to ask, What’s your name? But he asked, “What’s… the cat’s name?” Because all of this felt too good to be true. Nishiki half-expected to wake up at any minute.The man didn’t look confused or surprised or anything. He just simply answered, “I named her Mukimame.” Of course, the soybean-eating cat would be named “soybean.”They remained silent until free time was over and they were called in for sleep time. When they parted ways, a nightbird cried into the dark. Nishiki slowly moved his head toward the sound. He didn’t understand what it meant.
Thursday, February 20, 1997
Katsushika
Tokyo Penitentiary
19:10
The man later introduced himself as Saejima, maybe a few weeks later. And a few months later, Saejima decided to take Nishiki under his wing – because he liked taking care of things, and Nishiki was likely the most broken thing he had ever come across. It took Nishiki a long, long time – months and months and months – before he accepted it. Before he slowly let Saejima in.He didn’t have an answer why. Nishiki was crushed to pieces. Everyone on the outside left him behind. Everyone on the inside was out to get him. His sister was dead. He had nothing left. He didn’t know why he kept hanging on to Saejima. He didn’t know why.One night, during free time, Saejima and Nishiki were leaning against a wall in the yard. And it felt like something snapped in Nishiki’s chest after Saejima’s quiet confession. “Y-You’re—You’re 18 Counts?” Saejima paused before he nodded.Nishiki never would’ve guessed it. This was “18-Counts” Saejima Taiga. A fucking legend. An infamous legend, but a legend nonetheless.Nishiki had heard the story but forgot the name, about a guy capping eighteen Ueno Seiwa Clan members at once. A shootout. Some massacre shit. Wasn’t Majima involved, too? Rumor had it that’s why he lost an eye, but Nishiki was never too sure. Talk was cheap and hearsay was everywhere.Just. Holy fucking shit. Nishiki wasn’t judging or anything. (Okay, maybe a little bit.) Killing eighteen people all at once – and living to tell the tale? Insane shit. Nishiki personally never saw himself as big shit for killing two people, and those were sorta self-defense instances, but. Shit.Nishiki just couldn’t imagine getting slapped with a twenty-five years to life sentence and being put on death row, either. He was only about two years into his sentence. Saejima was eleven years in, with no hope of ever coming out. He was going to die in jail – either by execution or old age. Whatever came first.Nishiki felt like maybe he shouldn’t bitch so much after all.“Yer turn,” Saejima murmured. And Nishiki took a deep breath before he told his story.Saejima didn’t seem shocked or anything. Shit, he’s been locked up for eleven years. He kept to himself, but he probably heard plenty of horror stories over the decade. He only asked, “You capped Dojima?”Nishiki froze. Saejima had mournful eyes but a stone face. He was hard to read at times, such as now.“You were Dojima Family?” Saejima went on.The reflex to run away pooled in Nishiki’s knees.“Calm down. Not gonna hurt ya. Just wanna ask ya something.” Nishiki’s heart skipped a beat, but the urge to run away tampered down a bit. “Dojima gave us the guns. He was still kickin’ ‘til ya killed him in ‘95?”Nishiki shrugged. “He was trying to. My oyasan basically ran the Dojima Family by that point.” Nishiki could easily imagine that Kazama took over the Dojima Family by now, or maybe even absorbed it into the Kazama Family. Who knew. He didn’t like thinking about how everyone was moving on and moving ahead without him.“Hm.” Saejima looked away for a second. “Is… the Sasai Family still around?”Nishiki had to rack his brain. There was a tingling sense of vagueness about that name, “Sasai,” but he ultimately came up empty. “I never heard of Sasai,” he admitted. “Maybe they’re before my time.”Saejima went quiet for a long moment. Nishiki thought he was going to get an explanation of the Sasai Family at first. Then, he thought Saejima had completely shut down. Until his throat bobbed and he suddenly asked, “Shimano still around?”“Uh, yeah.” Nishiki was just going to pretend like Saejima wasn’t acting totally weird right now.“He still big shit?”“Yeah.” Got a big head to match, too.“Is, uh…” Saejima cleared his throat, looked away again – which wasn’t like him. He was a guy who liked to hold eye contact for a little too long. But then again, just about anything could get underneath Nishiki’s skin now and days. “Is… Majima Goro still around?”Nishiki both was and wasn’t surprised by the question. Again, he always heard that Majima was involved in the Ueno Seiwa Clan hit in some type of way. He just didn’t know how far the tie went. And it wasn’t like he was gonna ask the guy. He’d probably end up with one eye, too. But this felt like a loaded question. Loaded with a history that Nishiki didn’t quite grasp.“Yeah, I know him,” Nishiki carefully answered. “What about him?”Saejima didn’t react. Looked like he was bracing himself, actually. “He still in the game?”Nishiki nodded. He opened his mouth, closed it, thought to tread lightly. “He’s Shimano’s captain. He has a family, too. The Majima Family.”Saejima nodded, still looking off into the distance. “What’s he like?”An even more loaded question. Nishiki was just going to play it straight. “Uh… I fought him once, in ‘88,” he blurted out. Saejima still wasn’t reacting, and Nishiki wasn’t sure if that was worse than if he did react. “Some crazy shit was going down then. Everyone was fucking killing each other over this plot of land.” Nishiki could only sigh at the memory. And for a moment, he felt like his old self. “We got in a fight over a misunderstanding. We were both trying to protect the same girl who owned the land and got caught up in everything.” What a fucking shitshow.Saejima reacted then. He snorted, but it was a humorless sound. “He kick yer ass?”“Yeah,” Nishiki admitted, because it oddly seemed like something Saejima wanted to hear. “I remember I was pissed. I thought it’d be easy to fight a guy with one eye, but I was proven wrong.”Saejima’s head spun around to Nishiki, his eyes wide. “One eye?”Nishiki nodded, not thinking. “Yeah, I thought I could just get him in his blind spot, but—”Saejima shook his head. “Whaddya mean, ‘one eye’?”“I mean, he… has one eye?” Nishiki blinked, before it clicked in his mind. Did Saejima only know Majima when he had two eyes? “Shit. Did he really lose an eye because of the hit? I thought that was just a rumor.”Saejima looked even more shocked. “He… lost an eye ‘cause of the hit?”“I-I don’t know,” Nishiki quickly backtracked. “I always heard that he did. I didn’t know if it was true or not. I figured he just… always had one eye.”It sounded lame now that Nishiki said it out loud. He admittedly wasn’t as curious over Majima’s missing eye as some other people were. Maybe the rumor was true, that he lost it as punishment because he fucked up the Ueno Seiwa hit somehow. But Nishiki always personally thought it was more likely he lost it in a street fight gone wrong.“He had two eyes last I saw him,” Saejima murmured. He was looking down, thinking about something that Nishiki couldn’t imagine. “What about now? What’s he like now?”“He’s… different.” That was the best way to put it. “I don’t know. The guy I fought in ‘88 and the guy he became over time. I… don’t know. It’s like two different people. He was dead serious during our fight. I thought he was even trying to kill me for a second. And then after that, he… I don’t know. He’s just batshit crazy now. He got the nickname ‘Mad Dog of Shimano’ for a reason.”Saejima huffed. “How crazy are we talkin’?”Nishiki shrugged. “I think I saw him jump off a building once to fight my kyodai. That kind of crazy.” The word “kyodai” always brought a bitter taste to Nishiki’s tongue. He wondered if Kiryu still referred to him as “kyodai,” or if Kiryu pretended like he didn’t exist. Maybe Nishiki even preferred the latter. “My kyodai’s more into him than I am. He would’ve given you a better answer.”Saejima made a sniffling sound. “What kinda patriarch is he? He got a good family?”“The Majima Family is crazy, too. But they’re strong.” Picking a fight with a Majima Family member would always end in knife cuts and possible burns from a few pyromaniacs. “They’re fucking obsessed with Majima, too. They’re like a cult.” Nishiki meant the words as a joke, but even he could hear his tone fall flat. “I’d say they’re a good family, though. There’s a lot of them, and they’re loyal to Majima. I guess you know you got a good family on your hands when your men would do anything for you without question.”Saejima made another sniffling sound, even quieter. “That’s…” He never finished his sentence. He was crying.Nishiki had never seen Saejima cry before. He didn’t know what to do. Should he say something? Would it be better if he acted like nothing was happening? He decided to do that, to just sit there and keep his eyes pointedly away from Saejima, in a vain display of “privacy.”It took a few minutes for Saejima to calm down. Nishiki didn’t ask why the guy started crying. There was something between him and Majima that he didn’t know about. Were they friends or something? Maybe since they had both been selected to carry out the hit, they might’ve had some sort of connection. Who knew. Now didn’t seem like the right time to ask. Nishiki stored the question in his head for later.Saejima broke the silence by pointing out a few constellations here and there. Nishiki pretended to be interested, as always. When free time was over and they were called back inside, Saejima said, “‘Night, kyodai.”Nishiki thought he misheard him. “K-Kyodai?” And from that day forward, Nishiki apparently acquired an impromptu kyodai. If such a thing existed.
Three Resurrected Drunkards
Tuesday, October 7, 1997
Katsushika
Tokyo Penitentiary
21:04
This is the story about how Nishikiyama Akira lost his privilege to eat oranges while staying in Tokyo Penitentiary.Nishikiyama Akira was Tokyo Penitentiary’s special transfer. Nishikiyama Akira was Tokyo Penitentiary’s little hired hand. They were prepping him for something, but Nishikiyama Akira couldn’t figure out what.Nishikiyama Akira got the “soft” treatment in Tokyo Penitentiary. Other prisoners would get caned for not making it to their cells by nine p.m. for sleep time. But if Nishikiyama Akira went to bed late, the guards would only say “mistakes happen.” Other prisoners would get verbally reprimanded for not marching in an orderly fashion during exercise time. But if Nishikiyama Akira slacked during his marching, the guards would only say “work harder next time.”Other prisoners would get thrown in solitary confinement for trying to sneak a rope into their cell. But when Nishikiyama Akira was caught with a rope in his cell, the guards told him “not yet” – because he hadn’t served whatever unknown purpose they needed him for yet.Tokyo Penitentiary performs searches following each meal time – breakfast, lunch, and dinner – to ensure that no food was being sneaked into the prisoners’ cells. Prisoners were prohibited from eating outside of the three restricted meal times. An hour should be an adequate amount of time to eat one’s meal to the fullest! There was no need to eat outside of the hour! And imagine what sort of unseemly concoctions that the prisoners could make with leftover food!It was autumn, when the honey citrus mandarins were in season.There was one morning when Nishikiyama Akira didn’t finish his breakfast. There were days when he simply didn’t have the heart to eat. He felt too empty. He felt too tired. He missed his sister. So, one morning, without thinking, Nishikiyama Akira stuck his unfinished orange in his pocket – saving it for later, forgetting that it was against the rules.When the guards searched Nishikiyama Akira after breakfast time, they found the orange in his pocket. They told him it was fine. As long as he properly disposed of the peel after eating it. And he was sent on his way for work time.During one of their two p.m. breaktimes, Saejima Taiga asked Nishikiyama Akira, “How many oranges ya got now?”And Nishikiyama Akira answered, “I don’t know. Like, five or six.”Saejima Taiga said, “That’s enough to make some pruno.”And Nishikiyama Akira asked, “What the hell’s pruno?”Saejima Taiga said, “Like hooch.” Then Saejima Taiga said, “Lemme teach ya how to make it later.”During their free time, after Saejima Taiga fed Mukimame the Soybean-Eating Cat, he taught Nishikiyama Akira how to make pruno – or hooch – or prison wine.Nishikiyama Akira took a bucket from the workshop shed. The guards didn’t confiscate the item from him. They only said to return it to its rightful place by tomorrow.Nishikiyama Akira then took about six oranges, crushed them, splashed them with water, and wrapped them up into an unused shirt. He put the shirt in the bucket, ran warm water in his cell’s sink, scooped the water into the bucket, and waited. He waited for the so-called fermenting process to take place.Nishikiyama Akira then took the shirt, filled with crushed and hopefully fermenting oranges, and wrapped it up in a towel and left it in the bucket for about two days.During these two days, Saejima Taiga challenged Nishikiyama Akira to ask the guards for sugar and ketchup – to add to the pruno (or hooch, or prison wine). The next day, Nishikiyama Akira found a small bottle of ketchup and a small bowl, filled to the brim with sugar cubes, in the corner of his cell.He added the sugar cubes and ketchup to the oranges, rewrapped them in his shirt, added warm water to the bucket again. He had to wrap them up again in towels later on.Nishikiyama Akira wondered why he was putting so much effort into making “pruno.” He was sure that it would taste horrible. Oranges, ketchup, and sugar sounded like a terrible combination. But Nishikiyama Akira knew that if he didn’t keep his hands busy, then he would think about wrapping his hands around his own neck. And that wouldn’t do. It would make Saejima Taiga upset. So, he kept his hands busy with rewrapping and reheating the oranges hopefully fermenting in the stolen bucket in the corner of his cell.After about ten days, the pruno was supposedly ready. During sleep time, Nishikiyama Akira laid another unused shirt over the bucket, and poured the hopefully fermented orange concoction over it, filtering it, letting the liquid sieve through. In the bucket, was… the pruno – or hooch, or… prison wine.It more so looked like a cloudy batch of orange juice than wine. Nishikiyama Akira sniffed it. His nose immediately shriveled up. It smelled more like vinegar than wine. Nishikiyama Akira did not want to drink it. But he had worked so hard on it, he might as well.When Nishikiyama Akira held the bucket up to his lips and drank the so-called orange wine concoction, he nearly threw up. It tasted like a bile-flavored wine cooler. But then, Nishikiyama Akira reminded himself that he hadn’t had alcohol in about two years – so, he plugged his nose and continued to drink it. He tried to convince himself to only taste the citrus and alcohol on his tongue, but it didn’t work. The bitterness overpowered all flavors.Afterwards, something bizarre happened to Nishikiyama Akira.He wasn’t drunk. He figured there wasn’t going to be enough alcohol in the pruno to get drunk. But he hadn’t been sleeping for the past two or three days. So, he figured it was more so a sleep deprived-induced hallucination more than anything, because – in the corner of his cell – he saw the three former Dojima lieutenants: Shibusawa Keiji, Awano Hiroki, and Kuze Daisaku.They were three floating, disembodied heads. Nishikiyama Akira screamed, for he was disturbed. He yelled, “What the fuck—?!” He shakily pointed to the head of Awano Hiroki. “Especially you! What the fuck! Y-You’re supposed to be dead! Majima killed you!”The head of Awano Hiroki said, “Majima didn’t kill me, fucker! I went out in a blaze of fuckin’ glory! Something you’re never gonna do!” He laughed. “People are gonna remember me for centuries. But no one’s gonna remember Nishiki-fuckin’-yama. Shit, I already forgot your name while I said it.”The head of Kuze Daisaku said, “Now, Kiryu—he could fuckin’ fight. He fell ten times, got up eleven. The man who sticks it out ‘til the end without stoppin’ is the man who wins everything. What the fuck have ya won?”The head of Shibusawa Keiji said, “The Empty Lot Incident was almost ten years ago. Why do you see us right now? Why are you still clinging to visions of the past? This was the one moment when you felt ‘alive,’ correct? But these were Kiryu Kazuma’s glory days, not yours. You were simply subservient to Kiryu Kazuma’s path. Nothing more. You will never feel ‘alive’ again—and if you do, it will only be underneath a stronger man’s will.”Nishikiyama Akira yelled again. He grabbed at his cell bars and waved the visions away, but he could still hear their utterances echo in his ears.The guards came running to his cell and confiscated the bucket. They told Nishikiyama Akira that he was not allowed to sneak out oranges from the cafeteria anymore. They told Nishikiyama Akira to get more sleep. They told Nishikiyama Akira that he needed to be in good health, in both body and mind, for Prisoner 4444.Nishikiyama Akira asked, “W-Who—Who’s Prisoner 4444?” And his hands trembled because his former cellmate in Tokyo Prison – the one he thought was a friend, the one who tried to kill him in his sleep, the one who cut off his little finger, the one whose throat he slit in self-defense – was also labeled as “Prisoner 4444.”The guards told Nishikiyama Akira that assassins from the Nikkyo Consortium, allegedly run by Third Chairman Sera Masaru of the Tojo Clan, have been breaking into the various detention houses of Tokyo – always under the guise of “Prisoner 4444.” The guards told Nishikiyama Akira that they accepted his transfer from Tokyo Prison to Tokyo Penitentiary because he killed Tokyo Prison’s Prisoner 4444, because he would hopefully draw out Tokyo Penitentiary’s Prisoner 4444.In that moment, Nishikiyama Akira felt like he was simply a pawn in everyone’s game. Easy to move, easier to sacrifice, easiest to discard for a greater piece on the board.
Unending Advance
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
???
The known past blended with the unknown past behind Nishiki’s eyelids, and fell into the intrinsic gray. He saw his cell. He saw his death, always lurking in the distance. He saw Saejima’s face. He saw a family – a father, a mother, and a daughter – eating dinner together, moving on without him.Fuck. Nishiki shook himself awake. He never should’ve tried to sleep in the first place. It was fruitless. He absently thought to himself that he should get ready to ride the first train out of Shinjuku and into Chiba, but – he couldn’t move.Nishiki could feel a heavy weight on his chest. He could barely get his eyes to open. He felt like he was underwater. Through his blurred vision, he managed to make out: himself.It was himself, sitting on his chest – weighing him down. It was him, but it wasn’t him. This Nishiki had to be from another life, surely. At least, that’s what Nishiki’s exhausted brain whispered to him. This Nishiki reeked of alcohol – of citrus, of bitterness, of all bad, buried-away thoughts.This Nishiki, in a voice so cruel that Nishiki couldn’t recognize it as his own, spoke: “You’re not allowed to leave. Once you’re in this life, the only way out is death. Did you forget that?”This Nishiki looked at the actual Nishiki with nothing but disgust in his eyes. And maybe shame, too. Since they were the same person, and had to share the same body. Nishiki would feel ashamed if he had to share his brain, too.This Nishiki, it felt like it was squeezing the air out of the actual Nishiki’s lungs. He still couldn’t move. He could only close his eyes and force himself to go back to sleep. To escape from sleep by waking, to escape from the waking world through sleeping – it was a never-ending cycle.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Nishikiyama’s Apartment
4:44
Nishiki woke up. Officially. There were no hallucinations swirling in the corner of the room. There was no one sitting on his chest, paralyzing him. There were no more dreams to taunt him.Whatever. He had a train to catch.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sunday, January 21, 2001
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
1:03
When Yumi was a child, she prayed every night. She prayed before she slept, asking for her parents to be brought back to life, asking for everything to all be a bad dream, asking to leave the orphanage as soon as possible, asking for her old life back, asking for a new life to come soon.When Yumi was a child, she believed that God whispered among the leaves, that angels slept among the endives, and that everything would be okay if she was patient and waited for good things to happen.But then she kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting.And as Yumi got older, she started to think that the sky was nothing but an empty void, and that humans were a deserted design.So, when she sat alone at the kitchen counter in the middle of the night, staring at nothing, she wasn’t praying. She was simply existing, sitting within her loneliness.Maybe she should’ve never stopped praying, for Haruka, for Kiryu, for herself. Maybe none of this would’ve happened. Maybe the child inside of her – the one who was forced to grow up as the little girl with no parents, the one who was forced to dream, wait, and dream – would’ve finally stopped being so restless.Maybe Yumi would’ve finally gotten what she wanted: her lifelong crush to love her back, to rebuild the family that was taken away from her, to be happy. But instead, she kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting for things to get better – and they never did. It felt like Kiryu threw her and Haruka away like they meant nothing to him—“I need some fresh air,” Yumi murmured to herself. She couldn’t let her thoughts spiral like this. She would just keep driving herself crazy.Yumi went out to the balcony. The apartment was modestly sized, with two smaller bedrooms. The balcony was as typically tiny as balconies in stacked apartment complexes usually were. Enough room to let a futon and clothes hang off the railing, maybe put some potted plants in the corner, and that’s it. Enough room for a woman to contemplate herself to death, at least.Yumi leaned her elbows against the railing and looked out into the night. The winter chill nipped at her bare arms, making the hair rise on her skin, but she didn’t mind it. It was grounding, actually. It reminded her of what her therapist would say, about how she could bring herself back to Earth when it felt like she was floating away. Let the intrusive thoughts in, question them, and then let them go.The thought had been cropping up in Yumi’s mind all week, since Kiryu pushed her and Haruka away and shipped them off to Chiba: Kiryu abandoned us. But Yumi knew the thought wasn’t true. She knew it was better this way, safer this way. But – just. It hurt. It hurt so much.She sighed, and the condensed air that left her lips reminded her that she was real. And that it was okay. It was okay to hurt. She just didn’t know how long it was going to take to let the hurt go this time. She had no more tears left to cry.Yumi whipped her head around. It sounded like a door was sliding open beside her.It was the balcony to her right, which would be her left-door neighbor. Yumi and Haruka had only been living in the apartment for a week. They lived on the third floor. The right-door neighbor was an older couple, a nice enough looking man and woman, who went out to walk a small dog almost every afternoon. Yumi had yet to see the left-door neighbor, though.There was a hushed, “O-Oh,” sound. One Yumi would’ve missed if she wasn’t all ears. Five years of an adrenaline-filled marriage to a yakuza patriarch would do that to a person. “I-I can… go—”Yumi quickly shook her head. “No, no. You don’t have to go. You can stay if you like.” She tried to offer a smile, but she was sure it was wilted.It turned out that Yumi’s left-door neighbor was a woman who looked to be around her age, maybe slightly older. Maybe closer to Kiryu’s age. The woman was still wearing a work uniform with a trench coat thrown over her shoulders, obviously fighting back the cold. She had an unlit cigarette in one hand, a lighter in the other. Her eyes were still darting between Yumi and her own balcony door.“I could leave, if you like,” Yumi offered. “I’m sorry for intruding. I didn’t think anyone would be out here so late.”“N-No…” The woman shook her head. Her voice was so quiet, could easily get lost into the night. Yumi had to strain her ears to listen. “That’s…” The woman took a slow step toward her railing. She had another trench coat hung over it, and it looked like she had a potted plant nestled in the opposite corner. “T-That’s fine.”Silence fell over them as the woman went into the motions of lighting her cigarette, slowly inhaling around it. She faced the other direction when she shakily exhaled smoke, even though she and Yumi were a good length apart from one another.The silence – Yumi wasn’t sure how to describe it. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable either. She did feel like she was intruding upon a private moment, still. Maybe the other woman felt the same way.The woman suddenly spoke up, “I, um… I don’t usually smoke…” She only flickered her eyes toward Yumi for a split second before she looked away.“Did you have a long day?” Yumi asked. The woman paused before she nodded. “I understand, so did I.” Yumi sighed, she crossed her arms against the railing. “But this is no good, hm?”“W-What do you mean?”“For me, I’ve just been sitting in my sadness,” Yumi admitted, and it felt fine. It didn’t feel as if it was something she should hide, something that she should just keep a secret. She’s been sad for, what, about five years now? She let it become her state of being. “But after tonight—no more!” Yumi straightened up and clapped her hands together, as if she was about to pray, and she caught the way the woman startled slightly in her peripheral at the sudden sound. “I can’t keep living like this. No matter how many times my life starts over, I have to keep going. I have to keep moving forward. That’s all I can do. There’s no going back.”The woman stilled, lowering her cigarette. Yumi blinked when she turned toward her. The woman had a shocked look on her face. Yumi quickly waved her hands. “Ah, sorry! I was being a little dramatic. Forget what I said.”The woman shook her head. “N-No. I… I understand.”Yumi nodded. Maybe she and this woman were one and the same in that aspect. When she smiled again, it felt a little more genuine. “Well, with a new life comes new decisions, so I’ve been thinking about cutting my hair. What do you think?”The woman gave a look that Yumi was expecting – one wondering why Yumi was talking so familiarly to her, a stranger. But Yumi found out over time that the best way to get people to open up right away is to act as if you’ve always been friends in the first place.“How… How much hair are you thinking of cutting off?” The woman asked.“I don’t know. All of it?” Yumi couldn’t help but laugh when the woman gasped. “I don’t want to shave it all off, if that’s what you’re thinking! I’m thinking about getting a pixie cut.” Because maybe if Yumi got a new hairstyle, it would solidify her new life. At least, that’s what she’s been thinking for the past few days, when she dragged herself out of thinking about why she had a “new life” to begin with.The woman seemed to be considering it, and it was the longest that her eyes lingered on Yumi. She then ashed out her cigarette against her railing before she gave a small nod. “I think it would look nice on you,” she murmured. And Yumi felt like she was beaming from the inside.“Thank you. I’m Sawamura Yumi, by the way. What’s your name?”“Saejima Yasuko.” Yasuko glanced at her door. “I should… try to sleep.” She bowed her head. “Um… Goodnight, Sawamura-san.”“Oh, just ‘Yumi’ is fine. Goodnight.”Yasuko nodded again before she walked back into her house.Yumi stayed outside. Long enough to feel somewhat tired, but not tired enough to sleep.She laid down in her room, tried to close her eyes, but sleep never came. Haruka eventually woke up, left her room to go to Yumi’s and drearily snuggled into Yumi’s arms. Maybe it was a bad habit, maybe Haruka needed to learn to sleep in her own room soon. But Yumi didn’t have the heart to let her go.
Sunday, January 21, 2001
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
4:27
After a few hours, sleeping for only a couple, Yumi got up. She was careful to not rouse Haruka.Yumi needed to establish a new routine for herself and Haruka. She needed to continue job searching, because she’ll be damned if she’s going to be shacked up in an apartment that’s paid off by Kiryu – who she didn’t know if she was even going to see again. But it was best to operate on the worst-case scenario: Yumi was a single mother who just moved to a new city, and she needed a job.Yumi turned on the TV for background noise before she made her way to the kitchen. An early news station should be signing on right about now. Yumi went into the motions of making breakfast, and planning the rest of her day.She turned on the rice cooker, leaned against the counter, and absentmindedly looked at the TV. She was going to find a place to get her hair cut this morning or afternoon, it was decided. And she was going to find a park that Haruka could play at, and do some job hunting through the newspapers in the meantime. Maybe talk to other moms in the neighborhood, properly introduce herself.And then she could look at job boards online when she got home, before dinner. And maybe tonight she could go out on the balcony again, and maybe Yasuko would be there and they could spark up a proper conversation – because Yumi could always tell at first sight when a woman had a story to tell.Yes, that sounded like a plan. And like a lot of coffee needed to be made, too.“—In further news,” a newscaster said, cutting through Yumi’s thoughts, “the Director of the Ministry Intelligence Agency, Jingu Kyohei, has officially married the first daughter of the Prime Minister, Koizumi Kiyoko—”Yumi’s ears perked up. Jingu Kyohei? That name sounded familiar. She fully turned to the TV.When a picture of the man flashed on the screen, Yumi recognized him. She had seen him at various Tojo Clan meetings, the ones that were more “formal” and wives were invited to. The clan had a hold on a big-time politician married to the Prime Minister’s daughter, huh? Corruption is everywhere, isn’t it?The rice cooker beeped. Time for breakfast, and another long day.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Serena
5:01
Nishiki put his left hand against the nearest wall of the elevator, tightened his right hand around his duffel bag. The elevator wasn’t even rattling, just Nishiki’s heart against his chest. His lips were even buzzing with anxiety.It was ridiculous. He had talked to Reina before, he shouldn’t be so nervous to see her again. But then again, his mind was fucked and treated everything, big and small, as a threat. Nishiki was all too self-aware of the fact.But – it only made him wonder. If meeting Reina made him feel like this, then how the hell was he going to feel when he reunited with Kazama? If he ever met up with Yumi? If he ever met up with Kiryu?The elevator dinged. The doors opened. No turning back now.“Ah, welcome,” Reina’s voice called out, all too familiar. “But I’m sorry, we just closed—” When Nishiki fully stepped into view, Reina dropped the wet towel she had been wiping down the bar counter with, eyes wide. “N-Nishikiyama-kun?”Nishiki felt too uneasy to even put on a fake smile. He made sure the door was closed shut behind him. Reina still looked shocked as she watched him approach the bar. “What?” Nishiki forced out a small laugh. “Is it really that surprising to see me?”“I…” Reina wrung her hands together as she shook her head, let out the breath she must have been holding. “It’s funny. I used to have dreams of this moment.” She shook her head again as she picked up her dropped cleaning rag. “I would have dreams of you walking in here as if nothing happened, and telling me that you never left—that it was all… one long, terrible nightmare…”Nishiki didn’t know what to say to that. He could only continue to tighten his hold on his duffel bag. His knuckles had surely gone white by now. Still, “What do you think… would’ve happened?” he couldn’t seem to help but ask in a low whisper. “If… none of this ever happened?”Reina slowly blinked. Nishiki could barely look at her. “Ah, I don’t know,” she gently said after a beat. “What do you think, Nishikiyama-kun?” It felt more like Reina just wanted to hear Nishiki’s answer, not that she didn’t have one of her own.What would’ve happened if Nishiki never went to jail? That was a question he mulled over for the past ten years, of course. But there were too many variables. The what-ifs were endless.There was the perfect world where Nishiki got everything he wanted, got the recognition and respect he wanted. Not because he was Kiryu’s kyodai, not because he was one of Kazama’s kids, not because he was a part of the Dojima Family, not because he knew every hostess in the district, not because he drove a Toyota Chaser, not because he wore expensive suits – but because he was Nishikiyama Akira.But that perfect world was never meant to exist. Nishiki remembered feeling that way especially sometime in the early ‘90s. That it didn’t matter how hard he worked, he was never going to get what he wanted. But he always buried the feeling down, choked it down, kept running a helpless race – because what else was he supposed to do?So, after a long pause, when Nishiki shrugged and answered, “I don’t know,” he wasn’t dodging the question. He meant it. He could only envision empty life after empty life. Nishiki cleared his throat. Moving on. “Do you have the clothes I sent here?”A small, easy smile made its way on to Reina’s face. “Ah, I figured that was you. I left them in the backroom.” Reina went to move around the counter, but stopped herself. “Would you like something to drink first?”“Fuck yes.” Nishiki was more than glad to toss his bag aside and flop himself down in a seat at the bar with a heavy sigh. He could feel an indescribable feeling crawling down his back. He decided to name the sensation “the past.”Reina didn’t ask what Nishiki wanted, already going into the motions of pouring his go-to drink back in the day. He probably would’ve asked for it, anyway. He didn’t know why he constantly craved normalcy when it was undeserved and unattainable. Whatever.His mind had been going in circles since he woke up. He didn’t know why his thoughts were racing so damn much. Maybe he was just nervous about going to Chiba and meeting Kazama, and was directing the anxiety at anything and everything. Made sense.Nishiki looked around Serena as he slouched his shoulders. “Reina,” he called out. Reina instantly turned around and set his drink in front of him. There was even a large ball of ice in the glass. Classy shit, and nostalgic. “I thought you said the place looks the same.”“Mm?”“Serena looks completely different,” Nishiki reiterated, taking a sip from his glass. The whiskey burned going down his throat, but damn, it tasted like home. “I thought you said you haven’t renovated at all.”Reina looked around as if she was seeing her own bar for the first time. She suddenly laughed, a light, ringing sound that Nishiki didn’t know he would miss so much. “Well, there was a fire. It wasn’t exactly a renovation on my terms, so I don’t believe it quite counts.”Nishiki nearly choked on his drink. “W-What? There was a fire?” He looked around again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, exactly. Burns, singes, blackened marks that wouldn’t come out. But he saw none of that. Just the same familiar walls wrapped beneath different wallpaper. Even the lounge furniture was the same but different. “I can’t tell,” Nishiki murmured, giving up on looking for evidence. “What the hell happened?”Reina nonchalantly hummed. “One of Kiryu’s ‘friends’ set the place on fire for vengeance in 1999. Kiryu-chan paid for the repairs.”“Oh…” Yeah, Nishiki didn’t know what the hell to say.Thankfully, Reina changed the subject. She went around the counter and headed toward the backroom. “I can’t help but wonder what all of these clothes are for.”“I just needed new clothes.”“Of course.” There seemed to be a quiet amusement around Reina’s words. She returned to the bar with a handful of shopping bags, which she set on the counter with a huff. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in clothes like these before.” She pointedly picked up a green scarf, which Nishiki winced at. Reina laughed, a little louder. “Do you need help carrying everything back to your apartment?”Nishiki shook his head. “I’m not gonna take everything.” Especially not the ugly ass scarf that Reina had pulled out. “And I’m not going back to the apartment. I don’t wanna pack too much.”“Hm, I was wondering about that too.” Reina gestured toward the duffel bag. “Are you leaving already?” Nishiki finished off his drink instead of looking at Reina, because she sounded so suddenly sad.“Yeah, I’m going to Chiba to meet with oyasan.”“Oh, I see.” A beat. “I wish you safe travels.”“Don’t say it like that, Reina. I’m not leaving forever.” Nishiki wasn’t sure if what he said was true or not, though. He laid some bills on the counter, definitely overpaying. But he would never be able to pay Reina enough.He picked up the shopping bags and duffel bag, headed to the lounge area, and began to pack. Reina resumed cleaning, occasionally humming a song to herself that Nishiki didn’t recognize.Shit, if Nishiki booted up the karaoke machine, how many songs would he even know? How much has music changed since he’s been locked up? He absently wondered how many idols’ careers have dawned and dimmed over the last ten years. That would be a lot of catching up to do. (You know, hypothetically speaking. If he was interested in idols, is all.)Nishiki had bought the duffel bag at Don Quijote before heading to Serena. After he woke up, he stuck what little he had into a spare plastic bag before leaving “his” apartment, which he couldn’t picture coming back to. He looked through the plastic bag now: his spare money, his tanto, his ammo (with no gun to use anymore), his spare clothes (he finally threw away his bloody clothes from October 1, 1995, wrapped up in another plastic bag), and his letters.They were the letters that had been left waiting for him in his apartment, and the letters from jail. He carefully opened up the letter he had received from the Tojo Clan, announcing that he was banished. He had slipped two other papers inside of the envelope before he was released from jail: two letters from Saejima to his sister and to Majima.Nishiki had felt like he was going to get caught by the officer who looked over his things before he was released. What type of guy keeps his own banishment letter? He should’ve been questioned about that. But whatever. As long as he managed to smuggle out Saejima’s letters, which he wrote a day before his execution, it was fine. Nishiki just didn’t know what to do with them.He certainly couldn’t imagine simply handing over a letter to Majima, especially not now that Majima was into blowing up family offices at the moment. And Nishiki had no idea where to find Saejima’s sister. Judging from the letter’s recipient name, it was “Saejima Yasuko.” That was all the info he had on her.Nishiki let out a breath through his nose as he properly packed everything away into the duffel bag. He then shifted through the shopping bags; mind made up to only keep the most inconspicuous, dark colored clothes and leave the more gaudy, preppy stuff that wasn’t his style behind.Nishiki found himself slow to get up to his feet after he zipped up the duffel bag. Reina was wiping down a series of glasses, but immediately perked up the moment he stood. “Are you leaving now?”Nishiki nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.” The words sounded like a reminder for himself, too. He set the duffel bag over his shoulder and picked up the half-empty, half-full shopping bags.“Nishikiyama-kun,” Reina called out.Nishiki looked back, halfway to opening the door. “Yeah?”“What could’ve happened if you never left is something that I would think about a lot.” She set down the dried glass in her hand on the counter. “I remember when Kiryu and Yumi got married, I thought, if you were still here, then maybe you and I could’ve gotten married too.” She laughed behind her hand, surely at the shocked look on Nishiki’s face. “Ah, but that’s just another silly dream of mine, right?”“R-Right.” Nishiki couldn’t imagine it.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
West Park
5:23
It was a split-second decision, after Nishiki passed by about two or three homeless men on his way to the train station.“Hey,” Nishiki called out. A few of the homeless guys looked at him, but most of them didn’t care. “I… got some clothes I don’t need. If any of you guys are interested.” Sure, the clothes weren’t Nishiki’s style, but it would be a shame to see them go to waste nonetheless.Some of the guys seemed interested at the offer, particularly one with a hat and slightly longer hair. He immediately skimmed through the bags that Nishiki set down. But if the guy said anything, Nishiki wouldn’t know. He was already gone. He had to get to the station in time. No reason to linger.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Kamurocho
Shinjuku Station
5:30
The train made it on time. Nishiki made it on time. There was barely anyone on board, too. Seemed like everything was going well for once. Nishiki slumped down in a far-off seat facing the door.It was going to be a one-and-a-half-hour ride to Chiba. He had to stop at Ochanomizu Station, Chiba Station, and Chiba’s Shiyakusho-mae Station in order to get to the address in Chiba.It was going to take an hour from Shinjuku Station to Ochanomizu Station, so Nishiki could take a quick nap if he wanted to. He was tired, but he was also nervous. It seemed like the feelings canceled each other out somehow.It looked like Nishiki was going to spend the next hour stewing in his laments. Ugh. As if he wasn’t tearing himself apart over what the fuck he was going to possibly discuss with Kazama, anyway.Well, Kazama definitely wanted something out of Nishiki. Giving him an apartment, setting him up with a job, and calling him “Akira”? Yeah, he wanted something. But Nishiki couldn’t figure out what. And he couldn’t figure out why the hell he needed to go all the way to Chiba, too.The best guess was either Kazama had some sort of convoluted personal problem or clan-related problem that he wanted Nishiki involved in for some reason, and that he had a safehouse in Chiba – but that didn’t explain the why either.Nishiki leaned his head back against the window, watched as Kamurocho whizzed by. The district never looked as interesting in the daytime. The past Nishiki would never dream of being awake this early. He would usually eat a very late dinner-slash-very early breakfast and knock out at around this time, and then get up at noon and start the process all over again. And then—“Hiroshi-kun!! Is that really you?!”The fleeting view of Kamurocho, melting into the rest of Shinjuku, was suddenly blocked with smothering arms. For a second, Nishiki thought – this is it, this is how he died: getting strangled to death on the train in broad daylight. What a way to go.But it wasn’t an assassin. It was a crying woman, blubbering while hugging him. And wait, did she say “Hiroshi-kun”?Nishiki pried the woman off of him. Not with his full strength as to not potentially hurt her, but with enough force to get the message across. The woman – who looked young, maybe early to mid-twenties, wearing a fur collar coat and carrying a handbag – wouldn’t stop crying.“H-Hiroshi-kun, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a bundle of pocket tissues, which she unceremoniously blew her nose into. “W-What happened to you? Where have you been?!”“Uh… Sorry,” Nishiki muttered. “I’m not ‘Hiroshi.’” Why did he feel like a doctor delivering a terminal diagnosis to a patient?The woman gasped, even jumped back. “Eh? What—?” She wiped her eyes, looked over Nishiki again with hopefully unblurred vision. “Oh…” She sharply bowed. “I-I’m so sorry, sir! You look just like my boyfriend! I haven’t seen him in months, I…” She hung her head down as she straightened up.Was Nishiki doing this? Yeah, sure. Why not. He let out a deep sigh as he moved his duffel bag aside from the seat beside him. “Tell me who Hiroshi is.”The woman wiped her eyes again. “H-Huh?”Nishiki patted the now-empty seat beside him. “These two guys who run a soba shop thought I was Hiroshi too, but I never heard of the guy. Tell me about him.”“Oh. Well…” The woman took the proffered seat, setting her purse on her lap. “Hiroshi-kun is known by just about all of the noodle shop owners in Shinjuku. His father ran a curry ramen shop in Muroran and then moved to Kamurocho about five years ago to spread his business, but no one was buying. So, Hiroshi-kun did his best to spread the word. He would offer people around town favors all day and all night, and only ask them to buy a bowl of curry ramen from his father as payment. And he would do all sorts of bike tricks, too—without ever spilling a drop of broth! I think he even beat the world record for fastest person on a bicycle.”“W-What?” What was it with women just casually admitting the wildest things? Like, Reina had said her bar once burned down due to a yakuza scuffle as if she was talking about the weather.“Mhm!” The woman smiled, though her eyes were still reddened with tears. “When Hiroshi’s father retired and moved back to Hokkaido, Hiroshi-kun decided to stay in Kamurocho. He branched out his delivery services to the rest of Shinjuku, too. He could deliver noodles faster on a bike than by car. A lot of shops liked to hire him, and he especially liked to help people in need—like his father once was.”Damn. This guy sounded like a hero, alright. Kamurocho definitely needed more of those.“What… happened to him?” Nishiki asked.“I don’t know.” The woman sighed. “He just disappeared one day. It’s like he vanished into thin air! He didn’t tell me that he was planning on going anywhere. I asked his family, but they haven’t seen him either.” Her shoulders slumped. She looked ready to cry all over again.“Did he say anything weird the last time you saw him?” Wait, why was Nishiki trying to play detective for this random woman and his alleged doppelgänger? He already had enough on his plate.“Hm…” The woman’s frown deepened. “About a week before he disappeared, we told my parents that we were planning to get married. My parents disapproved, though. They said I needed to find a man with a ‘real job.’ I think he was pretty upset about that and ran away afterward. I don’t know.”Nishiki snorted. “A man shouldn’t run away from his problems,” he muttered, but the words were empty. He couldn’t even take his own advice.“Again,” the woman bowed her head, “I’m sorry for throwing myself at you, sir. You do really look like him. Did you say that other people mistook you for him, too?”Nishiki nodded. Now, he was more than curious as to what the guy looked like, if the man’s own girlfriend could even be mistaken. The woman was a step ahead of him on that. She reached into her purse and pulled out her cellphone, which had an abundance of charms attached to it that chimed together when she flipped it open. The charms were all tiny bowls of ramen.The woman held her phone out to Nishiki. “This is Hiroshi-kun.” He squinted at the screen.Okay, wow. This guy did look like him, right down to the hair. The guy’s eyes were brighter, though. And his face wasn’t scarred up. Maybe Nishiki had just discovered a secret sibling. He didn’t know shit about his parents. It could be possible.“I… hope you can find him soon,” seemed like the only right thing to say.The woman smiled again as she snapped her phone shut. “Thank you, sir. I hope you can find what you’re looking for, too. Wherever you’re going.”
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
7:18
Nishiki was right. The address led to a three-story apartment complex. The building looked to be on the average side, neither on the poorer side or the richer side. The neighborhood looked normal enough, too.But Nishiki would’ve been on edge even if he was behind a wealthy gated community armed to the teeth with security. He had already transferred his tanto from his bag to his coat pocket in the bathroom of Shiyakusho-mae Station.It took some configuring for Nishiki to find the exact apartment number in Kazama’s address. He managed to stumble upon hopefully the right room: the second-to-last door on the third floor. And – shit.Shit, shit, shit. Nishiki didn’t have a key. How the hell was he supposed to get in? If this was just another empty apartment to hide in, then… Was the key hidden somewhere? Was the door unlocked with the key inside? No. That would be fucking stupid. Nishiki was going to try to open the door, anyway. You know, just in case.Nope. It was locked. Now what? There wasn’t a potted plant or anything else nearby that could potentially hide a key. How was Nishiki supposed to get in?Nishiki looked around. There were people walking below, heading to work and school. But the floor Nishiki was on was quiet. He tried the door again. Still locked. Without thinking, he knocked. There shouldn’t be anyone inside, right? Kazama said he wouldn’t be available in two days. But how did he expect Nishiki to get into an apartment that he didn’t have the key for?Suddenly, there was a shuffling sound coming from inside. Shit! There was someone actually inside the apartment? What the fuck! Why did his dumbass knock?!Nishiki automatically turned on his heel to leave. All of this was a mistake. He should’ve never come to Chiba. He should’ve never come to Kamurocho—“Yasuko, did you forget your key?” A woman’s voice called out from behind Nishiki. He had barely stepped away from the door of the apartment, but he stopped. Stopped dead in his tracks as if he had been petrified. Because that voice. No. No, it couldn’t be. “Hm… I guess I’m hearing things,” the voice murmured.A large part of Nishiki didn’t want to, but he forced himself to. He turned around. Just. Just to make sure that he was hearing things. To make sure that it was a coincidence. Because it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.The door was halfway to closing before Nishiki turned around, but there was a pause. The woman who opened the door, who spoke – she paused. She glanced at Nishiki. Then she did a doubletake at Nishiki. Then she gasped. And pushed the door fully open again.“N-Nishikiyama…? Is that you?”
Yumi.
It was Yumi. Yumi – with her hair cut short, wearing more makeup than Nishiki remembered, who was older, who was here. The same but different.Nishiki couldn’t breathe. Fuck.Yumi’s eyes were wide, like she was looking at a ghost. Because she was. Nishiki was a ghost. He wasn’t supposed to be alive, and he wasn’t supposed to be here. With Yumi.Flight-or-fight instincts were taking over. Nishiki’s heart was slamming against his chest. He felt seconds away from a heart attack. He moved to leave all over again. He had to be dreaming. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real.“Wait!” Nishiki’s sleeve was grabbed. He could’ve easily pulled away from Yumi and ran, and act like this never happened. But he let himself be pulled back, to face Yumi again. “Nishikiyama-kun… What…?” Tears were quickly filling her eyes.Nishiki didn’t stop her when she moved to grab his hand. She squeezed her hand around his. Tightly. Her hands were as soft and warm as Nishiki remembered them being. He missed the sob working its way through his chest, but he could feel the tears gathering in his eyes.Yumi let out a teary laugh of disbelief. “What are you doing here? What—?” Her tears overwhelmed her. She couldn’t talk anymore. She looked ready to fall over, even.Nishiki reflexively moved to catch Yumi, and she cried into his chest. And he didn’t know what to do. This still felt unreal. In the back of his mind, he wanted to see Yumi. But not like this. Not so soon.His hands hovered over Yumi’s trembling shoulders before he decided to pull her closer, to hug her. He hadn’t seen her since that night. Her face in that moment had been burnt into his mind. She had looked so out of it. She couldn’t even move. But this – Yumi tightened her fingers into Nishiki’s side, and began to pull back. Her face right now, Nishiki would take this over anything.Yumi hastily wiped at her eyes, but her tears wouldn’t stop. “Come in, come in!” She pulled him and Nishiki gave in to the motion. “What are you doing here, Nishikiyama-kun? You haven’t said a word yet!” She rushed to take his duffel bag and coat to drop them off in the genkan before she fully pulled him into her apartment. She didn’t let go of his hand.Nishiki was still crying. If Yumi was actively crying, then Nishiki was passively crying. He felt weightless. Like he wasn’t truly there.Maybe it was then when Yumi realized something was wrong, that Nishiki’s silence was too prolonged, when she pulled Nishiki into the joined kitchen and living room area. “Nishikiyama-kun?” she slowly asked, tone as gentle as ever. “Are you okay—?”“Mom…?”Nishiki’s head whipped around. In the corner of the kitchen, there was a girl. She was holding a frying pan. But she wasn’t in the middle of cooking. Nishiki knew a defensive stance when he saw one.This girl. Haruka, wasn’t it? This was the kid that Nishiki couldn’t stop thinking about. The girl didn’t look like Kiryu, but she undeniably looked like Yumi. The eyes, sort of the lips and the nose. Fuck.“Haruka.” Yumi shakily tried to dry her eyes, but the effort was fruitless. “I’m okay. Sorry. Can you go to Yasuko’s for now? And ask her to help you get ready for school today?”Haruka looked hesitant. Nishiki couldn’t picture being in her place. Imagine getting up for school one day and you see your mother and some weirdo man crying in each other’s arms. Nishiki wouldn’t blame the kid if she had ended up swinging the frying pan at his stomach.Haruka set the pan aside, never moving her eyes from Nishiki. It seemed like an eternity passed before she nodded and moved to leave the kitchen. Nishiki heard the front door open and shut.Yumi quickly redirected him to a seat at the kitchen counter. Her concern seemed to be outweighing her curiosity. “Nishikiyama-kun?” She even lowered her voice. “Are you okay?” she asked again.No. The answer was “no” before ‘95, and it’s always been “no” afterward. Nishiki only flickered his eyes away. But he knew that wouldn’t perturb Yumi, if she really was the same but different.“Um, what’s going on? How did you even find us?” She let out a light laugh, but the sound didn’t put Nishiki at ease. “Did you… speak with Kazuma? Did he tell you where we live?”Something shifted within Nishiki’s chest.Sadness became anger too easily. Anger became sadness too easily. A sudden bitterness flooded over Nishiki’s tongue, tasting like bile. All from the mention of Kiryu’s name.That’s what kept him grounded: anger. Anger that this happened. Kiryu and Yumi got married. They had a kid. They had their little happily ever after while Nishiki was rotting away in prison. While Nishiki was forced to kill again, got scarred, dismembered, fuck.“What?” Nishiki snapped. “Why would I talk to Kiryu?”Yumi’s eyes widened. “N-Nishikiy—?”“Why would I talk to someone who acts like I don’t exist?” The words were pouring out. Nishiki’s voice sounded like harsh static to his own ears. Why am I here? Why did I agree to meet with Kazama when he doesn’t give a fuck about me? When he’s obviously going to use me? Why am I here? “Why the fuck would I do that?”Different.The Yumi that Nishiki knew would’ve tried to mollify him, would’ve tried to ease the tension by being reasonable or at least distracting. But now, she was frozen. Like a deer in the headlights, unable to move. The alarmed look on her face made Nishiki come crashing down quicker than he had suddenly come up.Suffice to say, he felt like shit.The silence between them. It was suffocating. If Nishiki could get up and run, he would’ve. But he felt rooted in place.Yumi sniffled. “E-Excuse me,” was all she said before she left. She went down a hallway that led deeper into the apartment.A second later, there were footsteps. Light, but Nishiki’s ears caught them. They were coming from the direction of the doorway.It was the girl, Haruka. She must have never left.“What did you do to my mom?” Haruka asked, obviously pissed but seemingly not afraid. Yeah. Maybe she didn’t look like Kiryu, but she was definitely Kiryu’s kid.Nishiki looked away. It was a shame that a kid, especially Kiryu and Yumi’s kid, had to see him like this. Seeing a grown man cry was never a good look, especially one with a reputation like his. Yakuza in one life, a dead man walking in this life.He had to bite his tongue, because he could feel the anger trying to bubble back up by the tenfold. And this kid didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t get mad at her for existing. For Kiryu and Yumi moving on without him. For the world to keep spinning.He felt so cold. He wanted to hate this little girl. The ugliest part of him was tearing him apart from the inside.The front door suddenly opened. He couldn’t catch a fucking break.A woman who looked to be around Yumi’s age, wearing a work uniform, entered. If anyone looked like a ghost, this woman did. She hesitated, standing next to Haruka, never taking her eyes off of Nishiki. Nishiki couldn’t blame her. He was scared of himself, too.“H-Haruka,” the woman said. Her voice was so soft, Nishiki almost missed it. “Who… Who is this?”“I don’t know.” Haruka took a step closer to the woman. A futile protective move, Nishiki guessed. “I think Mom knows him. They were talking about Dad, too.”Kiryu. Did Kiryu ever mention anything about Nishiki to his own kid? Nishiki doubted it. It was probably better that way, but the fact didn’t make the sting lessen.As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, Yumi returned. She wiped at her eyes when she saw the other woman standing next to Haruka. “O-Oh. I… wasn’t expecting you to be here.”The woman darted her eyes in between Yumi and Nishiki and Haruka. If Nishiki thought that Yumi looked like a deer in the headlights earlier, then this other woman was a frightened fawn who looked more than willing to throw itself headfirst into oncoming traffic.Yumi clapped her hands together. Nishiki and the other woman flinched at the sound, but Haruka moved to her mother’s side, still looking at Nishiki like he was the worst person on Earth. Shit, he was probably a good contender at this point.“I should introduce everyone.” Yumi cleared her throat. She gestured toward Nishiki. “This is Nishikiyama Akira. He’s…” When Yumi smiled, Nishiki was inclined to believe that it was genuine. Even if her daughter and assumed friend didn’t trust Nishiki at first sight. Even if her eyes, nose, lips were red from crying because of him. Even when she said, “He’s my best friend.” Nishiki didn’t deserve it. This time, sadness only felt like sadness.“Nishikiyama?” Haruka quietly repeated. Her furrowed eyebrows softened, as if she was confused.Yumi set a hand on top of Haruka’s head, smoothing the front of her hair down. “This is my daughter, Haruka.” She gestured toward the other woman. “And this is Saejima Yasuko. She’s one of my neighbors and a good friend of mine.”Wait. Saejima? Saejima Yasuko? As in, Saejima’s sister that Nishiki had long given up hope in finding?Yasuko bowed her head, though the gesture only showed reluctance. “N-Nice to meet you, Nishikiyama-san.” She definitely didn’t mean it. She still looked put off by him. Nishiki was a deep disturbance.He should ask, right? Would it make him seem less scary?Nishiki didn’t move to wipe his own tears. He wasn’t sure if it made him look vulnerable or more unappealing. (Had to be the latter.)“Are you…” Nishiki could feel everyone pause at the sound of his voice. Bated breath. “Are you Saejima Taiga’s sister?”Yasuko gasped. Yumi looked surprised, too. Haruka’s eyes went between Yasuko and Nishiki. She still looked like she was trying to figure Nishiki out.Yasuko took a cautious step closer. “Y-You… You knew my brother?” The way she said “brother.” She said it in the way that only a kid sister could. It made Nishiki miss Yuko even harder.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
8:00
It felt like watching a TV show, as Nishiki silently observed Yumi, Yasuko, and Haruka go on with their morning, preparing Haruka for school. He relocated himself to the living room – still in sight, still in mind; but out of the way – while everyone else bustled about the kitchen. It felt like Yasuko and Haruka (mostly Haruka) were still wary of him.Haruka gave one last withering look Nishiki’s way before she left for school. Hey, Nishiki couldn’t blame the kid. If someone made his mother cry, he’d beat the person to a pulp. (Granted, if he knew who his mother was.)And now, Nishiki was alone with Yumi and Yasuko. The women glanced at each other once the door closed behind Haruka.Yumi broke the silence. “Would you like some breakfast, Nishikiyama-kun?”Nishiki nodded. All he had today was a glass of whiskey, and all he had last night was a can of beer. He didn’t exactly feel hungry, though. Just restless. Like a bottomless pit.Yumi tapped her hand against the kitchen counter, which Nishiki took as an invitation to take a seat. He could feel Yasuko’s eyes boring in to him as he sat down, but he forced himself to look ahead.Yumi set down a bowl in front of him. Steaming rice with furikake sprinkled on top and an egg cracked over it. Just like she would make it if Nishiki bugged her for breakfast when they were kids. Just like she would make it if Nishiki accidentally fell asleep at her apartment and she insisted on giving him something to eat before he left. Nishiki’s hands trembled when he picked up his chopsticks and stirred the egg into the rice.Yumi leaned her hands against the counter. “We have to wait for Haruka to leave before we can have ‘adult conversations.’ She’s nosy just like you-know-who.” Did the kid get Yumi’s looks and Kiryu’s personality? What a combination. Nishiki let out a slight snort through his nose. “I’m sure that Yasuko is dying to ask how you knew her brother.” Yumi gave a nod toward Yasuko.“How… How did you know my brother?” Yasuko slowly asked.Nishiki tossed a glance her way, looking her over. She didn’t resemble Saejima at all. Saejima was all hardened and rough around the edges, while Yasuko was all rounded and soft. But she was quiet like him, even quieter. Maybe they were both the same on the inside, looking inward to the point of turning inside out. Then again, Nishiki had felt so different from Yuko in some ways, alike in others. Yuko was the smart one, the more considerate one. They were both sensitive, both thought too much, tended to agree on most things.
Saejima mentioned Yasuko at times, some offhand stories about them growing up together. Maybe she had been badly ill at one point, Nishiki didn’t quite remember. He just remembered thinking his and Saejima’s lives overlapped more than he would’ve thought.“We were both in Tokyo Pen together,” Nishiki started. “We met in ‘96 and we became friends by ‘97. I, um…” Nishiki looked at his duffel bag, waiting in the genkan. “I have some letters from him. He… wrote them before he died.” Was it really only a few days ago since Saejima’s execution? It felt like a lifetime since then.“L-Letters?” Yasuko picked up.Nishiki nodded. “One for you and one for Majima. I, uh… They’re in my bag. I just—didn’t think I’d ever find you.” This was insane. Meeting Yumi, her and Kiryu’s kid, and Saejima’s sister all at once. What a fucking coincidence. “Majima, though. I don’t know about him.” He let out a small, pitying laugh. “The only way I could think about possibly finding you was through Majima, but I couldn’t ever imagine asking him. Especially now.” Majima seemed more out of his mind than usual now, if he was going to make a habit out of blowing up buildings.“Majima-san…” Yasuko looked away.Nishiki shouldn’t have been surprised that Yasuko knew Majima. Saejima didn’t really like to talk about Majima too much, since there was an apparent deep pain encircling his thoughts of Majima. But the implication that him, Yasuko, and Majima went back a long ways was there. Damn, then Yasuko would’ve known Majima when he had two eyes, too.“Do you know what he’s doing?” Yasuko asked. There was a subtle change to her voice, something firmer.Nishiki shook his head. He never had a clue what Majima was doing, especially right now.“The Shibata Family was involved with the Ueno Seiwa Clan hit,” Yasuko filled in, voice growing stronger. Nishiki was deferred to as the quietest one in the room now. “I think—I think he’s trying to get revenge for my brother. I think he may target the Ueno Seiwa Clan next.”That would be crazy, like declaration of war levels of crazy. Maybe the Majima Family against the Shibata Family could be written off as in-fighting, but if the Majima Family targeted the Ueno Seiwa Clan – who was outside of the Tojo Clan – that was a clear sign of war.“W-We have to stop him,” Yasuko went on. And Nishiki wasn’t expecting this level of determination from her. Maybe he had misjudged her. “Please, Nishikiyama-san.” She suddenly bowed, deeply and proper. “Come with me to Kamurocho.”Nishiki held his hands up. “Whoa. What? Where’s this coming from?”Yasuko, still bowing, spoke in a rush, “Yumi-san tried to help me by calling Kiryu-san, but he will no longer answer her calls. I don’t know what else to do other than going to Kamurocho myself and finding Majima-san—but Yumi-san is worried for my safety.” Her hands tightened at her sides. “So, please. Accompany me to Kamurocho so that we can stop Majima-san before he gets himself killed.”There was a lot, a lot to unpack. And Nishiki honestly didn’t feel like unpacking it. But one thought came to mind: was this what Kazama wanted? Kazama wouldn’t have shipped him off to Yumi without good reason. And he had to know that Saejima Yasuko was Yumi’s friend and neighbor, and he must have somehow known that Nishiki was friends with Saejima while in prison. Was this how the bizarre dots connected?Nonetheless, what help was Nishiki going to offer? He was more useless than ever now. “If Majima really is planning a war, Kamurocho wouldn’t be safe for anybody—especially you and me. I’m a wanted man. So, uh… It’d be safer for all of you if we just… stayed here.” A coward’s way out, but still the safe way out.“And then what?” Yumi suddenly said. Nishiki and Yasuko quickly turned to her. “You stay safe here, and then what?”“I… I meet with Kazama-no-oyasan on Friday,” Nishiki answered. “He told me to come here.”“You meet oyasan, and then what?” Yumi pressed on.Nishiki didn’t have an answer for that.Yumi shook her head. “I still don’t want Yasuko to go to Kamurocho, especially by herself—and especially if there’s a possible war coming. But…” She sighed, a resigned sound. “Yasuko and Majima both lost Saejima. And you did, too. I think… I think you should all reconnect. Maybe that could change Majima’s mind? I don’t know.”“Eh?” Nishiki couldn’t believe that Yumi was cosigning this nonsense. “Even if we all knew Saejima, why would Majima care? Especially about me? He doesn’t give a fuck about me.” Maybe if he heard something from Kiryu, he’d change his mind. But Nishiki wasn’t going to say that out loud.“But you knew Saejima,” Yumi insisted. “You knew him during a time when Yasuko and Majima couldn’t, while he was in jail. I know you, Nishikiyama-kun. I know you’re always there for your friends. And you were always there for him, right? You were there for his last day too, weren’t you?”Nishiki looked down, could only shake his head. “The Majima Family may be on the warpath. And I’m…” He gritted his teeth. “I’m not who I used to be,” he admitted. He probably wouldn’t stand a chance against them now. He was far too broken down.“Please,” Yasuko picked up. “E-Even if you choose to go with me or not, I’m still going. But—you could be a lot of help, Nishikiyama-san.”Nishiki shook his head again. How did this woman go from being scared of him to pleading for him? “I’m not going to Kamurocho if there’s a war. And you shouldn’t, either. You could get killed.”“That’s why you should go with her,” Yumi jumped in. “I know Yasuko is going to go no matter what. Please, Nishikiyama-kun. Look after her for me. You—You could give Majima the letter, too! That’ll convince him that you knew Saejima.” Yumi’s lips tightened. “Don’t you think that’s what Saejima would’ve wanted? For you to protect his sister and reconnect her with his sworn brother? To stop his sworn brother from starting a war on his behalf?”“You… You didn’t know Saejima,” Nishiki muttered. It was the last defense he had. “You wouldn’t know what he wanted.“Yes, but I know Yasuko. She’s told me all about him. And he seems like the kind of guy who would want that, right?”
Shit.
Nishiki was always closer with women than men throughout his life, but there was one thing he hated about talking to women: they made too much damn sense. Because why the fuck was he feeling torn over a hypothetical suicide mission? He should be giving them a hard no, but his lips wouldn’t form around the word.“I…” It would be what Saejima would want, but Nishiki didn’t know if he had the strength to do it. “I’ll think about it,” he breathed out. “After I talk to oyasan.”Yasuko immediately bowed her head. “Thank you, Nishikiyama-san.”Yumi gave a weary smile. “Thank you.” She lightly tapped at the side of his bowl. “You should eat before your food gets cold.”
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
8:38
Yasuko dashed off to work, murmuring that she would be late. Now, it was just Nishiki and Yumi. He didn’t know how he was going to survive two more days of this – of Yumi and Haruka and Yasuko. It was probably going to be the most uncomfortable moment of Nishiki’s life, more uncomfortable than jail even.Yumi filled in the silence with the quiet hum of the TV, playing a drama that Nishiki didn’t recognize. After Yumi finished doing the dishes, she started setting up a futon in the living room space for him.Nishiki watched from the kitchen. He felt like he should apologize, but it felt like it was too late for apologies. There were a million things he should apologize for – for his behavior this morning, for being too late that night. But what was he supposed to say?Yumi began to fluff up some pillows. The back of her shirt, with a worn, stretched-out collar, pulled down slightly as she reached over the futon, straightening out the pillows. And Nishiki caught something: markings. Blink and you miss it, there was what Nishiki could only describe as the makings of tattoo markings on Yumi’s back. But that wouldn’t make any sense.“Nishikiyama-kun,” Yumi called out. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I can feel you staring at me.” Her words were playfully drawn out.Nishiki snorted. “You should kick me out—for making you cry and for being a perv.”“Ah, you could never make me cry. And I’ve met worse pervs than you.” Her eyes softened as she pointed toward her back. “Did you see it?”“See what?”Yumi rolled her eyes, still playful. “You know what.” She turned around again and pulled her shirt up, showing off her back.And Nishiki’s eyes weren’t mistaken. It was a full-back tattoo of Toyotama-hime, the Luminous Pearl Princess. The daughter of a sea deity, the wife of a legend, the mother of an emperor. The classic irezumi mark of a yakuza wife, even signed by Utabori. A permanent sign that Yumi’s life was once devoted to Kiryu at a certain point in time.Nishiki never would’ve thought that he would meet this version of Yumi. The sisterlike child, the girl was gone. This was the woman, the mother.It felt like both of their irezumi were created in dedication to Kiryu. Kiryu got to be the dragon, while Nishiki was the carp who dreamed of being a dragon and Yumi was the dragon princess who was betrayed by her lover. They were both thrown out to sea. They were both left drowning while the dragon still rises.
Monday, July 19, 2004
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
19:44
Haruka leapt into Kiryu’s arms. “Dad! What are you doing here?” Warmth immediately spread through Kiryu’s chest. It was always too long since the last time he saw Haruka.He ruffled her hair. “I had a meeting here. I wanted to stop by before I went home.” Looking up, he could see Yumi leaning against the living room wall, eyes downcast. Kiryu’s heart sank a little, as always. “Is… it okay with Mom if you go out with me?”“Mhm. She said I could.” Haruka waved to Yumi before she practically jumped out of the apartment. “Oh, look!” She held up her hand. “My tooth just fell out.” She widely grinned, pointing to the missing gap in her bottom row of teeth. “Can you throw it for me, Dad?”Kiryu took the tooth into his hand like it was a precious gem. His large palm dwarfed the already tiny tooth. It only reminded him of how small Haruka was, and how much he was missing out.On that thought, he tightened his fist around the tooth, ready to hurl it down with all his might. But Haruka tugged at his sleeve, stopping him. “Dad, it’s a bottom tooth,” she reminded him. “You have to throw it on the roof.” She pointed up for emphasis.“Oh. Yeah.”When they went downstairs and looked back up at the apartment building, Kiryu threw the tooth as if he was chucking a baseball. He was sure that it probably went over the roof. Probably even landed in a nearby tree somewhere. Haruka seemed impressed enough, though. That’s all that mattered.Haruka talked about what she wanted to do for summer break, which started today, as they walked through the neighborhood. She interrupted her own self-proposed plan to ask for ice cream since it was so hot, which Kiryu was more than happy to buy. They sat on a low-sitting wall as they ate their ice cream. Strawberry mochi for Haruka, plain vanilla for Kiryu.Haruka ended up asking Kiryu about how his meeting went. Kiryu honestly answered that he didn’t know. He wasn’t really paying attention. But he did have a new business card.“Can you show me?” Haruka asked.Kiryu, never one to cut corners, presented his business card to her with a well-practiced flourish. Who knew that one of the lessons from ‘88 that he would always carry with him was how to properly present a business card – especially right side up.Haruka gave a nod of approval. She looked over Kiryu’s card after she took it. “What’s this word?” she asked, pointing to the name of Kiryu’s business.“‘Iron Trust,’” Kiryu read for her.“Ooh. I think that’s a third-grade word.” She pointed to the character for “iron.” “What does it mean?”“It’s… a metal. I think.” What was iron, really? Kiryu never thought about it before.“I mean, what does ‘Iron Trust’ mean?”“Oh.” Now that was a question Kiryu could answer. He pointed to the character for “iron” again – “tetsu.” “This was the name of one of my friends, Tachibana Tetsu. He taught me about real estate, and he helped me a lot when I needed it. I wanted to name my business after him to… to thank him, I guess.”“You have friends?”Kiryu pointed at Haruka’s nose. “Hey, I do have friends.” To which Haruka laughed at. Well, more like Kiryu did have friends. But he wanted to keep the mood light. “Do you remember Reina? She’s my friend.”“Yeah!” Haruka quickly nodded. Kiryu was surprised that Haruka remembered her. She only knew Reina at a very young age. “She was really nice. And really pretty! And she always smelled really good, like candy. And she would give me candy, too.” Kiryu huffed. No wonder Haruka remembered her.“Do you remember… Shinji?”Haruka thought about it, took a bite of her ice cream. She eventually shook her head. “No. Who’s that?”“Hm.” Kiryu didn’t expect her to remember Shinji, anyway. It was practically a miracle that she even remembered Reina. “He was one of my friends, too.”“Did you ever have a best friend?”Kiryu set his half-eaten ice cream aside. It would probably melt, but that was fine. He hummed. “I did. Once. His sister named you, too.”“Really?” Kiryu nodded. “What’s your best friend’s name?”Kiryu let a beat pass as he thought about it. Before he decided that there shouldn’t be any harm in saying, “Nishikiyama. I called him ‘Nishiki.’”“Nishikiyama,” Haruka repeated back. It was a name on the wordier side for her, lots of syllables, but she got through it. “That’s a cool name,” she decided.“It is,” Kiryu agreed.“Can I meet him?”“Hm… Maybe one day.” Kiryu looked off into the distance. There was a park nearby, where kids were reaping the benefits of summer break already, playing to their hearts’ content. “I think he’d like you, Haruka.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Gourmet Bay
9:17
After Yumi redid her cried-off makeup, she dragged Nishiki out of the apartment by the arm, saying that she needed to go grocery shopping since all she had in the pantry was a packet of soba and crumbs. So, Nishiki was pulled headfirst into a day of the life of Yumi. For better or worse. (For the better, of course.)Nishiki lingered behind as Yumi’s awkward shadow as he pushed the shopping cart behind her and she hummed to herself, comparing this or that item to one another, and placed things in the cart. Nishiki’s throat itched. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. Felt better if he just kept his mouth shut, anyway. He hadn’t said anything good yet.There was a pinching feeling at the tips of Nishiki’s ears, immediately pulling him out of his down-falling thoughts. He caught Yumi’s small smile before she moved her hands away. “Your ears still stick out of your hair, Nishikiyama-kun.”“…Eh?” Nishiki touched his own ears as if they were a foreign object. “So?”“It makes you look like a kid.” Yumi’s smile widened. “I always thought it was cute.”Nishiki’s heart squeezed. Yumi’s words, her smile – he didn’t deserve it. He tightened his hands on the handle of the shopping cart, until he could feel the hard plastic dig into the old and new scars on his palms. It was like acid was burning in the center of his throat.And it was like Yumi could tell, from the way her smile slightly faltered. “Nishikiyama-kun?” she asked. There went Nishiki ruining the mood again, as always.“Sorry,” he found himself choking out without thinking.Maybe the Yumi before would’ve quickly shaken her head, said that there was nothing to apologize over even if there was. But this Yumi, the one that Nishiki no longer knew, didn’t look away from him. “What are you sorry for?” she asked.The answers were endless.Nishiki decided to say, “This morning,” because that was the easiest answer.“Ah…” Yumi’s eyes lowered. That could’ve meant anything.The grocery store was fairly empty since it was still early in the morning. A few assumed housewives walked by them here and there. Yumi politely smiled to a couple passersby before she fully turned back to Nishiki.“It… hurt.” Her voice was steady, sure. “What you said made me upset—but when I thought about it, I think… it’s okay to be emotional. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” Her eyes softened. “You’ve been through a lot, and I’ve been through a lot, too. It’s… hard. I mean, it’s been ten years! Seeing each other again is going to bring up a lot of feelings—good and bad. I can understand that. We just have to get to know each other again.” She shook her head. “Just don’t yell at me again, alright? I’m not the person you should be angry with.” She held up a finger toward Nishiki’s nose, obviously fighting back a smile. “You only get one strike. Got it?”Nishiki snorted. “Got it.” But there still felt like there was an unmovable weight on his shoulders.I can’t tell who you are anymore, he thought. The way she smiled, the way she playfully peppered her words – that was still the same. But there was a stronger sense of maturity to Yumi. Yumi and Yuko were always the “mature” ones out of the four of them. Kiryu and Nishiki were the ones who had a lot of growing up to do. Shit. Nishiki still felt like he had more growing up to do.
“We just have to get to know each other again.”
Maybe they did. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.She placed her hand over his. A cold feeling suddenly registered against Nishiki’s hand; one he was too caught up in reuniting with Yumi to notice before. He looked down. Yumi was wearing Kiryu’s ring. The ring that Kiryu had given her on her birthday in 1995, the year when everything went to shit.Nishiki’s eyes flickered up. Yumi was wearing his necklace, too. Why hadn’t he noticed until now?
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
10:58
Despite Yumi’s protests, Nishiki carried all of the groceries back to her apartment.As Yumi put away the food, insisting that she didn’t need help (“You don’t know where anything goes, Nishikiyama-kun. You’ll just get in the way!”), he considered going out to the balcony to smoke – because damn, when’s the last time he’s had a cigarette or three? But when he reached into his pocket, he remembered that his cigarettes had been stolen after he was stripped down by the Dojimas and Daigo’s boys.He wondered if Daigo’s boys threw his clothes away, and therefore threw his cigarettes away, or if they pilfered them for themselves. Probably cackled to themselves as they smoked away “the Kin Slayer’s” pack in every sense of the meaning. Nishiki wondered again how Daigo even got boys in the first place if he was out of the Tojo Clan. He wondered if it was even worth wondering about in the first place – and decided it wasn’t, and turned on the TV instead.He watched the tail end of an episode of a random drama, which seemed to be about a girl with an illness that left her too weak to leave her bed. It couldn’t be helped that Yuko flashed before his eyes; he should’ve changed the channel, but morbid curiosity always won in the end.When a commercial cut on, Yumi let out an obviously long, obviously loud sigh from the kitchen, catching his attention. She was leaning against the kitchen counter. “I don’t feel like cooking,” she announced. “How about we go out for lunch? It’ll be my treat.”Nishiki turned off the TV and moved to his feet. “I can pay.”“You’re my guest, Nishikiyama-kun. Let me treat you.” Memories of fighting over the bill with Yumi and Kiryu inevitably flooded Nishiki’s mind. Sometimes it was a battle of courtesy, sometimes it was a battle of who happened to be the least broke that night. “Is there anything you’re craving?”“No. You?”“Hm…” Yumi tapped her finger against her chin. “How about Tanpura?”“Tempura?” Wasn’t Chiba known for seafood? Sounded fitting. The only worthwhile meal that Nishiki had thus far was the curry Reina cooked for him. Which was technically yesterday, right? (The days were blurring together. The lack of decent sleep wasn’t helping.) “Sounds good.”“No, not tempura.” Yumi let out a small laugh. She went into the motions of gathering her coat and purse. “Tanpura. It’s an Indian restaurant here.” She handed him his coat before putting on her shoes. “It’s pretty popular, so it’s usually booked over the weekends and during dinnertime. Hopefully, it won’t be too busy right now. And, um…” She suddenly cleared her throat.“Yeah?” Nishiki pushed the door open for her. She thanked him before walking out first. He doublechecked that the door was locked behind them.“We should talk.” She lightly laid a hand on his shoulder. Nishiki couldn’t help but slightly flinch at the touch, to which Yumi frowned at. Not a look of disapproval. Not a look of pity. But a look of empathy. She didn’t let her touch linger for long. “Okay?”No. Not okay. Nishiki didn’t want to talk about anything. Was it a childish thought? Most definitely. But if he could have a middle name, it would be “avoidance.” He wasn’t being true to himself if he wasn’t running in place.Yumi gently put a hand on Nishiki’s cheek, and the rapid wandering of his eyes immediately stopped. “We need to talk,” she reiterated. “The sooner we do it, the sooner we’ll get it over with. We need to get everything out before we can move forward and plan ahead.”Nishiki sighed. There went Yumi making too much sense again. He nodded, very begrudgingly. At least the gesture made Yumi smile.The door beside them opened, revealing an older woman with a toy poodle on a leash. Yumi quickly dropped her hands from Nishiki and gave a slight bow toward the woman. “Good afternoon, Yamaguchi-san.” She reached down toward the dog, which went to excitedly sniff and lick at her hand. “Hi, Choco-chan,” she cooed. “Choco” was a fitting name, since the dog had a chocolate brown coat.The woman, Yamaguchi, wasn’t looking at Yumi, though. Her eyes were glued on Nishiki. Nishiki gave a slight nod, could feel his palms begin to sweat. “Good afternoon, Yumi-chan. Who’s the handsome young fellow you got there? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a man before.” Ah, the typical prying tone of old women: cut to the chase but wrap it in artificial sugar.Yumi nonchalantly scratched behind Choco’s ears before she stood up straight. “This is my brother, Nishikiyama Akira. We were adopted by the same family.” Her tone was polite yet unyielding. Nishiki assumed that Yamaguchi was the prying type and Yumi was trying to keep her personal distance. “He’s visiting us for the weekend.” She gestured toward Yamaguchi. “Nishikiyama-kun, this is my neighbor, Yamaguchi Setsuko-san.” Nishiki bowed his head again. Meeting old women always felt similar to meeting a respected family patriarch in a weird way.“Ah, I see.” Yamaguchi looked incredulous, but at least she was turning to walk away. “Well, let me not take up too much of your time! You two have a nice afternoon—Yumi-chan, Akira-kun.” She gave them both a final nod and lightly tugged at her dog’s leash. Choco blinked up at Nishiki before scampering after its fleeing owner.“We’re adopted by the same family?” Nishiki murmured. Were they technically adopted by Kazama? Nishiki never really thought about it before, honestly.“Of course not.” Yumi laughed. “Or else Kazuma and I wouldn’t have been able to get married.”Oh. Weird, but made sense.Yumi led Nishiki downstairs, outside of the apartment building. “You’re probably going to be the highlight of Yamaguchi-san’s week, you know.” She bumped shoulders with him.“Eh? Why?”“Because she’s so nosy. She’s probably gossiping about us right now.” Yumi (poorly) attempted at an “old lady voice” as she said, “Yumi-chan has a boyfriend! I swear, I swear! Anyone who betted on her and Yasuko-chan being together, pay up—you lost the bet!”Okay, that shocked a good laugh out of Nishiki. Yumi looked more than pleased with herself.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Tanpura
12:00
Yumi ordered them both tandoori lunch sets – which came with tandoori chicken, curry, and naan seasoned with Okinawan sea salt – which she said was Tanpura’s famed lunch special. Nishiki took in the warm and spicy scent of masala as much as he could, because he knew this was about to be a dreadful meal and it wasn’t the food’s fault. That was the over-lingering responsibility of the past’s fault.“Let’s talk,” Nishiki muttered around a mouthful of chicken. And the chicken was pretty damn good. Didn’t deserve to be ruined with a shitty conversation. But so be it.“Don’t pout. We’ll both feel better after this, I promise.” Nishiki totally did not pout as he took a bite of his bread. “Where should we start? Hm…” Yumi tapped her fingers against the table for a moment before she decided on, “Based off your reaction this morning, I’m going to assume that you asked Kazama-san about me, not Kazuma. And… you didn’t seem surprised about Haruka. So, oyasan must have told you everything that happened with me and Kazuma, hm?”“No, I haven’t talked to Kazama-no-oyasan or Kiryu yet. Oyasan arranged for me to meet him here through one of his business associates. And Reina told me about you and Kiryu, and… Haruka.”Yumi’s face lit up. “You talked to Reina? How’s she doing?”“Good, I think.” Nishiki shrugged. “She still seems the same to me.”“Hm, what a guy answer.” Yumi playfully rolled her eyes. “Kazuma always says that same thing whenever I ask him about her.” She gave a small smile. “I miss her so much. I can’t believe it’s been four years since the last time I talked to her.”“Why can’t you talk to her?” Nishiki took a sip of his drink. Yumi ordered it for him, too. It was masala chai, some sort of black tea blended with Indian spices, but it didn’t taste like anything special to Nishiki. Then again, that was probably because he was still craving cheap beer.“I just… can’t.” Yumi sighed, long and sorrowful. “I’m… I’m ‘dead’ to Kamurocho, I guess. I don’t know how else to say it, but… I just don’t exist there anymore—to anyone or anything.”“Huh? What do you mean?” Nishiki didn’t like Yumi’s lowered tone.“When Kazuma and I got a divorce, it wasn’t just a divorce. He completely erased us, me and Haruka. He wiped us clean, as if we never existed.”Nishiki thought back to what Reina had tried to explain before he cut her off. She mentioned that Yumi and Haruka moved away from Kamurocho four years ago to an unknown location, and that Kiryu used to have his own family and he attracted a lot of “upset people,” apparently – which is why Reina thought that Kiryu, Yumi, and Haruka separated due to concerns over their safety.“Reina told me that people would threaten and attack you guys,” Nishiki admitted.Yumi nodded, shoulders slacked. “He told me it would be safer for me and Haruka if we left him, and then me and Haruka were moved to Chiba the next day. And…” She shook her head to herself. “You can’t get a divorce in one day, you know? He made some sort of arrangement where he could instantly divorce me and I could get sole custody of Haruka. C-Can you imagine just erasing your own child from your family register as if she never existed in the first place? I…” The pain in her voice was palpable. She rapidly blinked a few times before she fully looked back at Nishiki.If Yumi was still so hurt after all these years, that could only mean one thing. And because Nishiki liked to sink the knife in deeper into his own gut, he asked, “You… still love him, don’t you?”“Huh?” Yumi’s eyes widened.“Kiryu. You still love him.” It was obvious to Nishiki’s ears. The words came spilling out, “If he wanted you two to get back together, would you do it?” He could feel the bittersweet aftertaste on his tongue, it made his voice tremble.“I…” Yumi sadly smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe? Even though I know I shouldn’t.” She still loves him. Nishiki didn’t know why, but something squeezed within him. “But I realized something while we were married, we… didn’t see each other the same way.”Nishiki blinked. “What do you mean?”“I realized that Kazuma only loved me as a friend. He… never saw me as…” Yumi shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess we loved each other in different ways. I don’t want to say that he didn’t care about me—because he did. I don’t want to say that his love was ‘surface level’ or didn’t ‘run deep,’ either. I don’t want to discredit whatever he did feel for me. I guess he felt… obligated to me because I was his wife and the mother of his child, not because he wanted me to be his wife and the mother of his child.”“Don’t… Don’t say that, Yumi.”She let out a slow breath. “I don’t know how else to put it.” Her lips tightened. “Why did you get so upset when I asked you about Kazuma this morning?”It would be easier for Nishiki to bite his tongue off than answer that. He almost choked on his spit. “I-I don’t know.” Felt like a lie.Yumi raised an eyebrow. “Nishikiyama-kun?”Fine. Nishiki took a sip of his drink. They were supposed to be letting it all out, right? “I’m pissed and I don’t know why.” Still felt like a lie, but better.“At Kazuma?”“I… don’t know. I guess.”“Okay.” Yumi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, obviously thinking overtime for an explanation that Nishiki didn’t know and couldn’t give. “Do you feel mad at Kazuma because you went to jail? And… while you were in jail, you felt like you got left behind from all of us?”Nishiki shrugged. Admitting it aloud would make it worse. Fuck, he wished he had a cigarette. His fingers twitched against the tabletop.A beat passed. When Nishiki didn’t speak, Yumi went on, “I can’t say that I can completely understand how you feel, Nishikiyama-kun. I can’t imagine going to jail for a decade, and I can’t imagine how that has affected your mind and your wellbeing—”“Yumi,” Nishiki snorted. “You sound like a therapist.”“Hey, let me finish what I was going to say!” She lightly swatted at his hand. His fingers stopped twitching. “But I’m assuming that you were close to Saejima while you were in jail, and that must’ve helped you a lot?”“Yeah.” Saejima did more than just help Nishiki. He saved him. “It did.”If Saejima hadn’t been there, then Nishiki would be dead. There was no cutting corners around it. Sometimes it felt like if Nishiki didn’t attach himself to someone else, if he was left by himself for too long, then he fell further and further into some sort of never-ending blackhole that opened up from the bottom of his mind and exited out from the center of his chest.It didn’t feel like it sank in quite yet, that Saejima was dead. It didn’t feel like it sank in that Nishiki was out of prison and face-to-face with Yumi again, either. How was it that Nishiki made it on the other side? How was it that Saejima’s spirit would be stuck in prison forever?“Nishikiyama-kun?” Yumi gently laid her hand over his. “What are you thinking about?”“Saejima. I… can’t believe he’s gone.”“I’m sorry.”Nishiki shook his head. “I can’t believe I met his sister, either. And I can’t believe that Kazama-no-oyasan probably planted me here on purpose to meet her.”A half-smile crossed Yumi’s lips. “Do you really think oyasan has some sort of mastermind plan to use you and Yasuko to stop Majima from starting a gang war on behalf of his executed oath brother?”Nishiki couldn’t help but laugh, a tired, borderline delirious laugh. “When you put it that way, it sounds crazy.”“Crazy is right up oyasan’s alley.” Yumi laughed, too. “So, he’s going to visit here and talk to you on Friday?” Nishiki nodded. “What are you planning on doing after that?”“I don’t know.” That was honest.“You said you wanted to talk to oyasan before deciding if you want to accompany Yasuko to Kamurocho. But—let’s forget about that for a second. What do you want to do here? And what do you want to do afterward? Like, are you planning on staying in Kamurocho?”Nishiki’s cigarette craving inched back in. Yeah, he definitely needed to buy a pack or twenty after this. He tried to stave off the sensation by stuffing some rice and curry into his mouth. It had grown lukewarm. “You’re really laying it on thick, Yumi.”“Sorry.”“No, you’re not.”“Hm, maybe just a little bit.”“Whatever.” Nishiki took a bite of his chicken. It was still good even when it wasn’t hot. He could see why this restaurant was such a big deal. “Here, I want to talk to oyasan. After, who knows.” He shoveled more food into his mouth, shrugged. “The only job I’ve ever had was in the clan, and now I can’t go back. I’m banished from the only thing I know.” How fucking pitiful. “All my life, I dreamed of moving up in the ranks—” with Kiryu. “—but I lost everything instead. I worked my ass off for years and got nothing.” He let out a self-pitying laugh that even sounded harsh to his own ears. “I got burned and tossed out like garbage. What good is a pile of trash like me to anyone?”“Nishikiyama-kun, don’t say that about yourself.”Nishiki finished off his chicken. “What else am I supposed to say?”“An answer to my question: are you planning on staying in Kamurocho or not?”“I don’t know.” Nishiki dragged his spoon through his curry, letting the cinnamon sticks and bay leaves bump into each other. He probably should’ve eaten it together with the chicken and the rice instead of eating everything separately.“Okay, that’s fine. Are you planning on talking to Kazuma?”“I…” Nishiki set his spoon down. “Eventually,” he muttered. He shoved his mouth full of bread with a huff. Yeah, he should’ve ate everything altogether.“Hm. Alright.”Silence blanketed over them. Not a completely uncomfortable one, but Nishiki’s leg started bouncing here and there.They both finished off their respective plates and bowls of food. Nishiki asked their waiter for any alcoholic drink they had instead of a refill of masala chai. They were then handed two pint glasses and a bottle of Kingfisher beer. Yumi only asked for a little bit, while Nishiki gave himself a generous cupful.Yumi held up her glass. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”“Eh? I didn’t even wanna talk in the first place.” Nishiki clinked their glasses together.“Ah, Nishikiyama-kun. I was hoping that jail would make you a little nicer, but I guess not.” Yumi laughed to herself as she drank.The beer was sweet, bitter, did its job at the bare minimum but didn’t completely satisfy Nishiki. Then again, nothing ever really could.When Nishiki set his glass down, he figured it was time to bite the bullet: “Yuko,” he whispered.“Hm?” She must’ve not heard him.“Tell me… about Yuko.”“Oh…” Sadness immediately overtook Yumi’s being. “I’m so sorry, Nishikiyama-kun. I wish we could’ve done more for her, but—but she was just… it all happened so fast. One day, she told us that she thought she was going to die. And then we were told that she needed a heart transplant, but—I guess it was too late. She died maybe two or three days later before we could even do anything.” Tears filled Yumi’s eyes. “Her doctor disappeared, too.”“W-What? What do you mean he disappeared?”“I don’t know. Kazuma looked into it, and he told me that her doctor was in debt to the yakuza and involved with black market organ trading, too.”Red hot anger flashed through Nishiki’s chest. “What the fuck?”Yumi nodded. “I-I don’t know. I can only think that he was involved in some sort of shady business and it caught up to him, and he got his patients tangled up in it, too. Maybe he was trying to drag us into it through Yuko. But that’s only my theory. Oh, Yuko…” Her tears began to fall. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—I can’t believe she’s gone. It felt like we didn’t even get a chance to help her or anything. She was just… gone.”Nishiki closed his eyes, twisted the knife. “What happened before she died? What was she like?”“She…” Yumi sniffled. “They called us at about two a.m. in the morning, and Kazuma and I rushed to the hospital as fast as we could. I think they tried to do some sort of emergency surgery on her, but it—it wasn’t enough. She told us she wanted the last thing she saw to be flowers, so Kazuma carried her to the garden.” To sleep among the flowers, to be in a dream, to be where there is no loss. “And—And she died in his arms. She looked like she was sleeping. She looked…”Nishiki could feel his own tears falling, but he kept his eyes closed, chased after the image that Yumi was painting for him. “Did she look the same? Did she ever look older?”“N-No. She always looked the same. She maybe looked younger, actually.”“W-What color were the flowers?”“White. They were gardenias, I think.”“Did she say anything?”“No. She just closed her eyes, and… that was it. Like she was going to sleep.”Nishiki could see it, if he squeezed his eyes shut even harder, if he dug his nails into his palms. Maybe Yumi was sparing him the details, but Yuko probably lost more weight over time, probably looked more and more fragile – probably didn’t look like a young woman at all, but still like a girl, like she was permanently caught in an in-between state. Maybe her hair was longer and her cheeks got more of a hollowed look to them. Maybe she looked like a floating reed, like a dandelion seed, like a ghost of the rain.He could see it. He could see it. Sometimes gardenias would grow in the orphanage’s garden in the summertime, and he could still remember what they smelled like – smoke and vanilla, sweet and rich, green and grounded. Yuko died in the summertime. She was never able to wash away the smell of sanitary sickness from herself once she was permanently a long-term care patient. He could feel her scent. He could feel a warmth against his chest, as if she was laying her head against him, as if she was in his arms. He could see it.“Yuko,” he gasped out. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to lose her.“I-I’m so sorry.”“No. Don’t apologize.” Apologies wouldn’t bring her back. Apologies wouldn’t change the fact that Nishiki wasn’t there.He didn’t know how much time passed until he opened his eyes, until his last tear fell. Yumi handed him a napkin. When Nishiki didn’t take it, she reached across the table and wiped at his face herself. “Nishikiyama-kun,” she murmured, voice still watery. “I don’t know what else to say. You’ve been through so much.” She lightly traced her fingertip across one of his scars. When she pulled back, she laid her hand over his again, just barely touching at the stub of his little finger.“N-No. Nothing compares to what you’ve been through. I’m sorry.” Nishiki bowed his head, knocking his forehead against the table. If they weren’t in public, he would’ve gotten down on his hands and knees. “I’m sorry I was too late that night,” he choked out. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you in time.” I’m sorry I didn’t help anyone in time.“Don’t say that. It’s not your fault.” Yumi tugged at his hand, urging him to sit up, but Nishiki refused to move. “How were you supposed to know—?”“I did,” Nishiki cried out. “I knew. I knew what kind of person Dojima was and I never stopped him. I-I—” His voice nearly gave out. “I always knew. And I didn’t stop him until—it was too late.”Yumi was silent for a long time. If she walked away, told Nishiki never to come back, he would’ve understood.But she stayed. She squeezed her hand over his and her voice was quiet as she said, “It’s… not that simple. I wish it was, though. There would be no evil if people could stop other people from abusing their power so easily—but that’s not reality.” Nishiki choked back a sob. “Reality is cruel, isn’t it?” It is. “I always thought it was unfair that you were the one who was punished. But the one who deserves to be punished, Dojima, he’s dead. There’s no one to answer for his crimes—and they made it be you. You didn’t deserve that. And…” She let out a humorless laugh. “I’m angry. It makes me so angry when I think about it. But there’s no one to be angry at. It’s… almost like it’s a pointless feeling, when it shouldn’t be.” Nishiki understood the feeling all too well.Still, he felt cold all over. His lips felt numb. “Are you saying I shouldn’t have killed him?”“I’m saying that it isn’t so black and white. Even if you killed him years ago, even if someone else did, the damage had already been done. Whoever was first hurt by him, there was no going back. One person was already too many.”Nishiki slowly picked his head up. Yumi was already looking at him.“You know what I was told once? That victims have no stories. Only the heroes and villains do. Victims are defined by their circumstances, by the one moment in time when the power was taken from them. No one cares about the before and after. No one cares about what it takes to regain that power back. No one cares that the story continues, and it never stops.”Nishiki could only look down.“I don’t want Dojima to be a part of my life, but he is. I wish I could forget him, but I can’t. And I’ve had to learn how to live with that and move forward. It took a lot of time, a lot of help, a lot of therapy. I’m still learning. Yes, our situations don’t equate to each other at all. There’s no comparison. Just…” Yumi laid both of her hands over his. “Don’t give up, Nishikiyama-kun. Being angry, being sad, and being stuck won’t get you anywhere. I can’t tell you what to do, but I don’t want you to run away, either. I want you to talk to Kazuma. I think it would help you a lot. And if it helps, go back to Kamurocho. If it doesn’t, don’t ever go back to Kamurocho again. If you want to keep living your life, you have to accept the suffering that comes with it—and face it head on.” Yumi reached over and dried his tears again, this time with her thumb. “How does that sound?”It sounded painful. It sounded like a long journey was ahead of him. It sounded impossible. “It sounds like you got way too smart to deal with someone like me.”Yumi smiled, and it was warm. “I had to learn how to keep up with you, Yuko, and Kazuma somehow.”
Saturday, July 23, 1983
Fuchu
Fuchu Hospital
17:43
All Yuko had to do was reach her hand out and Nishiki wordlessly laid down next to her, pulled her to his side. He wasn’t sure if her bed was too large or if she was too small. He liked to think the former to make himself feel better.“What’s wrong?” Nishiki asked.“Hm…” Yuko huffed. Her nose was poking into Nishiki’s chest, but he didn’t complain. “I feel like I’m missing out.”“On what?”“Everything,” she sighed. “I wish I could be, I don’t know—a normal girl, I guess.”“Huh? You are a normal girl.”“No, I’m not. Or, I can’t do ‘normal girl’ things. Like, I wish I could go to concerts or go to afterschool clubs or go out to the movie theater. Stuff like that.”“What?” What spurred this on? “You can do whatever you want.”“I don’t have any friends,” Yuko muttered.“You do. Like, everyone at home is your friend.” Yuko shook her head against Nishiki. “What? Isn’t Yumi your friend? Kiryu too?”“But it’s not the same.” Yuko sighed again, an obviously frustrated sound. “They’re not ‘normal’ friends. Not people I can see at school every day—because I don’t go to school.”“Yuko.” Nishiki leaned back. Yuko was frowning, but looked him in the eye. “What happened? What the hell are you talking about?” Something had to make her upset for her to suddenly talk like this. There were times when Yuko was frustrated, times when she even lashed out – which was understandable. Nishiki would be pretty pissed off if he was in her place: sick all the time, locked away all the time.“I don’t know. I realized that there’s so many things I haven’t done and can’t do anymore. Like, I’ve never even had a crush before because I’m barely around any boys!”“Eh? Boys?!” Nishiki ruffled at Yuko’s hair which she squealed at. “Who cares about boys! Just focus on school and being smart or whatever. One of us has to graduate, and it’s probably not gonna be me.”“Don’t say that,” Yuko murmured. She leaned away from him and flopped on her back. She looked tired already. “What about you?”“What about what?”“Do you have a crush on anybody?”“Shut up,” Nishiki muttered. He moved to lay on his back, too. He trained his eyes on the ceiling like Yuko. “What kinda question is that?”“It’s just something that you get to do and I don’t.”“You don’t ‘do’ crushes. Well…” Nishiki had to snicker at himself. “Not all the time.”“Ugh… You’re so gross. Just tell me if you do or not.”“What makes you think I do?”“The fact that you’re avoiding the question.”“Fine, fine.” Nishiki thought about it for a second. He could say that he didn’t, but he wasn’t sure if that would be a lie or not. He could say that he did, but that kind of felt like a lie, too. He decided to just give Yuko his go-to answer: “It’s Yumi. Don’t tell her, okay?”He picked Yumi because it made sense. It was a normal answer. Yumi was cute and nice and they hung out all the time, so. Why not? That’s how it worked, right? You just picked someone and say that you liked them to get people off your back about it. At least, that’s how it worked for Nishiki.Plus, Yuko should like Yumi being the answer. They were all friends – Nishiki, Yuko, Kiryu, and Yumi – and Yuko was the one who brought Yumi to them, that started their little friend group. They were all supposed to be connected to each other in the end.The bed shifted and Yuko turned to him on her side, she raised her eyebrow and said, “Yumi? Really?”Nishiki didn’t know why, but he felt snappy all of a sudden. “Yeah. What, should it be someone else?”“Hm… I guess not. But she likes Kazuma.”Nishiki pinched Yuko’s nose. “Don’t go telling her business like that, Yuko.”She batted his hand away. “Doesn’t everyone know that, though?”“Ugh, I guess.” A thought popped into Nishiki’s mind. “What about Kiryu? Does he like her?”“I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell other people’s business?”“Kiryu’s business is my business!”Yuko rolled her eyes. “Kazuma is never going to like you back with that attitude.”“W-What?!”If Yuko could jump out of the bed, she surely would’ve. She had to settle with snapping her fingers in Nishiki’s face instead. “Ha! So, you do like Kazuma!”“W-What, no? Why the hell would I like him? He’s a guy—and he’s weird.”“So? You two are together all the time and obsessed with each other. And why would you care who he likes?”Nishiki wanted to rip his hair out. “Shut up, shut up. I don’t like Kiryu. Got it? That’s stupid.”“I don’t think it’s stupid.” Yuko laid on her back again, hands folded over her stomach like it was something to be proud about. “I think it makes a lot of sense, actually.”
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
15:21
“But she’s scared of me,” Nishiki muttered.“She’s not scared of you. You’re not scary.” Yumi tried to pinch at Nishiki’s ears but he dodged her hands. “Haruka is just upset about what happened this morning, too. But she’s curious about you.”Sounded like a lie. “When’d she tell you that?”“While I was getting her ready for school. Well, I’m assuming about the curious thing. She kept asking who you were when we were out of the kitchen.”Nishiki sighed. “Yumi…”“Well, like it or not, this is where Haruka lives. She should be coming home soon. You’re going to see her regardless. You might as well talk with her and get to know each other. I think you two having dinner together would be nice.”Nishiki groaned. “Yumi…”“I have to go to work at five. If you don’t want to, tell me beforehand. I’ll take Haruka to work with me.”“Where do you work?” Nishiki was surprised that Yumi hadn’t told him yet.“Oh, I run a bar.”“Like, a snack bar or something? Is it called Snack Yumi?” It did have a nice ring to it.“No, it’s called Athena. And it’s more like an izakaya kind of thing. I own the place but I have different bartenders throughout the day and night. I’m going in for tonight.”“At five o’clock? Not ten?”“I’m the owner, I got to show up early! Plus, that’s when people start to get off work.”“And you take your daughter to the bar?”“No! She stays with Yasuko if I have to go in at night, but if Yasuko is busy, then I’ll put Haruka in the backroom.”Nishiki crossed his arms. “You’re really following in Reina’s footsteps, huh?”“Well, I’m too old to be a hostess. This is the next best thing.” Yumi moved to walk away, likely to her room. “Tell me what you decide to do, because one of us needs to watch over Haruka.”“You’re just using me as a free babysitter,” Nishiki muttered, and Yumi must’ve heard him because her laugh echoed down the hallway.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Takara Street
15:37
Nishiki bought enough cigarettes and beer to fill up two bags. He leaned against the nearest wall and lit up a cigarette with his newly purchased lighter. The slight burn in his lungs, the feeling traveling through his nose, it was a momentary comfort.He managed to speed through two cigarettes before he saw a group of schoolkids approaching. Yeah, not the best idea to smoke in front of children, not when their lungs still had a chance.One of the kids said, “O-Oh,” before Nishiki fully turned away. He didn’t know why, but his ears perked up. The voice sounded familiar and it broke out from the casual, contained conversation that the kids seemed to be having.Nishiki glanced back, he got his answer: it was Haruka.Haruka had three other kids with her, two girls and one boy. She was turning her head at Nishiki with a look of surprise on her face, maybe a tiny bit of resentment if Nishiki was searching for it. He only slightly nodded at her, blew some smoke in the opposite direction. Surely, she wouldn’t want to talk to him in front of her friends. One thing that never got old from generation to generation is that adults are lame to kids, especially ones that make their moms cry.But Haruka stopped in front of him, as if her movement was unintentional. Nishiki held up their little staring contest. Whatever Haruka wanted. Her friends nearly bumped into her, asked her what was wrong, noticed she was looking at Nishiki.“Who’s that man?” One of her friends, a taller girl with pigtails, whisper-asked.“Do you know him, Haruka-chan?” The other girl asked, the shortest one of the bunch. “He looks… scary.”“Why’s he staring at you?” The boy of the group asked. “Is he some kind of pervert or something? Should we call the cops?”“No,” Haruka finally said. She blinked first, losing the staring game. “Sorry, that’s my Uncle Akira. He’s visiting us. I didn’t think I’d see him here.” She put on a smile and waved at him before huddling her friends away. “I’ll see you later, ojisan!”Nishiki was nearly too shocked to wave back, because “Uncle Akira” kept repeating in his mind. Fucking surreal. He snorted to himself as he stamped out his cigarette. The kid was quick on her feet, he’d give her that.
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
16:31
Haruka made it home before Nishiki because he had wandered around town a bit, smoking more, before he decided to get over himself and walk back to Yumi’s apartment. Haruka told Yumi she was fine staying at home with Nishiki while Yumi went to work, and had been sitting crisscrossed on the couch in the living room doing her homework the entire time, with the TV playing an anime that Nishiki didn’t recognize. Whenever he glanced at the screen, it seemed to be about girls going to a fashion school or something.Nishiki never felt so awkward in his life. He couldn’t believe that a little girl who couldn’t be more than ten years old was making him feel this way, too. He paced around the house a few times, circled back around from the kitchen. He went out to the balcony a couple times, smoked some more. He went up and down the hallway and took a quick peek at the bedrooms.Yumi’s room was clean, pretty ordinary looking. Nishiki tried to remember Yumi’s old apartments, the studio room shitholes that they could barely afford in the early ‘90s. He remembered that Yumi would hang up pictures all over the walls. Now, there weren’t any pictures anywhere – not even in the rest of the apartment. Weird. Nishiki wondered why.Haruka’s room looked like any girl’s room. It was mostly tidy, mostly pink, with a few posters of idols on the walls – ranging from solo girls to boy groups – that Nishiki didn’t recognize. She had a shelf filled to the brim with CDs and a CD player on her desk. If Nishiki hadn’t missed out on ten years of new music, maybe they could’ve sparked up a conversation on that. He had no clue what to talk about with her.Didn’t Yumi say something about them eating dinner? Food was a universal conversational topic. He could try that.Nishiki sauntered into the living room-kitchen area, tried to relax his shoulders. “Oi,” he called out. He cringed at his own voice. That was no way to talk to a little girl, especially the kid of Kiryu and Yumi.Haruka startled, with her eyes wide when she looked up at him. “Yes?” Okay, she didn’t seem mad anymore. That was a start.“Uh…” Nishiki scratched the back of his neck. He almost forgot what he was about to say. “Do you… want something to eat?”She blinked at him. Quiet. Nishiki was about to give up and go back to pacing, or maybe go outside and throw himself down the stairs.“What do we have?”“Huh?”“Mom said you two went grocery shopping this morning.”“Oh. Right.” Nishiki glanced at the pantry. He knew how to cook, but his brain felt too scrambled to think of converting ingredients into recipes at the moment. “Uh, we can go out. What do you want?”Haruka looked down at her homework, obviously thinking. If she said no and preferred to starve over going out with Nishiki, that was understandable. Nishiki could just go out and get her something to eat on his own. Problem solved. He was about to suggest as much until Haruka stood up, turned off the TV, and began packing up her homework. When she finished, she turned to Nishiki, looking up at him. He couldn’t get over how much her eyes looked like Yumi’s.“Can we go to Smile Burger, please?”Any truce could be made over burgers and fries. Nishiki spun his borrowed keyring from Yumi around his finger as he opened the door for Haruka. “Lead the way.”
Wednesday, December 7, 2005
Chiba
Smile Burger
17:02
Haruka asked for a cheeseburger set with a milkshake, which made Nishiki ask, “Isn’t it kinda cold for a shake right now?”“But they’re so good,” Haruka insisted. She folded her hands together. “Please?” You couldn’t beat that argument. Nishiki ordered her food first before ordering a teriyaki burger set for himself. They sat down at a table away from the window.Haruka thanked him before she began to eat. She seemed pleased enough. Nishiki ate his food at a slower pace. He still felt full from lunch.“Uh…” Nishiki cleared his throat. Where to start? An apology seemed to be in order first. “Sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t have talked to Yumi like that. I was… upset, but not at her. I shouldn’t have taken it out on her. I’m sorry you had to see that.”“Oh…” Haruka paused, hand halfway poised to her fries. “Were you my dad’s best friend?”Whoa. That was specific. Nishiki scratched at his face. “Yeah. How’d you know that? Did he talk about me?”She nodded. “Dad told me he used to have a best friend named ‘Nishikiyama.’”“Did he say anything else about me?”“Um… Maybe.” She took a sip of her shake. “I remember he said your sister named me.”“S-She did?” He wondered why Yuko picked the name “Haruka,” then. There had to be some sort of deep meaning to it, knowing Yuko. Maybe it was the name of a historical figure or book character or something. Nishiki wondered if Yuko was around for when Haruka was a baby or if she died before she was born. “Wait, when were you born?”“December 5, 1996.” Yuko died on June 24, 1996, about six months before Haruka was born. “What about you?”“Uh... October 8, 1968.”“Oh, that makes you younger than my dad.”“Yeah, I am. Just by a few months.” Nishiki took a bite of his fries. What to talk about? “Does Kiryu… visit you and Yumi?”“Mhm! He’s really busy though, so he can’t visit all the time. But he’s going to visit me on Saturday for my birthday.”“But wasn’t your birthday two days ago?”“Yes…” Haruka’s shoulders slumped. Nishiki was good at finding the wrong thing to say, wasn’t he?He hurried to ask, “What are you two planning to do?”“Hm… Maybe go out to eat?” She brightened up a bit. “I hope we can go bowling and to the arcade, too.”“Oh yeah? Kiryu takes you to the arcade?” Haruka nodded. Looks like some things never change.“Um, can I ask you something? It might sound a little rude.”“Go for it.”“Why are you here? Why are you visiting Mom?”How much of that question should he answer? “I… haven’t seen Yumi in about ten years, so I’m visiting her. I was, uh, really busy.” Don’t ask why. Don’t ask why. Don’t ask why.Haruka’s eyebrows furrowed. “Were you in jail for ten years?”“H-How—? Who told you that?”“Dad told me that he had a friend who was getting released from jail after ten years.”“Oh.” Nishiki didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, Kiryu and Yumi got married and had a kid while Nishiki was locked up. On the other hand, Kiryu actually talked about Nishiki to his kid.“Did you… do something really bad?”“Yeah, I did.” Nishiki folded his hands together as he glanced out the window on the other side of the restaurant. All sorts of people were walking around outside, moving on around them. “It was… a long time ago. I haven’t seen Yumi or Kiryu since then, so…” He shrugged.“I think my dad missed you a lot. I think he’s nervous about seeing you again.”Nishiki snorted. “Sure, he is.”“I mean it! He sounded really sad when he talked about you.”No. Nishiki couldn’t go down this path. Talking about Kiryu felt like torture. Time to change topics. “Do you know anywhere that sells cake around here?”Haruka’s eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by the sudden question. “I do. Why?”“It’ll be my birthday present for you.” If Kiryu was too busy for his own kid’s birthday, she deserved as much cake as she wanted.She smiled. It was the first genuine smile that she’s given Nishiki. “Thank you, Nishikiyama-san.”
Sunday, November 30, 1986
Kamurocho
Kazama Family Office
23:07
“Ugh!” Nishiki loudly threw himself down on the couch. Kashiwagi barely spared him a glance from the newspaper he was reading. That didn’t matter. Nishiki had been complaining to anything and anyone with a pair of ears for him to whine into. “Kazama-no-oyasan is trying to kill me,” he muttered.He halfheartedly checked his pager. No new messages from Kazama, thank God. But that was always the quiet before the storm. Kazama had given him a minimum of at least three tasks per hour for the past week. Nishiki wanted to smash his pager into pieces, but he was sure that Kazama would just send a subordinate to find him instead.Kashiwagi didn’t respond. He only turned the page of his newspaper.It didn’t matter. Nishiki filled the silence just because he could. “Where’s Kiryu? Does oyasan have him running around, too?”“Why would he be running around?”Kashiwagi always had a straightforward way of speaking, but something about his words made Nishiki’s spine tingle. “What do you mean, Kashiwagi-san?”“You do realize what’s happening here, right?” Kashiwagi’s eyes never lifted from the paper. Who reads the paper at midnight, anyway? Wouldn’t everything be old news by then?“No? What is it?” Was Nishiki missing something?“Kazama-san treats you like the errand boy, not Kiryu.”Despite himself, Nishiki frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”Kashiwagi looked at him, then. His eyes were dark, cold, never gave anything away. Nishiki always aspired to have eyes like that, but he had a long way to go. The irritated interest probably shone in his own eyes right now.“You don’t see it?” Kashiwagi asked.“See what?” Nishiki’s pager inevitably beeped, but he kept his attention on Kashiwagi.“Nothing.” Kashiwagi folded up his newspaper and set it on the table. “Don’t keep Kazama-san waiting.”“Right,” Nishiki muttered. He barely even got any so-called rest. And now he had Kashiwagi’s words, spoken like a secret he wasn’t allowed to be let in on, to figure out as he went on another wild goose chase around town, pulled by Kazama’s distant beck and call.
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
6:00
Another night of fitful sleep, but that wasn’t anything surprising. Nishiki felt like he was still in a daze when he half-opened his eyes to see everyone – Yumi, Haruka, Yasuko – gathered around in the kitchen getting ready for the day. It still felt like he shouldn’t be there, but he didn’t feel as bad as he did yesterday. That had to be a good thing.He felt like he was dreaming as he watched, as sounds and images floated in and out, between and beyond his eyes. Yumi said something that made Yasuko laugh. Nishiki hadn’t heard Yasuko laugh yet. Haruka was humming. She had a soothing voice. It was calming – seeing all of them together, living their lives. It wasn’t so bad after all.Nishiki felt his heart still, and he finally went to sleep.
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
18:00
Thursday came and went before Nishiki knew it. The day had gone by pretty well. Once he officially woke up, he was greeted by a plate of breakfast – fried eggs with toast – prepared by Haruka, who had long left for school. Yumi showed him around town a bit and took him to her bar, which was a pretty sizable place and the bartenders were all women.They ate in for lunch, which Nishiki helped Yumi make. Yasuko stopped by for her lunch break, and she kept throwing hopeful glances Nishiki’s way, but kept the conversation light.Before Haruka came home, Yumi rummaged through her closet for a photo album that she kept hidden away. She pulled out a few pictures of Yuko for Nishiki to keep.One picture was dated 1981, around when Yumi had first joined Sunflower and they all became friends. The photo was of Yuko, Nishiki, Kiryu, and Yumi in the garden together, with Yuko being the only one to notice the camera. The picture must’ve been taken by one of their caretakers. Yuko was widely smiling, showing off her missing front teeth, holding up the bundle of white camellias she picked.One picture was dated 1990. Nishiki remembered when it was taken. It was Christmastime and they had celebrated in Yumi’s apartment. The picture was of Yuko hugging Nishiki tightly, squishing their faces together, with Nishiki frowning, lips slightly blurred from being caught in a halfhearted complaint. Judging from the accidental fingertip in the corner of the photo, Kiryu must’ve taken the picture.One picture was dated 1996, on Yuko’s birthday. It looked like she was in the midst of a tea ceremony. She was wearing a plain kimono, unpatterned and monochromatically a light blue shade, with a simple white obi. She was sitting in seiza in a tearoom, with a tea bowl cradled in her hands and a small flower arrangement near her knee. Her hair was swept up and out of her face, with her eyes facing downward. And Nishiki had guessed right, her cheeks were sunken in, she hadn’t aged, she looked so small. Was this the last picture taken before she died?Haruka came home shortly afterwards, so Nishiki cried in the bathroom. They all ate dinner together, with Yasuko arriving midway through with a mille crêpe cake and a bottle of white wine (and a bottle of raspberry soda for Haruka). They all watched a variety show featuring a few actors that Nishiki recognized, and then Haruka had to go to bed. Nishiki and Yasuko shared a silent smoke on the balcony. It wasn’t as awkward as Nishiki thought it would be. Yasuko’s quiet presence couldn’t help but remind him of Saejima.When Nishiki went to bed, he managed to go to sleep without tossing and turning too much.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
6:00
And when Nishiki woke up, he felt like he got a decent amount of sleep for the first time in ten years.He turned his head to the side, facing the kitchen, waiting for the sleep to fade from the corners of his eyes. The usual casual conversation and bustling around wasn’t there this morning. He could make out Yasuko standing off to the side, hands folded behind her back. Yumi was standing beside her. Haruka was sitting at the counter, talking in a quieter tone than Nishiki had grown used to. And sitting next to her at the counter was Kazama.Nishiki’s brain didn’t quite register it. It felt like a dream. Friday wasn’t ever supposed to really come. Kazama wasn’t supposed to actually show up.But Nishiki could feel eyes on him, boring through his skin. Wednesday and Thursday were over. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and got to his feet.He heard Yumi say, “You two can talk in my room.”He heard Kazama say, “Thank you. If you’ll excuse us.”Nishiki broke the skin of his palms as he followed Kazama into Yumi’s bedroom. Kazama walked with a stronger limp now. He still smelled like tobacco and cedarwood and almond blossoms. He still wore the same suit. His hair had more gray streaks now.Right when Kazama closed the door behind Nishiki, he fell to his hands and knees at Kazama’s feet. It was like something took over his body. He moved without moving, he spoke without speaking. “I’m sorry,” he said over and over again. He clawed his fingers into the floor.“Nishikiyama.”“I’m so sorry. Please. I’m sorry—”Kazama grabbed his shoulder. It took Nishiki back. That’s how apologies went back in the day. Nishiki or Kiryu or another subordinate on their hands and knees, begging for forgiveness, to Kazama or Kashiwagi or Dojima or whoever had the right to stand tall above them – and there would be no forgiveness in return. There would either be no acknowledgement, or the burning end of a cigarette, or a kick to the head, or a bullet to the brain.So, Nishiki didn’t brace himself. He knew what was coming. Kazama, a legendary figure of the Dojima Family, brought him into the Dojima Family, just for him to kill Dojima. The stigma would stick to Kazama forever. Even death wasn’t enough of a punishment.Kazama squeezed his shoulder, hard. “Nishikiyama. Stand up.” Nishiki immediately did as told, with his head still held down. He felt like he could drown in his tears at this point. “Look at me.” Nishiki didn’t want to, but he did.His blurred vision of Kazama didn’t look vengeful or acrimonious. He looked pitying, in the way that always made Nishiki’s skin crawl, because he knew that Kazama didn’t really have any full-blooded sympathy to throw his way – it was a look you gave when you felt sorry for someone, in a way that can’t be helped.Kazama squeezed his shoulder again. His eyes looked over Nishiki’s face, unbothered by the polite notion to not stare at his scars for too long. He tightened his hand, until Nishiki could feel his fingers dig in and nearly tear into the meat of his shoulder.“Akira,” he said. Kazama only called him “Akira” when he wanted something. “For ten years, I couldn’t do anything for you. I’ve put you through a lot—more than I knew you could take.” He bowed his head. “I should’ve never let you join the yakuza. I’m sorry.”“D-Don’t—” This wasn’t right.“No. There’s nothing left to say.” Kazama let go of him. “But we can’t leave the past behind us. It’s all about to come to a head soon.”Nishiki sucked in a shaky breath through his teeth. Without Kazama to hold him up, he fell to his knees again. “R-Right,” he breathed out. “It is.” He breathed back in.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Tuesday, May 23, 2000
Kamurocho
West Taihei Boulevard
2:54
Initially, Mine would take a walk around Kamurocho after work. Then, when he realized that the “bonds” he created with his employees were ingenuine, he started to walk after dinnertime. Then, when he realized that his employees began making decisions behind his back, he started to walk before bed.And then, when he realized that his employees essentially staged a coup d’état against him and made him a powerless figurehead of his own company, he began to walk all night – from dusk until dawn. Sleep was no longer necessary if he was a nonentity in waking.Cutting ties was easy. Cutting people off is as easy as, say, changing into a different pair of shoes. It was taking the next step that could prove to be more “difficult,” or – just irritating, really. Such as, you can change into a different pair of shoes, but those shoes may need some time to “break in,” to adjust to the size and shape of your feet. It took time and patience, and whatnot. Concepts that Mine was seriously considering letting go of lately.That’s why he walked around the district, in circles, through the night – because there was no such thing as time, and he melted into the petrichor on the pavement, and he became one with the dark anonymity of the night. He could be himself.Mine never really saw anything particularly exceptional during his walks. Well, nothing out of the ordinary for Kamurocho. Intemperate yakuza, unflagging prostitutes (in various states of dress), and drunken salarymen (also in various states of dress) were simply part of the ambience – defined by sex and violence. There was nothing to be surprised by anymore. Mine had seen it all by now. He would sometimes sardonically think to himself that even if a stabbing or a shooting occurred right in front of him, he wouldn’t think much of it and would simply continue on with his walk as if nothing had happened.But inevitably, the sound of gunshots is not a common fixture within Kamurocho’s soundscape. So, when Mine heard the first gunshot fire into the night as he made his way down Taihei Boulevard – near where the incoming Millennium Tower was under construction, his ears reflexively perked at the sound.And he found himself stopping in his tracks when he heard the second shot. Because it rang too closely, he decided. Because it was an oddly quiet night, he thought to himself. Because he was about to bear witness to change, he realized.Just beneath the skeleton of the tower, there were two groups of men, illuminated by the overarching yellow light of a nearby street lamp. A man in one group fired a gun at the other group, the shot lighting up the dark in a flash. There was already a motionless man bleeding out on the ground.What the men were yelling was mostly incoherent to Mine’s ears, but it looked like your typical yakuza dispute gone wrong. It could’ve been over turf, could’ve been over status, could’ve been over money, could’ve been over nothing substantial.The most interesting thing to Mine, and would remain in his mind forevermore, was how the men in the group getting shot at encircled around another man – a taller man with an admittedly imposing figure. One man with a shaved head yelled, “Kiryu-no-aniki!” Was he referring to the tall man that they had gathered around?In quick succession, less than two seconds, six shots rang out. Three more men, including the one with the shaved head, fell to the ground – one after the other. The gunman went to reload his gun. The tall man – Kiryu? – punched the man, then kicked the man, then began to stomp the man. He swung at the other men who attempted to help the fallen gunman, and they all fell to the ground – one after the other.The man possibly named Kiryu looked at his fallen men. He yelled the men’s names, fell to his knees and held up the man with the shaved head in his arms. There was only silence in return.Mine watched for a moment longer. The surviving man grew still for a long time, as still as the dead and unconscious men around him. He didn’t call for help. He didn’t walk away.Mine found himself not walking away, either. Why? Because he was… confused. For a lack of a better word, he was confused. And not many things ever left him confused. Everything was either rudimentary or not worth losing energy over. But – this. Why?The world was filled with people who only operated on their own selfish wills. Mine’s employees were an exemplary example of the fact. If a gunman was threatening to shoot Mine, they would surely either run away or push him closer into the line of fire to save themselves. The type of people who would take a bullet for another man, the type of people who would exchange their lives for another man – those type of people didn’t exist. At least, not to Mine’s understanding. Not in Mine’s world. Loyalty was an unfathomable concept.It only begged the question: what type of man was able to command so much respect that people were willing to die for him?He managed to slip away, shrouded by darkness, once he saw the man’s shoulders begin to tremble. Mine kept the name, “Kiryu,” locked away within the steel safe of his mind for later.
Monday, May 29, 2000
Kamurocho
M Store
7:30
But he didn’t need to. Because he kept seeing the man’s name again and again, until he managed to put the pieces together like some sort of jagged jigsaw puzzle.Mine was fine with being the middleman, but he didn’t like being caught in the middle. Perhaps he forfeited sleep and walked all night to run away from the transitionary period that was unwelcomely forging into his life. He knew he had to undercut his business – snip his weeds of so-called employees by the roots – but what was the next step? Mine had never moved forward without a foolproof plan before.And then there was one morning when the café near his apartment had abruptly closed down – something about the plumbing malfunctioning – so he was forced to go to a nearby convenience store for his morning coffee fix. (Convenience stores do not sell Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee, which is highly inconvenient.) When Mine was perusing the aisles for a somewhat suitable substitute, the magazine rack caught his eye.It was a particularly garish looking magazine placed front and center among a row of equally as garish magazines – shamelessly displaying either scantily-clad women or men in tacky, overpriced suits. The only reason why Mine looked at the magazine was because that name, “Kiryu,” was plastered all over the cover.Now, he had a face to the name: Kiryu Kazuma. And Kiryu Kazuma was apparently the patriarch of the Dojima Family and the Kiryu Family. (Which made Mine internally raise an eyebrow. He had never heard of someone being the patriarch of two families before. How… overtaxing.)The thought of coffee and work evaporated from Mine’s mind as he picked up the magazine. It was a new issue, dated today, of Jitsuwa Bare Knuckle. Ah, one of those yakuza “fan” magazines, or whatever they were called. This magazine seemed to be dedicated to the comings and goings of the Tojo Clan, and – judging from a quick skim through the pages – it also covered topics such as sex toys, sex services, sex hormones, sex workers, sex addicts, sex films, and sex cartoons. Oh, and current events on foreign crime and politics. But those things didn’t matter. Just – there. An article written on Kiryu Kazuma.
HOT NEWS!! — On Tuesday, May 23, Kiryu-kumicho – the Dragon of Dojima and rare double patriarch of the first-tier Dojima Family and the second-tier Kiryu Family – was involved in a deadly skirmish with the third-tier Takahashi Family near the construction site of the Millennium Tower. Four members of the Kiryu Family – including the family captain, Tanaka Shinji – were found dead on the scene.
Takahashi-kumicho – patriarch of the Takahashi Family – later died on Friday, May 26, succumbing to his injuries due to the skirmish. One other Takahashi Family member was also found dead on the scene. The Takahashi Family has subsequently disbanded on Sunday, May 28 as a result. (Was this disbandment a choice of the family, or a choice of the higher-ups of the Tojo Clan? Who knows!)
The Kiryu-Takahashi conflict was believed to have been ignited over territorial issues, with members of the Kiryu Family confronting the Takahashi Family about encroaching upon their businesses on Taihei Boulevard. This confrontation proved to turn deadly – but, as always, the Dragon of Dojima continues to triumph over all! Who do you think will be the new captain of the Kiryu Family? Mail in your bets for a chance to win a featured AV film of your choice!
Mine tucked the magazine beneath his arm before he walked over to the cashier, who blankly blinked up at him. “Do you have any previous issues of this magazine?” Mine asked. The cashier blearily nodded before reaching for a box beneath the counter and pulling out a stack of magazines. “I’ll take all of them.”Mine forgot to buy coffee, but no matter. His mind suddenly felt more alert than ever.
Monday, February 5, 2001
Kamurocho
Mine’s Apartment
18:24
Mine wasn’t going out for a walk tonight. Tonight, he was staying in. It would’ve made sense if he went out to eat, in a display of self-celebration, but he decided against it. He wanted to stay at home. He ordered in, flaunting enough money upfront to convince one of the most expensive restaurants in Kamurocho to send him a home delivery of sukiyaki with Matsusaka wagyu beef and the priciest bottle of red wine they carried.Why the self-celebration? Mine had accomplished making his own company crash and burn. If his former “trusted” employees were going to leech off of his company, fine. Mine had long instilled plenty of measures and countermeasures for the company to go belly up no matter what his former employees did, and for them to be trapped within a sinking hole for as long as possible, and for them to find it difficult to find work anywhere else inside of Tokyo.All well’s that ends well. Mine almost smiled as he took a healthy bite of beef and glass noodles. Did they honestly think they could beard the lion in its den? Mine always got the last laugh (even if he hardly ever did laugh).The TV was on, playing the news – the only noteworthy channel, in Mine’s book. When the channel cut to commercial, Mine took it as an opportunity to refill his glass of wine – and then he nearly dropped his glass of wine, because there was suddenly a familiar face on the TV. A very familiar face.Kiryu Kazuma was on screen, with a group of men surrounding him, standing in front of the eyesore that was the Millennium Tower. And a… overbearing rock song began to play, something that should’ve been left forgotten in the 1980s.The men on the screen were all cross armed and scowling, especially Kiryu. A voiceover played, heavily layering over a loud guitar riff – a voice that was deep, yet… maybe “soft” would be the word, but Mine disliked such “gentle” connotations. Anyways, the voice said, “Iron Trust. Open now.” The scene changed, showing the men on top of the Millennium Tower, opening up aluminum briefcase after aluminum briefcase filled to the brim with money.When the camera zoomed in on Kiryu, standing in front of a large pile of money, he cracked his knuckles before pointing at the camera, eyebrows deeply furrowed, as the voiceover said, “Real talk. Real estate.” Text displaying a location to a high floor of the tower and a phone number flashed on screen as another guitar riff played, following an explosion taking up the screen.And that was it. The commercial was over. Mine half-snorted through his nose as he finally took a sip of wine.Kiryu Kazuma hadn’t left Mine’s mind for the past year. But the collection of news stories and magazines that he had gathered created quite a fantastical image of Kiryu Kazuma, the “Dragon of Dojima.” It made Mine always inevitably wonder what the reality was, who a man that managed to bring forth genuine respect and loyalty from others was like. There had to be something to truly revere beneath the image. Legend didn’t make the man.But Mine had found no innings for further inquiry – unless he wanted to outright join the yakuza and “swear up” to the Dojima Family, which he would never do. But… it looked like this business, Iron Trust, could need someone to help them better conceptualize their commercials and branding. And also, someone who could handle the surely thousands of yen they nonchalantly flashed on TV.If Mine was good at one thing, it was the gray flannel life.
Friday, February 1, 2002
Kamurocho
Restaurant Q
21:17
On the first anniversary of the official founding of Iron Trust, a long series of promotions were distributed amongst the employees.Usually, Mine would see it as an enormous red flag of unprofessionalism if he was given the offer to be a company’s chief financial officer after only a year of employment – but he quickly learned that Iron Trust did not play by the book, and he had adjusted accordingly. It was a business where a financial advisor could shoot up to the CFO position all too easily because such a position didn’t exist until Kiryu bestowed it upon him… today. Ah well.Kiryu invited all of his employees out to the most expensive restaurant in Kamurocho to celebrate. All expenses paid for by him, their generous CEO.Mine, about to indulge in his second flute of champagne, felt a rough hand squeeze his shoulder. He immediately turned around and was greeted by Kiryu’s as-usual scowling face. Their proximity was closer than usual due to the overcrowded restaurant, but Mine didn’t mind it.“Meet me outside,” was all Kiryu said before he began to move through the crowd. Mine blindly handed off his drink to the nearest body before he followed without question.Once they were outside, Mine allowed himself to take a deep breath through his nose. The cool bite of spring air was preferrable over the crowded heat inside of the restaurant. Kiryu was already lighting up a cigarette and exhaling smoke out of his nose. Such a gesture always made Mine offhandedly think that the man’s “dragon” nickname was actually more than sensible.“Mine…” Kiryu let out a sigh. “I know what you’re doing.”“What am I doing, Kiryu-san? I’m not sure if I follow.” It could’ve been anything, really. Mine was just pleased with the fact that Kiryu had caught on to at least one of the things that he had been doing.Mine had a good guess on what was coming before Kiryu opened his mouth. First came the good: “Look, I appreciate all the work you’ve done.” Second came the bad: “But I can’t agree with your methods and the way you go about things.”If Mine could, he would’ve laughed. If he laughed, Kiryu would’ve gotten that typically confused look on his face – a breakaway expression. Kiryu was a stoic man, but he had so many cracks in his façade, it was quite something else. Perhaps Mine’s favorite thing about the man-turned-myth. But instead of laughing, he asked, “What do you find so disagreeable about my methods?”“You’re stealing other families’ territories.”“Hm?” They locked eyes through the cloud of smoke that Kiryu seethed out between his teeth. No matter how hard he may try, his eyes could never wane cold. “I believe there is a contradiction in your statement, Kiryu-san.”“What?”“If you truly appreciate the work that I have done for you and Iron Trust, then you would not find my methods to be disagreeable. My ‘methods’ are what caused for the company to get off its starting legs and to establish itself within not only Kamurocho, but all of Tokyo. I do not recall hearing any complaints when I assisted with you laundering funds from the Tojo Clan through Iron Trust. I also do not recall hearing any requests of remission when it was announced that the Dojima Family had an exceptional, unparalleled amount of net income last month during the annual clan meeting, and when you were consecutively elected as the highest earner of the clan.”Kiryu’s frown impossibly deepened. He even stamped out his cigarette with a huff. Mine didn’t care, though. Any attention was good attention.He continued on, “Real estate is not a reliable business. It is no longer the 1980s, Kiryu-san. We are within the Lost Decade for the unforeseeable future. And due to the capricious nature of the economy, we must invest in the future. If we do not use invasive methods, we would have collapsed within ourselves before our first year was over, and the Dojima Family would be deemed essentially unprofitable, and you—alongside the family—would lose face. Why do you suddenly wish to stop using these ‘methods’? ‘Methods’ that have been proven to be irrefragably successful, no less.”Mine didn’t give Kiryu a chance to answer.“Is it to ‘save face,’ to perpetuate your image of honorability? If so, I can temporarily halt from seizing all available property, but it will only be a pro tem ‘solution.’ The deed has already been done. I intend on moving forward in the way I see most fit, and I would recommend that you do the same. Methods aside, I see no reason to stop such epoch-making progress when we are burgeoning and our future is promised.”Kiryu crossed his arms. “Are you done talking?”“Yes. I am done.” What more was there to say? It was like he wasn’t listening at all. That’s what Mine liked about Kiryu, though. He seemed to only listen to himself. No matter. “Perhaps we can agree to disagree for now.” Mine bowed his head, low and deep, trying his best to convey feeling. “Or perhaps we can privately discuss this further over dinner tomorrow, if you have the time.”“Mine…” Kiryu faced ahead, at the cars zipping past on the rain-soaked road. “Stop. Cut your losses before it’s too late. I don’t want to have to let you go.” And with that, he went back inside of the restaurant.Mine lingered outside for a moment. Maybe it seemed like he had gotten scolded and rejected by his boss on the outside, but he honestly accepted the reprimanding earnestly. He was just going to take it one step at a time. He was getting close, close, yet closer to Kiryu.
“I don’t want to have to let you go.”
Just a little closer. Almost there.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
6:33
Nishiki didn’t have the strength to get up from his knees. So, he sat in seiza by Kazama’s feet as Kazama sat on Yumi’s bed, cane nestled between his legs – like Nishiki was a child getting scolded. He didn’t feel too far from that. He hung his head down.“I’ll start from the beginning,” Kazama said. “I was personally not involved with the Ueno Seiwa Clan hit. At first, Dojima didn’t order for me and Shimano to get directly involved with the Ueno Seiwa Clan because they were too inferior for us, despite being a rival clan. That’s why it was decided that low-ranking members would take them out.”“Majima and Saejima,” Nishiki murmured. Kazama grunted in affirmation.“Yes. But the hit was a failure. Majima never showed up and Saejima only killed eighteen Ueno Seiwa men, not the chairman Ueno Yoshiharu and the current captain Katsuragi Isao.”Nishiki picked his head up slightly, eyebrows furrowed. Okay, the Ueno Seiwa Clan’s involvement made sense, of course, but he had a big question. “Wait… What does Shibata have to do with this?” Majima had blown up the Shibata Family office and Yasuko mentioned that the Shibata Family was involved in the hit, but she never gave an explanation as to how and why. And Nishiki couldn’t remember Saejima ever mentioning Shibata, either. How the hell did the Shibata Family tie into this shitshow?Kazama’s grip on his cane tightened. The handle was golden, and maybe it was crafted to look like a dragon, but Nishiki couldn’t quite tell with Kazama’s hands covering it. “The Shibata Family was rivals with the Sasai Family, which Saejima was a part of. Sasai received an anonymous tip on Ueno’s release date from prison, and Sasai was the one who convinced the clan to go through with the hit. Once it was approved, the Dojima Family oversaw the plan—with Majima chosen as the hitman. But once the plan was passed down to the Sasai Family, Saejima was also chosen as an additional hitman.”Saejima had mentioned most of that before. Nishiki remembered. “Sasai was given an ‘anonymous tip’?” Yeah right. In the yakuza, nothing was truly spontaneous. “That had to be insider information.”“Most likely,” Kazama agreed. “That’s why Dojima and Shimano grew skeptical of the plan. How was Sasai able to suddenly receive such a vital piece of information from an unknown source? It was too good to be true, seemed like a possible setup. Dojima and Shimano decided to cancel the hit, and ordered Shibata to stop Majima from going through with the plan. But since Majima refused to abandon Saejima, who was already at the scene, the Shibata Family attacked him and stabbed out his eye for his insubordination.”“Shit…” So, the rumors were true after all.“For further punishment, Majima was thrown in the Hole by Shimano and had to work his way back into the family. Saejima went through with the hit alone. He received a life sentence and was put on death row. The Sasai Family was disbanded for failing to pull off the hit.”Kazama stopped speaking. His eyes held steady on Nishiki. Nishiki gave in to the urge to bow his head down again. What the hell did Kazama want? For Nishiki to respond? What did he want him to say?“Uh…” Nishiki really thought about it, because that’s what it seemed like Kazama wanted him to do. The hit plan seemed fishy as hell from the get-go, but what specifically seemed off about it? “Saejima killed everyone except the chairman and the current captain?” Nishiki thought aloud. “That’s… really convenient.”“It is.”“And the Shibata Family was rivals with the Sasai Family?” Nishiki slowly picked his head up again. “That’s really lucky for them that the Sasai Family got disbanded.” Kazama nodded. “Do you think… Shibata had an accomplice in the Ueno Seiwa Clan and set the hit up?” If he did, then it was probably the current captain that miraculously lived getting a bullet to the chest. Katsuragi, was it? “The Shibata Family wipes out their rivals and get a boost up the ranks. Only Ueno and Katsuragi live, and Katsuragi gets a boost up the ranks, too,” Nishiki muttered. Sounded like a cut-and-dry scheme if it was true.Kazama gave a curt nod of approval. “I agree.”“But…” That just created more questions. “How did Ueno and Katsuragi live? And how did no one suspect Shibata or Katsuragi?” Now, Nishiki wouldn’t consider himself to be too much of an idiot, but he wasn’t some sort of super genius, either. If a nobody like him could see through the plan, wouldn’t everyone else?“Everyone did suspect them. I’ve always thought that they likely colluded with some sort of higher-ups, most likely in the police, so that evidence could be falsified and legally clear them from any fault.” Plenty of yakuza had connections with the police and vice versa. How much money could get thrown at the police to look the other way from a premeditated assassination hit? Probably didn’t take too much. Eighteen yakuza dead, one in jail for life on death row, and one family disbanded – sounded like a great deal for the police, sounded like they got the better end of the bargain. “And there’s no incentive for anyone in the clan to question Shibata or to defend Sasai, Saejima, and Majima. Failure is failure—no matter what.”Nishiki let out a long breath through his nose. That explained everything, then. Why Majima was going so hard against the Shibata Family and would probably target the Ueno Seiwa Clan next. Nishiki thought he had gotten burned by the clan, but at least he came out on the other side with both eyes and a living kyodai. He had to give some credit to Majima after all. He thought the guy was just batshit insane and flipped with the wind, but his vendetta seemed justifiable and like it was a long time coming.Speaking of the devil, “What’s taking Majima so long to go after the Ueno Seiwa?” He blew up the Shibata Family office on Tuesday, and now it was Friday. Nishiki hadn’t heard anything new since then. What was the wait for?“Shibata and three members of the Shibata Family were found dead yesterday morning. Shot up and floating down the Arakawa River.”“W-What?” Nishiki’s eyes widened.“We managed to keep the news as under wraps as possible,” Kazama matter-of-factly said.“Really? You think Majima…?” If Nishiki was going to continue giving Majima credit, then he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would load men up with bullets and send them floating down the river. Then again, maybe Majima just finally found the nerve to pull the trigger. Nishiki honestly couldn’t blame him. If he lost an eye and Kiryu got executed over a setup, he probably would’ve blown up more than just a family office.“We aren’t sure. Kazuma was questioned by two homicide detectives about it yesterday, but had no information to give them.” Kazama shook his head. “I would like to believe that Majima wasn’t behind Shibata’s death, but my personal reservations don’t matter. Whether he was behind the deaths or not, he’s in deep water regardless. And… his current whereabouts are unknown.”“Seriously?” It was just one thing after another, wasn’t it?“He was last sighted on Wednesday morning, leaving Kamurocho by car. Shibata and his men’s time of death is estimated to be Wednesday night.”All fingers seemed to point to Majima. But maybe that was all too convenient. Or maybe Nishiki was thinking too hard about it. Sure, maybe the Ueno Seiwa Clan hit could’ve been a setup, and sure, Shibata and the Shibata Family murders could’ve maybe been a setup, too. But why? Sometimes the explanation that required the fewest assumptions worked best. Majima getting fed up and getting his get back made plenty of sense, too. Maybe he was hiding out and plotting against the Ueno Seiwa Clan right now, waiting for the perfect time to strike.A heavy beat passed. Kazama’s piercing gaze never left Nishiki’s face, while Nishiki’s eyes flickered away – landing on Yumi’s bed, Kazama’s knee, his own hands. He stretched and clenched his fingers a few times. Nishiki had practically known Kazama all of his life. Even though he could never quite wrap his head around how the man operated, he got the gist of it. Kazama appeared when he wanted something from you. Kazama disappeared when you wanted something from him. At least, he was like that with Nishiki.Nishiki tightened his fingers. Time to stop beating around the bush. “What do you want me to do?” he asked in a sigh.Kazama didn’t speak for a long moment. Anything could’ve come out of his mouth, but Nishiki knew it wouldn’t be denial. Kazama wasn’t one to dress up his words. If he wanted something, he’d say so. It didn’t matter how he came off – if it was selfish, if it was egoistic, if it was unfair. It wasn’t supposed to matter that Kazama ignored him and let him rot in prison alone for a decade, and that he was going to ask Nishiki, not even an hour into their reunion, to help the same clan that wanted his head on a stick.Nishiki tightened his fingers into his hand. It didn’t “matter” if Kazama gave Nishiki more than he knew he could take, because he would do it again – and again – and again. Because Nishiki was supposed to give, give, give. Until there wasn’t anything left to give.When Kazama blinked, he finally spoke: “Last week, I told Kazuma to let you make your own decisions. You can say no. The choice is yours.”Nishiki couldn’t help but scoff. But he was still the one kneeling, still the powerless one.Kazama, ignoring him, continued on, “Majima almost singlehandedly took down the Dojima Family during its height in 1988. He will be capable of much more now with his own family at the helm. Also, losing a valuable asset like Majima would be disadvantageous to the Tojo.” There. I knew it. Nishiki was already shaking his head to himself, but Kazama wouldn’t stop: “I believe that you, alongside Kazuma, are the only people who can convince Majima to stop from declaring war against the Ueno Seiwa Clan—and possibly against the Tojo Clan, too.” Kazama’s words had long turned to harsh static in Nishiki’s ears.“Why?” Nishiki asked in between his teeth – like the words hurt to say, like he was choking. “Why me?”“Because of your connection to Saejima.”“Of course you knew that,” Nishiki muttered. That all-too familiar bitter feeling easily worked its way up his throat, always burning like bile. But he knew there wouldn’t be a regretful aftertaste this time. “Why should I help the clan after all the shit I’ve been through?” he spat out. “Do you know how many times I had to fight for my life in jail? How many times I almost died from your chairman’s assassins?” Even though Nishiki’s voice didn’t sound like his own, he didn’t recoil from himself.But Kazama didn’t either. His lips twitched, like he wanted his frown to deepen but didn’t allow it to. He had the audacity to look like he expected Nishiki’s outburst and was simply allowing for it to happen. And it made Nishiki all the angrier.“And why should I help you? If you knew about me and Saejima, then you knew what I went through in jail—and you let it happen! You would’ve let me die!” Nishiki hated when his voice raised on its own. It made him sound hysterical. It made him sound like he had no self-restraint – because he didn’t. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? Because I ‘owe you.’ I killed our patriarch. Is this how I ‘make it up to you’ for killing Dojima? Is…?” Is this how I can be forgiven? His voice couldn’t carry on.Kazama’s hands tightened over his cane again. The tip of the cane screeched against the hardwood floor, making Nishiki inevitably flinch back. “You don’t need to act out of obligation for me or the Dojima Family. You are no longer a part of the clan. You are a free man. You only need to act for yourself, Nishikiyama.”Nishiki tried to calm himself down. He clawed his fingers into his lap. He could feel his chest rising and falling like crazy.
“I’d do anything for Kazama-no-oyasan. But he gives in return.”
The Nishiki of two days ago, who had been kneeling before the Dojimas and barely clinging to his life, already felt so far away from the Nishiki of today, who was kneeling before Kazama and deciding his own fate.But, a voice in the back of his mind whispered, a small voice that always wanted to be seen as the favorite son, he said only you and Kiryu can stop Majima. It was usually always Nishiki being asked to help Kiryu in the way that a sidekick would be asked to assist the hero – to help, but to ultimately stay in the background. Never had Nishiki been asked to help Kiryu as an equal before.This was new. This feeling of being as valuable as Kiryu instead of being valuable for Kiryu.Nishiki hung his head down again. What the hell was he thinking?He heard Kazama move to his feet, heard the way the joints in his knees creaked as he stood. “You should meet with Kazuma by tonight through Kazuki, before Majima can possibly strike—which we are guessing will most likely be over this weekend depending on how the Ueno Seiwa Clan moves. Maybe Kazuma can be more convincing in finding a ‘why’ for you.” Kazama left, leaving the door open behind him.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Chiba
Shiyakusho-mae Station
8:00
Before they got on the train, Nishiki told Yumi, “I don’t know what to do.”And Yumi gently smiled before she said, “What do you mean? You’re going back to Kamurocho with Yasuko right now. I think you already decided what to do.” After she hugged him goodbye, she said, “Remember what oyasan told you? You don’t have to do this for him or the clan. This could be your opportunity to rewrite the narrative, to fight your own battle, to fulfill Saejima’s last wishes—to do whatever you want to do.”Nishiki didn’t want to let Yumi go, didn’t want to let Chiba go. But the train had arrived, and he and Yasuko had to go. For now. “Come back soon, Nishikiyama-kun. Okay? Me and Haruka will look forward to it,” Yumi said. He missed her already.Yasuko packed light, only bringing a purse and a large carryall bag that Nishiki carried for her. She had practically collapsed into herself with gratitude when Nishiki told her that they should go to Kamurocho as soon as possible. She was quiet now, looking but not-looking out of the windows in front of them, at Chiba disappearing before their eyes.Their train car was empty. The silence was getting suffocating and Nishiki’s thoughts were too loud. He cleared his throat, which made Yasuko jump slightly as she glanced at him. “Uh…” There were actually plenty of things to talk about with Yasuko – as long as Nishiki didn’t trip over his own tongue again. “Why didn’t you leave sooner?” That seemed like a good start-off question.“E-Eh?” Okay, maybe it wasn’t a good start-off question. “What… do you mean?”“I mean, Majima blew up the Shibata Family office on Tuesday. Why didn’t you leave for Kamurocho back then?”“Oh…” Yasuko slowly blinked. “Because Yumi-san wanted me to wait until Kiryu-san called her back before making a decision on whether I should go to Kamurocho or not… but he never did.”“Really?” Kiryu didn’t show up for his daughter’s birthday and didn’t answer his ex-wife’s calls? “What an asshole,” Nishiki said with no feeling. And he was likely going to meet with that same asshole before the day was done. The prospect hadn’t fully sunk in yet because he refused to let it, lest he throw himself down on the train tracks.“Um, he usually calls her back. He… just must be really busy right now.”“Maybe.” No more Kiryu talk. Not until Nishiki went through a pack of cigarettes. “How’d you know the Shibata Family was involved in the hit? I can’t figure that one out.”Yasuko made a small sound, similar to a gasp. She looked down at her hands that were bunching up the hem of her trench coat. A beat passed, two, before she spoke. “I, um… I did my own research into the hit after it happened, because I-I wanted to help my brother’s case, but…” She tightly clasped her hands together, never looking away from them. “W-When I tried to meet with the lead detective of the case, he… he died. I-I got scared and stopped looking. And I left Tokyo and moved to Chiba soon after.”“Oh yeah? How’d the detective die? Did he get killed, or was it one of those ‘sudden, mysterious accident’ kinda things?”“H-He was shot. They—His body. They found it in the Arakawa River one day.”Nishiki blinked. “What?” Well, that had to be a coincidence, right? There were probably plenty of bodies that went floating down the Arakawa at a given time, but shit. “He must’ve known too much and got silenced, I’m guessing.” Yasuko gave a shaky nod. “What about Majima? Do you stay in contact with him, or no?”“Um, n-not really. Not so much. After he worked his way back in the Shimano Family, I… I, um, would try to talk to him. B-But he didn’t really want to. He would keep pushing me away.” She started to pick at the skin around her fingernails. “I tried to visit my brother every day after he was sent to prison, but I would always get turned away… Once, I saw Majima-san outside of the prison. In 1999, I think. We talked for a while, and… and he told me what happened with the hit, and what he thought happened—what could’ve gone wrong and if it was a setup. And… he told me to stay away from Kamurocho and to stop following news of him and the Tojo, but…”“You still do?” Yasuko nodded. She seemed like she knew a lot, like one of those writers for the yakuza fan magazines back in the day who saw all but went unseen. Nishiki wondered if people still wrote those kinds of things. “Sounds like you keep your ear to the streets.” Yasuko paused before she nodded again. “What do you think Majima’s planning right now, if you had to guess?”“I…” Yasuko let out a quiet breath. “Kazama-san told me about Shibata being found dead. B-But I know Majima-san, and I know he wouldn’t do something like that.” If Yasuko said so, with her long-running history with Majima and all, then Nishiki was inclined to believe it. “M-Maybe someone is trying to make him look bad? I don’t know…” She deflated toward the end of her sentence.“No, no. Maybe you’re on to something.” Nishiki shrugged. “Anything’s possible at this point.”Yasuko gave him a quick look from the corner of her eye. “R-Really?” Nishiki shrugged again. “Um… I think Majima-san is maybe going to draw out the Ueno Seiwa Clan? B-But I don’t know how, or when… or what’s taking him so long to do so. Maybe…” Yasuko’s eyes widened. “Maybe the Ueno Seiwa killed Shibata and want to pin it on Majima-san in order to force him to make a move?” And she quickly deflated all over again. “Ah, maybe that’s too far…”“Nothing’s too far when it comes to the yakuza. I always hated this mind game shit. Why think it out when you can just fight it out, you know what I mean?”“Uh… I guess so?”Nishiki reached into his pocket. “Is this a non-smoking train?” He didn’t wait for Yasuko to answer. He pulled out his cigarettes, offering the packet to her first. She began to shake her head at the offer, but he plucked out a cigarette for her. “Come on. We deserve it. This’ll probably be the last time we can relax. Once we’re in Kamurocho, it’s over.”After a moment, Yasuko gingerly accepted the cigarette, and even lit both of their cigarettes up with her lighter. When they both exhaled smoke at the same time, and Nishiki caught the small, relaxed smile on Yasuko’s face, for a moment, he felt like his old self. But the sudden realization made his fingers tremble as he breathed around his cigarette.Why did he feel that way? Because he managed to talk so naturally to Yasuko and put her at ease without giving it a second thought. Why did it feel so bad? Nishiki didn’t know why. Maybe because his old self was closer than he thought.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Kamurocho
Shinjuku Station
10:26
Yasuko dozed off during their last train ride. She fell asleep with her head straight up, not leaning back against the window or off to the side. Nishiki had never seen anything like it. He thought she was even still awake but just had her eyes closed for a moment, until he heard a soft snore come out of her nose. It was like she was meditating or something.He wondered how she felt. In two days, Saejima’s execution would have been a week ago.Being in the yakuza taught your heart how to steel itself and not allow anything to linger, or else the heartache would kill you. Sometimes there was a superior that you looked up to who would be found stabbed in his own bed, and you had to march on. Sometimes there was a subordinate that you liked to get drinks with every night who would be found shot in an alleyway, and you had to carry on. Sometimes there was a new recruit that stuck to your hip and you soon grew secretly fond of his overeager “aniki!” cries, who would go out on a job and never come back, and you had to move on. Sentiment kills.But Yasuko was a civilian. She was an outsider no matter how much she looked in. She must’ve been hurting in the same way that Nishiki did when he found out that Yuko died, in the fact that she didn’t get to see Saejima for decades and couldn’t be there when he died. She didn’t have to internalize and ignore her grief. She didn’t have to put it on a backburner and wait for the inevitable day when it all boiled over. The pain would last a lifetime, and she didn’t have to keep it within if she didn’t want to.Maybe Nishiki being able to say goodbye to Saejima helped him, but Yasuko wasn’t able to. Didn’t she mention that she would try to visit Saejima every day for the past twenty years and got turned away? Shit. That level of devotion and dedication couldn’t be replicated. That depth of love couldn’t be recreated. She was probably hurting so much right now but decided to stride into a possible war in Kamurocho to save Majima from his own hurt.Nishiki could see why Yumi was such good friends with Yasuko.The door opened. Not the one leading out of the train, but the one that connected the train cars to each other. Nishiki’s head immediately spun around at the sound. An unassuming man with a small suitcase came in. He timidly bowed his head toward an older couple he walked past before he settled on the only available seat: right next to Nishiki.“Sorry,” the man murmured to Nishiki, bowing slightly toward him. “I was feeling a little winded and I needed somewhere to sit, but there were no more seats in the car I was in. I hope this isn’t a bother.”Nishiki quickly scrutinized the man from the corner of his eye. The man looked like he was in his early to mid-thirties, and he was wearing your typical salaryman getup: charcoal gray suit, white shirt, navy blue tie. The guy even had on a pair of thin-rimmed glasses. He looked as nonthreatening as you could get. Which made Nishiki even more on edge. It was like the perfect nobody who could kill him and get away with it because no one would remember what he looked like.“It’s, uh, fine,” Nishiki remembered to breathe out. He leaned a little closer to Yasuko, who was still asleep.The man fully turned to him with another slight bow. “Again, sorry for the inconvenience.” When he straightened up, probably getting a better look at Nishiki’s face, he suddenly gasped. Which made Nishiki flinch. And then the man rubbed at his eyes. “O-Oh. Sorry,” he apologized again. “You… look like someone I used to know, but I realized I was mistaken. It…” The man shook his head. “It wouldn’t have been possible, anyway. My apologies.”Well. There were two directions that this could go in.“Let me guess,” Nishiki sighed. “I look like Hiroshi?”The man’s eyes widened. “Y-You knew Hiroshi?”Looked like it was going in the better direction. Because if this man recognized Nishikiyama Akira the Kin Slayer, then they were both going to be in for a bumpy ride.“No, I never knew the guy, but people keep mistaking me for him.”“Oh. Well, you both have a striking resemblance. It’s uncanny, actually.” The man gave a polite smile, but Nishiki could tell it was wilted. “I would’ve thought that you were him if it wasn’t for…” He shook his head again as he trailed off.“If it wasn’t for what?” Nishiki was invested now, dammit.“Well… Hiroshi was my younger brother.” The man let out a forced, quiet laugh. “You may be wondering how, considering my appearance. Since you look similarly to Hiroshi, I’m sure you can guess what he looked like. I do look quite different from him. I’m certainly not as good looking. They say that the older sibling gets all the brains while the younger sibling gets all the beauty.” The man chuckled. Nishiki thought about it. He would say it was the other way around when it came to himself and Yuko, but Yuko was plenty pretty herself. She could’ve had it all if it weren’t for her illness. “But anyways, if it weren’t for the fact that Hiroshi passed away last month, I would’ve thought he was you.”“He died?” Nishiki wasn’t sure what he was expecting out of his little doppelgänger drama, but not this sort of ending. He was half-expecting to eventually even meet the guy somewhere down the road with the way things were going. “What happened? If… you don’t mind me asking.”“Oh. Well…” The man tapped his fingers against the handle of his suitcase. “He had proposed to his girlfriend but her family rejected him. He was really hurt by it, so he wanted to visit our parents in Muroran to recoup and ask for advice—but he got hit by a car while he was crossing the street, just a little ways from the house. He… was almost home, but he never made it.” The man’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat.“You… didn’t tell anyone he died?” The guy’s girlfriend thought he had skipped out on her, but in reality, he was dead and it looked like no one told her about it – alongside the rest of the people in Kamurocho, it seemed like.“No. Well, not yet. We… just don’t know what to say.”“You could just say he died.”“I know, but…” The man’s shoulders slouched. “So many people depended on Hiroshi. It’s ironic how his girlfriend’s parents deemed him as ‘unsuccessful,’ but I would argue the opposite. Everyone knew him. So many people relied on him. I mean, I would say that I’m not doing too bad for myself—I work a steady, corporate job in town. But I could get dismissed and easily replaced at any time. There is no one who could replace someone like Hiroshi, though.“I guess… I guess what I am trying to get at is that we just don’t have the heart to tell everyone he died because it would be devastating. Everyone loved him so much. And everyone needs a hero to believe in and to keep them going on. Do you know what I mean?”“Yeah... I know.” All too well.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Friday, December 9, 2005
Chiba
Yumi’s Apartment
8:05
Before Yumi could even take a breather, the telephone rang. She made sure to clear her throat before she answered. “Hello? This is the Sawamura household.”“Yumi.” It was Kiryu. Despite herself, Yumi felt slightly calmed at the sound of his voice. She couldn’t help it. He had one of the most soothing voices in the world. And something about hearing it over the phone rather than in person made her heart squeeze a little less. “Sorry for making you wait.”“No, it’s fine. Actually, you know what?” Yumi leaned her hip against the kitchen counter. “Everything sort of just worked out on its own. Well, it did on my end.”“Hm? What do you mean?” There was some shuffling around, sounded like papers being sorted. Kiryu would be at work right now, so that made sense. He was probably sitting at his desk, looking at an endless pile of paperwork. Yumi didn’t know how he did it. Kiryu wasn’t ever the reading type. Maybe he just skimmed through everything and went by feeling, as he usually did.“I mean the whole Majima versus the world thing. I just deployed my troops to the war.”“…Huh?”Yumi couldn’t help but laugh. Kiryu was just way too easy to tease. “Sorry, sorry. I mean that Nishikiyama-kun was here for the past couple of days, and he just left to Kamurocho with Yasuko.”“W-What? He—?”“Mhm.” Yumi crossed an arm over her stomach. “They left about five minutes ago. You just missed him.”It sounded like Kiryu stopped breathing for a moment. Yumi didn’t speak. He needed to understandably collect his thoughts. He finally let out a sigh, long and weary. He sounded so damn tired. A part of Yumi’s heart would always yearn for him, for better or worse.“Kazuma?” she gently called out.“Kazama-no-oyasan told me that he was visiting you. I… didn’t know Nishiki was there, too. I guess they talked to each other.” He paused again. “It feels like everyone’s seen him but me at this point.”“Kazuma,” Yumi said again, “I can’t speak for Nishikiyama-kun. Even though he’s going to Kamurocho with Yasuko, I don’t know if he’ll necessarily help Kazama-san with Majima. And I don’t know if he’s going to talk to you, either. But… just know he’s gone through a lot, more than what he would tell me.”“Is… Is he different now?”Yumi thought about it, really thought about it, before she decided to answer, “You’ll have to decide that for yourself, Kazuma.”“Right.” Kiryu made a small sound – of sadness, Yumi assumed. “Oyasan told me to wait for him, to let him make his own decision, to… let him go if he doesn’t choose to come back to me.”Come back to me. There was always something irreplicable between Kiryu and Nishiki. At one point, they were so caught up in each other it was like one of them started where the other one ended. Yumi couldn’t imagine what it felt like for either of them to be forcibly torn away from their other half, and what it would be like to come together again.“I think he’s coming back to you sooner than you think,” Yumi admitted. “But anyways,” she tried to brighten her voice, “why did it take so long for you to call me back?”“There were emergency meetings about Majima. I even got interrogated by the police yesterday. And I… had to get my affairs in order.”“Hm? Your ‘affairs’?” Yumi would sometimes forget that Kiryu was a CEO and the patriarch of a big-time family until he started using terms like that, “affairs.” “Why? Are you planning something?”“I’m resigning from Iron Trust and leaving the Tojo Clan.”
Friday, December 9, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
8:14
“You’re leaving?”Kiryu snapped his cellphone shut as he pivoted around toward the entrance of his office. Mine was standing there, holding a small stack of manila folders, the ones that Kiryu asked him to retrieve almost ten minutes ago.He didn’t think that Mine would deliver the files himself, and so soon, but Kiryu should’ve known better. It was Mine. The same person who would always knock on his door once the workday was over, like clockwork, to ask if he wanted to go out for drinks or to eat. Lately, Kiryu had even been saying yes more and more, even though his intuition always told him not to for some reason.“Mine,” Kiryu started. “I… didn’t want you to find out this way. I was going to make an announcement on Monday—”It didn’t matter that Kiryu had worked with Mine for about four years now, the man was still hard to read. Even now, with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curled in a snarl. He looked angry but he didn’t seem angry at the same time. And what would he be angry for, anyway? Despite some disagreements over the years, they had a decent enough boss-employee relationship, neither weak nor strong. Not something to get so suddenly angry about, Kiryu thought.“You—You’re leaving?” Mine repeated, as if the word was salivary venom. “Why?”“I feel like this chapter of my life is over.” That was the simplest way Kiryu could put it. “I’m just ready to move on to other things.”“Really? Is that why?” Mine threw the files on the floor. “What asinine reasoning.”“Mine,” Kiryu warned. Why was he getting so upset? Kiryu really couldn’t figure it out.“What gives you the right to abandon your responsibilities? You have over two thousand employees in this company and hundreds in your family. What gives you the right to just walk away—?”“Mine!”There was something that was crawling underneath Kiryu’s skin, and it was guilt. He knew it was guilt. Hearing it spoken aloud from Mine was making it worse. Over the week, Kiryu tried to convince himself that the feeling was misplaced, that he was allowed to do as he wished with his life just as any one else. But the weight of responsibility was immense. It was suffocating. He had to get away from it.Kiryu closed his eyes and let out a steadying breath before he spoke. He still felt angry heat sear beneath his skin, but yelling would get them nowhere. “I was going to tell you, after I got everything together.” Mine’s lips tightened, but at least he seemed to be listening. “I was going to ask you to be the new CEO, too.”Mine’s eyes widened. Not from shock, but from rage, born from an unknown place. “No,” he muttered. “You can’t do this.”“Mine—”His hands tightened, trembling at his sides. “You’re a coward, Kiryu-san. A coward with no regard for the power you hold. What is this? Some sort of futile attempt to ‘turn over a new leaf,’ to ‘put the past behind you’? You do not get to do that. You’re in too deep. The day that you ‘swore up’ to the yakuza and used your business as an organized crime front was the day that your future became irrevocable. You can never leave.”Kiryu was seeing red, could feel his heart give a furious stutter, but he stood his ground. No. He wasn’t going to lash out against his own employee, especially a civilian. Those days were behind him. If Mine was upset, then fine. He had every right to speak his mind.But so did Kiryu. “If you want to be the CEO, you can do whatever you want, Mine. If you want to cut off the business’s ties to the yakuza, do it. I’ll help you. If you want to shut the business down, do it. I’ll help you.” Kiryu’s heart wouldn’t still. “But I can’t do this anymore. I have to go. My time is done.”“Kiryu-san…” Mine stepped closer. Kiryu’s body automatically tensed, all defenses up. “Do you know why I joined Iron Trust? Why I wanted to work under you? My entire life, no one believed in me. Not until you came along. You know my story, and I know yours. I’ll spare the details. I was once an orphan and once betrayed by the people I thought I could trust. I thought I was meant to be alone from the moment I was born until the moment I die.“I thought you could change my mind. I was drawn to you because I wanted to understand why people die for other people, why people would do anything without question for other people, why people trust other people. But…” Mine shook his head with a scoff. He was an arm’s length away from Kiryu. “I was mistaken. This was a foolish endeavor. There is no such thing as true loyalty.”“Mine… Don’t say that. That’s not—”Kiryu saw the first punch coming. He let it happen. For some reason, he felt like he deserved it. He braced himself. Let himself feel the full impact. Mine’s fist against the center of his stomach.Mine was definitely stronger than he looked. If Kiryu hadn’t been prepared, he felt like it was possible that he would’ve gotten the wind knocked out of him.Fighting was second nature. Maybe some people would argue that it’s Kiryu’s first nature. It was subconscious. Like Kiryu could see the future sometimes. He could see the overhand punch before it happened, coming at the right. He blocked it with his left.Mine had an impressive amount of raw strength, but he wasn’t a fighter. When he went for a jab, Kiryu deflected on his left with his palm, hit a gut punch with his right hand. Not hard enough to seriously hurt Mine, but hard enough to definitely wind him – enough to make him stop fighting.Mine flew back to the doorway. His head just barely missed hitting the doorframe. He wasn’t knocked out, but he definitely wasn’t going to get up any time soon.“Mine,” Kiryu called out, hopefully for the final time. He rubbed his knuckles out of habit, even though they wouldn’t be sore after only one hit. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about, but that’s fine if you wanna be mad at me for whatever reason. If you don’t want to take over the company, that’s fine too. You can go to the news and tell everyone that this is a yakuza-affiliated business.” He was sure that everyone already knew that, though. If the Third Patriarch of the Dojima Family was the CEO, then surely some shady business would be afoot. But whatever. “You can do what you want. But I can do what I want, too. I’m leaving. That’s final.” God. He didn’t even fuss over his own child like this.Kiryu stepped over Mine as he left the room with a huff. He needed to cool down.Mine stayed on the floor, though. He couldn’t put into words what he felt in that moment. Actually, it felt like emptiness. Or maybe some sort of vague sense of astonishment. He didn’t know. And he didn’t care.As the air began to return to his lungs, as the pain traveled through his stomach, he thought back. Back to Kiryu’s phone call. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really. He had just been standing outside the door, waiting for Kiryu’s call to end before coming in, and then he heard it – “I’m resigning from Iron Trust and leaving the Tojo Clan.” And it was like Mine saw a flash of white.No. Back to the phone call. Don’t think about Kiryu leaving. Or else he would get “upset” all over again. Did Kiryu mention anything about why he was leaving?Mine remembered Kiryu sounded shocked about something. He then mentioned the names “Kazama” and “Nishiki,” asking about them visiting the caller, if someone was “different now,” waiting for someone, the clan’s recent emergency meetings centered around Majima Goro, and “getting his affairs” together because he was leaving.As Mine slowly sat up, he connected names to faces. “Kazama.” He knew of Kazama Shintaro, the Captain of the Tojo Clan, and a central figure in Kiryu’s life, being the proprietor of the orphanage that Kiryu had grown up in. In Mine’s research, the man was apparently a reputable assassin for the clan during the 1970s and 1980s, but Mine didn’t find Kazama to be all too interesting outside of his inherent connection to Kiryu.“Nishiki.” Mine had to think about it. The name sounded familiar. Ah. Right. Nishikiyama Akira. He was Kiryu’s sworn brother who was arrested in the mid-1990s for killing Dojima Sohei, their patriarch, the original patriarch of the Dojima Family. The Dojima Family that Kiryu was planning to leave soon. Judging from the phone call conversation, it seemed like Nishikiyama had been visiting the caller, which was what shocked Kiryu. It was safe to assume that Nishikiyama must have recently been released from jail, which Mine would surely look into once he caught his breath, and it was also safe to assume that Kiryu has not met with Nishikiyama yet.Was that the reason why Kiryu was suddenly leaving? Because of Nishikiyama’s assumed return from jail after ten years? Something equally as sudden would have to be the catalyst of such a decision. It was fitting. Mine leaned his head against the doorframe as he clutched at his stomach. It was laughable, really. Two sworn brothers getting reunited after ten years as a probable clan war was brewing beneath their feet. It was like something straight from the schmaltz of an old yakuza-eiga film. Asinine, indeed.The plan was simple: Mine just had to catch his breath, return to his office, and confirm or deny that Nishikiyama Akira had been released from jail. If so, the next plan was equally as simple: he must be stopped by any means necessary. Anything that was blindsiding Kiryu and holding him back from his responsibility was simply deadweight that needed to be eliminated as soon as possible.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Kamurocho
Shichifuku Street
10:41
Kazama had arranged for Nishiki and Yasuko to hide out in the Hotel District, in a nondescript love hotel room that hopefully no one would discover. He even gave Nishiki a new gun and cellphone.Nishiki exchanged numbers with Yasuko before telling her that he was going to buy more cigarettes. He couldn’t just sit around for hours twiddling his thumbs until Stardust opened. The anxiety would drive him insane. He left the gun with her, continued to keep his tanto tucked in his coat pocket, and he left.When he stepped outside of the hotel building, he took in a long, slow breath. He let the winter air enter his lungs, bite at his nose, numb his lips. He still felt like he hadn’t come to a decision yet, but. He was here. He was with Yasuko in Kamurocho. He was in Kazama’s hideout. He was going to Stardust tonight. He was going to ask if Kiryu wanted to meet with him.Cigarettes weren’t going to be enough. He needed a drink, too. And maybe a good kick to the head to make his brain stop screaming at him.As Nishiki stamped out his cigarette, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His hand reflexively reached for his tanto as he tried to glance over his shoulder as inconspicuously as possible.There was a group of salarymen behind him. Weird. Kinda early for a lunch break, wasn’t it? Or was that just the paranoia talking?One of the men, wearing an extremely plain looking black suit, pointed at Nishiki and said something to his group of men before they started running toward him. Shit. Nishiki knew salarymen assassins were a thing! Sometimes being crazy was correct!Fight or flight? Fight didn’t seem too bad if these guys were actually salarymen. But why would actual salarymen be after Nishiki? They had to be yakuza and-or assassins in disguise. And Nishiki’s heart violently rattled against his chest at the prospect. Memories of jail, of all the times he was nearly killed again and again and again, flashed before his eyes.So, his heart chose flight before he could even reconsider it.There had to be about five or six men chasing him down the street. When Nishiki turned a corner, he swore he saw maybe three more men join the chase. He was running along West Park now. Maybe he could shake them through there.A hand grabbed Nishiki by the shoulder, roughly pulling him to the ground. Blindly, he kicked at his attacker, aiming for the legs. But whoever grabbed him easily dodged the kick, with an exclamation of “Whoa, shit!”Nishiki, still on the ground, quickly swiveled his head around at the sound of the voice. It came from the left. He outright grabbed at the man’s legs and pulled him to the ground, too. This seemed to catch the man off guard. He came tumbling down.Nishiki grabbed at the man’s arms, intending to hold him down, but the man shoved him off – with his legs. And this guy’s legs were crazy strong. Holy shit. Nishiki damn near went flying. It took him a second to recenter himself.When he got back on his feet, he held his hands up ready to fight. But his attacker – a man in a half-done, expensive looking suit – did nothing. In fact, the man was just running his hand through his hair and looked annoyed. “Is this the thanks I get for helping a man in need?” The man stayed slouched down on the ground instead of moving to get up. “No good deed goes unpunished, huh?”
…What?
There was the sound of people running by on the right, surely Nishiki’s chasers. He cursed to himself as he took his eyes off the man on the ground and looked toward the street, which was obscured by an overhanging tarp.“Fuck! Where’d he go?!”“That was Nishikiyama Akira, right?”“It was! I swear! That man looked like the photo Mine-san gave us!”“Ugh! How are we supposed to get those promotions now—?!”Their voices trailed off as they kept running.The men didn’t speak with the too-familiar drawl of typical yakuza, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. They could’ve been some white-collar, rank-and-file type of guys who pushed pencils more than they pushed their fists and seized the opportunity when they spotted Nishiki. Who knows. And who were they working for? Who was “Mine”? Was he a new member of the clan that was seeking Sera’s “Kin Slayer reward”?“You’re Nishikiyama Akira, huh?”Nishiki’s head turned down to the ground, where the man who had pulled him in was beginning to stand up. Shit shit shit shit. Nishiki tightened his fists, dug his heels into his defensive stance.“Hey. Stop.” The man held his hands up. “How about we skip the ass kicking part and go straight to the part where we talk it out and reach a mutual understanding, huh? That’ll save time and energy for the both of us.”Nishiki grinded his teeth. “Who the hell are you?” he grunted out.“Akiyama Shun. Just another guy who got screwed over by the Tojo Clan.”“Sure you are.”“Oh? Believe what you want to believe.” Akiyama shrugged, nonperturbed. He even stuck his hands in his pockets. “I understand why you got the chip on your shoulder, Nishikiyama-san, but it’s not a good look. Can’t ingratiate yourself with anyone with an attitude like that.”This guy… really didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Which made no sense. Nishiki slowly lowered his fists but kept his guard up.He gave a quick glance around. It looked like he was in a homeless camp. There were tents, tarps, and unlit burn barrels condensed everywhere.“Did you forget me already?” Akiyama asked. His tone was annoyingly languid. “Figures,” he lowly chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to remember me, anyway. We only met once in passing.”“Huh?”Akiyama rolled his shoulders before he began to walk away. Nishiki waited until there was a considerable amount of space in between them before he slowly started to follow. What if this was a trap? What if there were a bunch of people hidden in the tents ready to jump him? Ready to kill him? He kept himself on high alert.“It was about two days ago,” Akiyama glanced over his shoulder at him as he continued to walk at a leisurely pace. “I think you were on your way to the train station. You dropped off a few bags of clothes here.”Nishiki squinted at the man. The memory came to mind, of the small group of homeless men who had jumped at the offer of the clothes he gave away. He could remember one of the men immediately started looking through the bags, too. Maybe the guy had longer hair, but Nishiki hadn’t been paying too much attention. Was it this guy?Now that Nishiki was looking at Akiyama’s clothes, it looked like he was wearing a Ralph Lauren suit – right down to a burgundy jacket that Nishiki wouldn’t be caught dead in.There must have been something about the look on Nishiki’s face that made Akiyama suddenly snap his fingers at him. “That’s the look of recognition I was waiting for. I’m hard to forget.” He gestured toward a tent, situated closely in between two other tents. There was a man sleeping on a pile of cardboard and weather-beaten blankets in front of the right-side tent. “Feel free to take a seat.” Akiyama let out a groan as he sat down on his own assumed pile of blankets.Nishiki stayed standing.“Suit yourself,” Akiyama murmured with a shrug. He looked relaxed enough.“Who are you?” Nishiki crossed his arms. “Were you part of the Tojo? I don’t remember you.”“Hey, no need for the hostility. You’re allowed to play nice around me.” This guy was pissing Nishiki off. Maybe he should’ve kicked his ass after all. “No, I wasn’t part of the Tojo Clan. I used to work at a bank. Touto Bank, the investment branch.”“Okay…?”“How about you spare the commentary for the end of my story, alright?” Akiyama snuggled further into his blanket pile. “I got fired in January for embezzlement, because they ‘discovered’ that I took one million yen from a client’s account and deposited it into my account.”“What does that have to do with the Tojo?”“What did I just say about letting me finish my piece before you start yours?” Nishiki rolled his eyes. “Of course, I didn’t steal the money. That isn’t me. Even the world’s dumbest man wouldn’t transfer stolen funds into their own account, under their own name. It was obviously a run-and-done setup. But,” Akiyama sighed, “I ran myself into the ground trying to figure out who set me up. That’s how I ended up here.”“Alright. Who set you up? Someone in the Tojo?”Akiyama clicked his tongue, but answered the questions. “I managed to figure as much out. Apparently, the Tojo was laundering money through Touto Bank and I was the fall guy. I can’t pinpoint who specifically in the clan called for my setup, though. Still trying to figure that one out.” He didn’t sound all too concerned, though. His voice continued to hold the same relaxed tone. Or maybe all the life had been sucked out of the guy and he was just tired. Understandable.“I really hit rock bottom,” Akiyama went on. “I lost everything. Can’t get a job looking like this, you know?” He nonchalantly pointed his thumb at the slumbering homeless man beside them, who admittedly looked worse for wear and strongly smelled of urine. It was just sad. “But suddenly, a generous donator gave me a little pick-me-up the other day, and now I can finally look the part. Clothes make the man, you know? At least now I can get my foot in the door for interviews again.” He humorlessly laughed to himself. “As long as they don’t ask Touto Bank about me.”What a cause and effect. Who would’ve guessed all of this would happen just from Nishiki giving away his clothes to a bunch of homeless men on a whim. “I guess… we both helped each other out,” he muttered in lieu of a thanks.“Sure, sure. Wanna tell me why you’re getting chased, or is that classified information?”“Since you ‘know’ me, you can take a guess on why.” Nishiki felt like lighting up again. He pulled out his cigarettes, paused, and offered the packet to Akiyama first. Akiyama didn’t hesitate before he accepted a cigarette and Nishiki’s lighter to light it up. “Do you know who those guys were?”“The guys chasing you?” Akiyama blew out a puff of smoke as he shook his head. “They didn’t look like Tojo, though.”“I thought so.” A beat passed as they both inhaled and exhaled around their cigarettes. “Who’s ‘Mine’?” Nishiki wondered aloud.“Mine? That sounds familiar…” Akiyama flicked his cigarette. The ashes landed outside of his blankets. “The only Mine I heard of is Mine Yoshitaka. He’s part of the C-suite of Iron Trust, the biggest real estate business here. It’s tied to the Tojo Clan, too. I ran into him once at a meeting, maybe two years ago. He’s a real cutthroat guy.” He lowly whistled. “You know what they say about the quiet types.”Nishiki’s mind was stuck on one thing: “Did you say Iron Trust?”“Yeah.”“Doesn’t… Kiryu Kazuma run that business?”“Yes, he does. Last I knew.” What the fuck? Why were Kiryu’s employees going after Nishiki? “Oh yeah. You and Kiryu-san go way back, don’t you two?”“Uh. Yeah.” Nishiki shook his head to himself. This was too much. He shouldn’t have come back to Kamurocho. “Mind if I lay low here for a second?”Akiyama shrugged. “Be my guest. Actually…” He sat up and pointed his cigarette ahead, toward a makeshift tent across from them. “You should pay one of my buddies a visit. He’ll make room for you.”“Uh, no thanks. I’ll just wait right here.”“No, no. I insist. It’s definitely someone that you wanna talk to.”“I don’t want to talk to anybody. I barely wanna talk to you—”“C’mon. Go pay him a visit. It’ll be worth your while.” Akiyama had a dumbass smirk on his face. “Trust me. You’ll thank me later.”“I doubt it,” Nishiki muttered.He couldn’t figure out the guy’s intentions. But they couldn’t be bad, right? This guy went out of his way to save him, despite even knowing who he was. And Akiyama seemed strong, too. Could’ve probably put up a decent fight and thrown him to the wolves if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He pulled him into safety instead. He took it upon himself to repay the favor.Nishiki stamped out his cigarette with a sigh and went toward the tent Akiyama pointed out. He was unfortunately curious. Why the hell did Akiyama think he would be interested in meeting this person?There was a shuffling sound behind him. Nishiki glanced back. It looked like the sleeping man next to Akiyama woke up. “Who’s that?” The man asked in a low grumble, wiping at his eyes.Nishiki heard Akiyama murmur, “Eh. Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep. I’ll get you something to drink when you wake up, alright?” And the man yawned, turned over in his blankets, and went back to sleep.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Kamurocho
West Park
10:46
It was dark inside of the tent. Nishiki tried to let some sunlight in by leaving the tarp slightly open. It absolutely reeked of cigarettes, beer, and something unnameable, enough to make Nishiki wrinkle his nose.There was a figure in the corner of the tent, shrouded in darkness, curled up on a pile of blankets. The person didn’t move once Nishiki took a cautious step inside. Were they sleeping?“I know it don’t look like much, but it’s still home for now,” the person lowly called out. “Ya just barge into everyone’s place like that? Kids these days got no manners, I’m tellin’ ya.”Nishiki gasped under his breath.The person sat up. There was a clicking sound and the tent lit up from a lamp in the far-off corner. It was Majima, laying on top of a worn-down, stained futon and pile of blankets, wearing an unkempt coat, pants, knitted hat, and scarf – all in tatters. The boots he was wearing had holes in them. If Nishiki hadn’t heard his voice, he would’ve thought he was just another homeless man from appearance alone.Majima’s eyepatch was even gone. He had his hat sitting low enough to touch his eyes. A doubletake was needed to even notice that there was something wrong with his eye, with it being closed and grayed over. (Nishiki had been expecting something more exciting, like a gaping hole or something. But this made more sense.)“Hm?” Majima sat up slightly, still all slouched over. “What’re ya checkin’ me out for? Ya wanted to be my bitch after all? I knew it was an offer ya couldn’t refuse.” He gave a smile that was really just a sneer.“What the fuck? No.” This was fucking insane. The whole Tojo Clan was probably on the lookout for Majima, and he was just hiding out in a homeless camp all along. Didn’t Kiryu do the same thing back in the day? It wasn’t a bad idea. No one would think to look here.Majima reached into his pocket and pulled out – not a knife, thank God – a packet of cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth and sat there, staring up at Nishiki for whatever reason. Nishiki didn’t move, didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to do. His heart was beating in his ears.After a beat passed, Majima made an annoyed sound. “Ya fuckin’ blind or something? The fuck are ya just standin’ there for? Light my shit up!”Oh, that’s what this was about. “I’m expelled. I don’t have to light anyone’s cigarettes anymore.”Majima grumbled to himself as he pulled out his own lighter. “Fuckin’ insubordinate. Fuckin’ eunuch,” he maybe muttered. “I oughta cut off yer other pinkie for talkin’ to me like that.” When he inhaled, exhaled around his cigarette, he made sure to blow the smoke directly in Nishiki’s direction. Nishiki didn’t budge. “Whaddya want, to chit-chat? Or did Kiryu-chan send ya here to drag me kickin’ and screamin’ to the HQ?”“No. I’m just… here. By myself.” What a lame explanation. Majima even rolled his eye.“Who’d ya bring with you? Gotta send in the cavalry if ya wanna take me out.”“No one. It’s just me.” Nishiki shifted his weight from foot to foot. Kazama’s words from earlier cut in and out his mind. He had to keep his cards to himself. He couldn’t mention Saejima or Yasuko, or Shibata and the Ueno Seiwa. It wasn’t time yet. They moved when Majima moved, and it didn’t look like Majima was moving right now. “I’ll forget you’re here if you forget I’m here. Got it?”“Yeah, yeah. Sure. You’re gonna run and tell Kiryu-chan ya saw me here, and he’s gonna smoke me out.” Majima cackled around his cigarette. “Sounds like a good time, though. I might even stick around for it, but I got shit to do. Big boy shit. Be sure to tell Kiryu-chan that when ya run back to him and report my whereabouts, alrighty?”“I’m not—Whatever.” Nishiki huffed. There was no point in insisting that he wasn’t working with Kiryu. Majima wasn’t going to believe him. He needed to get out of here. He had thought right. Majima didn’t take him seriously. What made Kazama and Yumi think that Nishiki had the capability to convince him to do anything?Nishiki put his hand on the tarp, prepared to leave without another word. Majima suddenly murmured, “Don’t think I ever told ya this, but I almost did it myself.”Nishiki paused. “Did… what?”“I almost killed that clown Dojima. Back in ‘88.” Nishiki’s hand fell and trembled. “Chairman stopped me. Said it wasn’t worth it. Somebody had to make Dojima bite the bullet eventually, though. Guy was a fuckin’ monster, a real deviant. I hope ya don’t got yer panties in a twist about offin’ him. Ya did a real good deed in my book—and a whole lotta other people’s books, too.”Majima was just trying to get under his skin, right? Nishiki swallowed down the lump building in his throat. “What about Shimano?” he fired back. “Did you ever try to kill him?”Majima didn’t look the least bit fazed, though. He only burst into laughter, loud and manic and sinister, like Nishiki told him a fucked-up joke. It was creepy as hell.Nishiki shook his head as he stepped out of the tent. He could still hear Majima laughing behind him. “I’ll see ya later, Nishikiyama! It’ll be real soon!” he called out in a cackle. “Tell Kiryu-chan I said hi!”Nishiki had fought Emperor Chūai in Tokyo Prison. He had fought Emperor Keikō in Tokyo Penitentiary. But how can an ordinary man stand amongst giants? How can an ordinary man kill two giants, and expect himself to have enough within him to defeat a great onryō, Emperor Sutoku? A man-demon who left demonic flames as footsteps and breathed out will-o’-wisps? Nishiki, the man, against Majima, the giant, was surely a fight that Nishiki would lose, over and over again.Because if Majima’s resentment made him become fire, Nishiki’s resentment made him disappear.
Sunday, April 4, 2004
Katsushika
Tokyo Penitentiary
4:44
Nishiki wouldn’t call his fight against Tokyo Penitentiary’s Prisoner 4444 a “fight,” really. It felt more like a dream. He thought he had been dreaming when it happened. He did to this day. Because the moment was so unreal.It started with alarms. Loud and blaring. It startled Nishiki from his sleep. The entire prison was lit up red. And the cell was unlocked. As if he was sleepwalking, Nishiki wandered out.He wandered out into the prison yard where almost all of the prisoners were. He walked in the middle of the chaos. It was raining, the pouring, thundering, lightning kind. But the thunder seemed like background noise in comparison to the mayhem unfolding in the yard.It looked like the entire prison population was in the yard – inmates and guards alike. There were inmates trying to crawl up the walls, looking like they were drowning in rainwater, having their legs pulled down by guards and other prisoners. There were prisoners fighting prisoners, prisoners fighting guards, even guards fighting guards. Blood sprayed in flashes of light. There were people knocked out and maybe dead on the ground, getting stepped on and over. It was Armageddon.In one flash, Nishiki could feel hot pain sear across his back. In the next, he saw a man behind him, holding a bloody knife.It was like some sort of primal fear took over him, an animal instinct inherited from the big brawl happening all around him, from the dark rain clouding his vision. Even if he screamed for help, no one would hear him. He was alone. He fought alone.Sometimes Nishiki would stab an abstract knife into his own stomach. Sometimes he was waiting for someone else to do it. But he remembered thinking, Not like this. Not like this where he could be another forgotten body, stepped underfoot. He couldn’t die at the bottom of the dogpile.In one flash, Nishiki had the knife in his hand. In one flash, he plunged it into the stomach of his adversary – the second Prisoner 4444 he encountered. But there was no feeling of survival. There was no feeling of victory. There wasn’t even a feeling of regret. No feeling of disgust. Nishiki killed another man, the third he killed intentionally, and in that moment, he felt nothing but emptiness.He collapsed afterward. He could feel himself bleeding out from where he had gotten deeply slashed in the back, could feel himself bleeding from where he got cut across his face and arms and chest. He fell on top of the body. Could feel the man bleeding out from underneath him, still alive in that moment, could feel the life leaving him. Could feel someone already stepping on his own back.Maybe the same would’ve happened to Nishiki, too. Maybe he would’ve bled out and died, too. Until he felt someone grab him, pull him out from the pile. He heard “Kyodai!” and all was well. Saejima’s voice. His protector. He closed his eyes at the thought as strong arms carried him away, shielded him from the rain.Two days later, the guards thanked him after the body was identified as Prisoner 4444. Nishiki said nothing back. The guards asked him if he had any requests, anything he wanted within reason. Nishiki said nothing still, then was sent back to his cell.
Thursday, December 8, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
11:50
One of his assistants lightly knocked on Kiryu’s office door, making him look up from the scattered papers all over his desk. The assistant greeted him with a deep bow before saying, “I’m sorry for the intrusion. You have two visitors who would like to request some of your time. They are detectives from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department who would like to speak with you regarding an undisclosed, recent incident. They said it is of great importance.”Kiryu could already feel a headache forming in between his eyes. The police didn’t just “visit.” He told his assistant to let them in. The sooner the police left, the better. He already had enough shit on his plate with trying to get both his company affairs and yakuza affairs in order in preparation to leave both, and with the clan concerned over Majima, too. What new shit was about to be thrown his way now?Two men subsequently entered the room. They looked like they could be in their forties to fifties. One was wearing a khaki trench coat. The other was wearing a gray suit. The one in khaki bowed his head as he entered, while the one in the gray suit crossed his arms, already frowning. Yeah, Kiryu was about to have a headache for the rest of the day.“Sorry for barging in without asking beforehand,” the one in the khaki said. “I’m Date Makoto,” he flashed his badge as he nodded toward his colleague, “and this is Sugiuchi Junji.” Sugiuchi also flashed his badge. “We’re detectives in the Homicide Division of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. We’re here to ask you a few questions and we’ll be on our way. Shouldn’t take too much of your time.”Kiryu blinked. They were homicide detectives? What were they interrogating him for? He wordlessly gestured toward the seats in front of him. Date gave a brief thanks before he sat down, while Sugiuchi continued to remain silent as he sat.A half-smile broke across Date’s face for some reason. “I can’t say I’m not a little brokenhearted right now. I thought you might remember me when I told you my name, but I guess it’s been ten years since we last met, Kiryu. I’m not surprised you forgot about me.”“When did we meet?” Kiryu asked. He thought back. “Date Makoto” did ring a slight bell.“I was a part of the Dojima case.” Kiryu’s blood ran cold. He tightened his fists against his desk, ruffling a few papers. Sugiuchi glanced at his clenched knuckles, but Date carried on, “I was the one who questioned you and your ‘kyodai.’” Date leaned back in his seat. “I gotta admit, the case always hung in the back of my mind ‘cause I knew there was more to the story than what your oath brother was letting me in on. Nishikiyama Akira, was it?” He shrugged. “But sometimes you just can’t get all the answers at once. You’ll drive yourself crazy trying to figure out the unknown. I heard he got out recently, right?”“What are you here for?” Kiryu brusquely asked.Before Date could speak, Sugiuchi gruffly said, “Let’s cut the small talk. How well do you know Majima Goro?”“I know him,” Kiryu carefully answered, because it would be foolish for him to deny that he didn’t know Majima. Even the average citizen of Kamurocho would know that. “Why?” Why would homicide detectives be curious about Majima? Wait… “Is… he dead?”“No, nothing like that,” Date quickly said. “We’re just curious about what he’s been up to lately.”“I wouldn’t know. He’s been doing his own thing.” Which was a nice way of putting it.“You don’t have any idea why he would blow up the Shibata Family office?” Date asked.“No.” Well, that was a half-truth. Due to the emergency meetings that Kiryu ran in and out of on Tuesday and Wednesday, he learned that Majima and Shibata had a connection – that the Shibata Family was responsible for his missing eye after the Ueno Seiwa Clan hit went wrong. But why exactly was Majima targeting them twenty years later wasn’t personal knowledge to Kiryu. Kazama and Kashiwagi had theorized it was possibly tied into Majima’s kyodai, Saejima Taiga, getting executed last Sunday and that Majima was seeking vengeance over those associated with the hit. But who really knew. “Aren’t you both homicide detectives? Shouldn’t this be a job for Organized Crime?”“We’re asking the questions here,” Sugiuchi said. “You got any idea where Majima could’ve run off to?”“No.” Even if Kiryu did, he wouldn’t tell them.“We heard he was last spotted leaving Kamurocho yesterday morning with his boys,” Date said. “Any idea where he could’ve gone?”That was just the same question. “No.”Sugiuchi huffed. “It’s like talking to a brick wall,” he muttered. Kiryu took it as a compliment. “What about Shibata Kazuo? He went MIA after the office bombing. Any idea where he could’ve gone?”“No.” Kiryu didn’t know Shibata. He saw him in passing at various meetings and gatherings, but never spoke to the man. He didn’t seem like someone Kiryu would want to associate with, anyway. There was something off-putting about him. He had the air of the kind of yakuza that Kiryu despised.“You really have no idea?” Date asked, which almost made Kiryu raise an eyebrow.“No. I don’t know Shibata,” he admitted. “I was never involved with the Shibata Family, either. I won’t be able to answer any questions about them.”Something about his response made Sugiuchi’s frown deepen, but Kiryu didn’t know why. Sugiuchi recrossed his arms as he said, “We found four bodies floating down the Arakawa River this morning, all shot to shit. Know anything about that?”“No,” Kiryu answered. “Are we done here?”Sugiuchi clicked his tongue. “What if I told you they were Shibata and three members of the Shibata Family? Would that pique your interest?”Kiryu thought about it. “If… you’re trying to ask me if Majima killed Shibata and his men, then no. Majima-san wouldn’t do something like that.”“You sure?” Sugiuchi leaned in slightly. “Seems like he got a good motive. Didn’t Shibata fuck him over during the Ueno Seiwa Clan hit? Twenty years later, he’s got a dead kyodai because of the hit and wants retribution. I’d say it makes sense.”As if Date read Kiryu’s mind, he said, “Sugiuchi worked on the Ueno Seiwa Clan assassination hit case back in ‘85.”Kiryu could only shake his head. “You know me, he knows Majima. Isn’t this a conflict of interest?”Date chuckled. “No. More like we need more detectives. We’ve been running in the same groups since the ‘80s, it seems like.” He folded his hands over the desk. “What makes you so sure that Majima wasn’t involved in the Shibata murders? You said you don’t know where he is. He could’ve run off, laid low, and killed them. And he’s probably planning to do the same with the Ueno Seiwa hit survivors. I mean, he blew up the Shibata Family office. I would say that shows a blatant disregard for the Shibata Family’s lives, don’t you think?”“That’s not something Majima-san would do,” Kiryu insisted. “There was no one in the office when it blew up. He waited for it to be empty.”“Is that right?” Date murmured.Kiryu knew he shouldn’t volunteer information to the police so easily, but it had to be said. “I don’t know who killed Shibata, and I don’t have an idea of who killed him, but it wasn’t Majima-san. That’s all I can say.”Date and Sugiuchi glanced at each other. Date stood up first. He fished out a business card from his pocket and flipped it on Kiryu’s desk, landing on a pile of receipts he had been sorting through. “We’ll get out of your hair. Give us a call if anything comes up. Thanks for your time, Kiryu.”Kiryu nodded toward Date. Sugiuchi stood up with a glare before he followed after Date. That guy seemed like a real piece of work. Whatever. They had the good cop, bad cop thing down for sure. Kiryu made a mental note to himself to mention this to Kazama later. Shibata and three Shibata men were dead and the police were sniffing after Majima? It seemed like the odds of a war brewing was increasing by the day.“Majima,” Kiryu muttered to himself. “What are you doing?”
Friday, December 9, 2005
Tachikawa
Tojo Clan Headquarters
19:22
Kiryu bowed before Sera with his hands, knees, and forehead touching the ground. “Third Chairman, I would like to resign from my position as the Third Patriarch of the Dojima Family and to leave the Tojo Clan.” When Sera said nothing, Kiryu went on, “My business, Iron Trust, can be used as an asset if a payout is necessary for my exit.”Sera still said nothing. Kiryu remained still, kept his head down. He couldn’t imagine what Sera was thinking or feeling. Sera was an understanding person, though. Even if he was surprised, he wouldn’t lash out like Mine had. (Hopefully.)After three or four minutes passed, Sera spoke up, “Is there anything that I could say to convince you to stay, Kiryu?” Kiryu firmly shook his head. “Are you leaving because Nishikiyama has recently returned from jail and he is expelled? Surely not.”Kiryu shook his head again, though he could feel his heart skip a beat. “I’m leaving due to… other personal reasons. I just feel like my time in the clan is done, sir.”“What if I asked for more than just your business? What if I asked for your finger instead?” Without hesitation, Kiryu held up his right hand, little finger out. He heard Sera huff, as if the sound came from his nose. “Look at me.” Kiryu picked his head up. “What if I told you that Kazama and I have been in talks to choose you as the Fourth Chairman come my retirement? Would that interest you in staying?”“No, sir.” The absolute last thing that Kiryu wanted to be was the chairman. “If I couldn’t handle my own family, I definitely can’t handle the clan.”“Hm…” Sera looked straight ahead for a moment. “You have certainly come a long way. The man I knew ten years ago, especially twenty years ago, did not have as much savoir faire as you do now.”Kiryu didn’t know what that meant, but he nodded. It was probably something good. “Thank you, sir.”“Losing an essential asset like you would be injurious to the clan. But one thing that has never changed about you is your iron willpower. If your mind is set on something, I know it has proven difficult to convince you otherwise. I will grant your exit but I would also like to make a final request.”“What is it?”“If the situation with Majima does cause turmoil, and does possibly lead to war, I would like your assistance on the matter.”“Yes, sir,” Kiryu agreed. Judging from the way Sera’s eyebrows slightly furrowed, he seemed surprised by Kiryu’s lack of hesitation. “The Tojo Clan has both given everything to me and taken everything from me, but I’ll still give back when I can because I’ll always be in debt to the clan. And I don’t know what’s going on with Majima-no-niisan, but I want to help him. He’s helped me over the years, too. It’s only right.”“I see,” Sera said. “Have you told Kazama about this?”“No, not yet.”Kiryu figured that leaving the clan would be the easy part, and telling Kazama would be the hard part. But what was weighing on his mind the most was the hardest part: meeting Nishiki again in the next two hours.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Kamurocho
Stardust
18:32
Nishiki hid out in the homeless camp for maybe an hour or two, long enough to share drinks with Akiyama and a few other homeless men. He gave a quiet thanks to Akiyama before he left, and Akiyama coolly waved him off.He then stayed his ass in the hotel until nightlife hours hit, like he should’ve done all along. He ate a quiet lunch with Yasuko, holding his tongue about Majima the entire time. When he left for Stardust, he was on high alert. Businessmen, yakuza, whoever – he was not in the mood to be chased again. He tightened his coat around himself as he walked down the street.Yuya was outside of Stardust, hustling at people who walked by. When Nishiki approached, Yuya looked him up and down. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” But he didn’t sound upset or anything. He sounded like he was in a good mood, actually. “You wanna work again? We’re not short-staffed tonight, so it shouldn’t be as bad as last time.”Nishiki shook his head. “I just came to ask Kazuki something. Actually…” He glanced around. The streets were too busy, and the neon-lit darkness didn’t obscure anything. “Can you pass along my message for me? I can’t stay long.”Yuya scratched the back of his head. “Uh, sure. What is it? You’re… kinda freaking me out, man.”“Just tell him I want to get in contact with Kiryu. And if Kiryu answers, tell Kazuki to call Serena and tell Reina what he said. I’m going over to Serena right now.”“Damn. That’s like a five-step request,” Yuya muttered. He still gave a thumbs up. “Got it. I’ll tell Kazuki-san right away.”“Thanks.” Nishiki gave him a nod before he headed toward Serena.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Kamurocho
Serena
18:55
Reina couldn’t hide how happy she was to see Nishiki again. It even brought a smile out of Nishiki. There were a couple of other people at Serena, but they were entertaining themselves in the lounge area. Nishiki stuck by the bar, sipping at the drink Reina automatically poured for him.She gently placed her hand over his after he finished explaining everything he could – meeting with Yumi, meeting with Kazama, and maybe meeting with Kiryu. “What do you want, Nishikiyama-kun?” she asked.“That’s a great question.” He took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know.”“Well, what don’t you want? Maybe that might be an easier question.”He didn’t want to die by anyone else’s hand other than his own. He didn’t want the weight of the Tojo Clan – especially Majima – on his shoulders. He didn’t want to be here, “here” as in both Kamurocho and here in general. But he wasn’t going to tell Reina all that. That would scare her off.So, he settled on, “I… don’t want to leave without seeing Kiryu again.” That’s what he promised himself on Tuesday, on his second day out. That he wouldn’t die without seeing everyone again one last time. He saw Reina, Kashiwagi, Yumi, and Kazama. Now it was time to see Kiryu. And that would be it.His thoughts from Tuesday echoed in his head: And maybe if he got the courage, he could fulfill Saejima’s last wishes, too. And then he could go to Yuko’s grave, use the tanto that Kazama had given him to slit his stomach open, and it would be the end. He was thinking that until Reina had knocked on the door, and everything has been twisted ever since. He didn’t know if he had the courage to fulfill Saejima’s last wishes. He didn’t know if he had the courage to even face Yuko’s grave, either.“Nishikiyama-kun?” Reina called out. Oh. He must’ve zoned out. He moved to finish his drink. “I’m sure you’ll see Kiryu-chan again soon and everything will be fine.”Whatever snappy remark that was resting on Nishiki’s tongue went unheard because the bar’s telephone rang. Reina patted his hand before she went to go answer it. “Hello. You have reached Serena. This is Reina speaking. How can I help you?” Her eyes suddenly widened. Nishiki sat up in his seat. What was wrong? “O-Oh okay. He’s right here, actually.” Her eyes flitted over to Nishiki. “Okay. I’ll be sure to tell him. Goodbye, Kiryu-chan.” She hung up the phone.Nishiki felt like he was going to pass out.“That was Kiryu,” Reina said, her hand still resting on the receiver. “He said to meet him at Fuchu-yu at nine p.m. tonight.”
Saturday, September 30, 1995
Kamurocho
Tenkaichi Street
10:07
Maybe Kiryu should’ve checked the weather before he left. He wasn’t expecting for it to rain today. He ducked into the nearest alleyway with his hands covering his head in vain. Hopefully it was one of those flash rains that only lasted for a little while. He had so much shit to do today. He already felt ready to collapse.“Well, well. Look who we have here.”Kiryu spun around. It was Nishiki, holding an umbrella. What a coincidence. He quickly ducked underneath it. “Thanks,” he muttered. He was nearly nose to nose with Nishiki. “Uh… hey.”That made Nishiki give a small laugh. “Hi.” He copied the dumbass inflection in Kiryu’s voice. “Aren’t you supposed to be running errands?”“Yeah, but it’s raining.”“Right, right.” Nishiki gave another small laugh. Since Kiryu was so close to him, he could see the slight redness to Nishiki’s cheeks – which was always a good look on him, in his opinion. But it was too good of a look. The sight always made Kiryu a little dizzy. He would take a small step back if he could, but he would be out of the umbrella’s reach.“Are you drunk?” Kiryu blurted out.“A little bit.” The smile on Nishiki’s face suggested that it was more than just a little bit. “Unlike you, I didn’t have shit to do today. Why not? Who doesn’t like day drinking?”“Hm… I guess so.”Nishiki looked warm all over. He looked good. Always Kiryu’s shelter from the storm, even literally. It was nice being close to him.They fell into idle conversation waiting for the rain to stop. Nishiki lit up a cigarette at one point. When Kiryu moved to get his own, Nishiki stopped him. He slowly inhaled around his cigarette before he held it up to Kiryu’s lips. Kiryu gave him a look, but accepted it. Good. When he wrapped his lips around it, Nishiki could feel his cheeks get warmer.This was how they kissed now and days. At least, it was a kiss in Nishiki’s mind. When they shared a cigarette, and Kiryu passed it back, and Nishiki could taste the lingering warmth from Kiryu’s lips on it, it was like a kiss. Maybe it was all they should do, could do. It was never enough. Nishiki wanted more, always wanted what he couldn’t have.But Nishiki also felt stupid lately. Stupid as in he’s been thinking stupid thoughts. Like last month, when he and Kiryu got wasted in Kiryu’s apartment, and they actually kissed. Made out with Kiryu tangling his fingers in his hair. Nishiki thought, I could do this every day. I could fall in love with this. And the thought terrified him. Made his stomach drop and sobered him up right away. He had to tighten his hand around Kiryu to distract him from his heart sinking.Nishiki felt stupid now. Why would he think that? He locked eyes with Kiryu as he took the cigarette back, chased after Kiryu’s lingering taste. Falling in love with Kiryu would be stupid. That was like falling in love with someone who you knew would break your heart. It was inevitable.“What do you want for your birthday?” Kiryu asked.“Hm? Why’re you bringing that up?”“‘Cause your birthday is in two weeks.” Kiryu suddenly blinked and looked away from him. Nishiki probably stared at him for too long. The rain was finally stopping, anyway.“I don’t know what I’ll want by then. That’s in two weeks.” Nishiki didn’t know what he wanted in the future. He couldn’t really picture it. That was like asking him to remember the face of his mother, which he couldn’t anymore. He liked to think she looked like Yuko, but that was just him filling in the blanks. Like he was doing now. “But I know what I want right now, though. Meet me at Serena tonight. When you’re done being oyasan’s errand boy.”Kiryu huffed but he agreed. Nishiki held up the cigarette to his lips again, and Kiryu accepted it again.They would meet tonight at Serena and drink and talk until Kiryu passed out from exhaustion and slept the day away at the bar counter. They would talk again the next night, with Kiryu holding on to Yumi and pleading for Nishiki to run away over Dojima’s body, with Kiryu promising to take care of Yuko for Nishiki as he got arrested. It would be the last time they would talk to one another for ten years. But for now.For now, they touched and went their separate ways.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Friday, December 9, 2005
Fuchu
Sunflower Orphanage
19:49
It took a one-hour train ride to get from Shinjuku Station to Fuchu Station. And just like that, Nishiki’s fingernails were bitten down to the nub and he was back in his “hometown.”He never truly thought of Fuchu as home. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure why he had found it easier to call Kamurocho home, either. Maybe because he wasn’t really “from” Fuchu. He was just transplanted there once his parents died.Nishiki’s hands clenched in his coat pockets as he took it all in – the unchanged green cityscape, the unchanged older buildings, the unchanged quietness. This was the place he grew up because he was forced to, because his parents died too soon and too suddenly and he no longer had a “home.” That’s what Fuchu was to him.He found himself slowly walking around, stalling and staving the inevitable – as always.When was the last time he was in Fuchu? After Yuko was moved from Fuchu Hospital to Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital in Ōkubo, there wasn’t really much of a need for Nishiki to visit all too often. Doubly so after Yumi moved to Kamurocho, too. So, he only did whenever Kazama nagged him and Kiryu to visit the new kids in the orphanage, to “not forget where they came from.” Maybe Nishiki last showed up some time in the early ‘90s, he couldn’t quite remember when or why. Probably around Christmas to give gifts to the kids or something.He walked past the arcade that Kiryu would frequent. (There was even a time in elementary school when Kiryu would play hooky and stay in the arcade all day. Back then, Nishiki thought Kiryu just really wanted to get the high score on Monaco GP. Looking back, it was because Kiryu kept failing his tests and had already given up hope on school.)He walked past the old clothing store he used to frequent as a kid. It was replaced by a different store now, one that sold girls’ clothes. (Nishiki liked the store so much because it had sold the flashiest clothes in town. Back when designer brands were a faraway dream. Hey, he dressed like a wannabe punk but made it good.Nishiki swore that one year in high school, when he tried out wearing baggy sportwear jackets, everyone started copying him to the point where it wasn’t cool anymore and he had to switch it up. He couldn’t believe he wore that shit, though. But it seemed like the look came back around this decade, judging from the outrageous puffer coat Daigo had the audacity to wear.)He walked past the old convenience store that he and Kiryu used to get snacks from. (It looked more or less the same. He wondered if the same old family still ran the place, if they still slept upstairs, if they still sold his favorite popsicle.)He walked past the forest where he and Kiryu used to sneak in stolen beer and cigarettes. (Kazama caught them one day. Of course. He said they were sixteen, so they might as well just do it in public. Which made the taste of beer and cigarettes a little sour to Nishiki because he couldn’t sneak off alone with Kiryu as much anymore.)He walked past the most expensive restaurant in town. (After moving to Kamurocho and getting a taste of Kobe beef, sushi with beluga caviar, and hot pot with longtooth grouper, the place didn’t seem as fancy anymore.)He walked past the park he, Kiryu, and their junior high friends used to hang out at. (And used to get in fights at.) He walked past a few evening food carts. (You see, in Fuchu there was such thing as “evening” venues that closed up around ten p.m. Kamurocho being 24/7 made it easy to forget that there were still towns where people liked to sleep at night.)He walked past the shrine. (He never went there too often unless Kiryu dragged him. Another “don’t forget where you come from” kinda thing. When Nishiki was younger, he found it pointless to pray to parents who had quickly faded from his memory. He knew it was the same for Kiryu, but Kiryu was molded by honor since forever.)He stopped in front of the orphanage.Sunflower always proved to be a resolute place. The exterior never changed too much since Nishiki was a kid. Just the interior and the people who ran it and the children who resided. Nishiki’s fingers twitched in his pocket. He wondered if his old caregivers were still around. Probably not. He wondered if the then-newer ones that came around in the ‘90s were still around. Probably. He wondered if new people he wouldn’t recognize were working there now. Probably so.Nishiki felt cold all of a sudden. Even colder. The misplaced feeling slowly crept down his spine. He shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here.A boy ran into him from behind, knocking into his arm. Nishiki managed not to fall over, but the kid wasn’t so lucky. Without thinking, he reached out and caught the boy by the back of his jacket before his face could meet the ground.“S-Sorry, sir!” The boy stuttered out as Nishiki righted him to his feet. The boy even bowed his head. “I didn’t see you there!” The kid had to be around ten years old and was bundled up in a thin jacket and matching muffler. “Sorry!” The boy had a loud voice, too. It was too dark and quiet for all that.“It’s fine,” Nishiki muttered. He should be on his way, anyway.“Taiyo-kun, what’s all this yelling about?”Nishiki looked forward. The orphanage doors were slightly open, and an old man leaning heavily against a cane shuffled out. He could see a few kids peeking at him from the doorway behind the old man, hopefully more so with curiosity than fear.The boy, Taiyo, raced up to the older man. “Umeki-ojisan! I accidentally bumped into that guy!”“‘That guy’? Sheesh. Where’re your manners?” The old man, Umeki, flicked Taiyo’s forehead, but Nishiki could tell the touch was light. “Did you apologize?” Taiyo nodded. “Alright.” Umeki patted the boy’s head. “Go inside. And learn to be quieter, yeah?” Taiyo then scuttled off inside, followed closely by the kids who were peeking through the doorway, all of them chattering amongst themselves.Umeki let out a long breath. “You, come here,” he called out. Nishiki automatically followed despite the cold feeling seeping into his fingertips. Old habits die hard. “Hm…” Umeki squinted up at him. “Who might you be? I’m guessing you’re an out-of-towner. Not many folks walk past here at night unless they’re exploring.”Oh. Nishiki could see the problem now, why the moment of recognition wasn’t mutual. Umeki’s eyes were grayed and clouded over. Looked like glaucoma if Nishiki had to guess, and it looked like the man was blind now. It seemed like his perpetually bad vision had won over after all.“Um, Umeki-san.” Nishiki bowed his head, anyway. “It’s me. Akira.”Umeki’s eyes widened. When he reached out, he grabbed at Nishiki’s forearm as if he had perfect clarity. “Akira-kun? Is that really you?”“Y-Yes. It’s me.”Umeki nearly dropped his cane as he reached out toward Nishiki’s face. His fingers traced over Nishiki’s nose, his eyes, his lips, his cheeks, his scars. One half of Nishiki’s brain was on fire, feeling the hot shame of intrusion. One half of his brain was quiet, watching as Umeki’s eyes began to tear up. “I wish I could see you,” he murmured. He pinched at Nishiki’s cheek. “But I can tell you look the same, though.”Denial was ready on Nishiki’s tongue, but he was being pulled into the orphanage, and he couldn’t breathe for a second.Umeki was one of Sunflower’s caregivers when Nishiki was a kid. He took part in helping raise and take care of Nishiki, Yuko, Kiryu, and Yumi. (Nishiki occasionally thought he would’ve been better off if he internalized Umeki as a parental figure rather than Kazama, but that’s a what-if for a rainy day.)During the time when Nishiki, Yuko, Kiryu, and Yumi were kids, there were two male caregivers and one female caregiver – all pretty up there in age, even back then. Umeki had to be in his eighties or nineties now. Damn. What was he still doing here?It made Nishiki wonder what the other two caregivers from when he was a kid were up to. He heard the old woman moved to the countryside to live with her children and grandchildren in the early ‘80s. He hadn’t cared too much for the other old man after he snitched on Nishiki and Kiryu to Awano in ‘88 and disappeared. But Nishiki hoped he was doing well now, if he was still alive.A sudden blast of heat tried to warm Nishiki’s still-cooling skin. It looked like the orphanage finally got a major upgrade with the heating system. He could remember the stress of the coldest days of winter, when everyone huddled around the few space heaters they had for the night, all bundled up in piles of thick blankets. (It was the first time Nishiki realized that Kiryu was a human portable heater. Even as kids, he always seemed to radiate heat. Good for long, winter nights.)“Sit, sit,” Umeki beckoned toward the kitchen table. They would always get the same large wooden tables, more or less. Big enough to serve dozens of kids and then some.A couple of kids were eating snacks in the corner, paying no mind to Nishiki, caught up in a conversation about if they should adopt a dog or cat for Christmas. (The kid Taiyo was really adamant about getting a dog, which kept making a couple girls – who wanted cats and a quieter discussion – shush him.)Nishiki cautiously hovered by the table, not sitting. Just in case. But as he watched Umeki effortlessly walk around the kitchen, there was no need. The old man was moving around like it was nothing. He collected a couple of small, pastel ceramic cups with white bears and bunnies painted on the sides, poured some tea from a simmering pot on the stove, and set down both of their cups as he sat. Nishiki sat as he quietly thanked him and took a sip of his drink. It was green tea, the kind mixed with sugar for kids to cut back on the earthy taste.Umeki’s eyes still looked sad. It was getting hard to bear. “Let’s see. I haven’t seen you since…” He snapped his fingers and smiled. He was always missing a bottom tooth since Nishiki was a kid. Now he was also missing a top tooth. “When I left, back in ‘91.”Now that Nishiki thought about it, that was the last time he ever visited Fuchu, the last time he ever visited Sunflower. He remembered now. It was for Umeki’s going away party. He was supposed to be retired. “Why’d you come back here?”Umeki suddenly laughed before he clicked his tongue. “Akira-kun, you still don’t cut corners with your words. Some people’ll think you’re rude, y’know?”“Sorry,” Nishiki muttered. He felt like a kid again for sure. But if Kazama made him feel like a kid getting scolded, then Umeki made him feel like a kid who got a solid pat on the back and set on his way.“I came back a couple years ago. Got diagnosed with cancer a while back.” Umeki waved his hand, as if he could sense Nishiki’s quiet shock. “It’s nothing. It’s life. Just wanted to spend my last days doing what I love instead of sitting around and waiting for death.”“R-Right…” Nishiki wrapped his hands around his cup, tried in vain to warm his fingers through his gloves, but he was starting to feel colder.“What’ve you been up to, Akira-kun? I don’t think I ever heard you this quiet before.” The corners of Umeki’s eyes crinkled as he smiled again, wider. “Finally growing up, hm?”“I… guess so.” Nishiki cleared his throat. “I haven’t been up to anything since I got out.” It felt like a half-truth, half-lie. Technically, in a general sense, Nishiki hadn’t been doing anything over the past week but get tossed back and forth between people of the past and present, between the searing thoughts of his mind.“Eh? Since you got out where?”Nishiki nearly choked on his tea, could feel the lukewarm surprise slide down his throat. He just assumed that Umeki would know he had been to jail. Random strangers knew Nishiki went to jail. Haruka, a little girl, managed to deduce on her own that Nishiki had been in jail. Nishiki never would’ve considered there would be someone who wouldn’t know. He accepted that it was apparently an “obvious” thing. It was like Nishiki’s pain and suffering was branded across his forehead. Shit, it was marked across his skin. But…But after Umeki touched his face, felt his scars, he said, “I can tell you look the same.” Nishiki sniffed as he looked down. Again, he felt a semblance of normality. Again, he was scared of the feeling.Luckily, Umeki started talking again and didn’t take his silence to heart. “Don’t tell me you’re still running around with those yakuza punks?” Nishiki glanced toward the corner, but the kids were long gone. “I told you to stay out of that mess. I never liked those people.”Nishiki couldn’t help but snort at that. “What about Kazama-no-oyasan?”“Eh. It’s too late for him. He’s a lost cause.” Umeki waved his hand away. “At least he pays me on time.” He took a tepid sip of his tea. “What about you? What brings you here?”There were a million ways to answer that question, and they all felt wrong. Nishiki took a long sip of his drink as he considered it. “I’m visiting Kiryu,” he admitted, and he felt his hand tremble. “He wanted to meet here.”“Ah, Kazuma-kun. How’s he doing? I haven’t seen him in… Hm, maybe a year or so?”“He still visits?”“Yes. He usually drops in around Christmas and gives some gifts to the kids. Always sending money, too.” Of course he does. “You two must be visiting the onsen, huh? Sounds good right about now, since it’s getting colder by the day.”Nishiki felt his lips twitch, wanting to smile but he was too anxious to. “How’d you know?”“I know everything! You two were always running off there. I swear, you two were the only ones keeping the place in business.” Umeki chuckled. “It feels good to know you and Kazuma-kun are still close. Some things never change, huh?”Nishiki remained silent.A beat passed. One where Nishiki felt his heart begin to sink with the realization that it was soon, he would be meeting with Kiryu soon. But Umeki, unknowing, smiled to himself as his eyes glanced away at nothing, at blissful ignorance.He tapped a finger against his empty cup, against the nose of a painted bunny. “Your sister made this, y’know? It’s still holding up after all these years.”Nishiki sniffled again, blinked back the tears. If Umeki heard, he spared him from mentioning it. “Really?” Nishiki looked at his own cup, at the painted bears, and suddenly remembered that Kiryu made the cup and Yumi painted it. Nishiki couldn’t remember making a cup, too.Umeki hummed to himself. His eyes were hazed over. He was wearing a thick wool, brown sweater. He had an obviously pained stiffness to his shoulders. He was probably going to die soon, maybe in less than five years.A kid suddenly came running in, a girl who couldn’t be older than five, crying that another girl had stolen her favorite blanket. Umeki smiled as he slowly stood up, grabbed his cane, excused himself, and allowed the kid to lead him down the hallway to the bedrooms. And Nishiki had never seen the man look happier.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Fuchu
Fuchu-yu
20:23
Nishiki glanced at the clock behind the innkeeper’s head. He had thirty-seven minutes before he was set to meet Kiryu. He tried not to think too hard about it.Since the business with Fuchu-yu was so slow, walk-ins and asking for a room on the same night wasn’t discourteous. When Nishiki and Kiryu entered junior high, they enjoyed relaxing there for the night – sometimes with Yumi and Yuko tagging along. It was just nice to sleep somewhere that wasn’t the orphanage sometimes. Plus, the old woman who ran the place doted too much on Nishiki and Kiryu, and let them stay in the ryokan for discounted prices and always made them breakfast even when they didn’t order any.The old woman was gone now, though. There was a young woman, maybe in her thirties, checking Nishiki in now. “Oh, Nishikiyama-kun?” The woman said. “I didn’t realize it was you. My apologies. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”“Huh?” Nishiki dumbly said. Then it clicked. This was the old woman’s granddaughter. He remembered her helping around the ryokan and onsen at times. They had gone to different schools. She went to the technical schools if he was remembering correctly. But he couldn’t remember her name. “Oh yeah,” he said just as dumbly. “I’m guessing that your grandmother…?”The woman nodded with a gentle smile. “She lived a long, happy life. I’m sure she would’ve been glad to see you again.” The words weren’t niceties. She probably would’ve. The woman moved from behind the desk to lead him to his room. “Kiryu-kun hasn’t arrived yet, but I’ll be sure to let him know that you have when he does.”“R-Right.” Nishiki’s lips were growing numb.She bowed as she stopped in front of his room. Or, his and Kiryu’s room. “Please, make yourself comfortable. The onsen is empty at the moment, so you’ll have it all to yourself.”“Thanks,” he murmured.“Please, let me know if you need anything. I will be at the desk.” She bowed again before she left.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Fuchu
Fuchu-yu
20:30
Nishiki could feel his mind slowly blank as he sat and showered himself down, alone in the hot springs bathroom. He had about thirty minutes until he met Kiryu. He didn’t feel nervous anymore. He didn’t feel anything. He felt like he had fallen from his body.He glanced up at the mirror in front of him, slightly fogged over. Nishiki hadn’t really looked at himself recently, just some quick glances here and there. He used to be so vain. It was laughable now. He used to spend hours looking at the mirror, doing his hair, making sure his clothes laid perfectly on his body. Now – the person looking back at him was almost a stranger.Nishiki still looked like himself, but he looked like a version of himself that he never wanted to see. At least he was looking now. Best to when his mind had gone numb and he couldn’t think too hard about it. His hair was longer, not styled. He hadn’t touched a hair product in ten years, just the bare necessities of shampoo and conditioner. He hadn’t thought to get any other products over the week. The old Nishiki would’ve been horrified by the fact, surely. The new Nishiki only absently ran his fingers through the wet ringlets of his hair. It was still naturally soft.Suffice to say, he didn’t like the scars on his face. But now, in some sort of detached sense of clarity, he knew they would heal over time. The scars he had gotten in ‘95 and ‘96, when he just got thrown in jail, were mostly healed over. It was just a particular scar that stretched across his nose that was more deep-seated and proved to be persistent. He didn’t remember how he got it. Too many people had slashed makeshift knives across his skin for over a decade.(It was his body that was more so fucked and unsalvageable. It was more so scar tissue than skin that trailed down his neck, across his chest and stomach, and spread behind his back. At least it wasn’t his face, he guessed.)But his eyes held a darkness to them, inside and around. He looked tired. He looked sad. He looked scared. All feelings that were easier to hide years ago, but they were all too apparent now.What is Kiryu going to think of me? Nishiki couldn’t even feel nervous at the thought anymore. He made his way into the onsen and sank himself into the hot waters. What is Kiryu going to say to me? At least he felt himself getting warmer. This was better. What is Kiryu going to do to me?Sometimes whenever Nishiki bathed – whether in the hot springs or in a bathtub – he would wonder how long he could hold his breath until his death. He wondered what drowning was like. He wondered if it was a good way to go out. He would wonder it often when he was a kid.He couldn’t remember his parents, but he could remember the impact of their abrupt absence. He could remember being a kid and wanting to hold his head underwater. He could remember being a teenager and looking back and realizing it wasn’t normal to think that as a kid. He could remember becoming an adult and still feeling the same way.He leaned down into the water until it reached his neck, reached his chin. He could end it all here. He didn’t have to meet Kiryu. He didn’t have to do anything. He could close his eyes. He closed his eyes now. He listened to the water settling around him. He listened to his breath leave his nose. He listened to nothing.Until almost thirty minutes passed, and he got out of the water. He couldn’t stall any longer.
Friday, December 9, 2005
Fuchu
Fuchu-yu
21:00
Nishiki’s hands shook when he dried himself. His hands shook as he retied his yukata. He didn’t bother with blow drying his hair. He didn’t even bother with moving it out of his face. He walked to the room – his and Kiryu’s – as if in a daze, because he was in one. The soak in the hot springs didn’t relax him. It left him feeling dizzy and heady in a bad way. A nauseous feeling was even starting to creep up his throat.It took Nishiki a second, when he opened the door to the room. It took him a second to realize that the door leading outside across the room was open. To realize that there was a person sitting on the engawa porch, looking out into the night, smoking a cigarette, ashtray near the hip. To realize that it was Kiryu.Kiryu froze, halfway to tapping his cigarette against the ashtray, when he heard the door slide open – but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t look like he was breathing. Nishiki wasn’t, either.Nishiki didn’t know how long he stood there, how long he stared at Kiryu’s back, until he finally turned around. It was slowly. It was like eternity passed within a minute. Kiryu’s cigarette fell from his fingertips when they locked eyes – for the first time in ten years, for the first time since that night.Nishiki didn’t know when or how he sank to his knees, but he knew why. He was still dizzy, but it was also an emptying feeling. He could feel his heart beating against his chest, but his mind wouldn’t move. As if it was frozen in time. As if it didn’t believe that Kiryu was right there, in front of him, looking him in the eye.Kiryu, despite his stature, always had an oddly light footfall. That didn’t change about him. When he stood up, slowly walked to Nishiki, his footsteps were silent. Nishiki wouldn’t have known he was approaching if his eyes weren’t transfixed on him. On Kiryu getting closer, closer, closer. On Kiryu kneeling down in front of him. On Kiryu’s knee touching his own.Kiryu looked the same. That was the thing about Kiryu, he never changed. For better or worse, he was always going to stay the same. Nishiki knew that. There was a darkness and more lines underneath Kiryu’s eyes now, too. The mark of an older, exhausted man. But the unshakable warmth of his eyes, the soft downturn of his lips, the constant furrow of his eyebrows – it was all the same.It was Kiryu who made the first move. His hand reached toward Nishiki, then stopped. As if he didn’t realize he had reached out. But he closed his eyes, tightly – that didn’t change. Kiryu always did that when he was deeply thinking. When he needed to recenter himself. When everything was too much.Nishiki didn’t mean to, but he flinched when Kiryu touched him. He touched at the opened side of his yukata, just barely, not even meeting skin. But Kiryu snatched his hand back as if he had been burned. His eyes snapped to Nishiki’s again, searching for something. Surely searching for something that Nishiki couldn’t give.It was Kiryu who broke the silence, too. “Am…” The low hum of his voice was the same. The soft tone, too. Nishiki let out a silent gasp at the sound. He didn’t know why. “Am I dreaming?” Kiryu asked, barely above a whisper.It certainly felt that way. Nishiki felt like he was dreaming, too. He couldn’t believe that Kiryu was the one who reached out first, the one who spoke first, the one who was crying first. Nishiki couldn’t believe he was going to be the reassuring one for Kiryu first.“No,” Nishiki said, also in a whisper. “You’re—” The tears began to fall from Kiryu’s eyes. Nishiki could feel his own tears then. “You’re not dreaming,” he managed to choke out. He had to say it while he could: “Kiryu.” He had to say his name, to make sure he was real, too.“Nishiki,” Kiryu said back, his voice catching at the end.No one has called him “Nishiki” in ten years.Kiryu reached out again. Nishiki tried to still himself this time around. Kiryu touched at the opening of his yukata again, then let his fingers trace down his arm, until he reached his hand. Gently, slowly, he took Nishiki’s hand into his own. Nishiki didn’t realize he was balling his fists, that his knuckles had turned white, until Kiryu opened his hand.Kiryu let out a quiet sound under his breath when he traced a thumb over Nishiki’s palm, over his missing little finger. Maybe Nishiki spent too much time lamenting over his face, because the palms of his hands were worse, were completely scarred all over. Old white lines and new lines, angry red and ready to bleed, cut across everywhere. “Nishiki,” Kiryu murmured, and he sounded so fucking sad that it actually hurt.“Sorry,” was all Nishiki could think to say. He didn’t know what he was apologizing for. For the state of his hands? For making Kiryu sad? For the guilt that was bubbling up in his throat? For fucking everything up?Kiryu shook his head. He held Nishiki’s hand in his, used his other hand to reach out again. He went past the opening of the yukata and touched Nishiki’s chest. Nishiki held his breath, looked down and watched as Kiryu’s hand traveled slightly down his chest, toward his arm, toward his stomach. It didn’t feel real. The touch was so light, but Kiryu’s hands were as warm and calloused as ever.Kiryu suddenly laughed, a short, quiet sound. Too humorless, too sad, too watery. Nishiki’s eyes snapped up to his. “You lost your muscle,” he said, voice a little louder. He sniffed as he squeezed Nishiki’s bicep then his hand. “I thought all people did in jail is exercise. What happened?”Nishiki sniffled. “Shut up.” It wasn’t so bad. He could barely breathe, but it wasn’t so bad. He squeezed Kiryu’s hand back, had to look down again.He couldn’t believe his ears. Couldn’t believe that Kiryu was talking to him, even trying to joke with him. It was so stupid. This couldn’t be happening. He could feel his shoulders tremble. He could feel a sob working its way through his body, as if something snapped. Before he knew it, he was openly crying.“Nishiki,” he heard Kiryu say, but he could tell it was only to say his name. He could feel a hand on his back, in between his shoulders, rubbing up and down. Kiryu wasn’t the type to cry like this. It used to be humiliating to Nishiki, whenever he got like this and Kiryu never did. But he had been crying so much this week, just about every day. It didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter for a long time.Fingers began to work their way through Nishiki’s hair. Kiryu pulled him in, just a little, until Nishiki’s head was on his shoulder, until he pressed his eyes against his neck and shoulder, until Kiryu could do the same.They stayed like that for a long while. Until Nishiki’s crying managed to simmer down. Until they were in a semblance of an embrace. Because they didn’t hug, not really. They always just fell into each other. Their hands remained connected. Nishiki was sure he left tears stains on Kiryu’s yukata, and vice versa (but not as bad, of course).“I missed you.” Nishiki shook his head. He couldn’t be hearing this. Kiryu didn’t say things like that. “I did,” Kiryu said. Maybe he would’ve sounded defensive under a different light. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you—”“No…” Nishiki pulled away. Because it was Kiryu, and Kiryu always meant what he said. There were no false pretenses. There was never any hidden, underlying meaning to his words. When he said I miss you, it wasn’t to charm. It was only because he missed you. When he said I couldn’t stop thinking about you, it wasn’t to flatter. It was only because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It just made it harder. “Don’t say that—”Kiryu squeezed Nishiki’s hand, but he refused to look up. “I did. And… I’m sorry. For everything.”“No. What?” Nishiki shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who fucked everything up.”“But if I had been there sooner—”“Let’s not play the blame game, Kiryu.” It was Nishiki who held all the blame, anyway. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “But I… I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I shouldn’t have…” It was so stupid. “Remember when I said we should cross the line together? I can’t believe I said that. I made you promise me not to leave me behind, but I left you behind.” An equally as humorless laugh as Kiryu’s came out of Nishiki’s mouth. “I shouldn’t have gone off and killed Dojima. I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have made that decision for everyone. I can’t do shit on my own.”“Nishiki…”“I can’t.” Every time Nishiki went off on his own, tried to make a decision on his own, bad things would happen. He should’ve known better. “I should’ve talked to Yumi or you or Kazama-no-oyasan—or… or something. I don’t know. I shouldn’t have done that.”“Do… you regret it?”Nishiki looked up. Kiryu was already looking back at him, eyes rimmed red from crying. He hadn’t wiped away his own tears yet. Without thinking, Nishiki reached out and wiped away Kiryu’s tears. It felt like Kiryu leaned into his touch. “No.” The answer remained the same. He told Kiryu what he told the Dojimas: “I only regret how it affected everyone.” But a new thought popped into mind, addled by Majima. “Maybe… I regret not doing it sooner. Before he got to…” Yumi. Everyone before her.Kiryu didn’t say anything for a long time. That was fine. More solace could be found in the silence than suffocation. As the seconds ticked past, the surrealism of the moment seemed to slowly slip away. Kiryu was here. He wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t a hallucination. He wasn’t leaving. He was here. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t letting go of Nishiki’s hand, because reaching out and touching him ensured that he was real for him, too.The room didn’t feel so cold. Despite the door leading outside being open, letting the piercing winter air of the night inside, Nishiki didn’t feel the same despairing cold in his fingers anymore.Kiryu suddenly moved to his feet. Since he was still holding on to Nishiki’s hand – tightly, as if Nishiki was going to run away – Nishiki was moved to his feet, too. “Shit. Are you trying to pull my arm off?” he muttered, no real bite to his voice. Even if the force of the pull might have been unintentional, it felt like Kiryu didn’t lose any of his strength over the years. He probably even did the impossible and somehow found a way to get stronger.Kiryu didn’t loosen his grip, though. In fact, he moved to properly intertwine their fingers. It was weird, because they had never properly held hands before – maybe Nishiki grabbed Kiryu’s wrist here and there to tug him along in public, maybe Kiryu would occasionally fall asleep while playing with Nishiki’s fingers in private. But – it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad, holding hands. It was just different.As Kiryu huffed and led Nishiki to the engawa, Nishiki thought maybe Kiryu was a little different after all. Different in his composure, that is. He wasn’t so tactile before, so willing to reach out and touch Nishiki unprompted.Obviously, Kiryu’s life was different – being a high-up patriarch, running a big-time company, getting married, getting divorced, having a kid. But… Was it a senseless thought for Nishiki to not expect Kiryu to change all that much? Was he just clinging on to some sort of false hope to make himself feel better?Probably. Nishiki was always holding on to something or someone.Kiryu finally let him go as he sat down and moved to stub out his still-burning cigarette in its ashtray. The porch overlooked a small garden that wrapped around the ryokan, not dissimilar to the orphanage’s.Nishiki looked out over the garden as he sat, only an arm’s length away from Kiryu. Their room’s lantern softly illuminated a red-orange glow that just barely reached outside. He could make out bushes sporting winter peonies, petals white and maybe a little pinkish. It could’ve been a trick of the light, though.It felt like holes were being bored into his skin. Nishiki glanced at Kiryu, who was already looking at him. Kiryu didn’t tend to stare like this, either. Even though it was understandable now, it was always off-putting whenever he did it.“What?” Nishiki asked. He forced a laugh out as he pointed to his face. “Not as good-looking as I used to be, huh?”Kiryu only blinked, face blank, not taking the bait.“When Reina visited me, I almost turned her away because I didn’t want her to see my face.” Nishiki was aware that he was rambling. It was just another way to stave the inevitable. “I guess I took my looks for granted. I didn’t think I could ever look like—” He pointed all around his face, looking away. “—this.” If anyone would be hypothetically disappointed, it would be Kiryu. Nishiki was no longer the “pretty boy” he used to drunkenly fawn over.“I think you look cool,” Kiryu spoke up. “Like Kashiwagi-san.”Now, that made Nishiki laugh. Genuinely, shockingly. “You sound like a kid, man.” It reminded him of what Kiryu told him when they were kids, after he dressed up as a girly guy character for a play and it was like Kiryu’s eyes bulged out of his skull. It was a bittersweet memory.A slight half-smile appeared on Kiryu’s face. “So do you.”Shit. He was right. When was the last time Nishiki said “man”? Probably the last time he talked to Kiryu.“Have you talked to Kashiwagi-san?” Kiryu asked.Nishiki really wanted a beer. Maybe he should’ve bought some from a convenience store or went to a bar before coming over.“Uh… No, not really. I saw him but couldn’t really talk to him. The family was around.”“Hm.”Kiryu seemed to be on the same wavelength, because he reached over on his side of the engawa and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter that Nishiki hadn’t noticed. He held a cigarette between his teeth as he lit it, breathed in, breathed out, then offered it to Nishiki.On another day, Nishiki would’ve smirked, would’ve made a comment about Kiryu stealing his own trick, the so-called “indirect kiss” via cigarette method. But Nishiki felt spent already and they haven’t even really started talking yet. He didn’t feel like he deserved to taste the lingering warmth of Kiryu’s lips, but God. It’s been so long. It was selfish, but he chased after the craving.A beat passed as Kiryu lit his own cigarette. He sighed, the breath gray and condensed. “I don’t know where to start,” he murmured.One part of Nishiki, the part that preferred to hide, wanted to say that they didn’t have to talk. They didn’t have to do anything. They could just sit there and pretend like no time had passed and become one with the night. They could pretend they were kids again and there was no blood on their hands and the future was still limitless. They could pretend they hadn’t left Fuchu at all, and took Kazama’s advice not to join the yakuza, and just lived normal, nothing lives – boring, but for the better.Another part of Nishiki thought back on Yumi when she said they needed to talk. “The sooner we do it, the sooner we’ll get it over with.” Did Nishiki feel better after their talk? He had felt like rubbed raw skin afterward. Like a bandage that had been ripped off, taking a chunk of skin with it – but at least the band-aid was gone, at least the skin was able to breathe again.There was no moving forward if there was no looking back. Yumi taught him that. It made Nishiki’s stomach flip, but he forced the words out in a low mutter, “Start with Kazama-no-oyasan.” Because all roads led to him.“Oyasan?” Kiryu repeated. “Hm… I was on the phone with him on the way here.”He paused, which made Nishiki say, “Oh yeah?” He couldn’t mask the tension.“I called Yumi this morning and she told me you visited her. I… was shocked. I forgot to ask her how you found her. Oyasan said he sent you there.”Nishiki snorted. “Yeah. I didn’t know that was Yumi’s address, though. He tricked me.” If he had known beforehand, would he still have gone? Who knows. He figured he would meet with Yumi eventually, but not so soon.He could feel Kiryu’s eyes on him again, but Nishiki refused to look. He took a long inhale of his cigarette. “Did you meet Haruka?” Kiryu asked.Here we go. The nauseous feeling doubled over. “Yeah.”“How was she?”“Uh, good. She’s a good kid.” Just like Nishiki figured when he was thinking straight. She was nice, knew her manners, but probably would’ve thrown a frying pan at his face if it meant protecting her mother. Definitely Yumi and Kiryu’s kid indeed. Which… was the reason for the sickness. “But it’s weird,” he admitted. “I’m, uh, trying not to think too hard about it. You and Yumi… having a kid.”Nishiki was half-expecting Kiryu to be offended, but he only huffed through his nose, an assumedly amused sound. “It is weird, huh?” Out of his peripheral, Nishiki could see him slightly shake his head to himself. “Haruka was a surprise. We weren’t expecting to have her, so… it’s weird sometimes to me, too. I never would’ve thought I’d be a father. Or get married. Or… anything that’s happened. But life’s all about the unexpected.”The sour taste in Nishiki’s mouth was getting overwhelming. “Yeah.” He managed to hold himself off from saying something he would regret, but the bitterness still slipped through his tone. Enough for Kiryu to even pause as he stubbed out his cigarette.“What?”“It’s nothing,” Nishiki muttered.“What?” Kiryu repeated. “Say what’s on your mind.”“It’s stupid.”“Nishiki,” Kiryu sighed.“Kiryu,” Nishiki grumbled.Nishiki tried to puff on his cigarette, but it was done. He clicked his tongue as he stubbed it into the ashtray with more force than needed, in between Kiryu’s smoldering cigarettes. “What do you want me to say? That I’m angry?” Nishiki tightened his fingers into his thighs. Better than splitting the skin of his palms apart, right? “That I’m pissed at you for no reason? We don’t need to get into that shit.”“We should.”“Kiryu—”“And you should be angry with me.”What? Nishiki flickered his eyes to Kiryu, but he was looking away, clenching his own fists. “What?” Nishiki muttered aloud, but Kiryu was already speaking again.“You should be angry with me for…” He sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth. “For breaking our promises, and… and for Yuko.”“Yuko?” Nishiki whispered.He could hear Kiryu suck in a quiet, choked breath. If the night wasn’t so still, he wouldn’t have heard it. “I… I let her die. I let Yuko die.”Nishiki… didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel. He could only think, What the fuck is Kiryu talking about?But Kiryu just kept talking—“I… I didn’t do enough for her. She died… because of me.”—like some sort of nightmare mantra.“Shut up,” Nishiki found himself saying under his breath. He wouldn’t be able to describe his voice in that moment. Maybe “shock” would be best. Maybe “anger” would be secondary, but – again – it was the kind of anger that Nishiki couldn’t put a name to.“I’m sor—”“Shut up! What are you talking about?!”Kiryu’s head turned to him, but he wasn’t looking at him. It didn’t look like he was looking at anything. His eyes were downcast, glassy. The deep-running sorrow and regret and guilt in his eyes didn’t hit Nishiki until a second later. And it only confused him further.“Yuko,” Kiryu repeated. Nishiki felt another sharp pang of anger beat against his chest. “I let her die—”“Shut the fuck up!” Nishiki shoved at Kiryu. Kiryu must’ve definitely been taken off guard, because instead of being the usually unmoving rock that he was, he actually nearly fell off the porch. “Stop saying that shit!”But it was like Kiryu couldn’t see him, couldn’t feel him. Like he was completely blinded by whatever emotion he was entangled within. “I’m sorry,” he said, so quiet, so low, so fucking sad. Nishiki even choked on his next breath. “Her doctor offered me a heart, but I turned it down. She died a few days later. It’s my fault—”The cold feeling that flooded through Nishiki’s veins was surely shock and anger. Undeniable. He didn’t even think. He just swung. He just wanted Kiryu to shut up. He was freaking him out. He was scaring him. He was making him feel like shit, even shittier.Kiryu wasn’t bracing himself again. Nishiki’s fist connected with Kiryu’s shoulder and he fell off the engawa this time. His body landed with a hard thud on the dirt beneath them.It was quiet for a long moment. Quiet enough to hear the sound of wood crackling, with the trees around them expanding and contracting as the air grew even colder. Quiet enough to hear the repetitive tap of the shishi-odoshi on the other side of the ryokan, of its bamboo tube tap-tap-tapping sharply against a rock.Quiet enough to even hear the Tama River, just a little ways from them, streaming, to hear the water fighting to rush through the cold. Nishiki swore he could hear it. Anything was better than hearing his heartbeat slam against his ears.“Fuck,” he breathed out. He blindly reached a hand down, guessing where Kiryu was. “Sorry—”A strong arm pulled Nishiki down. He landed with a hard slam against the ground, too. Just narrowly avoiding Kiryu’s body.In the next instant, Kiryu was pushing at his shoulder, forcing him to roll on to his back and face the faint light that barely touched from inside to outside, to look up at Kiryu, who was sitting up. Nishiki could immediately tell Kiryu didn’t use his full strength when he pulled or pushed him. He just didn’t understand why.“I didn’t have any other options,” Kiryu murmured. His voice was still in that low, disturbing tone. But Nishiki could see his face now, could see that there was a little more clarity behind his eyes, at least. “There was no other way.”Nishiki wanted to fist his hand into Kiryu’s yukata, to throw him on the ground again, but he quelled the urge, because the thought of touching Kiryu again was suddenly terrifying. Maybe because he was looking up at Kiryu, and Kiryu was looking down on him. “What the hell are you talking about?” he muttered out instead.“Yuko,” Kiryu said, like it was so obvious. The urge to throw him down again was getting stronger. Nishiki tightened his fingers into the dirt. “Her doctor… He disappeared after he offered to give her a heart from the black market. He was indebted to a family in the clan. They probably killed him after he didn’t pay his debts.”I know that. Yumi told me. But Nishiki bit his tongue, because he wanted to see what the hell Kiryu was trying to get at.“I told him no. But—But I shouldn’t have. It was the only way. The Organ Transplant Law wasn’t passed until a year later, and the first heart transplant after that was in ‘99. So…” His eyes became unfocused again. “Yuko was never going to get a heart, anyway. Not in the way ‘I wanted.’ Not legally in Japan. There was no way. It was a long-running scam from her doctor—but… it was the only way. I should’ve known better. If… If I had known beforehand, none of this would’ve happened.” He began to sink into himself, until Nishiki no longer had to look up to see him. “If I had just—I should’ve taken the offer. Yuko would still be here.”Nishiki let the words sink in. He had to swallow back a heavy lump building up in the center of his throat. When Kiryu set his head down beside him, Nishiki realized he was bowing, he was asking for forgiveness. And he realized why he felt so shocked and so angry, because Kiryu shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be asking him for forgiveness.There was rational anger and irrational anger. Those were the components of the two-part emotional system that made up most yakuza, and the two parts bled into one another all too easily.Irrational anger came flooding in and out of Nishiki’s body, even now. It told him this was what he wanted. This was justified. Even Kiryu knew that all promises had been broken between them, that they crossed the line without one another, that Kiryu moved up in the yakuza without him, started a family without him, got the happily ever after they dreamed of without him.Would Nishiki’s outbursts to Reina and Yumi have all been for nothing? This has been bubbling up beneath the surface all week. Thoughts of Kiryu made Nishiki’s stomach twist, made him want to drink, made him want to smoke, made him want to die. This was right. This is what he wanted. For Kiryu to be beneath him, for Kiryu to be the one begging for forgiveness from him.But the larger part of him, the rational anger, said no. Thank God. It said no. Thank God it said no because Nishiki was terrified of himself. He was scared of the Nishikiyama who could look inside himself and only find anger, who couldn’t control his words or actions.The rational anger said no, you’re angry because Kiryu is taking the blame for Yuko’s death. It was what moved him to finally reach out, to grab the opening of Kiryu’s yukata and pull him down until they were almost nose to nose, eye to eye.This was terrifying, too. Being this willingly close to Kiryu again, being able to look in Kiryu’s eyes again. Nishiki’s hands shook – fear, anger, shock, sadness, everything all in one. “Stop. You didn’t let her die.”Kiryu shook his head, but his eyes looked clearer. “But I—”“You didn’t let her die,” Nishiki repeated. “Got it?” He pulled Kiryu in closer to knock their foreheads together. He winced but invited the pain. “Did you put a gun against her head and shoot her?”Kiryu paused, blinked, before he shook his head against Nishiki’s. His eyes were still so sad, but he looked like he was listening.“Did you put a knife to her chest and stab her?”Kiryu shook his head.“Then you weren’t the reason she died.” Nishiki closed his eyes as he pulled Kiryu a little closer. “The only thing that killed her was time,” he breathed out. He let go of the anger. “Not you. Not… Not even that fucking doctor. It’s not anyone’s fault.”“Nishiki…” He could feel Kiryu moving his hands closer around him, touching his sides.“Now, don’t say that shit to me again.” Nishiki forced a small smile when he opened his eyes. “Or I’ll kick your ass. You’re really pissing me off, you know?”Kiryu snorted. He didn’t look so lost and helpless anymore. Good. “I thought you would.”“What? Really?” Okay, Nishiki’s curiosity was unfortunately piqued. If they did get into a fight now, just how badly would Kiryu beat him? How much stronger had he gotten?He slid a hand across Kiryu’s arm, ignoring the anxious goosebumps that rose up on his own arm and the tremble between his fingertips. More importantly, his suspicions were confirmed: Kiryu miraculously gained more muscle. He squeezed Kiryu’s arm before he let go.“Really.” Kiryu nodded. He moved a little closer, let his chest rest against Nishiki’s instead of hovering. Now, this was too much Kiryu. This was an overwhelming amount of Kiryu. But maybe this was a form of exposure therapy or something. “I thought we would fight.”Nishiki was also scared of the Nishikiyama who would look inside himself after looking at Kiryu and only feel scared, confused. It wasn’t as bad as it was before, before the decade they lost each other in, but it was still there, in a corner of Nishiki’s chest – a slight burn. He could feel it creeping back up. It was like his mind suddenly registered how close they were, the way Kiryu was looking at him. He wanted to rub at his chest, rub the feeling away. It was unwarranted, supposed to be buried down.“This doesn’t feel like fighting,” Nishiki muttered.“With you, it is.”Nishiki rolled his eyes. He pushed at Kiryu’s shoulders. “Okay, get off me. You’re heavy.” Kiryu didn’t move, though. Well, not to get off of Nishiki. He moved down to set his head on Nishiki’s chest with a sudden, quiet laugh, holding him in place. “Ugh, when’d you get so touchy? What now?”“We did this before, but you were too drunk to remember.”“So?” They would get up to a lot of shit when they were drunk, a lot worse things. Laying on each other was pretty tame in the grand scheme of things.“It was our last day here before we moved to Kamurocho. When we spent the night here.”Nishiki thought back on it. Their last day living in Fuchu was admittedly a blur, especially the last night. He could only sort of remember the following morning, when they packed their bags into a car Kazama sent for them and headed for Kamurocho. He could remember having the hangover of a lifetime. He probably groaned about it to Kiryu before sleeping in the car—“It was the first time we kissed.”
Oh.
What the hell was Nishiki supposed to say to that? He felt crushed, crushed beneath Kiryu’s weight. He tried to wriggle his arms out from under Kiryu, but he wasn’t budging. He sighed. “We’re supposed to be talking about, I don’t know, you or oyasan or something… Not…”“Us?” Kiryu picked his head up. “Why can’t we talk about us?”“Because…” Nishiki shifted his eyes away. “That’s in the past.”“Aren’t we supposed to talk about the past?” Nishiki tried to squirm out from underneath Kiryu again, but Kiryu held on. “You talked to Yumi, oyasan, and Reina. You already know what happened with all of us, right?”Nishiki laid his head back on the ground in defeat. “Yeah, I guess.”“Then there’s no point in me repeating what they told you.” Well, that made sense. There probably wasn’t too much new to learn about what Nishiki missed over the last ten years at this point. “But you can’t talk to them about just us. That’s only between us.”“There’s nothing to talk about,” Nishiki muttered.“Why not?”“Because…” Because what?“Why are you still pulling away from me?”Nishiki couldn’t look at Kiryu anymore. He turned his head away, pressed his ear to the ground.The silence between them was long and heavy. Long enough for Kiryu to sit up slightly, but he still held Nishiki down by the arms. Nishiki didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes. He just listened to the ground. He remembered when he and Yuko first arrived to Sunflower and they spent most of their time in the garden, away from the other kids. Yuko would say if you put your ear to the dirt, you could hear the Earth’s heartbeat. Nishiki always told her it was dumb, that he couldn’t hear anything. But now. Now he understood her.“You always pushed me away,” Kiryu said quietly. Not a question, but a reminder.Maybe Yuko’s point wasn’t that the Earth had its own heartbeat, but that it worked in tandem with your own. She could go on about nature and its beauty, in its philosophy and poetics, in ways that went over Nishiki’s head. But he could understand this now – just listening, just being. Was this how Yuko felt before she died? Was she more focused on sharing the same breath as the gardenias, or was she more focused on the warmth of Kiryu’s arms?Nishiki slowly opened his eyes. “It was for you. I did everything for you, Kiryu. It was always all about you,” he found himself murmuring. “I had to push you away. I didn’t want anything to go too far in between us in case it got out. There’s no such thing as secrets in the yakuza, right? What would everyone think if they found out the Dragon of Dojima was a homo? That he and his kyodai hooked up with each other? It would’ve killed you.” That was only the half of it. “I pushed you away because I didn’t want to ruin your life.”Kiryu only paused for a second before he asked, “Why did you keep coming back? If what we did was so ‘wrong’?”And that was the other half of it. The half that Nishiki didn’t have an answer for. “I don’t know. I could never figure it out.” Kiryu’s hold on him loosened, but Nishiki didn’t move to sit up. “I was… scared. I don’t know. It was… a lot. Us. What I felt for you. I don’t know how to even describe the feeling. I just knew it scared me. I kept running away from it and chasing after it at the same time. I don’t know why.” I could do this every day. I could fall in love with this. “But—Whatever. That doesn’t matter. We weren’t supposed to mean anything or be anything, right? Because you went off and married Yumi right after I went to jail.” When he finally looked at Kiryu again, he wasn’t ready for the pained look in Kiryu’s eyes.“Nishiki…”“That’s why I’m mad. Not because of Yuko. Because… you got everything. You got married, had a kid, became a patriarch, became a CEO. Me? I worked so hard and got nothing.” Nishiki shook his head to himself. “It’s stupid, right? That’s why I didn’t want to talk about it.”“I didn’t have everything,” Kiryu quickly said. “Too many people lost their lives because of me. I had to push everyone away to keep from more people getting hurt. I wasn’t a very good patriarch or boss, and I wasn’t a good husband or father, either. Nothing… worked out for me. I lost everything.”“Hm. Maybe I shouldn’t envy you,” Nishiki muttered. He didn’t want to admit it, but it seemed like Kiryu’s life in the past ten years was just as shitty as Nishiki’s. So, the anger was truly irrational after all.A beat passed, before Kiryu suddenly said, “‘Felt’?”Nishiki moved to sit up. He brushed away the stray dirt from the back of his head. “Huh?”“You said what you ‘felt’ for me. What do you feel about me now?” Kiryu’s throat bobbed, looked like a hard swallow. “Besides anger.”A slow sinking feeling started in Nishiki’s stomach. “…Why?”“I just left the Tojo Clan and resigned from my business today.”“What?” Nishiki shoved at Kiryu’s shoulder, but not as hard as before, just a slight shove. Kiryu expectedly didn’t even move a millimeter this time. “Why do you talk like that? You always start in the middle.”Kiryu wasn’t the type to roll his eyes, but Nishiki imagined he would’ve in that moment. Instead, he let out a quiet breath through his nose. “Before you came back, I’ve been thinking about what I want. I realized I didn’t want to be a part of the Tojo anymore, so I left. And… I realized I want to be with you.” Nishiki gasped, but he was sure no sound came out. “You said the clan was one reason why you pushed me away. Now, neither of us are in the clan anymore. So… What about now? What do you feel now?”Nishiki was sure that his heart stopped beating for a good second and had to reset itself. “Don’t—Don’t tell me this is your dumbass version of a confession or something,” he tried to joke, but his voice came out strained.“Hm…” Kiryu gave a half-smile. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”The oblivious, stubborn, self-righteous Kiryu Kazuma. Who some people called dumb, who some people called gullible, who some people said was too unselfish for his own good. Nishiki unfortunately had to think of him as the guy who could still make the tips of his ears burn – even after ten years of not speaking, even at the embarrassing age of thirty-seven.Since Nishiki was clearly speechless, Kiryu went on, “I don’t know what I want to do now, but I know I want to be with you—in whatever way you want. We don’t necessarily have to be together like we were before. I want to at least be friends again. You said you’re sticking with me until death do us part, and you said nothing means anything if we’re not together.” Kiryu placed his hand over Nishiki’s. “It’s the same for me. I don’t want to be apart from you ever again.”Nishiki groaned. “I can’t believe I said that, either. I was really dramatic back then.” Kiryu let out a quiet laugh as he intertwined their fingers together. “And…” Nishiki squeezed Kiryu’s hand. “Who said we stopped being friends?”Kiryu smiled. The first real smile between them of that night. He smiled like he couldn’t fight the feeling. Despite himself, Nishiki felt himself slowly smiling back. And he felt that all-too familiar ache in his chest, squeezing at his heart. It was still scary, but it was cathartic almost. Like putting on an old shirt, or stepping into a worn pair of shoes, or coming home after a long day.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Fuchu
Fuchu-yu
0:49
Kiryu claimed that Nishiki had done this too, during their (apparently infamous) last night in Fuchu when they shared their first kiss.“I said we’re still friends,” Nishiki muttered, but he accepted the cup of sake Kiryu poured for him. It had an herbal scent to it. “Do we really have to do the kyodai-sakazuki thing, too? Was that not enough?”“No.” Kiryu held up his cup. Nishiki followed in suit. “We’re more than friends.”“Oh yeah? What are we?”“We’re kyodai.”Nishiki snorted. “You’re so corny. You know that? It’s actually painful to talk to you sometimes. You never had any game.” Nishiki held up his cup. Kiryu followed in suit. “I don’t know what Yumi ever saw in you.”“Whatever it is works—since you liked it, too.”Nishiki nearly choked on his drink. He kicked at Kiryu’s shin for laughing.Kiryu set their cups aside on the table after they finished. A content energy buzzed around him. They were far away from the suffocating air from hours ago, but Nishiki still felt anxious. Especially so when Kiryu moved to hold his hand over the table.“After we did the ceremony, you said it felt like we were getting married, and then you kissed me.”Nishiki groaned. “Remind me never to get drunk around you again.”“It’s three drinks for marriage, and this was our third drink.”“Kiryu. Shut up.”“I think we should kiss again, like last time.”“I think you should stop talking.”“It feels like we’re kids again.” Kiryu didn’t have to actually smile for Nishiki to hear it in his voice. “Sometimes I wish we listened to Kazama-no-oyasan. I wish we all just stayed here and never left.”There were so many what-ifs when it came to them. What if they never joined the yakuza? What if they decided to quit while they were ahead in the ‘80s? What if Nishiki shot Kiryu in the woods in ‘88, and then shot himself afterward?“Me too.” Nishiki ran his thumb over Kiryu’s knuckles. A memory popped into mind. “You don’t remember the first time we got drunk, right?” Kiryu shook his head. “It was in our spot in the forest. I think we were about fifteen. I dared you to drink one of the packs of beer we stole. And you did, and got super drunk.”Kiryu looked like he was trying to think back. “I only remember you dragging me back home.”“Yeah. But you said something to me. You said you wished I was a girl and that you wished you liked girls, so we could’ve been together that way.” Nishiki laughed despite the fact that Kiryu’s eyebrows furrowed even deeper. There were a few times when Nishiki wished it was that way, too. He occasionally wished that he had been the sister and Yuko had been the brother. It probably would’ve been better that way. “It fucked with my head for a while. Especially after I did that play for Yuko and you said I looked ‘cool’ or whatever in my costume. I thought you only ‘wanted’ me when you could pretend that I was someone else.”“No.” Kiryu firmly shook his head. “Never.”Before Kiryu could launch into a surely too self-serious denial, Nishiki butted in, “What about you? You barely ever initiated anything with me. You would always make me do all the work.”Kiryu (unfortunately) didn’t look caught off guard by the question. He even gave a slight nod. “I was… confused. I guess I still am. I don’t have everything figured out—about life, about people, about myself. I don’t really know what I want, or what I like. I think I was too focused on the clan and never on myself.”“You think?” Nishiki snorted, but he gave Kiryu’s hand a sympathetic squeeze.“But I know I want to be with you, and I want to figure out everything with you. I know if you want me to stay, I’ll never leave you.”Nishiki couldn’t believe Kiryu managed to render him speechless once again. After a moment, he whispered, “Is it really that easy?”“It can be.”Nishiki shook his head. “I don’t think so. And I think you’re crazy, by the way—and I know I’m crazy. This’ll never work. You’ll get sick of me.”“No, I can’t get enough of you.” It was the fact that he said it so seriously, with no charm, no finesse. He was terrible.“Ugh. Stop.” Nishiki tugged a little at Kiryu’s arm. “I think I liked earlier better, when I was pissed and you thought we’d fight.” Kiryu took the hint and moved closer. “Maybe then you could’ve knocked me out and I wouldn’t have to suffer through this.” Kiryu made a soft hum in disagreement.Nishiki had made a half-assed dialogue in his mind before he arrived to the ryokan. He thought he would continue to talk about the past – such as Kiryu’s family, whether with Yumi or with the yakuza, and about the future – since Majima was taking up all the space within the collective conscious. He thought they would maybe fight, too. They would inevitably bump heads about something and they would have to get mano a mano. It would be a hopeless fight. Kiryu would always win.He even thought about maybe mentioning Yumi and Haruka, to tell Kiryu that Yumi still loved him and his daughter needed him around, and that it would be best if he was there for them and left him behind. Kiryu would’ve probably said something to fully pull over convincing him to help against Majima, and that would be that.None of the world’s overthinking and pre-thinking and hypotheticals would prepare Nishiki for this. For Kiryu to practically ask to pick up where they left off. For Kiryu to ask for the past to intertwine with the future, to ask for them never to be separated again.What else was there to do except to give Kiryu the kiss he wanted? Even though it felt like it was too soon, it felt just right. Even though it felt like it was undeserved, it was a desire Nishiki was tired of running from. Kiryu was right. There was no reason to hide anymore. There was nothing holding them back anymore. Why deny himself from the one thing he ever wanted, and vice versa?It was so chaste, it felt like it could hardly count as a kiss. It was more like a touch, with Nishiki just barely catching the corner of Kiryu’s lips. Nerves got the best of him in the end. Nishiki’s hands trembled, and Kiryu surely felt it. But he didn’t pry, didn’t ask for more, didn’t change his mind. In fact, it looked like it meant the world to Kiryu. Maybe that could be enough.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Fuchu
Fuchu-yu
1:11
Kiryu pulled him to lay down on the same futon, which Nishiki loudly grumbled about. Kiryu only hummed, “Hm,” at his half-hearted complaints, as he rearranged for them to lay on their sides and pressed his face into Nishiki’s chest again. “You still smell the same. Like autumn.”“And you’re still weird. Why are you smelling me?” Despite himself, Nishiki quietly breathed in through his nose. Kiryu still smelled the same, too. Like smoke. “Anything else?”“I was told you were quieter, but you sound the same to me.”“Oh yeah? In jail, we had quiet time. Maybe that’s why.” Which was a half-truth. “Did Reina tell you that?” Reina had told Nishiki he was quieter when they first spoke.Kiryu shook his head against him. “Majima-san told me that.”“…What?”“He told me he saw you on your first day out.”Nishiki never considered that Majima would tell Kiryu that he spotted him, but that made sense. Whatever. “Can we talk about Majima later? I think I’ll lose my mind if I hear his name again.”Kiryu nodded. “He’s expected to make a move either today or tomorrow. I’m on call if it happens. Oyasan wants us back in town by morning, though.”“Of course. You left the yakuza but you still work for them.”“Same for you.”“Whatever.” Nishiki placed a careful hand on Kiryu’s back. “Go to sleep.”“Nishiki?”Nishiki leaned back slightly so that he could look down. He couldn’t help but think back. Back to when they were little kids, and when one of them would have a nightmare and crawl into the other’s bed. When they were teenagers, and when they got kicked out of school for a week for fighting, and Nishiki found Kiryu sitting by the river, and Kiryu laid his head against his shoulder in silence for hours, because they both realized that the road most traveled wasn’t for them.When they first moved to Kamurocho, when they got their own places for the first time, but still hated spending time apart, and Nishiki woke up earlier than Kiryu one morning, and Kiryu was wrapped around him then as he was now. And Nishiki thought then, Could this be mine? But he knew the answer was no. Nishiki thought the same thing now, Could this be mine? He knew the answer was it could, if he let it be.Kiryu pressed his lips against his chest, over his heart. “Thank you for coming back.”
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Fuchu
Fuchu Cemetery
6:13
Kiryu pulled out a letter from a bag resting in the backseat of his car.“Oyasan asked me to give you this. It’s Yuko’s last letter to you. This is the original. The one I sent you was a copy.” He clasped his hand over Nishiki’s before handing over the letter. Nishiki wished he didn’t have his gloves on, so he could feel Kiryu’s skin on his. “I’ll wait here.” Kiryu squeezed his hand before he let him go and leaned against the car, already lighting up a cigarette.Nishiki carefully tucked the letter into his coat pocket and went on his way.He was silent as he went through the motions of buying incense sticks and borrowing a small wooden tub from the shrine. He tried to empty his mind as he turned on the tap near the cemetery gates and filled the bucket with water.The stone monument that marked Yuko’s grave stood alone. There were no other Nishikiyamas to accompany her.Nishiki and Yuko’s parents didn’t leave anything left after they died, not even their bodies. So, the Nishikiyama family didn’t have a family grave. Yumi was different than them in that aspect, as she later managed to find the Sawamura family grave somewhere in Tokyo (with just about all of the members deceased, unfortunately; there was no one for her to reach out to). Kiryu was in the same boat as Nishiki, with no Kiryu family grave to look for, but at least he knew he was originally from Yokohama. Nishiki couldn’t even remember where he was “from” anymore.He wasn’t from the place he was born. He wasn’t from the place he was raised. He wasn’t from the place he called home. He wasn’t from anywhere. Not like it ever really mattered, because he had Yuko, and wherever Yuko was would always be home to him. That’s what he would think.Yuko’s grave was already well-kept. There weren’t any nearby weeds. There wasn’t even anything in need of sweeping. There was a fresh bundle of white gardenias in the vase in front of her gravestone. It must have been from Kiryu, it had to be. He was always the more thoughtful one in that way. He liked sending Yuko flowers every few weeks. The white gardenias were obviously purposeful, being the last thing she saw before she died.Through the sadness and guilt, Nishiki suddenly felt a sharp pang of shame. Did he really plan to slit his stomach in front of Yuko’s grave at the beginning of the week? Why the fuck did he think that? Her grave was so clean, so well taken care of. The flowers still smelled soft. Their white petals were as pristine as could be. Nishiki couldn’t believe he honestly considered staining the place with his blood and tainting it with his death. How could he think such a thing? How could he do that to Yuko?He didn’t wipe his tears as he lit up the incense sticks and placed them in the gravestone’s incense holder. The smoke that came out wasn’t too strong, and it smelled of warm honey and toasted sugar. Yuko would’ve loved the scent.He used the ladle from the bucket to pour water over the gravestone. His eyes couldn’t help but trace over the words engraved into the stone: Nishikiyama Yuko. It was written into a wooden board behind the gravestone, too: Nishikiyama Yuko.The worst what-ifs always were about Yuko. What if Yuko had a healthy heart? What if Yuko lived? Not just as in what if she didn’t die, but what if she lived? What if she got to live the life she deserved? She was so smart. She could’ve sought after whatever passion she wanted. Maybe she could’ve been an author or a poet, or a historian, or she could’ve done something with plants or even something in politics.She could’ve traveled the world and visit countries that Nishiki had never heard of, and probably pick up on too many languages to count, and learn firsthand about all the undermined people and cultures that she always read about.She should’ve been able to go to college, make all sorts of friends – good and bad ones, for-now friends and forever friends, date whoever – fall in love or get her heart broken. She should’ve been able to get her own place to call home. She only ever remembered living in the orphanage or a hospital, or staying in Nishiki’s apartments from time to time. She never got her own place to live in.She should’ve gotten the world. But all she had was a gravestone with her name twice over.Nishiki’s prayer was silent. He didn’t want to send his laments to Yuko. She wouldn’t have wanted to hear that. She would’ve said the same thing he told Kiryu – it’s not your fault. She told him that sometimes just being was enough and intentions were more easily conveyed that way. He understood her now.He didn’t know how much time passed until he unclasped his hands. Outside of the prayer, he whispered an apology in his mind. He couldn’t help it. He was too late for her, too.Nishiki gingerly took out Yuko’s letter from his pocket. Kiryu said Kazama wanted him to have it. It was just another part of Kazama’s plan, surely. But Nishiki didn’t care. He remembered the letter he received in jail was oddly succinct for Yuko, being only a page long, so he knew it had been censored for whatever reason. He wanted Yuko’s complete last words more than anything – even though he knew it was going to hurt, even though he knew he was buying further into Kazama’s scheme.With a deep breath, he opened up the envelope, unfolded the papers, and read.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
DATE: 1996 June 21 (Friday)
TO: Nishikiyama Akira, Inmate 1240
FROM: Nishikiyama Yuko, Younger Sister
REQUEST: Personal letter
I’m unsure if this letter is ever going to find you, but I’ve been stricken with the urge to write to you since April, when I first realized that I was going to die soon. It’s June now, and I’m still writing and rewriting what I want to say. I don’t know if this physical letter will ever reach you, but I know my words and my intention will still reach you in some way – whether now or later, whether living or dead.I don’t even know where to begin. We’ve been each other’s beginnings, but I also believe we’ll be each other’s endings, too. Even though we’re not physically together, even though we haven’t been able to see each other or speak to each other in almost a year, you’re always in my thoughts – so, it’s like you’re still here. And because I’m thinking of you, I have a feeling that I know what you’re thinking right now. You’re probably thinking that everyone is “moving on without you.” You always thought that. I was never able to convince you otherwise. It’s one regret I still carry with me and I’m trying to let go of before I die.Sometimes I wasn’t able to understand your perspective, but I can now – because everyone will be moving on without me soon. Kazuma and Yumi got married and are having a child. Can you believe that? I know I shouldn’t say this, but one of my thoughts after their announcement was that I was glad you weren’t here for this.It’s a terrible thought, I know. Otherwise, I want you here more than anything in the world. But in that moment, I was glad that you weren’t. I know to you that Kazuma and Yumi’s marriage, and their soon-to-be daughter Haruka, would be the “final evidence” that you need to solidify that “the world is against you,” “no one needs you,” and that “you’re better off dead.” (These are all things I heard you say before. You realize how terrible it sounds when it’s written out? I always told you to write down your thoughts, because once they’re on paper, you realize just how irrational and ugly a thought can be – and that, above all, a thought is a thought and not an action to be. I hope you can take my advice in the future!!)In my opinion, Kazuma and Yumi certainly aren’t “moving on without you.” They aren’t even moving into each other. They’re trying to fill in the space that you left behind. This might sound like a major assumption, but I grew up with all of you, so I think I know you all pretty well. I can tell that Kazuma is searching for something that isn’t there with Yumi, and I can tell that Yumi thinks she found something that isn’t there with Kazuma. But it isn’t my place to say this to them. I feel like they wouldn’t listen, anyway. Whenever I mention you or my death, they freeze. They get scared. They don’t let me talk. That in itself is why I can tell they’re avoiding the space that you left behind, and the space that I will soon leave behind, too.But do you understand what I said? You left a space behind. We all can feel it. Kazuma and Yumi can try to run from it, but I’ve been trying to embrace it. And you should do the same for me, when the time comes. I know you. I know you’re going to find a way to blame yourself for my death. Don’t. Okay? Please don’t. It’s not your fault. The only thing at fault is time, and I can’t even fault time itself. If this was the life I was destined to live, so be it. It took a long time, but I learned to accept that this is the way things are.You might be wondering why I said I “realized” I was going to die. No, there wasn’t a specific reason why that I can name. It would make more sense if one of my doctors told me that something terrible happened internally, or if I was soon due for a surgery that would cause more risk than recovery, or even if I maybe had a dream of myself dying and watching my own funeral or something. But no. It just came to me suddenly one morning, after I woke up and I was looking out the window over the hospital garden. I’m going to die soon. And it came with a sinking feeling. I knew I was right. I knew there was no fighting it.That’s why I’m able to say it and write it down. “My death.” I’m able to say it before it can happen, because it’s just a fact of life. I remember that the author Akutagawa Ryunosuke said in his will before his suicide that he felt a “vague anxiety” toward the future. I feel the same way. At first, I felt a certain despair for the rest of the day after my realization. I thought, is this my life? Is this all my life is going to be? I cried myself to sleep that night, and I kept asking if there was a way for me to start over. I asked for a new life. I promised I would make the most of the next life. I’ll treat it well and precious and savor it, because I wasn’t able to in this waste of a life, because I know not to take life for granted.And then, about a week later, Kazuma and Yumi took me out on a trip to Kanagawa. They took me to the beach first. It was in the early morning. It was cold and there was hardly anyone around, since it was a less popular beach. I sat in the sand and I looked out over the water for a long time, and then I thought the things I asked for were untrue. My life wasn’t a waste, because I got to live it. Because I got to be with you and be your sister. Because I got to meet Kazuma and Yumi and be their friends. Because I got to exist. Because I got to see the ocean.We went to a butterfly garden after breakfast, and I knew my life wasn’t a waste because I got to see the butterflies and smell the flowers. We went to the movie theater after lunch, and I knew my life wasn’t a waste when I felt Kazuma fall asleep against my shoulder and heard Yumi try to hide her tears during the movie’s climax. I knew my life wasn’t a waste because they love me, and I love them. Because you love me, and I love you.I’ve been thinking about what I want lately. If I have “any last wishes,” I guess. Other than to die in the garden with my last sight being flowers, as we both always promised each other, I thought there wasn’t much else that I wanted. I wanted to write a letter to you, so I did. But then I thought, what do I want for you? What do I want for you to do or feel after I die?I know I can’t control what you say or what you do, especially whenever you already have a preconceived notion in your mind that you refuse to let go of. But I’m going to try, anyway. I don’t simply just want you to live. I want you to realize that you’re living, too. You’re alive. There are so many reasons why you’re alive. Don’t ever forget that, okay? All I want from you is to remember that.Thank you for taking care of me for so many years. I remember I felt like such a burden on you, but you managed to convince me otherwise. I hope I can do the same for you. You’re not a burden, either. You’re needed. Just as much as you need other people, they need you. You’re loved. Just as much as you love other people, they love you. I’m evidence of that. If it weren’t for your love, we all wouldn’t be where we are today.I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll never stop thinking about you. But I know there will come a day when I will stop missing you, because we’ll be together again. And when that day comes, I’ll be waiting for you to tell me about your life. I hope it’s a very long story. I hope it’s a story that can make me laugh and cry and feel envious over you – because it’s going to be a story that’s difficult yet amazing and fulfilling, and it’s going to be worth it. I’ll be looking forward to it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Fuchu
Chūō Expressway
6:54
It took a one-hour car ride to get from Fuchu to Kamurocho. So, that meant Nishiki was trapped in Kiryu’s car for an hour – during the morning rush hour, too. Great.They were only ten minutes in and it was already killing Nishiki. It was like his right side was on fire from Kiryu’s close proximity. It didn’t feel this way last night when they slept together, all tangled up in each other’s arms. Probably because Nishiki had been the emotional equivalent of melted rubber and was too mentally numb to care. But now, in the daylight and after spending half an hour at Yuko’s grave, everything felt – too bright, too hot, too sudden.Nishiki cleared his throat. What was the point in feeling awkward if there was nowhere to run and hide? Unless he opened up the car door and tucked and rolled onto the expressway. That didn’t seem like a bad idea, actually.“What?” Kiryu suddenly said, likely because he could feel Nishiki’s mind going into overdrive.“Nothing.” On second thought, why was Nishiki biting his tongue? He was allowed to interact with the world and the people and things within it. He was allowed to talk to Kiryu, even though it made his brain melt and his fingers twitch against his knee. “Just, uh… Nice car.”He could see Kiryu briefly raise an eyebrow in the rearview mirror. “Thanks?”“I can’t believe you got a Mercedes.” Nishiki had enough nerve to give a half-smile, but it probably looked pitiful. “You finally became a real yakuza, huh?”Kiryu shrugged, but Nishiki could tell by his eyes that he was amused. “I guess so.”“But the steering wheel’s on the wrong side.”“Huh?”“The steering wheel’s on the right side,” Nishiki pointed out. “Remember when I told you that cars with wheels on the left side are seen as more high class?”Kiryu’s eyebrows furrowed even deeper. “All your cars had wheels on the right side.”“Yeah, but I wasn’t a fucking patriarch.” At least the windows were tinted. Speaking of Nishiki’s cars, “Wait, what happened to my car, anyway?” In the ‘80s, he was known for his Toyota Chaser. In the ‘90s, he got a Honda NSX that he barely got to drive before getting locked up.Out of all the possible responses, Nishiki wasn’t expecting Kiryu to say, “I still have it.”“What?” Nishiki snorted. “You’re joking.”Kiryu shook his head. “I put it in a storage unit and kept up with the maintenance.” He gave a quiet laugh. “The new recruits’ favorite errand to run was taking care of your car. I would ask them to use the same air freshener thing you used, too. The one that smells like oranges.”“Oh.” How the hell was Nishiki supposed to feel about that? “You’re… making it hard to stay mad at you.”Kiryu laughed again, a little louder. “You’re still mad at me?”“Yeah. There’s a lot to be mad about.” It was more like Nishiki was mildly annoyed that Kiryu was being so damn nice to him. It was too much. It was reminding him why he always had a thing for him in the first place. Time to deflect: “I’m pissed at your employees, actually.”“What?”“Your employees from your company or whatever. They tried to jump me yesterday.”The car slightly swerved. Kiryu was clearly shocked. “What?” he repeated.“Yeah. After I came back to Kamurocho with Saejima Yasuko, a bunch of salarymen started chasing me, but I managed to hide from them. I heard them say something about someone named Mine. Mine Yoshitaka, I think? I heard he works for you.”The frown that crossed over Kiryu’s face was deep, a mix of both anger and disappointment. Looks like something about Mine Yoshitaka strikes a nerve, if Nishiki had to guess. “Mine, he…” Kiryu sighed. “He didn’t like it when I told him I’m stepping down. He tried to fight me.”“Got some trouble in paradise, Mr. CEO?”“Something like that.” Kiryu’s hands briefly tightened on the steering wheel. “I don’t know why he’s coming after you.”“Maybe he thinks I’m the reason you quit. Well,” Nishiki shrugged, “I guess I kinda am.” Oh well. Nishiki bearing the brunt of a decision that Kiryu made was nothing new. It was almost nostalgic in an irritating way.“Why’d you hide instead of fight?”Nishiki blinked. “Uh… You said it yourself, I lost all my muscle,” and my resolve. “I can’t… fight like I used to.” It was harder admitting that to Kiryu than to Yumi and Yasuko. Nishiki turned to the window. Fuchu was slowly fading into the distance. “Fighting in the streets and fighting in prison are two different things,” he tried to brush off. “Especially when everybody’s trying to kill you. It’s not about who’s the strongest, it’s about who fights the dirtiest. It’s not about winning, it’s about… surviving.”Kiryu was quiet for a long moment, long enough for Nishiki to slump against the window. When Kiryu had to slow to a stop, forced by the inevitable dregs of morning traffic, he quietly said, “You don’t have to fight anymore.” Nishiki sat up slightly but didn’t say anything. “Not when we’re together.”“Oh yeah?” Nishiki glanced at Kiryu. “What, are you gonna protect me? Are you my bodyguard now?”“Always was.”“Shut up.” Nishiki rolled his eyes. “I caught up to you when we were, like, eighteen.” Puberty hit Kiryu like a brick and he gained muscle more easily, but even though Nishiki never won a fight against him, he used to be able to hold his own well enough.“I don’t just mean it that way.” Kiryu fully looked at him. “I meant you don’t have to fight through life anymore.” He reached over the center console and took his hand. “Now that we’re together, you can just live it.”Nishiki looked down at their hands. His palms were scarred, Kiryu’s palms were calloused. It was a rough meeting in the middle, but he was learning to like it – simply because he could feel it. Never had he been so intimate with the shape of Kiryu’s hands before. It was like he couldn’t let him go. “I don’t get it,” Nishiki found himself saying. He heard Kiryu hum, a question. “It hasn’t even been a day yet. How can you be so sure that we can go on forever?”“Because it’s us.” As simple as that.Why was Nishiki questioning Kiryu’s devotion? A man who was willing to maintain the upkeep of another man’s car for ten years, right down to keeping the air freshener the same, without knowing if said man would come back or not – that was the definition of commitment. That was more loyal than some dogs. It was ridiculous.No, Nishiki wasn’t questioning the depth of Kiryu’s devotion, because he knew it was limitless. He was questioning why Kiryu was willing to devote so much of himself to him. “But I’m not… I’m not me anymore.” If Kiryu wanted to pick up where they left off, there was no one to leave off of anymore. The Nishikiyama of ten years ago was a distant memory, just like the Kiryu of ten years ago surely was too.“You’re Nishiki. That’ll never change.”“But I did change.” Nishiki shook his head. “I’m just—I’m holding myself back right now, but it’ll happen eventually. I’ll lose my shit and snap at you, say some shit that we’ll both regret. I’m scared shitless all the fucking time. I’m even scared right now—of you, of myself. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t make sense anymore.” Nishiki let out a humorless laugh. He couldn’t believe he was saying any of this shit. Why? Was he trying to save Kiryu from himself? “I was already fucked up before. I’m even worse now. I don’t see why you would want to deal with me anymore. It’s a waste of time—”“No.” Kiryu’s tone immediately shut Nishiki up. “I don’t care. It’s not a waste of time. You’re still Nishiki, and I still want you.”“Why? It’d be easier to let me go.”“Do you want me to?” Kiryu held up their joined hands. “Tell me. I’ll do it.”Nishiki bit his tongue. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to feel a pain sharp enough to override his senses, just for a split second. He wasn’t as out of his mind as he was on Monday, but it was only Saturday, and he wasn’t much better. Kiryu was stubborn, but he was older.Did he still charge headfirst into things without thinking of the consequences? How long did he think about leaving the Tojo and his business, the pros and cons, before he stepped down? How long did he think about being with Nishiki before they reunited? He must’ve thought about it for a long time. Had to. Because to Kiryu, leaving the yakuza would be like cutting off a limb.It seemed like, finally, Kiryu was starting to look at the bigger picture. It was time for Nishiki to do the same.“No,” he said, too low. He couldn’t even hear himself. He tightened his hand around Kiryu. “No,” he repeated, louder. The bigger picture was still blurry, still missing a lot of pieces, and it was probably stacked with empty promises – because no matter how much Kiryu wanted to give the world to him, he was still just a man. He wasn’t superhuman. He wasn’t a shield. But for Nishiki, for whatever reason, he wanted to be. “Don’t let go.” Being with Kiryu hurt, but being without him was hell.Kiryu nodded. “I won’t.” He pressed his lips against Nishiki’s knuckles, which had long faded to a ruddy color from being split open again and again over the years. But maybe after this weekend, not anymore. Not if he put himself in Kiryu’s hands. “Don’t let go of me, too.”“I won’t.” Maybe it was another empty promise, but at least they were able to make promises again. “Sounds like you’re all in,” he muttered.“I always am for you.” Kiryu leaned in – then blinked suddenly, stopping himself. He squeezed Nishiki’s hand instead and pulled away, focused on the road again. The cars around them were finally moving.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Hotel Lily
8:00
The love hotel that Kazama arranged for Nishiki and Yasuko to hide out in was called Hotel Lily. Hotel Lily was one of the least popular hotels in the Hotel District, and it was a smaller one, nestled out of view from the public eye. You had to go out of your way to find it. The perfect hiding spot.It wasn’t a trashy, seedy place, though. Hotel Lily was one of the few love hotels in Kamurocho – and in all of Shinjuku – that was catered toward women. The place actually required for a woman to be the one to select and pay for a room. It was also a well-liked underground spot for lesbians. Too bad it wasn’t more popular, really.The interior was actually pretty chic, pink and white and minimal. The room that Yasuko was stowed away in had that wannabe classy European style to it, complete with a cheesy heart-shaped bed and a Jacuzzi. Nishiki already called Yasuko beforehand that he would be coming up with Kiryu, but also did the knock code that they agreed on when he arrived to the door. She gave them a wide-eyed look as she answered, but Nishiki sensed some relief through the tension.Yasuko sat at the foot of the bed while Kiryu and Nishiki stood off to the side. “Have you two met before?” Nishiki asked. He hadn’t thought about it until now.Kiryu nodded, while Yasuko said, “I’ve talked to Kiryu-san a few times when he’s come to pick up Haruka.” She bowed her head toward him, deeply. “T-Thank you, Kiryu-san, for helping Majima-san. I… can’t put into words how grateful I am.”“It’s nothing. Majima-san has helped me over the years, so it’s only right that I help him.” Kiryu looked like he was about to say more, but his phone rang. He stepped away to answer it. After a few seconds, he hung up and opened the door.Kazama, Kashiwagi, and two men with Kazama Family pins walked into the room. Nishiki automatically stood up straighter.Yasuko immediately stood and offered the bed to Kazama, as it was the only place to sit in the room. He accepted it, crossing his hands over his cane as he sat. Kashiwagi stood by his side, and the two Kazama Family men stood off behind them. Nishiki didn’t recognize either man, and he wasn’t sure if they recognized him. He made sure to look away, regardless.Kazama seemed to be surveying the room. His eyes landed on Yasuko, then Kiryu, then Nishiki. In fact, his eyes lingered on Nishiki. Nishiki tried his best to hold his gaze, but it was hard. This was all so fucking hard. Why was he doing this to himself?“Here’s the rundown,” Kazama started. No need to beat around the bush. “We are on high alert for the next forty-eight hours, since it’s highly suspected that Majima will strike against the Ueno Seiwa Clan over this weekend. We have also managed to deduce it’s highly likely that he’s hidden in Kamurocho and will likely draw out the Ueno Seiwa here.” Nishiki swallowed. Should he say that he saw Majima? No, he shouldn’t. He told Majima he wouldn’t. “Some members of the Ueno Seiwa have been spotted in town, likely doing reconnaissance. They haven’t made a move yet, but we’re keeping an eye on them. Some members of the Majima Family have been spotted back in town too, but the majority of their whereabouts are still unknown. They’re likely also hiding somewhere in town, or maybe even out of town.”Kazama looked at Nishiki. Shit. Here we go. “Nishikiyama, will you be on call for if Majima attacks the Ueno Seiwa Clan?”It was now or never. Nishiki could feel all eyes on him. Kazama’s expectance, Kashiwagi’s frigidness, Yasuko’s anticipation, Kiryu’s hope. It was like everyone was holding their breaths altogether.Nishiki nodded. Only for Saejima and Yasuko. Only for Kiryu. Only for himself.“Alright.” Kazama turned to Yasuko. “I’m leaving two of my men to look after you. You’ll be safe with them. If you need to contact me at any time, it can be done through them.” The aforementioned men standing behind him bowed toward Yasuko. “Kashiwagi and I will be at headquarters. Kazuma and Nishikiyama, stay in town and keep a low profile.” He stood up. He nodded toward his men before he went to the door.Kashiwagi followed a beat behind. He paused before he passed by Nishiki. “Looks like that bonus came early.” He squeezed Nishiki’s shoulder before he swiftly left after Kazama.God. Nishiki was about to pass out, vomit, or both. He barely remembered to mutter out an excuse before he went to the bathroom.The bathroom was covered in pink and hearts and glittery, even the toilet lid that Nishiki was sitting on was bedazzled. It made sense that women would like a place like this. He absentmindedly wondered what the staff was like. This hotel was one of those completely hidden staff, anonymous customer types – and he honestly didn’t really care, he was just trying to think about anything else but what he just agreed to because holy shit why did he agree to this this was so stupid he shouldn’t be here—“Nishiki.”Nishiki’s head shot up. Kiryu was walking in, closing the door behind him. Dammit. Nishiki should’ve locked it. Now Kiryu had to catch the aftermath of him hyperventilating.“I told you,” Nishiki said around a breathy laugh, “I lost my mind. This is what you signed up for.”Kiryu crouched down in front of him. He put his hands on Nishiki’s knees. “You didn’t lose your mind. You just lost your way. You’ve been isolated from the world for ten years. After being lost in the dark for so long, it’ll feel like the light will never come—but you did it. You made it to the other side. The light’s here. You just need to take the next step and walk into it.”All Nishiki could think was I hate him, as he blinked back tears. Because Saejima and his last words came to mind, “You’re gonna see the light of day, find yer place in the sun, and you’re gonna be an even better man than ya were before. The world is yers.” Because Kiryu was being way too kind and too patient with him – just like Yuko, just like Saejima, just like Yumi. What did Nishiki do to deserve friends and family like this? Absolutely nothing.“Kiryu…” Nishiki didn’t know what to say. He settled his hands over Kiryu’s. It suddenly struck him how much he missed Kiryu’s eyes. Their warmth, their shine, how he could never mask the emotion in them like he could with his face. And what were Kiryu’s eyes reading now? Restraint. “Just do it.”Kiryu blinked. “Huh?”“Do it.” Nishiki clenched his hands beneath Kiryu’s. “I thought we weren’t holding ourselves back anymore? If you wanna kiss me, just do it.”Kiryu blinked again, somehow looking even more confused. “What? How—?”At least Nishiki could pretend like he knew how to breathe again. “C’mon. You’re so obvious. Do it already.” Kiryu huffed through his nose, but he leaned up and pressed his lips against Nishiki’s, anyway.Kissing in your twenties was different than kissing in your thirties, especially when there’s been a ten-year gap in between. Kissing in your twenties was about the here and now, the we-might-not-get-to-do-this-again, about how soon each other’s tongues can get lost in each other’s mouths, about how fast you can map out the other’s body with your hands. Kissing in your thirties was about – change, slow, the now and the later, the we-might-not-get-to-do-this-again-but-that’s-okay.Twenties Kiryu was different than Thirties Kiryu, just like how Twenties Nishiki was different than Thirties Nishiki. Nishiki had to accept that. It was all in his kiss. In the fact that he was willing to be the one who initiated now, that he was pulling Nishiki closer.As Kiryu began to pull away, Nishiki murmured, “That’s it?” You can’t distract yourself from a distraction, but so be it. Better than nothing. “That’s all you got?”Kiryu took the bait and kissed him again, even pulled him down by the shoulder to make Nishiki meet him. It was a closer touch, a deeper kiss. Everything that Nishiki was trying to run away from in his twenties, that he was somehow allowed to chase after in his thirties, that he could maybe still have in his forties, fifties – if he made it that far. If Kiryu was still willing to put up with him for that long.“I missed you,” Kiryu murmured in between kisses. Nishiki sighed. His heart, what was left of it, hurt too much over the past week. “Did you miss me, too?” No, his heart was melting. Into nothing. Kiryu pulled back slightly, curled his fingers into his hair, thumbed at the corner of his lips. “Did you?”“I did,” Nishiki breathed out. He kissed at Kiryu’s fingertip. “I hated you, I missed you. It was a fucking mess.” In their twenties, Kiryu would’ve already been pressing his thumb against Nishiki’s tongue, Nishiki would’ve already been snaking a hand down Kiryu’s pants. But not now. Kiryu only traced his thumb beneath Nishiki’s lips before he kissed him again.“We should go.”Nishiki slowly opened his eyes. “Go where?”“Out. Anywhere.”For once, the logical voice in Nishiki’s head spoke up: “We shouldn’t.” But Kiryu softly kissing him again was quickly silencing what little logic he had left.“Let’s get breakfast.”“We already ate at the ryokan.”“Let’s get breakfast again.”So dumb. Nishiki should really say no. He really shouldn’t be going out in Kamurocho with Kiryu. The Dragon of Dojima and the Kin Slayer together, what would people think?“Nishiki?”Dammit. Nishiki wasn’t going to blame it on Kiryu’s soft voice or his softer lips. He was going to blame it on the concussion he surely got when the Dojimas kidnapped him, it had to be clouding his already shoddy judgment.“Fine,” he sighed. “Let’s go. Since you wanna take me out so bad.”
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Shichifuku Street
8:27
“Shit.” Nishiki glanced behind himself for the umpteenth time. Every person that passed by them – man, woman, and child – could not be trusted. It felt like anybody and everybody was staring at them. The people on the street and sidewalk were no longer people, but eyes. Just eyes. Everywhere. Watching. “We should go back. This was a bad idea—”A hand wrapped around his forearm. He nearly jumped out of a skin. Kiryu pulled him forward. “Calm down,” he simply said.“How am I supposed to calm down?” Nishiki snapped. Their faces were bare to the world. Why did their dumbasses go out without a way to conceal their faces? All Nishiki had was a scarf that he haphazardly tied around his face, up to his nose. “Everybody’s fucking looking at us!”Kiryu squeezed his arm tighter. “They’re not. Calm down,” he repeated.“I can’t.” If Nishiki could snap his fingers and instantly will himself to stop freaking out, he would. “Shit,” he kept muttering. He was close to digging his heels in, turning around, and running back to the hotel to rot in peace.All until Kiryu pulled him aside to the nearest empty alleyway. Nishiki let out a strangled breath once he was out of the crowd. If he could, he would drive his fingers into his palms, until he could feel the skin break around his nails, until he could redirect his mind to a new pain. But Kiryu was standing in front of him, concern heavy in his eyes, and the memory of him sadly looking over the scars on his palms last night made Nishiki decide to bite the inside of his cheek instead.“You’re thinking too hard,” Kiryu said, like it was all so easy.“I can’t just stop thinking,” Nishiki muttered, crossing his arms (or, more like wrapping his arms around himself). “People do that, you know? They think—and they don’t stop.”“What’re you thinking about?”“Us.” Duh. “What everyone thinks. They’re—” Nishiki glanced toward the side, where all of Kamurocho seemed to be walking by. “They’re fucking looking at us! See? We should go back.” The worst part was that Nishiki was aware of how crazy he sounded. That was the Kiryu Effect: his ability to turn you inside out without apparently doing a thing, being so sound that all around him seemed inherently unsound.Kiryu stepped into view, blocking off the exit of the alleyway, and therefore blocking the view of the people passing by it. “Think of us in a different way.” Whether it was a suggestion or a command, Nishiki gulped and did it.“Uh…” How would he think of them in a different way? What other options were there? “What, do you want me to pretend like nothing happened or something? Like we’re not… us?”Kiryu shook his head. “We’re not pretending. We’re us, but there’s a difference between us from the past and us right now. Just think about us right now.”“I know that,” Nishiki muttered, glancing away.“Right now, we’re new men on new paths. We’re going forward in a new way—on our own and together. Just think about that.”Only Kiryu could state the obvious and make it sound like something eye-opening, even if it wasn’t. But before Nishiki could remark as much, Kiryu suddenly stiffened and turned around. Two – no, three chinpira were swaggering up behind him.“Oi!” The tallest one called out. He was wearing an oversized T-shirt, had piercings all over his face, and a baseball bat slung over his shoulders. Maybe he was the so-called “leader” of the trio. “The fuck are ya geezers doing on our turf?!”Kiryu cranked up his scowl at them. “What?”“Is your hearing going out, old man?” Another one with spiky hair piped up, unsheathing a tanto. “Get the fuck outta here before it gets ugly!”“Can’t get any uglier,” Nishiki said under his breath. He watched as Kiryu easily knocked away the knife coming at him and threw the punk out the alleyway like he weighed nothing. (Well, everyone was weightless in Kiryu’s hands, of course.)The one with the bat looked more than shocked to see his buddy flying over his head and into the street, but shock quickly turned into rage and he came swinging at Kiryu. Kiryu only sidestepped from him. Looked like this one was heading toward Nishiki. Great. Kiryu’s solution to reassure him that people weren’t coming after him: send someone coming after him.The bat was more than easy to dodge. He only needed to duck once. These guys were below amateurs, really. Maybe Nishiki shouldn’t have been avoiding street fights after all. He got weaker, but the punks didn’t get stronger.He knew he didn’t have the strength to send the guy flying like Kiryu, though. It was time to mix prison and the streets with punk tactics.Nishiki forced his reluctance down his throat as he grabbed the barrel of the baseball bat when it came swinging again. Back in the day, he would’ve been able to lift this punk up by the bat and toss him aside. For now – because as Kiryu said, he was the Nishiki of right now – he pulled the chinpira closer by the bat, hard enough to knock him off balance so that he lost grip.With the bat in Nishiki’s hand, he hit the guy in the forehead with the knob before he flipped the bat around and made sure to swing at his jaw. Who didn’t like sweet chin music?The guy slammed into the wall across from them. He wasn’t getting up. Two down, one to go.Kiryu and Nishiki both turned to the last punk, wearing a pair of baggy jeans and carrying his own tanto. The guy’s eyes and hands were shaking, enough for him to drop his knife. He made an unseemly high-pitched sound as he fell to his knees and bowed over and over again to Kiryu.“W-We’re sorry for causing you trouble, sirs!” He quickly dug into his pockets and held up a stack of yen toward them. “I-If I pay you, will you forgive us?”Kiryu Kazuma, former Tojo Clan double patriarch and superstar CEO, certainly didn’t need a low-level street punk’s money, but he took it anyway – since old habits die hard. Kiryu even made a show of counting out the bills as the guy shriveled into a ball on the dirty alleyway cement.He split the bills and gave Nishiki half. “We can get full breakfast sets at Café Alps with this.” And Nishiki knew he wasn’t supposed to, but he couldn’t help but think of past Kiryu in that moment, because he would’ve said the same thing if they were young, broke, and hungry after scoring some money after a fight.Nishiki snorted as he took the money. “Do they still make beef curry?”Kiryu nodded. “And they got pasta now, too.” He slung his arm over Nishiki’s shoulders as they walked out of the alleyway, stepping over the guy Nishiki knocked out, and the people on the streets started to look more like people, not eyes.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Café Alps
8:46
The Café Alps that Nishiki remembered back in the day sold typical café stuff: coffee, tea, parfaits, cakes, and whatnot. The only heavy thing on the menu was their original beef curry, which Nishiki would usually order. The place had been a go-to date spot for him back in the ‘90s. What girls didn’t like cafés and guys buying tea and cakes for them? It was a sure way for him to get into girls’ hearts, keep them coming back, and for everyone else to get off his case.What about the reverse? How did it feel to be on the receiving end, to have a guy be the one taking him out? Well, it was kinda weird. Weird in a good way, weird in a Kiryu way.They both had cups of coffee, the expensive Blue Mountain kind since they were spending someone else’s money. Kiryu ordered the toast set and Nishiki ordered the beef curry, and it was easy to imagine that they were other people. Yeah, Kiryu said not to do it, but Nishiki couldn’t help it. What if they were simply two men, eating together, and nothing more? What would that be like?“Nishiki,” Kiryu called out. He handed over a piece of toast. Just because.Nishiki dragged his spoon through his curry, split the toast in half and watched as the melted butter dripped down to the crust. He thought about it again. No past, no future, no imaginary circumstances. What were they now?It was easier to think of what they weren’t. They weren’t a man and a woman. They weren’t husband and wife. They weren’t boyfriends. They weren’t lovers. They weren’t friends. They weren’t brothers. They weren’t partners. Those things were imaginary. Those were things from the past. What were they now?“You should’ve got this,” Kiryu said, offhandedly pointing his fork toward his fried eggs. “Eggs can help rebuild muscle.”“I can’t believe I forgot how much of a meathead you are.” Nishiki bit into the toast Kiryu gave him for no reason. What were they now?“I think you’re faster, though.” Kiryu took a bite of his own toast. “I liked seeing you fight again.”“I almost forgot about your fighting fetish, too. Perv.”Maybe the Kiryu before would’ve been easily flustered, would’ve scrambled to defend himself, that it totally wasn’t a “fetish” to like to watch men fight, to seek out the strongest man to get your hands all over. He didn’t do that now. He shook his head as he sipped his coffee. All he said was, “I’ve always liked watching you,” and an involuntary shudder went down Nishiki’s spine.What were they now? Nishiki leaned back in his seat and allowed his knee to bump against Kiryu’s underneath the table, and he decided that it didn’t matter. No words, labels, or definitions could confine the great unknown thing in between them – that Nishiki used to be scared to death over, that he was still thinking about if it was worth finally falling over the edge and never going back.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Reina’s Apartment
9:39
Kiryu got three slices of the café’s trademark strawberry shortcake to-go and hailed a taxi, not telling Nishiki where they were going. (“Are we going to your place, or…?” “It’s a surprise.” “I hate surprises.” “Since when?” “Since they got me sent to jail.” “Hm.”) Wherever they were going, Kiryu called beforehand, asking if the person was awake, and then reassuring to them that everything was fine, he just wanted to visit. That just made things worse, because who the hell were they about to visit?They stopped at a cluster of apartments a little ways outside of the district. The complex looked like it was on the newer side. Nishiki didn’t recognize it. It was likely built while he was locked up. And things got even worse, because whose house were they going to? What the hell was going on?Nishiki hung back as Kiryu led the way, up to the fourth floor of the building. While Yumi’s apartment wasn’t bad, this building appeared to be in better shape. Likely because it was newer.It only took two knocks before the door opened. “Kiryu-chan, what’s going on?” Oh. “I can’t remember the last time you visited me. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to stop by.”Nishiki sucked in a deep breath through his nose before he stepped out from behind Kiryu. Reina, out of her work clothes and wearing simple loungewear, gasped. “Nishikiyama-kun!” Her wide eyes darted between Kiryu and Nishiki. “You’re both here—? Together—?” She let out a quiet sound of disbelief. “Am I dreaming?”“No,” Nishiki said as Kiryu shook his head.“I… can’t believe it.” Reina tried to snap out of her surprise, but he could tell she was still dazed. She stepped aside. “Come in, please! Make yourselves at home. I just set some tea.”As Nishiki took off his shoes in the genkan, he looked around. Reina used to live in a different apartment back in the day, a much more rundown one. Unlike Kiryu, Nishiki, and Yumi, Reina didn’t move around too much. Then again, she had a steady means of income, unlike Kiryu and Nishiki who made more and more as they eventually moved up the ranks, and Yumi who frequently switched between jobs.This apartment looked a lot better. Nishiki thought back on Reina’s old apartment, where the water would run cold too easily and there were too many holes in the walls to his liking. Reina said she didn’t need much and didn’t see the point in constantly upgrading like they did, but Nishiki had thought of it as her just settling, not accepting that she could get more in life, that she deserved more.Reina excitedly directed them to the living room, where a kotatsu was already pulled out. The format seemed similar to Yumi’s apartment, where the kitchen and living room areas were connected and the bedroom was separated into its own room.Her old place had been a studio, and it had been cluttered with her clothes and various things she collected over the years – photographs, exclusive bottles of various alcohol, books, records and CDs. Now, it looked like she had enough room to stack up everything on shelves, to shove them into closets. There was a wall with taped up photographs all over it, though.“What are you looking at, Nishikiyama-kun?” Nishiki perked up. Kiryu was already sitting on the floor at the table, setting up the cake he bought. Reina had already followed where Nishiki’s eyes were looking, at her wall of pictures. “Ah. You can take a closer look if you like.” He felt obligated to follow after her.Reina immediately pointed out to a picture toward the upper left. “Do you remember when we took this?” The photo was of Nishiki and Reina, and damn. They looked so young. They were at a restaurant that Nishiki didn’t recognize, with both of them widely smiling, his arm slung over Reina’s shoulders, holding a beer bottle. There was a birthday cake with sparkler candles in front of them.“My birthday?” Nishiki guessed.She nodded. “It was your first birthday that we celebrated altogether. We took you out to this restaurant that was around at the time. It was only open for less than a year, but the food was pretty good.” She hummed at the memory. She pointed at another picture, toward the bottom right. “Do you remember this?It was a photo of Nishiki and Yuko. They were both soaking wet, wearing matching T-shirts depicting the Fukuoka Tower with the year “1990” printed across the front, and she was caught in a laugh. Nishiki was carrying Yuko on one shoulder and a Kakiyama float was being carried behind them – which had to be ten meters high and one-ton heavy, and was an awe-inspiring amalgamation of temples, gods, goddesses, creatures, monks, fires, and rivers.“I remember this.” Nishiki traced his finger over the photo, as if he would be able to feel Yuko through it. He could still feel how happy she was that day, as if it was only yesterday. “When we all went to Hakata for the water-throwing festival.”Reina’s smile was so warm. He suddenly realized that her hair was down. He couldn’t help but think of the ‘80s. “Mm. And do you remember what happened to Kiryu-chan?”Kiryu huffed from behind them, so it probably wasn’t a good thing. “What?” Nishiki asked.“One of the float runners collapsed, so they asked Kiryu-chan to help carry the float for them since he looked strong enough to do it.” Reina laughed behind her hand. “But Kiryu-chan was too strong! He practically carried the float by himself and outran everyone. All the other men carrying the float got dragged along by him.”Nishiki snorted to himself. He didn’t remember that part, but he could easily visualize it. “Please tell me you have a picture of him wearing a fundoshi.”“No,” Kiryu groaned.“No, no. Of course not.” Reina winked and pointed to a nearby picture, of Kiryu in a fundoshi, face as stern as ever, being lifted into the air by a crowd of men also in fundoshi. “They called him the One-Ton Man,” she whispered, “and we all got free drinks because he helped out.”She pointed out a couple more pictures, of other times they went out together, but Nishiki found his eyes going to the photos Reina pointedly wasn’t talking about – such as a picture of her holding a baby, sitting on a futon next to Yumi. That had to be baby Haruka, he guessed. Or a picture of everyone wearing black suits and black kimono, with a woman (what was her name; Akane? Akeno? Akemi?) in the center holding up a formal portrait of Shinji. That had to be Shinji’s funeral, Nishiki guessed. That explained why no one had mentioned him.Nishiki, ever the self-flagellator, tried to look for possible wedding pictures between Kiryu and Yumi. There weren’t any. He wondered why.“Nishikiyama-kun, the tea’s ready,” Reina called out. Nishiki tore his eyes away from the photo wall.He sat next to Kiryu at the kotatsu, both of them across from Reina. She poured all of them cups of tea and thanked them for the cake, for visiting, for thinking of her. Nishiki didn’t eat or drink. He just wrapped his hands around his cup and allowed his fingers to warm.“I’m sorry.” Reina lightly laughed. “I’m still surprised. I can’t believe you two are together.”“Is it that surprising?” Nishiki asked.“Of course it is.” She took a bite of her cake with a hum. “I’m assuming that you two managed to pick up where you left off?”“You can say that,” Kiryu said, and only Nishiki could pick up on the hidden intentions behind his words. He bumped at Kiryu’s leg underneath the table. Kiryu didn’t react.“I’m glad.” Reina clasped her hands together. “When you called me asking if you could meet with Nishikiyama-kun, I was so nervous for the both of you. I kept thinking what if you two weren’t able to be friends again, what if everything didn’t work out…? What if I never saw you two again?”“Reina, don’t be so dramatic,” Nishiki tried to reassure, but he understood her. “Nothing can tear us apart. ‘Til death do us part, right?” Kiryu nodded. “And, uh,” the mood definitely needed to be lightened before it slipped, “I can’t believe Kiryu called you directly. I told him to let Kazuki from Stardust call you.”Kiryu shrugged. Reina’s smile began to brighten. “You sound a lot better, Nishikiyama-kun.”“Eh?”“I mean, you sound like yourself again. You were so quiet when we first talked. It’s almost been a week since then, hasn’t it?” She looked back and forth between them, still with a trace of disbelief in her eyes. “This is all I ever wanted—for Nishikiyama-kun to come back, for you two to remain friends.” She sighed. Despite Nishiki’s efforts, her smile turned sad. “If only Yumi-chan was here, too.”Nishiki felt himself slightly tense. He glanced at Kiryu, who actually didn’t look tense. In fact, he was reaching over to where he discarded his coat across the couch and started searching through his pockets. He pulled out a pen and a piece of paper – remnants of a businessman lifestyle. He quietly wrote something down and passed the paper to Reina.She looked over it in confusion. “What’s this?”“Yumi’s address and phone number,” Kiryu answered.It was like time stopped for Reina. Nishiki understood. Reina hadn’t talked to Yumi in four years now. He understood when she covered her mouth with her hand, tried to blink back the tears that came to her eyes. “T-Thank you, Kiryu-chan.” She clutched the paper to her chest. “Thank you.”Kiryu shook his head. “Don’t thank me. I’m sorry for…” He moved his mouth like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. Nishiki understood him, too.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Kiryu’s Apartment
13:54
They stayed at Reina’s for hours and hours, talking about anything and everything. Enough time passed for them to make lunch together. Before they left, Reina asked them what they were going to do next, after Majima, after the week was over. Kiryu told her he didn’t know, but they were going to figure it out together.Kiryu hailed another cab and they were taken to another apartment complex, but this one looked expensive. Nishiki could tell just from the outside, because the place looked more like a glass tower than your typical, everyman complex.“Is this your place?” Nishiki asked. Kiryu nodded.Yumi and Reina’s apartments were part of exterior buildings. This place was an interior building. They had to go through a quick security clearance before they were fully let in. Talk about secure. Made sense. How many stories of superiors being found dead in their own beds did Nishiki hear about.Kiryu’s apartment was surprisingly clean. Looked like he finally grew up and learned how to pick up after himself. But there wasn’t much else to it. There wasn’t anything particularly spectacular about the furniture or décor. The place was pretty barren. Kiryu probably didn’t spend a lot of time at home.“You want a drink?” Kiryu asked from the kitchen.If a man took Nishiki to his apartment alone and offered something to drink straight away, it usually meant he wanted to fuck him, kill him, or both. Nishiki knew Kiryu wanted to do none of the above, for the better or worse. Without meaning to, he was always the suspenseful type.“Sure.” Nishiki felt too awkward to sit, so he just stood near the kitchen and watched as Kiryu poured two glasses of Scotch. They leaned against opposite sides of the kitchen counter and drank. Nishiki only said, “Nice place,” to fill in the silence.Which Kiryu easily saw through. He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his drink. “The lease ends this month.”“There you go starting in the middle again,” Nishiki muttered over the rim of his glass. “You’re moving out?”“Probably.”“Are you planning on leaving Kamurocho, too?” Escaping the Tojo and Kamurocho all in one month – so much for making your dreams come true.“Probably,” Kiryu repeated. He downed the rest of his glass.“What comes after Kamurocho?” It was more of a hypothetical question than anything.What came after the Tojo Clan? What came after Kamurocho? They never thought ahead that far. Maybe they were both expecting to live and die by the clan. Maybe they were both expecting to become the kind of big-time patriarchs who were living fossils, who got buried with honors, who got large portraits hung up in the HQ, and who had family lineages so long that people didn’t even remember who the originators were anymore – to be more legend than man.Kiryu looked down at his empty glass for a long second. “Chiba?” He said it like it was a question. He didn’t know where to go next. “To be closer to Haruka.”The words left Nishiki’s mouth before he could think twice: “Just move in with Yumi.”Now. Now, Kiryu tensed up.Nishiki tightened his hand around his glass. I told you so, was the only thing he could think. I told you I’m going to say something that pisses you off. I told you I’m going to fuck up. It only gets worse from here.Kiryu closed his eyes. This was it. This was the moment when he got out while he still could, when he realized that Nishiki wasn’t worth sticking with after all.“She still loves you, you know,” Nishiki tacked on, sinking the knife in deeper because he could, to convince Kiryu. “She shouldn’t, but she’d take you back. You could move in with her, get back with her, raise your kid together. Everybody lives happily ever fucking after.” He finished the last of his drink. “Your kid misses you, too. You should’ve seen her face when she said you couldn’t show up for her birthday—”“Nishiki.” Kiryu’s voice was low, but not pissed for some reason. “No.”“No?”“I can’t.” The tension in Kiryu’s shoulders began to loosen. At least Nishiki was a little surer that he wasn’t going to get thrown across the kitchen. “That door’s closed.”“It’s never too late to do the right thing.” What a damn lie. I can’t even believe that.“That’s what I’m doing now. I’m doing the right thing with you.”Fuck. Nishiki needed more Scotch. Where the hell was the bottle? He turned away from Kiryu and searched through the cabinets as he cursed to himself.“The lease for your apartment ends this month, too,” Kiryu said to his back.“What? That’s not my apartment.” Found it. Nishiki drank straight from the bottle. Not enough to get drunk, but enough to feel something. “I’m not staying there.”“Where will you stay?”“I don’t know. Not here.” Nishiki tilted the bottle toward Kiryu. He shook his head. Nishiki put the bottle away. “I just wanna get this shitty week over with and never come back.” Kiryu nodded. “Maybe I should get out of Tokyo, too.” He didn’t really mean that, either. He didn’t have any plans for after next week. It just felt right to say. As in, of course, Nishikiyama Akira should get out of Kamurocho and maybe also Tokyo altogether. But where to? Who knows. Anywhere would be better.A beat. Nishiki watched as Kiryu rounded around the counter toward him, then leaned beside him, letting their arms brush together.“I’ll go wherever you go.”Nishiki crossed his arms. “What if I want to move to the mountains or something? What if I want to live somewhere where it’ll take you ten hours to visit your kid?” Why was Nishiki setting down so many verbal bear traps? He didn’t give Kiryu a chance to answer, “Just move to Chiba, be with your family. Don’t worry about me.”“Stay with me.”“Why?”“We promised.”Not you. Not I. We.Nishiki looked at Kiryu from the corner of his eye. Underneath the warm lights of the kitchen, he looked softer, like someone who could never break a promise. The part of Nishiki that still burned for him, the Nishiki of the past who always pulled him closer just to push him away, wanted to believe.He tried to imagine it: living in an apartment with Kiryu in Chiba. Yumi and Haruka could visit. Reina and Yasuko, too. Then what? Christmas was coming on. They could celebrate it together and act like nothing was wrong. Or no, they would know something was wrong. More like everything is wrong. And they were supposed to work it out, work each other out, work things out for the better.How did that sound? Like a faraway fantasy, and fantasies aren’t meant to come true. Look where dreaming got them. They thought they were working their way to the top but they just dug themselves deeper and deeper into the bottom.Kiryu nudged his arm. “You’re thinking too hard.”“You’re not thinking enough,” Nishiki muttered.He wished he was drunk. He wished he had double vision so he could see two Kiryus. It would be easier that way, to separate two Kiryus and to neatly categorize them – past and present, old and new, dream and nightmare, withdrawing and inviting, dead and alive, love and hate.Kiryu traced his fingers down Nishiki’s arm until he touched the palm of his hand. “What are you thinking about?”“You.” Nishiki closed his hand around Kiryu’s. “What are you thinking about?”“You.”Kiryu didn’t hesitate to lean in this time. He kissed Nishiki, and his vision was no longer blurred. When he closed his eyes, only one Kiryu remained: the one who still wanted him – for whatever reason beyond his understanding, the one who he was allowed to want back – for whatever reason outside of his reach.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Kiryu’s Apartment
17:55
They smoked on the balcony together. They kissed again. Kiryu suggested that they change into black suits underneath their coats. Kiryu’s clothes hung limply on Nishiki – always a little too big – but he felt warmer beneath his coat. When it got dark, Kiryu offered to get dinner, but Nishiki felt too on edge to eat. He let the impending sense of doom speak for him, he predicted the phone call twelve seconds before Kiryu got it.It was Kazama, as Nishiki guessed. On speakerphone, he said Majima has been spotted at the top of the Millennium Tower holding the Chairman of the Ueno Seiwa Clan, Ueno Yoshiharu, hostage – kidnapped by the Majima Family from the hospital. More Ueno Seiwa members have flooded into Kamurocho and are attempting to storm the Tojo Clan headquarters and the Millennium Tower in retaliation.“This is an obvious attempt to draw out the Ueno Seiwa Clan, especially Katsuragi. This is his final act of revenge for Saejima,” Kazama said. There was yelling in the background, but his voice came across clearly. “We’re handling things at the headquarters. You and Nishikiyama go to the tower.” He hung up.Nishiki checked his pockets. His tanto was in his left pocket, his gun was in his right. Kiryu pulled him in by the forearm and kissed him before they left. “Just in case,” he murmured.“Yeah. Why not?” Nishiki kissed him back. “Just in case.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
18:06
Kamurocho was in chaos.Tojo Clan and Ueno Seiwa Clan members were brawling in the streets, scaring off civilians or pulling them into the crossfire. It was as if the battling yakuza were the veins, carrying hemotoxic venom toward the Millennium Tower, which was the heart of it all – the new venomous heart of the snake pit. Where it all was going to end tonight.Kiryu hit about two or three Ueno Seiwa men with his car, and maybe one Tojo man, as he pulled up to the tower, damn near driving through it. For some reason, he snorted through his nose as they hopped out of the car.“What?” Nishiki called out, hopefully loud enough to be heard over the fighting.“Just thinking about the time Tachibana hit Kuze with his car.” Of course Kiryu would think about the time a man hit another man with a car for him with fond nostalgia in the middle of a brawl. It was easy to forget that sometimes he could be just as much of a sick weirdo as Nishiki was.No time to reminisce, though. A group of Ueno Seiwa men were blocking the entrance to the tower. Nishiki could feel a sigh release from his shoulders. They were going to have to fight their way to the top, weren’t they? This is gonna be a long night.“Kiryu-san!”Kiryu whipped his head to the left. There was a woman, obviously a civilian, throwing a bottle of champagne Kiryu’s way. Kiryu caught it by the neck with one hand.“Hiroshi-kun!”Nishiki sighed as he turned to the right. There was the Shin Soba owner, the one who had been seconds away from shitting his pants and was the first to mistake him for “Hiroshi,” tossing a pot Nishiki’s way. Nishiki managed to catch it by the handle.Kiryu and Nishiki only needed to glance at each other once before Kiryu began to shake the bottle and Nishiki unlidded the pot. The group of men guarding the entrance now spotted them through the chaos and rushed toward them.Nishiki smashed the lid of the pot against one guy’s head before hurling the boiling water and soba toward the rest of the men. They immediately recoiled back, grabbing at their burned faces.“Order up!” Kiryu said as he sprayed champagne at everyone, further blinding them. Nishiki slammed the pot against the back of a guy who was aimlessly trying to swing at them.Now Nishiki was the one almost laughing as they ran inside of the tower. “Brings back memories, huh?” he called out. Kiryu snorted again.Again, no time to reminisce. There were a multitude of Ueno Seiwa men occupying the first floor, some of them fighting with other Tojo men. Shit. Nishiki clenched his fists and held them up. Since when did the Ueno Seiwa Clan have so many people? Weren’t they a shit-tier clan that just rode off the Tojo’s coattails to stay afloat? Did they somehow manage to double in size while Nishiki was locked up? Who the hell willingly joined the Ueno Seiwa? They weren’t cool – at all. Absolutely no style.Who cared. Now wasn’t the time for thinking. Nishiki tried his best to reduce his mind into fight mode, not flight mode. Street fight mode, specifically. Not prison fight mode. He wasn’t going to push himself to that point unless it was necessary.Obviously, Kiryu had a much easier time. He was plowing through the men like they were sheets of tissue paper. Nishiki more so relied on speed. The adrenaline pumping through his arms and legs was helpful in that aspect. Before anyone could attempt to lay a hand on him, he just sideswept their legs and stomped their chests, backs, and faces into the tower’s shiny, epoxy floors.In the middle of mashing a guy’s face into a podium, Nishiki suddenly felt a presence behind him. He caught a Ueno Seiwa punk running at him with a knife – specifically, a rusted tanto (stay classy, Kamurocho) – aiming for his side. Shit. Nishiki couldn’t get caught up like this. It was like his spatial awareness overworked when he didn’t need it, underworked when he did need it.Before he could react, surely a second too late, a fist was meeting the punk’s face and he flew across the room, into the growing pile of unconscious and barely breathing bodies.Without thinking about it, Nishiki muttered, “Thanks, kyodai,” and a blink-and-you-miss-it, unreadable expression flickered across Kiryu’s face.But all he said was, “C’mon,” and led Nishiki to the escalators. “There’s a staff-only elevator up here.” Nishiki glanced back. There were more men coming in, they looked like both Ueno Seiwa and Tojo. Shit. It was never ending. Oh well. Not Kiryu and Nishiki’s problem. The Tojo could clean up the bottom floor. Kiryu and Nishiki were worried about the man on the top: Majima Goro.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
18:12
Kiryu kept punching in a code into the elevator’s panel but it refused to move to the roof. He tried the top floor. It still wouldn’t budge. He slammed his hand against the panel a few times before he let out a frustrated huff and chose the second-to-last floor. He muttered a curse under his breath when the elevator finally moved.“What?” Nishiki was shaking his leg, biting into the skin of his lips. He couldn’t help it. He ran his thumbs over his long-bruised knuckles, trying to stop their tremble.“Whoever’s on the top floor is blocking access to the top floor and the roof.” Kiryu was, as always, seemingly the shining image of serenity. He wasn’t bouncing from foot to foot like Nishiki, but kept his eyes locked in on the elevator doors as they went up and up and up. “Mine,” he muttered. He seemed to be thinking aloud.“What’s his deal?” Nishiki asked – half-curious, half-seeking a distraction. It was like his heart was trying to climb out of his throat.Kiryu shook his head. “I don’t know.” It seemed like that was all he had to say about Mine. It seemed like he truly just did not understand the man.The elevator dinged. They were on the penultimate floor. Showtime. But who was going to show up? As if Kiryu read Nishiki’s mind, he hastily explained, “This floor’s my business’s. Family office’s on the top floor.” He led them to take an immediate left down the hallway.“Show off,” was all that Nishiki could manage to mutter before he blindly threw his fist out to the left on reflex. It was like the left side of his face was screaming due to a sudden presence that jumped at him. He swung at it without thinking twice.His hand connected with a face and knocked whoever over. He spared the person a quick glance down. It was a Majima Family member. Easy to tell from the gratuitous shirtlessness and fallen flamethrower.When Nishiki looked back up, Kiryu was already down the hall. There were even more people at the end of the hallway, fighting even harder than the people in the streets and the tower lobby. If Nishiki had to guess, it was Majima Family members versus… salarymen. The same fucking pencil pushers that tried to jump Nishiki yesterday.But Nishiki didn’t feel angry or vengeful or anything like that. He felt kinda irritated, sure. Yet he found himself feeling mostly sorry for the men in a small, twisted way. They were getting their asses kicked – badly. Your average office worker obviously didn’t stand a chance against a member of possibly the most contentious, masochistic family in Tojo Clan history.But they were fighting like they did. One worker had taken off his jacket and was whipping at the knife-wielding hand of a Majima man, while another had taken off his shoes and was indiscriminately throwing them into the crowd. Nishiki didn’t expect any less. They truly were Iron Trust employees. They were fighting with all their might. Even if they were just office workers, those who served under Kiryu didn’t go down without giving everything they had.Nishiki zoned back in on Kiryu, who made it to the end of the hall. It wasn’t difficult to place him with the way that his workers turned to him and began shouting his name – in shock, in anger, in despair.An employee laid out on the floor near the door Kiryu was trying to open grabbed at Kiryu’s leg, crying out, “President Kiryu!”Time froze. Dramatic? Sure, but Nishiki didn’t know what the fallen man’s intentions were. What if this guy was pissed that Kiryu left the company and was going to take advantage of the chaos to get revenge? What if he was pretending to lay on the ground the entire time to wait for his chance to strike? Nishiki was on the other side of the hall, he wouldn’t be able to make it to Kiryu in time.Still, he tried. He shoved through the brawling bodies to try to make it to Kiryu. It was like his body moved on its own. It had to, or else his mind would force his body to second guess itself.“President Kiryu!” The fallen man called out again. He was holding on even tighter to Kiryu’s leg. And Nishiki knew that Kiryu was only being held in place by his own will and sense of obligation, no one could hold him down. But – shit. Nishiki was almost there. What if the guy pulled a knife out of nowhere and—? “I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”“What?” Kiryu said, voice effortlessly cutting through the fighting.“I’m sorry!” Nishiki could see tears streaming down the fallen man’s face. “It’s Mine-san—! He’s on the top floor with the Dojima Family! Stop him, please! I-I’m sorry!”This could’ve gone any way. At least, in Nishiki’s eyes it could’ve gone any way. How many times has someone cried and “apologized” to them before literally stabbing them in the back? But the way it went was like this: the fallen worker sobbed and bowed his head repeatedly, damn near slamming it against the blood-riddled floor. And Kiryu, of course, who had endless space in his ever-forgiving heart, gripped on to the man’s shoulder as he said, “It’s okay. What’s done is done.”The man remained crying on the floor. He only moved to tremble as Nishiki finally approached them. Kiryu spared Nishiki a quick glance before he turned back to the door he had been trying to open, and ceremoniously kicked it wide open.The sight that greeted them could only be described as organized chaos. It was a large office space with broken computers and miscellaneous papers and folders littered all over the floor. Nishiki assumed that the room had been neatly divided into rows of cubicles before, but now the cubicle partitions were knocked over and the desk tables were stacked together into a makeshift fortress that formed a haphazard semicircle in the back of the room.There was a large, white banner hanging from the top of the fortress that read “Congratulations on your retirement, President Kiryu! May you find your purpose in the next life!” To Nishiki, that read like a very formal death threat – and it was creepy as hell, too.A sudden furious chorus of “President Kiryu!” nearly made Nishiki jump out of his skin. Even more salarymen with ties wrapped around their foreheads jumped from behind the stacked desks, ripping the banner down with them as they charged toward Kiryu.Usually, Nishiki would lament being seen as invisible by Kiryu’s side, but he used it to his advantage for now. He picked up a broken computer monitor near his feet and flung it toward the men, knocking a few down. This managed to bring a little attention on him. Good.One of the men stopped going after Kiryu and angrily pointed a stapler at him. “Is that the guy Mine-san told us—?!” Nishiki knocked him out with a cubicle partition.Glancing at Kiryu as he knocked another guy out, it looked like he had gotten the same idea. He was practically bulldozing through the men with a partition in each hand. Good thing Iron Trust used steel cubicle walls instead of fabric ones. Great for offense.It was like they were hardly breaking a sweat to fight through Kiryu’s workers, as expected. Which just made Nishiki wait for the other shoe to drop. It did when the doors opened again as the last worker fell – and in came the Majima Family men.A shirtless man covered in piercings and uncolored tattoo lines (who honestly looked like if someone dried to draw Majima from memory) led the charge with a bottle of liquor in one hand and a lighter in the other. “Just wanna say I ain’t got nothing against y’all!” he called out as more Majima boys rushed in. “Just followin’ oyaji’s orders!”“What orders?” Kiryu grunted out.The man smirked as he popped off the cap of the bottle. “Boss said no ‘Kiryu-chans’ allowed on the roof.” Even the way he spoke was like a poor imitation of Majima. Nishiki wasn’t lying when he said that the Majima Family was fanatical, right? The man then proceeded to chug the bottle of liquor down at a concerning speed.No time to stop and stare, though. The Majima men were coming up hot. Kiryu and Nishiki only needed to spare a split-second glance at each other and it was like their sense of telepathy never left. They both instantly gunned it for the desk fortress toward the back of the room, where the salarymen had jumped out of. Why? For one, because the men approaching them had flamethrowers, knives, and spiked bats – and they definitely didn’t feel like dealing with that shit. For two, maybe Kiryu’s workers had left some weapons behind that they didn’t get to fully equip before they got their asses kicked.Nishiki, always the nimbler one, managed to make his way to the top of the fort with ease. He gave a quick look up ahead as he offered a hand down to help Kiryu up faster. The man who had been drinking at an alarming speed was now spitting fire at them. Yeah. They had to get the hell out of here. Fighting against crazy spewed forth no victors.Kiryu had always been rock solid, which equaled to him being heavy. He was certainly heavier now, and Nishiki was certainly lighter now. It must have been the adrenaline that was still pumping through him that gave him the push to pull Kiryu over. Otherwise, he surely wouldn’t have been able to.Kiryu said, “Thanks, kyodai,” once they landed on their feet on the other side of the fort. And Nishiki felt his heart instantly skip a beat then double the next one. He blamed it on the adrenaline because he didn’t have time to overthink the “kyodai” thing again.Thankfully, the fort had been blocking the office’s exit. Nishiki pulled a desk forward to collapse the fort inward toward them as Kiryu kicked the door open. Using the fallen desks as an obstruction should give them enough time to run off. He could hear the Majima men still shouting and trying to move the barricade of desks from the door as they took off. They ran, with Kiryu leading the way down an eerily empty hallway to a staircase.“Are we going straight to the roof?” Nishiki asked as they ran upstairs. He wasn’t sure if it was his heart hammering in his ears or if he could hear footsteps behind him.Kiryu shook his head. “These stairs only lead to the top floor. Only way to get to the roof is by the elevator or from the top floor.”Nishiki sighed. Life was constantly one thing stacked in front of another. “Isn’t that against building safety regulations or something?”Kiryu shrugged. They reached the door to the top floor. His knuckles turned white as he grabbed the handle and threw it open.It was silent. No one fighting in the hallway. No one waiting in the shadows to jump them. Nothing.They walked quickly but with their defenses up. The bitter part of Nishiki’s brain decided to light up suddenly, with Nishiki offhandedly registering that this was Kiryu’s family office – settled on the top floor of a skyscraper that was built upon the same plot of land that they had shed their blood, sweat, and tears over, that too many people lost their lives over.This isn’t fair, the bitter spot in his mind hissed out. It isn’t fair, he mentally agreed as he waved the thought away before it could double down and nauseate him. Nothing that happened to him was fair. That was simply a fact of life, true since the day he was born into the unrelenting world and its unforgiving nature. He was just exhausted from being so angry and so sad every time it beat him down.It isn’t fair, he thought to himself again as Kiryu silently pointed at the end of the hall, toward two large doors with a plaque lacquered in his name. He was tired from enduring so much pain. He was tired of being tired. He let a new thought, small and uncertain, enter his mind instead: Let it end tonight.He watched Kiryu’s shoulders slowly rise and fall as he took in a deep breath, let it fill his body, and closed his eyes. Could they let everything go tonight? Was it possible? Or were they just working on false hope and borrowed time, as they always were? Were they in too deep? Was there no letting go? Was death the only way out after all?Kiryu’s eyes snapped open, dark and ready, as he pushed the doors open.The doors opened way to yet another large office space. While the one on the previous floor looked like your typical office where your average man would attend their average work, this space screamed yakuza through and through. A wooden round table took up a majority of the room – and sitting all around the table were dozens of scowling men with Dojima Family pins attached to their lapels. The only man without a pin was sitting at the head of the table with his hands folded beneath his chin, looking at Kiryu and Nishiki with a cool air of expectance.“Good evening, Kiryu-san,” the man said in a voice that was somehow both grave yet stone cold.“Mine,” Kiryu muttered. Oh. So, this was the infamous Mine Yoshitaka, the perpetual thorn in Kiryu and Nishiki’s sides? Nishiki subconsciously cracked his knuckles. He couldn’t wait to beat this guy’s ass.But. No one was moving. No one was talking. It even felt like no one was breathing. The tension in the room only went up and up and up, yet it just expanded, not releasing itself. Nishiki never took his eyes off of Mine, who never took his eyes off of Kiryu – and the Dojima men, Kiryu’s former men, never took their eyes off of Kiryu, either.“Nishikiyama Akira-san.” Nishiki nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes never left Mine the entire time, but it still took him a second to register that Mine’s mouth had moved and called out his name. “Arrested on October 1, 1995 for the murder of Dojima Sohei, the First Patriarch of the Dojima Family.” A few of the Dojima men’s scowls deepened. “Released on December 5, 2005 after serving ten years for first-degree murder.”Nishiki cracked his knuckles again. He chose to remain silent.“I do not personally subscribe to the idea of penological rehabilitation and social reintegration,” Mine went on. “People are ultimately selfish and unchanging. It’s human nature. Once a murderer, always a murderer. There is no ‘saving’ you. No need to delude yourself.” His eyes flicked back over to Kiryu. “Once a deserter, always a deserter. There is no ‘saving’ yourself, no matter how much you may run from your responsibilities. It’s too late.”“Mine,” Kiryu said again, this time between his teeth. “Stop.”“Stop what? Telling the truth, believing in logic? I don’t believe I have done anything wrong, have I?” The Dojima men simultaneously shook their heads. What the fuck? This is how they acted in the presence of their former patriarch? “No, I have not. I’m not the one who has lost their senses.”“If you really think you’ve done nothing wrong, then…” Kiryu only shook his head. He was too gracious, too much of a believer in the good in people, to say then you’re too far gone. “I still don’t get why you’re so upset with me, but I don’t have time to figure it out. Let us go, Mine.”“If you wish to know why I’m ‘upset’ with you, Kiryu-san, then simply look to your right.” Kiryu gave a cautionary glance to his right, where Nishiki was standing. Mine pushed his chair back with a dark chuckle as he got to his feet. The Dojima Family men followed after. Kiryu and Nishiki immediately dug their heels into their defensive stances. All roads led to fighting. It was inevitable. “Enough with the small talk. This will be your last battle. I advise that you make the most of it.” Mine snapped his fingers. The Dojima men jumped on to the table and charged at them.“I’ll take them,” Kiryu suddenly said, nearly shocking Nishiki into looking away to face him. “You take Mine.”“I feel like it should be the other way around,” Nishiki muttered, but he did as told.“If you want to die, step up!” Kiryu called out. Some things never change. He grabbed the nearest chair and threw it at the storming men. It knocked a few off the table. Nishiki took it as his opening. He hopped on the table and ran through the small clearing in the bodies to his target: Mine Yoshitaka.Mine was unmoving. He looked up at Nishiki as if he was already bored, as if he already won before they even started. That could only mean one thing in Nishiki’s mind: he had a gun. That was the only reason why he would be so shit-eatingly confident.Well, good thing Nishiki had a gun too.It was like he could see in fast motion. As in, nothing slowed down now. He felt as if he was moving, seeing, breathing in speed itself. He could practically sense that Mine was a second too late. He could see when the other reached a gloved hand into his pocket – just a second too late. That’s all it took.Nishiki pulled his own gun out first and shot at Mine’s hand. Mine snarled as he was forced to drop his gun and grasp at his shot-at hand. Nishiki didn’t give him a chance to fully assess the damage, either. He immediately struck his chin with his knee and set him flying back against the wall, knocking into an ugly-ass portrait of Dojima that Nishiki only noticed just now. Thank God it shattered into pieces upon impact.Mine was quick on the recovery, though. He got up to his feet as if he wasn’t dazed at all. It must’ve been the crazy that was driving him through the probable concussion that Nishiki surely gave him.Nishiki cocked his gun. “Ready to give up yet?”Mine’s lips twisted as he clutched tightly at his hand. If Nishiki had to guess, he didn’t think that he fully shot the man, just badly grazed him. Not enough to deter him from doing something stupid – but it seemed like even a bullet to the brain wasn’t going to stop this guy. Nishiki could tell by the dark determination in his eyes.Those same eyes suddenly flickered away to the far side of the room. Nishiki kept his gun unwavering as he quickly traced Mine’s eyesight: to his own gun that had been flung across the room, underneath an overthrown chair and near an unmoving Dojima man.“What?” Nishiki squatted down, pressed the muzzle of the gun against Mine’s forehead, trying to pin him in place. “You’re not even gonna look at me after everything we’ve been through?”Mine scoffed as if there wasn’t a gun pointed at his head. “You have no right to speak to me. Not after what you’ve done to Kiryu-san,” he growled out. Yeah, Nishiki knew crazy when he saw it. It takes one to know one. He hoped it didn’t show on his face.The gun was starting to weigh heavy in his hand. “What did I do to Kiryu now?” Kiryu, who by the sound of it, was pounding his way through his former men with ease.“You’ve weakened him. If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be leaving us behind!” Mine reached out and gripped the barrel of the gun. But he didn’t move it away. He pushed it even closer to his own forehead. It was such an insane move that Nishiki damn near stumbled off of the table in surprise. “People like you make me sick,” he hissed out.Nishiki’s finger trembled on the trigger. “And what kind of person am I?” he lowly asked.“An enabler, a distraction, a liability—the list goes on.”Nishiki choked out a dry laugh. “Now and days, those are compliments for me.” He could feel the tension in between them suddenly spike. Why? He jostled the gun against Mine’s forehead, that he was still willingly pressing against. “So… Do you want to kill me or yourself? I’m kinda getting mixed signals here.”Something about that seemed to piss Mine off even further. But his face didn’t entangle itself into a scowl anymore. In fact, while his face became stoic, the energy around him became even darker. Why? Nishiki couldn’t figure it out.Mine’s good arm moved. Nishiki’s predictions went as follows:Option A: Mine was going to grab the gun (most likely),Option B: Mine was going to attempt to push Nishiki off of the table and grab for his gun in a tussle (highly likely),Option C: Mine was going to use his arm as a distraction in order to side sweep at Nishiki and kick him off the table (seemingly unlikely, but became likely once you adjusted for probable craziness),Option D: Mine was going to give up and save a lot of time and energy for the both of them (highly, highly unlikely; but it would be great!),Option E: None of the above (expect the unexpected).Nishiki saw it coming but it didn’t make it any less shocking. Mine went with option E. His eyes, pitch black, flickered up to Nishiki’s in a fraction of a second as he raised his hand and squeezed it around Nishiki’s hand on the gun, forcing him to pull the trigger.Nishiki could hear himself gasp as he turned the gun away at the last second, and the bullet barely missed Mine’s forehead and hit the wall behind him. He definitely grazed the guy’s ear, though. Nishiki could feel a tremor course through his hand as his wide eyes flickered between the bloodied shell of Mine’s ear and the smoking hole in the wall where Dojima’s portrait was once hanging.He managed to mutter out, “You’re fucking insane,” under his breath as Mine still squeezed his hand. His face was completely blank, devoid of any hint of emotion, as he squeezed and squeezed and squeezed.Nishiki’s brain was admittedly a millisecond behind. He thought at first that Mine was trying to make him drop the gun, but no. Because he wasn’t letting go. He was just squeezing, squeezing, squeezing his hand like Nishiki’s wrist was his neck and he could wring it. Like he could crush his hand into a million pulverized pieces.Which he would if Nishiki didn’t stop standing there like a dumbass and do something.He kicked at Mine’s knees, which was obviously an anticipated move since Mine easily dodged aside, still holding on and squeezing his hand. No matter. The only true threat in the room was Mine’s eyes: filled with malice. Is this how Kiryu felt when they fought after Kiryu quit? Like he was fighting an unknown entity born from nowhere? Because there was no solid ground for Mine’s assault – but it was filled with so much anger that his passion could not be denied, regardless.Nishiki jabbed at Mine’s stomach with his free hand. The hit landed but Nishiki’s fists weren’t as powerful as they used to be. If it was ten years ago, he would’ve sent the guy flying across the room like it was nothing. Now, his impact hardly made Mine wince. Disappointing and frustrating, but it confirmed one thing to Nishiki: their strengths matched one another. The vice versa was true, Mine was still working at crushing his hand instead of easily succeeding.That brought forth a new dilemma. How do you take down someone who matched you in strength? Sometimes it was easier to fight someone who outmatched you. The weaker could eat shit. The stronger could crumble if you found their Achilles heel. But if it was someone who could go hand for hand, hit for hit with you, what do you do?You play dirty.Nishiki pulled the trigger again. The gun, pointing up, shot off toward the ceiling. But it didn’t perturb Mine at all. In fact, his eyebrows only furrowed even more. “You are not going to shoot me,” he said with the same cool confidence. “Or else you would have done it already.”Nishiki scoffed like his bluff wasn’t called. That was fine. He was—“Hm. Are you suppressing the urge to kill me? It seems as though Kiryu-san is holding you back, too.”Nishiki’s vision turned white.That moment’s hesitation was all it took for Mine to force his fingers to loosen and to drop the gun. But Nishiki would be damned if Mine got to the gun before him. He just needed to readjust his plan.He took Mine’s eyes flicking down to the fallen gun, a distraction, as his chance. Nishiki used his left hand to dig his fingers into the bullet wound on Mine’s right hand. He used his right hand to dig his fingers into the bleeding wound in Mine’s left ear.He got the reaction he wanted. Mine immediately hissed in pain and doubled over. This was it. Nishiki swung a haymaker full force at his head and managed to connect with his jawline. Back in the day, he would’ve broken the guy’s jaw and knocked out some teeth for good measure. But the Nishiki of now had to settle for the sight of blood staining in between Mine’s teeth as he was knocked down.He kicked the man while he was down for good measure. Hopefully he’d break a rib. It didn’t look like Mine was getting up any time soon.Nishiki picked up his fallen gun but stayed crouched down, looking over Mine. The guy was still conscious but his eyes were dazed, looking downward, most likely at nothing. He had fallen near the shards of glass left by Dojima’s fallen portrait.“I don’t understand it,” Nishiki found himself saying, “but I get why you’re so hung up on him. Kiryu’s hard to quit. He does that to people. Makes you never want to let go.”Mine said nothing. Nishiki wasn’t sure if the blank look in Mine’s eyes now was worse than the burning hatred from before. He struck the handle of the gun against Mine’s head, and he properly lost consciousness.Nishiki stood and looked back. Kiryu, the one-man army, managed to take down the Dojima men on his own. But the moment he knocked down the last man standing, the door swung open – and more men poured in.The men coming in were fighting amongst themselves, though. Nishiki could see the Majima men they had attempted to barricade away along with a group of men that took him a second to recognize, he had to analyze their family pins: more Dojima Family.Kiryu only spared him a millisecond-long glance, but Nishiki knew exactly what he was going to say: “Go. I’ll hold them back.”No, Nishiki’s mind immediately said. Don’t make me go alone. Because facing a million men was always less terrifying than taking on a single giant.But Nishiki swallowed down the bile threatening to travel up his throat and ran across the room to where Mine’s gun had fallen, picked it up, and went to the exit before the approaching men could catch him. “Come back in one piece!” he shouted out before the door slammed shut behind him. He swore he saw Kiryu shake his head as he raced for the stairs.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
18:30
Nishiki didn’t know what he was expecting when he pushed the doors leading up to the roof open. Maybe for a defensive circle of Majima men. Maybe to immediately get slashed at, maybe even shot at. He was expecting something. So, the stillness and quietness, the façade of nothingness, that greeted him crept under his skin and stole the air from his lungs, replacing it with cold wind and dark skies.He kept a hand on his gun as he slowly moved forward. He had to be about two hundred meters up if he was guessing. What if Majima or someone else came from behind him and pushed him off? It’d all be over in seconds.The roof seemed to be split into different sections with low-hanging fences to dissect its metal pathways. The pathway that the roof immediately opened to was empty. Nishiki continued to hold his breath as he walked toward the right, where there were taller fences housing antennas and mechanical equipment. The floor lifted slightly on to a platform – and there he was.Majima wasn’t in his usual getup, either. Call it great minds think alike, or that fools of a feather never differ, but he had changed into a black suit too. And with the unmoving old man in a hospital bed behind him, it certainly felt like they were prepared for a funeral.A flash of gunmetal shined through the silver of the roof’s metalwork layout. Majima was holding up a gun, pointed right at Nishiki. Well, that was certainly new. Nishiki couldn’t recall Majima ever even picking up a gun before. For a second, his mind misperceived the weapon as the silver blade of a knife, a more familiar sight.Nishiki held up his hands but kept a strong hold on his own gun. “It’s just me,” he tried to say as nonchalantly as possible. But since Majima had an observant eye, he probably noticed the still-lingering tremor in his hands.Majima scoffed as he lowered the gun. “Two times’s coincidence. Three times’s a pattern,” he muttered. His voice was low, gravelly. Nishiki had never heard it like that before. He lowered his hands.The dying light of Majima’s cigarette cut through the grayscale. Even from the slight distance between them, Nishiki could see that the cigarette lit up the hollowness of Majima’s face, the deep, dark bags beneath his bloodshot eye. Majima was always someone with a frankly stark, gauntly look, but now he looked… withered, in a way that Nishiki had somehow failed to notice during their chance meeting in the homeless camp. Like he was holding up the weathered skin of Majima Goro with nothing but broken bones and contempt. Was this the infamous demon that lied beneath? Has it finally crawled its way to the surface to stake its dying claim?“Think I’ve seen ya more than I’ve seen Kiryu-chan lately,” Majima went on, still using the same unsettling lifeless tone. “Is he with ya now? What’re ya, the appetizer before the main course?”“Something like that,” Nishiki murmured. He watched as Majima breathed out around his cigarette, as smoke briefly clouded his face – like onibi, like ghostly demon fire. “Disappointed I’m not Kiryu?” he couldn’t help but ask. Majima gave a half-shrug. If he wasn’t being swallowed by a suit jacket, Nishiki wondered if he would’ve seen his bones move beneath his shoulders with the gesture. “I mean, I get it. I would be, too.”“Didn’t say I was.” Majima spat out his cigarette. A gust of wind blew in between them and it felt colder than ever. “How’d ya get up here, anyways? That limp dick’s got this shit locked down like it’s Okinoshima.”Nishiki blinked. “Are you talking about… Mine?”“Yeah. Who the hell else?” Majima snorted. There was no humor in the sound. It was weird. Like they were walking through the semblance of a conversation since the usual vigor was completely gone. It was laughable how they could be considered two of the most charismatic people in the clan once upon a time. Now Nishiki was hollowed out, and Majima was a black void. “The guy’s a piece of fuckin’ work, lemme tell ya. Never let me drop in on Kiryu-chan during visitin’ hours. Always gatekeepin’ him like he owns him or something. Pfft.” Real estate companies didn’t have “visiting hours,” right? “Ain’t even fun to get through him. Got a stick so far up his ass, ya can see it in his throat. He’s like a glass of cold water to the dick. Ya know’ll what I mean if ya fought him.”“Yeah, I fought him,” Nishiki simply answered. He chose not to entertain this thread of conversation. There was a more pressing matter at hand. “So…” He gestured his free hand behind Majima, where the Ueno Seiwa chairman lied. It looked like he had been directly uprooted from a hospital. The bed he was in had detached wires dangling from it like it had been ripped from a wall. Maybe Nishiki should’ve asked what Ueno Yoshiharu’s condition was, because it didn’t look good. The man had been completely unresponsive the entire time. Was he even breathing? Could he breathe without assistance? “He’s… not dead, is he?”Majima gave another half-shrug, not looking back. “Naw, he’s good. Can’t believe he’s still kickin’ after all these years, the ol’ bastard. Ain’t that something?” He smiled. And honestly, Nishiki would’ve preferred one of Majima’s trademark manic grins, because all Majima gave was the ghost of a smile now, the look of an exhausted man. Nishiki knew the feeling all too well. It just sent another shiver down his spine. “Thought he woulda dropped dead by now, but he’s still hangin’ on by a thread.” Aren’t they all?“Well…” Nishiki took a cautious half-step closer, but Majima didn’t react. In fact, has he even blinked yet this entire time? “I would recommend not pushing him off the roof, or… whatever the hell you’re about to do to him.”That seemed like something Majima would at least mockingly laugh at, but he didn’t. “Naw. Not gonna do that.” Finally, he blinked. “Wait, what? Ya think I’m gonna kill the geezer?”“I don’t know. You tell me.” Nishiki offhandedly gestured around them, at the fact that they were two hundred meters in the sky. “You kidnapped him and brought him up alone to a roof with a gun. What, were you planning on throwing him a get-well-soon party or something?”Majima made a pssh sound. “Perish the thought. More like he’s a means to an end, if ya know what I mean.”Kazama’s voice rang in Nishiki’s head: “This is an obvious attempt to draw out the Ueno Seiwa Clan, especially Katsuragi. This is his final act of revenge for Saejima.”Still, Nishiki said, “Do I?”“I think ya do.” Majima took a sudden step back, nearly leaning against the foot of the hospital bed. The gesture put Nishiki on edge. What the hell was about to happen? “I don’t got beef with the old man, don’t worry about him. I’m not gonna do him in. Never gave a shit about him, actually.” Majima lit up another cigarette. The flame of his lighter launched even harsher shadows across his face. “The old guy’s just an invitation for some old friends to come over, is all.”Friends? Like, plural? Katsuragi and who else? Weren’t Ueno and Katsuragi the only survivors of the assassination hit? Majima couldn’t be expecting Shibata, he’s dead. Unless… Did Majima not know that Shibata was dead?But before Nishiki could even fix his lips to ask, Majima said, “Look alive.” Despite himself, Nishiki near-automatically straightened out and turned around. He felt like his heart was going to spill out of his throat.The elevator doors next to the staircase dinged. Two men in gray suits and black overcoats walked out. It took a second for Nishiki to recognize Katsuragi Isao, he could never forget the man’s large forehead and unforgiving widow’s peak, but he didn’t recognize the other man. He looked to be around the same age as Katsuragi. If the other “friend” that Majima was referring to wasn’t Shibata, then was it this guy?The two men took their time to walk over to them. Nishiki took a quick peek out of his peripheral at Majima. It looked like Majima was grinding his jaw. His cigarette hung limply from his lips.Katsuragi ultimately didn’t look too concerned about his kidnapped, motionless chairman. In fact, he seemed much more focused on immediately pulling a gun out on them. His companion, too.Nishiki reflexively pointed his own gun back at them, but Majima’s gun remained unmoving at his side.They stood in a locked standoff for a good minute, no one even daring to blink or breathe through the thickening tension, until Katsuragi finally broke the ice: “Majima-san and…” He smiled, and it had to be the slimiest look that Nishiki had ever seen in his life – and that was really saying something, since he met slimy people on a daily basis. “Nishikiyama-san, was it? I wasn’t aware that you two ran in the same circles. What a surprise.”Majima didn’t respond. Nishiki chose not to, either.Katsuragi didn’t seem phased by the joint silence. “As much as I would like to treat you like the overgrown, feral dog that you are and finally put you down, I think I’d only be putting you out of your misery—and I can’t offer such mercy to you. It’s better for me if you’re alive, actually.”All Majima said was, “Oh?” He sounded as disinterested as a person could be.“Of course. A perfect scapegoat is hard to come by.” Katsuragi gestured his gun slightly toward Nishiki, and Nishiki had to choke down the anger that quickly traveled up his throat. “It’s better not to sacrifice them before they’ve fulfilled their use. It’s like a game of chess. Best to hold on to your pieces as long as you can. Right, Sugiuchi-san?”The man beside Katsuragi, apparently Sugiuchi, only grunted in response. His eyes had never moved away from Majima the entire time.“Okay, I’ll bite.” Majima took a long inhale around his cigarette. “What exactly are ya plannin’ on me to ‘take the blame for’ now? Don’t let me be the last to know.”Katsuragi laughed under his breath, but it was still a dark, ugly, self-satisfied sound. “You know what? I’ll tell you since you can’t do anything about it.” He nodded toward Nishiki. “Put it down. We’re capable of having a civil conversation, aren’t we?” He wasn’t moving to put his own gun down, though.“Well, when one guy pulls his dick out, the rest tend to follow. Ya know how it is,” Majima said with a dry laugh. Nishiki found himself glancing at Majima, who immediately shrugged without looking back. “Hurry it up, before yer chairman freezes to death or I get bored—whatever comes first.” He let out an exaggerated yawn. “Ya always yapped off at the mouth with yer never-ending stories—”“Shut the fuck up,” Sugiuchi hissed. Majima spat out his cigarette toward him, nearly hitting his shoes – which looked expensive, Nishiki might add. Who the hell was this guy?Katsuragi held up his hand. “I said let’s have a civil conversation. That would require all parties to act civil while having said conversation.” Sugiuchi muttered to himself as he took a small step back, still holding up his gun. Majima’s expression hadn’t changed the whole time. Nishiki couldn’t get a good read on him. Was he ready to explode? Did he want to shoot them this entire time, but was holding himself back? Did he reach the point where he was too numb to care anymore? “Let’s see. On Tuesday morning, you and your family blew up the Shibata Family office—”“Yeah, I remember. I was there,” Majima cut in. “Skip to the good part.”Nishiki could tell Katsuragi was starting to get pissed but his uncalled-for pride was obviously winning over. “Afterwards, Shibata and his men came crying to me, begging for protection. He was sure that the office explosion was just a warning sign for what was to come, that you would be exacting your revenge sooner or later. He thought that we should ‘team up’ against you, since I was obviously the other person you have a vendetta against.” An amused look crossed over Katsuragi’s face as he shook his head. “I laughed in his face. ‘Team up’? Why would I do such a thing with him?”Because you’ve done it before, was on the tip of Nishiki’s tongue, but he held it in. Majima was as still as the night.“Still, I decided to see where things would go. I offered to meet Shibata and his men on Wednesday night with Sugiuchi-san. Shibata kept going on and on about teaming up and taking you down. It was pathetic. I’ve always known for him to be a pathetic man, but how far can a person get by on pity, really?” Good question. Katsuragi suddenly flickered his eyes between Nishiki and Majima, obviously contemplating something, before he went on, “It was in that moment when I decided that Shibata had long outlived his purpose for me. At least he would be more useful to me dead than living. So, Sugiuchi-san and I killed him and his men and dumped their bodies in the Arakawa for old time’s sake.”Nishiki found himself glancing at Sugiuchi, whose frown somehow managed to deepen. Why?“Yer point? What do ya get outta that exactly?” Majima asked, voice still low.“It’s simple: I’m untouchable.” Katsuragi’s lips cracked into another smile, but there was no warmth behind the expression. He always reminded Nishiki of a snake – which was beyond accurate, since he was one. “When Shibata was talking to me, all of the pieces clicked in my mind. We kill Shibata and his men, incite a war between our clans, and you take the blame for it. You’re guilty from all sides—to the Ueno Seiwa, to the Tojo, to the police, to everyone. There’s nowhere for you to hide.”“You have the motive and no alibi,” Sugiuchi suddenly spoke up. His voice was matter-of-fact, but there was something akin to deep anger brewing behind his eyes that Nishiki couldn’t let go of, because he couldn’t understand why. “You faked leaving the district on Wednesday morning before you went into hiding. You don’t have an alibi for the Wednesday night of the murders. This shit’s too deep to dig yourself out of.”“What makes y’all think I’m just gonna lay down and take it this time around, huh?” Majima crossed his arms, which made Katsuragi flinch back slightly, Nishiki noticed it. “What makes you think I’m not ready to go back to Hell and that I won’t drag you down there with me this time?” Nishiki didn’t know why, but a chill went down his spine. There was suddenly something different about Majima’s voice but he couldn’t quite place it. There was this haunting tone of perfect clarity.Katsuragi opened his mouth, surely to say something self-servile, but he was cut off by a loud banging sound. His head immediately turned toward the roof’s entrance, where the doors to the staircase had flung open, and there stood Kiryu.But, as always, a man’s greatest weakness was a moment of hesitation. Even if it was only a split second, that’s all it took.The reasons why it was absolute hell to fight against Majima Goro, especially when he was taking a fight seriously, were that he was incredibly strong and incredibly fast – and incredibly out of his mind. Nishiki thought the man had completely disappeared for a good second before he realized no, Majima was still on the same plane of existence as them. Just on the ground.And what was he doing on the ground? He was stabbing Katsuragi with his tanto.Nishiki couldn’t even tell where at first. It was a rapid-fire session of blade meeting flesh, of blood spraying through the dark night. Katsuragi’s legs – his feet, shins, knees, thighs – were absolutely fucked.Katsuragi fell over with more of a surprised yell than one of pain, likely because it all happened so fast. But he never lost grip on his gun. “Majima—!” he gasped out. “Sugiuchi, you bastard—! You let this happen!”“What—?!” Sugiuchi’s eyes widened.Five shots rang out.(In the actual moment, Nishiki wouldn’t be able to tell you what exactly happened. He only could somewhat reconstruct the pieces when Kiryu had to remind him what happened – which he would still find unbelievable each and every time. Because he should’ve been dead, honestly. If the five bullets that fired that night hit him and him only, it would’ve made more sense than what actually happened.What happened was this:Katsuragi fired the first two shots, aiming toward Majima, point-blank. But Majima, being faster than the speed of light, dodged out the way and went completely unscathed.Sugiuchi fired the third shot. If you asked Nishiki, he thought he was aiming for Majima too. But if you asked Kiryu, he thought he was aiming for Nishiki, but it wasn’t a carefully aimed shot – something reflexive. Like he didn’t want to shoot Nishiki, but felt obligated to. ((Whatever the hell that meant.))Katsuragi fired the fourth shot. Kiryu later told Nishiki he said something to the effect of, “You’re just like Shibata: more deadweight,” before he shot Sugiuchi, catching him in the stomach. He immediately collapsed.Nishiki fired the final shot. Maybe because he saw Sugiuchi go down and just automatically pulled the trigger. Maybe because he thought he was next. He couldn’t tell you why, really. He shot at Katsuragi because he shot first. Nishiki got him in the chest. Katsuragi’s body was already on the ground, but his head slammed down too.Majima never shot.But hindsight is 20/20, as they say. In the actual moment it felt like—)
What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!
Nishiki’s hand roamed over his own body. Did he get shot? Was he shot? He didn’t feel any gaping holes in his body, so no. Maybe not. Not unless the shock and adrenaline were holding back the pain.“Nishiki! Majima-san!”The sound of Kiryu’s voice ripping through the night made Nishiki snap out of it. He forced his mind to crawl out the haze. Now wasn’t the time to lose a second of focus. Not when everyone had a fucking gun on them.He soaked in the scene: Kiryu was running toward them – no, had reached them now, Majima was crouched on the ground near Katsuragi, Katsuragi was down, Sugiuchi was down, Ueno was still unmoving. Nishiki didn’t get shot. He was fine.“Kiryu,” Nishiki whispered back, surely too quiet to hear. Mind on autopilot, he reached for Mine’s gun that he had kept in his pocket and offered it to Kiryu, even though he knew Kiryu would decline it.“Are you okay?” Kiryu asked, looking over him.“Yeah.” Nishiki tried to shake off the last of the brain fog. “You?” Kiryu nodded.“I don’t get it,” Majima suddenly said, now standing over Katsuragi’s body. They both turned to him. “There’s this one thing I could never wrap my head around when it came to him…”“Majima-san,” Kiryu called out, but Majima didn’t react. Nishiki offhandedly realized that it wasn’t over. There was always a certain feeling of finality that came after a big fight or confrontation, but they hadn’t arrived to that point yet.“Just never understood why…” Majima muttered.Of course, it started to rain.“Why?” Kiryu picked up. “He did this because he was afraid of you. But you weren’t going to do anything to him, were you?” He always sounded like he had the answers, did he? Even when he didn’t.“Naw. That’s not it.” Majima’s gun, which Nishiki would’ve assumed he had completely forgotten about at this point, pointed down – right at Katsuragi’s head. “I never understood how he could take a bullet to the chest and just brush it off like it’s nothing—twice. Gotta be some type of miracle, huh?”“Majima-san…?” Kiryu took a step toward him, but Majima looked at them then, and Kiryu froze. Majima’s eye – wet, exhausted, inky, red-rimmed, grieving – pinned him in place.“Just never made sense to me, Kiryu-chan. Why’s he still breathin’, huh?” Majima crouched down again and used his tanto to slash Katsuragi’s shirt open. Nishiki expected blood to spill out, but no. There was only a bulletproof vest, with the bullet that Nishiki shot deeply wedged over where Katsuragi’s heart would be. “This shit’s never added up,” Majima said with a cold laugh. He struck the butt of his tanto across Katsuragi’s face. “Stop playin’ dead. Ya could fool the police and the clans with this bullshit, but not me.”One of Katsuragi’s eyes briefly fluttered open then closed. Even with a bulletproof vest on, getting shot still hurt like shit. He could’ve been in shock or whatever, or just really committing to the bit. Either way, he wasn’t about to get up and talk to Majima any time soon.Majima pressed the muzzle of his gun against Katsuragi’s forehead. “Why didn’t ya get a bullet in the head like the rest of ‘em, huh? I could fix that for ya, y’know.”The time is now. All of Nishiki’s senses ignited – like a nightbird crying out into the dark, like a mourning dove returning home for the spring, like Saejima was whispering in his ear. The time is now.“Majima!” Nishiki called out, overwhelmed by the call in his head. It might have been the loudest his voice has been since he got out of jail, since he lost it over the past ten years.Both Majima and Kiryu’s heads snapped to Nishiki. Majima didn’t move the gun.“Don’t do it,” Nishiki said.Majima paused for a long second before he laughed. It was a harsh, ugly sound, the kind that Nishiki knew he did to scare, to ward off people away from him like a protective seal. “That’s all ya got? ‘Don’t do it’? Ya gotta do better than that if ya wanna convince me to—”“Our kyodai wouldn’t want you to do this.”Majima stopped laughing.The rain was already beginning to heavy and it threatened to blur Nishiki’s vision, but he forced himself to be resolute.“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Majima growled out, his voice changing again.“I said,” Nishiki made sure his voice was heard, “our kyodai wouldn’t want you to do this.”Majima blinked the rain from his eye. He glanced at Kiryu, who was still looking at Nishiki, and shook his head – but the anger wouldn’t leave him. “I’m just gonna chalk it up to a slip of the tongue. I know me and Kiryu-chan are buddy-buddy-besties and all, but he ain’t my kyodai.”“I know.” Nishiki took a step closer. If Majima was anyone else, Nishiki would’ve expected the gun to be pointed at him instead, but Majima just kept his brewing eye on him and the gun against Katsuragi’s forehead. “You know who I’m talking about.”“I’m afraid I don’t. Wanna refresh my memory?” Majima shifted from foot to foot. Even though he was looking up at Nishiki, it still felt like Nishiki was being looked down upon.“Saejima Taiga.” Majima didn’t react, but Nishiki could tell he was bracing himself. “I met him in jail.”“Oh yeah?” Majima blinked again, slower this time. “So what? What’s that gotta do with me?”“Everything.” Nishiki took another small step closer. “I met him in ‘96, when I got moved from Tokyo Prison to Tokyo Penitentiary. I…” The time is now. Let it out. “I fought for my life every day in prison. The first ‘friend’ I thought I made was my cellmate in Tokyo Prison. Turned out he was an assassin from the Nikkyo Consortium and he tried to kill me in my sleep. I killed him and got transferred to Tokyo Pen after that. I got a letter that my sister died that June in ‘96. I decided…” Nishiki could feel Kiryu’s eyes boring into him. “I decided to kill myself that day. I went out to the shed, found some rope, and I was going to hang myself in my cell that night.” Nishiki forced his eyes to stay on Majima, who was stock still. He couldn’t bear to imagine what Kiryu looked like right now. “But Saejima was out there that night. We never spoke to each other before, but he stopped me.”A beat passed. Only the rain filled the silence between them. Nishiki absently wondered how Ueno was doing. If he could possibly drown by being left laying helpless in the rain like this.“I didn’t get it,” Nishiki continued. “We didn’t know each other. I didn’t mean anything to him. Why’d he go out of his way to save me? I thought I could never trust anyone again, but a year later he somehow became my friend. And he called himself my kyodai. I thought—I thought I would never have a kyodai again.” Nishiki let out a small laugh. Thank God it was raining, so they wouldn’t be able to see the tears falling down his face. “He asked me about you.”Majima slowly looked down.“He asked me if you were still in the Tojo and what you were like. I told him you became Shimano’s captain and you got a huge family now. And… And he just cried. He wouldn’t stop crying.” Nishiki tried in vain to blink back his own tears. “But you know what always stuck with me? I said you had one eye and he was surprised by that. I thought, why didn’t he know that already? He was in jail for over ten years at that point, I thought he would’ve known about what happened to you by then—but he didn’t. I realized I was the first person he ever talked to about you. I… I guess I was the only person he ever trusted to ask about you to.”Majima still looked down. They were all completely soaked in rainwater. While it looked like Nishiki and Majima were drowning in their clothes, like boys who were playing dress up in their father’s closet, Kiryu’s figure remained steadfast.“…What was he like?”Nishiki almost missed Majima’s words. His voice sounded different again, smaller than he ever heard it. “The same,” he easily answered.Majima snorted. “How would you know that? You didn’t know him from the get-go.”“Because guys like him don’t change.”Majima hung his head down. “What… What was he doing out that night?”“The night he saved me?” Nishiki sniffed as he laughed again. He was sure the sound gave away that he was crying, if his voice hadn’t already. “He was feeding soybeans to a fucking cat.”Majima shook his head. He didn’t say anything.“So, I know.” Nishiki took one final step closer. He was nearly toe to toe with Majima. “I know the kind of guy he was to you, because he was the same to me. I know he wouldn’t want you to do this. Don’t do it.” Nishiki crouched down. He could see Katsuragi slightly moving, but he still looked out of it. “Just think about it. Is this something that Saejima would want you to do?” He sucked in a quick breath and braced himself for impact. “Is… Is this something that Saejima Yasuko or Makimura Makoto would want you to do?”He was expecting the punch. He just wasn’t expecting to damn near fly across the roof after Majima hit him. But so be it. Nishiki’s job was done. At least he didn’t knock into anything or fall off the ledge, but his head unfortunately hit the ground a little too hard for his liking.“Majima-no-niisan!” Kiryu’s voice was definite. “If you want to fight anyone, fight me. Take it out on me.”“Oh yeah?” Nishiki heard Majima say. He tried to clear the rainwater and stars from his eyes as he dazedly looked for them. They were somewhere behind him. “Ya think the big boys are gonna let it slide if I started a war and kicked their golden boy’s ass?”“Yes, because I’m a civilian.”Majima’s shocked laugh ripped through the night. “Just droppin’ bomb after bomb on me today, huh? What’s next, is Dojima’s ghost gonna join the fight, too? Ya got Shimano hidin’ behind a roof tile or something?”Nishiki tried to get to his feet, but he slipped. Shit. Majima really knocked the wind out of him.“No. It’s just us.” They were blurred figures, but Nishiki knew Kiryu’s fighting stance when he saw it. “I’m leaving the Tojo Clan and I’ll carry all of the sins of the past with me, ending with you.”Majima cackled again, sounding more like himself. “Ooh, nice one! Feels like I’m in a movie! That’s why I love ya, Kiryu-chan!“ He tossed the gun aside and started hopping from foot to foot, getting into his off-kilter stance. “Now beat some fuckin’ sense into me!”Maybe Kiryu said, “I don’t think anyone can do that,” before Majima swung first and Nishiki briefly blacked out.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Millennium Tower
18:45
When Nishiki came to, his vision was grayed and his memory was slow to come to him. He could feel that his hair and clothes were soaking wet, and he thought did he die? Did he not have the guts to face Kiryu and decided to drown himself in the onsen after all? Then he thought no. He was outside of the former Dojima Family office because the Dojimas just tried to kill him, and he was standing in the rain, trying to figure out what the call of the nightbird meant and if it was worth seeing Kazama after all.Then he thought no, that wasn’t it either. He had been drinking all day because he felt like a useless piece of shit, but he managed to run into Kiryu while it rained, and maybe he was in love with him even though he shouldn’t be, because later tonight he was going to kill Dojima and tear them apart. Then he thought, no. That also wasn’t right, because he's walking Yuko home from school and it’s raining because the teru teru bōzu charms that they spent all yesterday afternoon making worked and that was the first time Yuko smiled so brightly since they came to the orphanage – when the spring rains finally fell.“N—Nishikiyama?”No. None of those were right, because Nishiki didn’t recognize the voice calling out to him.“Nishikiyama…?”He forced himself to look up. There was a man laying in front of him, laying in a pool of water and blood, and he was reaching his hand out for something. For Nishiki?Nishiki blinked. Reality suddenly poured in. The man in front of him was Sugiuchi, the man that Katsuragi had arrived with and then shot in the stomach. He wasn’t reaching out for Nishiki, he was reaching out for his gun that was barely out of reach of his fingertips.“My gun,” he groaned out. “Give me… my gun.”“Why?” Nishiki choked out. He felt like he was about to vomit.“Give me my gun,” Sugiuchi repeated. Nishiki didn’t move. He was on the roof of the Millennium Tower, because he was allowed to be the hero this time and he convinced Majima not to kill Katsuragi before he fought Kiryu, he remembered now. Sugiuchi would probably just shoot Majima or Kiryu or himself. “My… gun…” Sugiuchi stretched his hand out, letting out a hiss of pain, and managed to reach his gun on his own.Nishiki remembered the deep anger in Sugiuchi’s eyes when Katsuragi had given his little masturbatory speech about being “untouchable.” Nishiki’s scattered mind tried to make sense of the pieces. Sugiuchi had looked at Katsuragi with anger, not Majima or Nishiki. At least, that’s what his mind was telling him when Sugiuchi forced himself to pick up his gun and pointed it at Katsuragi, who – oh. Nishiki’s vision was clearing. Katsuragi was pointing a gun at them.It was a loud, startling sound. The gun firing, the impact of the bullet hitting Katsuragi between the eyes, his blood spraying, his body falling near them – because he had been on his knees, ready to shoot them or maybe just Sugiuchi or maybe even Majima. Where was Majima, anyway? Where was Kiryu?Nishiki looked around. It felt like he was moving in slow motion. He heard “Nishiki!” and all was well. Kiryu’s voice. His everything. In his mind, he said, I’m okay. If you’re here, I’m okay, though he knew no words came out.Kiryu came into focus. Nishiki felt strong arms wrap around him and he was being pulled up, into Kiryu’s lap. Nishiki heard himself let out a delirious laugh. “We’re skipping from first base to third base already?”Kiryu let out a sigh, but his grip didn’t loosen. “You’re okay?”“Yeah. No. I don’t know.” Nishiki lightly pushed Kiryu’s arms away and tried to sit up on his own. “I think I have another concussion.”“I think I have a black eye,” Kiryu said matter-of-factly.“We’re getting too old for this shit.” Nishiki looked around. His vision expanded a lot more. Katsuragi, with a bullet lodged in his skull, was across from them. Sugiuchi, with a bullet lodged in his stomach, was next to them. Majima was laid out nearly on the other side of the roof, hopefully bullet free. Ueno was still in the hospital bed. “Did I miss the fight?”“I guess so.” Kiryu kept a hand on his arm as he looked between Katsuragi and Sugiuchi, deeply frowning. “What happened?”“I’m… I’m tired of hiding…”They both looked at Sugiuchi, who didn’t try to reach for his dropped gun again.“Hiding… from what?” Kiryu cautiously asked.Sugiuchi coughed. Blood coated his teeth. “My—My partner back in the day, Tanimura Taigi… he was… he was the lead of the Ueno Seiwa hit case… He figured it out. He… He always figured everything out, that bastard.” Sugiuchi gave a dry laugh, only making more blood fall from his lips. “He figured out… Katsuragi and Shibata… and me. He—” He coughed again.“Who… are you?” Nishiki finally asked.“I’m—I’m Katsuragi’s kyodai,” Sugiuchi breathed out.Nishiki caught the way Kiryu’s eyes briefly widened. “What?” he asked.“He’s supposed to be a homicide detective,” Kiryu muttered. “He questioned me about the Shibata murders a few days ago.”“I-I am,” Sugiuchi said. “I’m both. I’m in the police… and I’m in the Ueno Seiwa.”Kiryu shook his head. “What are you tired of hiding from?” he asked again.“Everything. Fuck, everything.” Sugiuchi groaned in pain again. “I killed him… Tanimura, my partner. He knew I covered the hit up… H-He was supposed to meet with… with that Saejima girl, and I killed him before he could…”Nishiki thought back to what Yasuko said, about the detective she was supposed to meet about Saejima back in the day: “H-He was shot. They—His body. They found it in the Arakawa River one day.” Shit, these guys really liked the Arakawa, huh?“And now—fucking…” Sugiuchi let out another laugh which only made him cough again. “Now Tanimura’s son works under me. Can… Can you believe that shit? It’s—It’s been killing me slowly by the day.” He let out a long breath. “And I’ve… I’ve just been underneath the deputy commissioner’s thumb. Because he—he figured out the setup, too. I’ve been torn by all sides. The clan, Katsuragi, the deputy commissioner…” He closed his eyes. “I’m—I’m done,” he breathed out. “I’m done living this… this double life I got no control over. That,” his eyes opened again, looking where Katsuragi’s dead body lied, “is the first decision of my own that I’ve made in decades.” His eyes closed again.He didn’t speak again. Kiryu reached out and touched Sugiuchi’s wrist, then neck. “He still has a pulse,” he murmured.“Good for him.”Kiryu and Nishiki turned around. Majima was standing over them. Well, barely standing over them. He was hunched over, clutching at his stomach. His hair was a mess, dripping water, and his nose was bleeding, maybe even broken. And damn. Nishiki may have seen Kiryu and Majima fight a million times, but he was kind of looking forward to this one – and it was in the rain, too? He clicked his tongue to himself. He’ll ask Kiryu for the highlights later.Kiryu must have said something that Nishiki missed, because Majima said, “I’m throwing the towel down. I know when I’m beat. Take me to the HQ or whatever.” He winced and clutched at his side even harder. “Shimano’s probably gonna kill me,” he muttered. “Can’t say I give a shit anymore. I got nothing left holding me back.” He shrugged, winced again, then forced himself to shrug again.It suddenly clicked, why Majima sounded so different: his accent was gone. He didn’t sound like the put-on voice of the madman allegedly from Kansai. He sounded like them, like… just another man from Kanto.“You don’t have nothing left,” Nishiki found himself saying. He heard Majima scoff.“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t know me. You got to keep your kyodai, I didn’t.”“What about Saejima Yasuko?”Majima winced again. “What about her? Stop bringing her up.”“She’s here.”Majima’s eye had been bouncing between Katsuragi and Sugiuchi the entire time, but it finally landed on Nishiki. “Haw?” Like a switch flipped on, the accent was back.“We were planning on taking you to her,” Kiryu picked up. “She’s hiding out and waiting in a hotel for you.”Majima fixed his eye on Nishiki for a long time. Nishiki tried his best to hold the eye contact but he inevitably broke it. It was hard. Majima’s eye – wet, exhausted, inky, red-rimmed, grieving, withdrawn – tried its best not to reveal too much, but the desperate hope gleamed through.“Take me to her,” was all he said. The feeling of finality finally came. It was over.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Kamurocho
Hotel Lily
18:52
It was actually quite the journey from the roof of the Millennium Tower to Hotel Lily, but not in the way Nishiki would’ve thought.Kiryu was practically holding up Nishiki with one arm and Majima with the other, and he said that he asked Kazama to send Kazama Family men to assist with Ueno and Sugiuchi – but they were greeted at the roof’s elevator and stair entrance with Dojima Family men instead. Many, many more than the amount deployed by Mine that Kiryu had fought on the top floor.Nishiki could feel Kiryu tense up at the sight, and then he tensed up again by the action that followed: everyone bowed to him. A few bowed again and again as they ran past them to where the fallen men behind them were.“Oyaji,” one man in the front called out, voice loud and clear. “We sincerely disavow those few who joined Mine Yoshitaka and betrayed you. When we heard Mine’s announcement of your resignation, we still claimed our loyalty to you and put forth our best efforts either at the Tojo HQ or at the tower against the Ueno Seiwa Clan and the Majima Family.” (Majima may have snorted at that.)The Dojima man counted down and everyone dropped to their hands and knees and prostrated themselves. “Thank you, oyaji,” they cried out in unison.On the outside, it might have looked like Kiryu was his usual stoic self. But Nishiki knew on the inside that Kiryu was moved. It was in the way that his eyes carefully scanned over each and every one of his former men, taking them all in.“Thank you,” he said back.The men directed themselves to take Katsuragi’s body away, to take Ueno and Sugiuchi to medical services, and to escort Kiryu, Nishiki, and Majima through the tower to the Kazama Family waiting on the bottom floor, who then escorted them through the still-lingering chaos of the streets to the Hotel District.They made their way to Hotel Lily on their own. Nishiki leaned against Kiryu’s side but was mostly walking himself now, while Majima was dragging his feet. Nishiki offhandedly wondered if Majima had even been sleeping this week. The red of his eye said no.Nishiki told Kiryu to stop once they reached Yasuko’s door. He called her. She picked up after one ring. “We’re outside the door. We have Majima.” He heard her let out a quiet sound, likely a gasp or a cry. “I’m going in first before we let him in, alright?”“O-Okay…” she practically whispered before he hung up. He did their knock code against the door anyway before she opened it.Nishiki made sure to use his body to block Kiryu and Majima from Yasuko’s view before he closed the door behind himself. “Are you ready?” She looked like she was on the verge of tears but she nodded. “Are you sure?”“Y-Yes. I’ve been—I’ve…” She clutched her hands over her chest. Nishiki realized she was holding Saejima’s letters, the one addressed to her and the one addressed to Majima. “I’ve been waiting so long for this. I…”“Okay,” Nishiki murmured. A part of him, the old him still lingering somewhere inside, wanted to squeeze her shoulder or something, but he quelled the urge down. He just nodded to Yasuko, glanced toward the two Kazama men still guarding her, and went to grab his duffle bag from the corner of the room. He looked back at Yasuko as he went to open the door. “It’s…” Nishiki nodded toward her again. “It’s going to be hard now—shit, maybe for a long time, maybe for forever—but it’ll get easier. Trust me.”A tear escaped Yasuko’s eye as she nodded. Nishiki opened the door.He forced himself to not look back as Kiryu helped Majima in, as he heard Yasuko begin to sob. He only did once Kiryu and the Kazama men walked outside of the room. The Kazama men moved to guard the door from the outside. Kiryu lowly said something to them, likely thanking them or giving them an update, before he and Nishiki walked away.Once they turned down the hallway, out of view, Nishiki slumped against Kiryu’s side. “Where are we going?”“Home.” Nishiki paused but decided not to question it. Kiryu put an arm around his waist. “How do you feel?”Nishiki knew that Kiryu didn’t mean just physically this time. He considered it. He allowed himself to look into his mind that always stared back at him, that sometimes terrified him into never wanting to look again. But this time there was nothing too horrible to greet him, just Kiryu’s words from this morning echoed back: about being new men on new paths, about going forward in a new way, on their own and together.So, when Nishiki answered, “Better,” he didn’t mean it in the sense that he felt like he had become the better man that Saejima believed he could be, but that he was starting to believe that the idea of becoming a better man didn’t feel so impossible anymore.
Saturday, April 20, 1985
Kamurocho
Saejima and Yasuko’s Apartment
21:13
Majima stayed in the apartment for the rest of the day. His eyes kept falling on the bag of handguns he had kicked in the corner once Yasuko came back, and his eyes kept falling on Saejima, then would scatter away, before looking at him all over again.He wouldn’t stop talking to Saejima and Yasuko, it was like he couldn’t stop. He spouted on about random shit – about baseball, about the watermelon he bought for them, about the fucking weather, about what Yasuko wanted to do; she could go to school, she could work anywhere, she could do anything she wanted – until Saejima told him to shut up and talk about something else.After dinner, then once again when Yasuko went to bed after they both tightly hugged her goodnight, then once more when it was almost midnight, Majima said he should go. He refused to look at Saejima and the heavy air between them when he left, not even shutting the door behind himself.Neither of them was surprised when Majima came back less than ten minutes later. He silently crawled into Saejima’s bed and held on to him, Saejima held on to him too.Majima started talking again, because he had to. That was the best way he committed things into memory. He tightened his hands into Saejima and kept talking. His rambles in the nighttime were always different than his rambles in the daytime. While he was loud and magnetic in the day, he kept it quieter and more contemplative in the night.He talked about the money they had stowed away for Yasuko. He gave Saejima one last chance to back out, even though they both knew that Saejima would refuse. He talked about what-ifs. What if only one of them made it out on the other side, how were they supposed to live without the other? What if they both made it out alive but faced a fate worse than death? What if they fucked up so bad that they got punished? Because Shimano was fucking insane—“He ain’t right in the head,” Majima mumbled, digging his fingers into Saejima as if he could pin him in place and never let go. “I saw him eat five fugu livers in one night—five!—and I was waitin’ for him to drop dead the whole time. Never did. He got real pissed when they banned fugu liver in restaurants last year. Had me runnin’ around and threatenin’ every restaurant owner for leftovers during a collection day. I saw him eat a plate of fugu sashimi once, ate the whole fuckin’ thing, and I knew he was crazy. I could feel my whole fuckin’ face going numb but I had to act like I was fine—”“Majima,” Saejima said. Majima’s mouth immediately clamped shut. “Stay down here with me.”“What do you mean?” Saejima chose not to comment on Majima’s “accent” slipping again.“I’m right here. You’re talkin’ to me like we’re already dead.”Majima’s voice dropped even lower, “Aren’t we?”“Not yet. I’m right here. You’re right here.” Saejima pressed his lips against the top of Majima’s head. “I love ya, but talkin’ me to death ain’t gonna make the night go slower.”Majima got quiet again after that. He looked up, his eyes easily finding Saejima’s. He had been giving him the same look all day, a look that was so sad it hurt but accepting at the same time. “Why… does it feel like something bad is gonna happen?”“‘Cause it is.” Majima blanched. Not the answer he was looking for. Saejima tried again, “Whaddya mean?”“Like… Why does it feel like we’re never going to see each other again?” Saejima would never admit this because he knew Majima didn’t want to hear it, but he liked when he spoke like this: quietly and with his natural accent. It just made him think back to when they first met, when they instantly knew that they had to stay by each other’s sides for as long as they could – until life or death tore them apart, whatever came first. “We’re… going to die tomorrow, aren’t we? Do you feel it coming?”“No. The only thing I feel right now is you.” Saejima emphasized his point by squeezing his hand around Majima. “That’s it. That’s all that matters.”Majima looked like he wanted to argue back, then he looked like he bit his tongue, then he leaned up and kissed Saejima, over and over and over again, like it was the last time. When he leaned back, he kept a hand on the side of Saejima’s face. “I know I don’t say it a lot, but I love you too.”For the first time all day, Saejima felt himself smile. “I know.” He pulled Majima against him again, and Majima finally remained still. “Ya don’t have to say it. I know.”