Chapter Text
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-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-oyasan 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 they had, 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 remember 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
Shichif*cku 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. sh*t. 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, sh*t!”
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 sh*t. Nishiki damn near went flying. It took him a second to recenter himself.
When he reorientated himself 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 overhanding tarp.
“f*ck! Where’d he go?!”
“That was Nishikiyama Akira, right?”
“It was! I swear! It 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, huh?”
Nishiki’s head turned down to the ground, where the man who had pulled him in was beginning to stand up. sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t. 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. 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 red 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 Yosh*taka. 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 f*ck? 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 f*ck? No.” This was f*cking 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 f*ckin’ blind or something? The f*ck are ya just standin’ there for? Light my sh*t 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. “f*ckin’ insubordinate. f*ckin’ 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 sh*t to do. Big boy sh*t. 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 f*ckin’ 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 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 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 sh*t 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 sh*t 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, your ‘kyodai,’ and the victim of the case.” 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 sh*t. 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 wouldn’t do something like that.”
“You sure?” Sugiuchi leaned in slightly. “Seems like he got a good motive. Didn’t Shibata f*ck 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 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. 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 understandable 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, 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. Nishiki 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 the bar, 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 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 sh*t to do today. He already felt ready to collapse.
“Ooh, 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 sh*t 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.
