Smiling at the Moon: Volume 2 - Chapter 3 - part 2

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

At 11:15 in the morning, Yamada entered the apartment building's lobby and called Soichi. 

"Good morning, Yamada here."

"Yeah," came a brief response.

"Are you ready? If you’re about to leave, I’ll bring the car around."

"We still have some time. Get me some cigarettes and bring them up to my room."

"Understood."

After ending the call, Yamada jogged to the convenience store about forty seconds away and bought a pack of Soichi’s usual cigarettes. Soichi never bought cigarettes by the carton. He disliked keeping a stockpile at home, preferring a more minimalist lifestyle.

Returning to the apartment, Yamada went straight to room 2308. When Soichi asked him to bring things to his room, he was allowed to enter without knocking, so he used his spare key to open the door.

In the entryway, a pair of elegant, high-heeled shoes lay on their side. It seemed Reika had stayed over last night.

Soichi’s private room at 2308 was different from the luxurious, guest-friendly 2205. It was designed for living, yet still spacious and sophisticated, with a white theme complemented by dark brown furniture, giving it the feel of a high-end hotel.

In the living room, Soichi was fastening his shirt cuffs. Noticing Yamada’s entrance, he turned and said, "You’re quick."

"Here you go," Yamada said, placing the cigarettes on the table. Soichi immediately opened the pack, lit one, and exhaled a contented puff of smoke. Then he pointed to a dark brown paper bag on the table.

"Take that bag."

"What is it?"

"Your shoes. The ones you’re wearing now are in terrible shape."

His shoes had become deformed and worn out, likely from getting soaked in the rain last month. Although they didn’t have any holes, Soichi must have noticed their condition.

"Oh, no... thank you, but you really shouldn’t have."

"Don’t worry about it. Just make sure you keep your appearance neat."

Feeling embarrassed, Yamada apologized, "I’m sorry," and Soichi smiled faintly.

"Oh, Yamada," a high-pitched voice called out. Yamada turned to see Reika, dressed in a simple white dress, adjusting her hair. Her ample chest swayed gently.

"Perfect timing. Can you drive me home?"

"I’m accompanying Mr. Soichi today, so I can’t. I’ll call a taxi for you. What time?"

As Yamada took out his phone, Reika pouted.

"Are you always with Soichi these days? What’s Kato doing?"

"He’s on business in Kobe. Reika, don’t be so demanding," Soichi gently admonished, making Reika sigh dramatically.

"I’ll be fine. I can easily catch a cab downstairs... Soichi, let me borrow Yamada again sometime. There’s a match I want to see."

"Yamada is quite busy with Kimijima’s care as well."

Frustrated by Soichi's evasiveness, Reika put her hands on her hips.

"Get someone else to take care of that fat pig. He’s so disgusting. He even spoke to me at the entrance the other day. He’s smelly and greasy. Just looking at him makes me sick."

Spitting out her disdain for Kimijima, Reika finally left. After the storm had passed, Soichi shrugged slightly and asked, "Where was today's lunch meeting again?"

Yamada pulled out a leather notebook from his pocket and replied, "At 'Tsukisui' in Azabu, starting at twelve."

"Let's go," Soichi said, heading out. Yamada followed, carrying the paper bag and his briefcase. Though he generally walked behind Soichi, he moved ahead to open doors and press elevator buttons.

They descended to the basement and got into a luxury Japanese car for work. Just as they left the parking lot, they hit a red light. Through the bulletproof windows, Yamada could hear the cicadas' loud buzzing. The sun was harsh.

Seven months ago, during the winter, Yamada had been stabbed protecting Soichi. The attacker was the eldest son of a long-established stationery store owner in Ginza. Soichi, posing as a young entrepreneur, had taken him to an illegal casino, leading to a debt of 400 million yen¹. Unable to repay, the man lost his store and land, which were then acquired by a real estate company connected to the Motohashi group. It was a classic yakuza tactic, and upon realizing it, the man had lashed out in anger.

In the hospital, Kato explained the situation to Yamada. "We settled the score for your injury," he said, but Yamada didn’t ask for details, sensing it was better not to know.

The wound was deeper than expected, requiring surgery and thirty stitches. When Michihiko visited, he cried a lot, and Yamada apologized repeatedly. While he didn’t regret protecting Soichi, he knew he could have died if the cut had been more severe. Feeling Michihiko’s weight sobbing against his stomach, Yamada was simply glad to be alive.

After a month of recovery, by mid-February, Yamada's right arm was functional again, and he returned to attending to Kimijima.

On his first night back, Soichi and Kato took Yamada to a club in Ginza. The women surrounding him smelled great and were all stunning, like butterflies. His hand trembled with nervousness as he held his drink.

Just as he was feeling pleasantly tipsy, Soichi asked if there was any woman he liked. "Choose any woman. I’ll let you have her," he said. Thinking it was a joke, Yamada named a voluptuous beauty.

When Yamada woke up, he found himself in a spacious hotel room with a large, pale breast in front of him.

Longing for the feel of a woman, he eagerly sucked on the pink nipples and grabbed the soft breasts. Half-asleep, he wondered when Michihiko’s chest had grown so large before realizing it was someone else.

Understanding this was Soichi’s way of rewarding him, Yamada wanted to plunge into the wet valley between the woman’s legs, but the image of Michihiko crying flashed in his mind, so he pulled away. He took care of himself in the bathroom, and when he came out, the woman looked at him curiously. "Sorry, I have someone," he explained, raising his pinky finger.

"If you don’t tell, no one will know," she replied nonchalantly.

"But they’d cry if he found out..."

When Yamada mumbled, the woman laughed.

"But they have small breasts... I like big ones."

"You can touch them all you want," she said, and Yamada buried his face in her soft breasts and slept until morning.

The next day, Yamada reported to the apartment at 10 in the morning. Kimijima, who greeted him with "It was tough without you," sent him on an errand to Akihabara. After returning and preparing cup ramen for himself, Soichi called. Dropping everything, Yamada immediately thanked him.

"Thanks for everything last night."

"Did you enjoy it?"

From his tone, Soichi seemed in a good mood.

"Yes, it was the best."

Soichi laughed on the other end of the line.

"Have you eaten lunch?"

"Not yet..."

"Come to room 2205."

Wondering what the errand was, Yamada went to the room to find two lunch sets on the living room table.

"I ordered lunch delivery. It’s boring to eat alone. Join me."

"Well... if you don’t mind me..."

"If you’re free, I don’t mind it."

Hesitant, Yamada took a seat. Previously, he might have declined, but drinking together the night before had brought them closer. Still, unsure of what to talk about with the intelligent Soichi, Yamada silently ate the roast beef.

"By the way..."

Soichi started.

"Are you gay?"

Yamada almost spat out his food.

"Uh... what?"

"The club's manager emailed me. She said nothing happened with that girl at the hotel."

"Well, that’s... because..."

Soichi’s searching gaze made Yamada feel like he was being questioned about why he didn’t take the opportunity offered.

"I... have someone," Yamada said, curling his pinky finger. Soichi raised an eyebrow.

"It wouldn’t matter if no one knew."

He repeated what the woman from yesterday had said.

"No... it’s just that if they cried, it would be terrible. They’re very jealous and scary when they get mad. But I did enjoy her breasts, so thank you for the treat."

"Breasts?"

Soichi looked puzzled.

"I like big breasts, but that person has tiny ones. Like little beans. It had been a while since I had big ones to play with, so I was quite satisfied."

Soichi’s shoulders started to shake. As I wondered what was going on, he looked up and burst into laughter. Ignoring my shrinking figure, he laughed heartily and then smiled, "You’re funny."

Since the incident, Soichi’s attitude towards me had drastically changed. Previously, he barely acknowledged my presence, treating me like part of the scenery. Now, in Kato's absence, he entrusted me with the role of a bodyguard under the guise of a secretary.

"As a secretary, do you need anything?" Soichi asked me once.

"I was planning to buy a briefcase," I replied.

"A briefcase?"

"One with a steel plate inside. It’s custom-made, so it takes some time."

"A steel plate? Are you planning a barbecue?"

Soichi looked serious, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. Although he was the boss’s son, Soichi had never been attacked before being slashed by the stationery store heir. He might genuinely not know.

"Bodyguards often carry bags with steel plates inside to protect against knives and bullets during an attack."

"I see. I’ll get that for you."

"But..."

"As a secretary, you need a bag of a certain level too."

Soichi ordered a high-end brand to create a custom bag with reinforced plastic and steel plates for me.

From then on, Soichi started buying me various things. When he saw me writing in a cheap notebook, he gave me one with a leather cover the next day. When my suit looked worn, I received a new one. If my belt didn’t match my suit, I got a new belt. He replaced anything he noticed.

As I began to work as his bodyguard, I met more of Soichi’s business associates. It was clear that standing behind a perfectly groomed young businessman, I couldn’t look like a cheap thug. While I tried to keep up appearances, I wasn’t getting paid for following Soichi. The occasional honey trap scams I did with Ryota and Meirin helped cover the gang’s dues, but I had no extra money for personal expenses.

Feeling uneasy about being treated like this, I once consulted Kato.

"Just let Mr. Soichi do what he wants," Kato said, slurping ramen in a stall under a train track late at night.

"But..."

"Soichi is a fashion enthusiast. Besides, he likes you."

Kato showed no concern.

"But these are all expensive things. I didn’t realize how much until Michihiko pointed it out."

"To Mr. Soichi, 50,000 or 100,000 yen is pocket change. Just accept it and keep him in a good mood."

Kato continued, "No matter how much we tried, Soichi never wanted anyone else around except me. He thought it was uncool to have a bunch of attendants like his father. But given the kind of work he does, he has many enemies. After the incident with the stationery store heir, he finally understood the need for protection and decided to keep you close. It’s a good trend. He even praised you, saying you’re an honest, unselfish guy he can trust. He’s starting to realize how reassuring it is to have someone dependable at his back."

Hearing this made me so happy I shivered. Knowing that I was trusted, I became even more determined to protect him.

"Yamada."

I heard Soichi call from the back seat. I glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"Yes?"

"Join us for lunch today."

When business discussions occurred over meals, I usually waited in another room or outside. Sometimes I joined, and today was one of those times.

"Understood."

It was easier to do my job as a bodyguard when present at the meeting, though I rarely understood the business talk.

My phone rang. Kimijima’s name appeared on the screen. Knowing it was something trivial, I ignored it.

I parked the car at "Tsukisui," entered the restaurant, and noted that the other party hadn’t arrived yet. I excused myself to call Kimijima back.

As expected, he wanted me to pick up a limited-edition figurine. Lately, I’d been accompanying Soichi more, making it hard to care for Kimijima full-time. With Soichi’s permission, Ryota occasionally helped, but he had work with the gang today.

"I really can’t do it today."

"You’re my caretaker. What are you doing?"

Kimijima’s shrill voice was annoying, so I held the phone away from my ear.

"I have other work. Ryota can’t help either. We talked about this yesterday."

"But today is the release day!"

Kimijima was like a child, insisting until he got his way. Frustrated, I ruffled my hair.

"Fine, I’ll get it tonight, even if it’s late."

"What time exactly?!"

At my wit’s end, I ended the call abruptly with, "I’ll call you when I’m free," and turned off the phone. Returning to the private room, I was relieved the other party hadn’t arrived yet.

"Who was that?" Soichi asked as I sat down.

"Kimijima."

"Another errand?"

"Yeah, he wants me to pick up some weird figurine. Ryota’s busy today..."

"As a stock manipulator, he’s talented, but his hobbies are off-putting."

Soichi sighed and lit a cigarette.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

After the lunch meeting and visiting two companies, it was past six in the evening. There were no plans for a dinner meeting tonight.

Soichi meets with various people from different professions and social standings every day. Often, the meetings are just casual conversations. Once, I mentioned to Kato, "Is that really considered work?" He laughed heartily.

"What do you think Soichi does?" he asked me again, making me realize I couldn't answer.

"Soichi believes building connections and gathering information are crucial. He makes an effort to meet with people like company managers and section chiefs because they often know more about the company's inner workings than the higher-ups. Sometimes, the higher-ups know things that the lower levels don't, too. Using that information, Soichi evaluates the company's performance and directs Kimijima to manipulate stocks accordingly. With the right connections, information flows naturally."

I had never felt my own naivety and shallowness as acutely as I did then.

"Yamada, what's the plan for tonight?" Soichi asked from the back seat, looking slightly tired.

"No plans tonight. Just heading back to the apartment."

A faint smile appeared on Soichi's lips. "I meant your plans, Yamada."

"My plans? I don't have any either."

"Then let's stop somewhere for dinner before heading back."

After a moment's thought, I declined. "Sorry, but can I pass?"

Soichi's cheek twitched slightly. "You don't have plans, right?"

"That's true, but I was thinking of picking up the figurine Kimijima requested."

"You can get it tomorrow."

For once, Soichi looked annoyed. "He’ll keep nagging if I don’t, and I might not have time tomorrow. Better to get it done today."

"…I see. Well, then, there's nothing to be done."

Soichi's quick concession was a relief. Unlike Kimijima, Soichi was reasonable. I dropped Soichi off at his apartment and then took the train to Akihabara. I picked up the reserved figurine, carefully avoiding damage to the box on the crowded train ride back. By the time I returned to the apartment, it was nearly 8 PM.

Just before entering the building, I received an email from Michihiko: "What time will you be home today?" Checking my watch, I replied, "I'll be back by nine. I'm starving." While in the elevator, he responded, "Dinner's oyakodon, just needs the egg added." Michihiko's oyakodon was sweet but delicious. My stomach growled, acknowledging the late hour.

Opening the door to Kimijima's lair on the fourteenth floor, I saw a pair of dark brown leather shoes I recognized as Soichi’s. He rarely visited this apartment due to Kimijima’s odor and lack of cleanliness. Curious, I entered the room.

Not seeing them in the living room, I guessed they were in Kimijima’s trading room. Not wanting to interrupt if they were having a serious conversation, I approached the door to inform Kimijima about the figurine.

"Yamada is useless," I heard Kimijima's voice through the door, stopping me in my tracks.

"He’s dumb, inconsiderate, and I hate his yakuza attitude. Can’t you send me someone normal instead of a thug?"

"Soichi’s voice was calm. "Yamada is doing well."

"Maybe he’s putting on an act in front of you, but he's terrible with me. He beats and kicks me all the time."

I widened my eyes. I had often felt like killing Kimijima but had never laid a hand on him. I accepted the ridiculous errands as part of the job.

"Stop lying," Soichi’s stern voice came through as I was about to burst into the room.

"Yamada doesn’t touch civilians. And hiring non-yakuza for this job is impossible. You underestimate the illegality of what you’re doing. What if the 'normal person' you hire runs to the police?"

Kimijima fell silent.

"If you dislike Yamada, we can replace him with another member. But I doubt you’ll find anyone as diligent."

I quietly moved away from the door, placing the figurine on the living room table. Exiting the apartment, I decided to act as if I hadn’t overheard the conversation.

During the walk and the train ride, Soichi’s words of trust in me replayed in my mind. Kato had said, "You’ve earned Soichi’s favor." I had sensed Soichi’s goodwill and trust through his actions and words, but hearing it confirmed so clearly made me feel overjoyed.

The yakuza’s surrogate family binds through duty, gratitude, and trust—not money. As the train clattered monotonously, I clung to the handrail tightly. For Soichi’s sake, I felt I could die. To protect that man, I believed I could die.

Realizing I was out of cigarettes, I headed to the convenience store. My stomach felt heavy from the oyakodon I had eaten.

Michihiko accompanied me. As we walked side by side, I noticed he was taller. I disliked being looked down upon, so I walked ahead, but he kept catching up. The same distance apart on the way back, his presence felt like a warm, stifling breeze. I ripped open the cellophane of the newly bought cigarettes.

"Got a show you want to watch?"

"No, not really."

"Then why are you walking so fast?"

Not wanting to explain, I clicked my tongue and slowed down.

"By the way, did you buy shoes?"

He hadn't seen inside the box, yet he guessed they were shoes. His sharpness reminded me of a woman.

"Mr. Soichi gave them to me."

I looked up at the sky.

"He’s really a good person. He’s smart, competent, and has a good heart."

"You say that because he gives you expensive things?"

I slapped Michihiko’s cheek. His small head snapped to the right.

"Don’t be vulgar. It’s not about gifts. He’s smart, capable, and genuinely kind."

Michihiko pouted and glared back at me.

"What’s your problem?"

When I asked, he answered, "Nothing."

"Then don’t look at me like that."

"I was born this way."

"Don’t give me that crap!"

I yelled, and he suddenly closed the distance. I thought he might hit me, but he just grabbed my arm, lifting it high to reveal the deep, long scar on the inside of my arm, about five centimeters below the wrist. It looked better than it did initially but was still prominent, especially in short sleeves. I didn’t hide it, thinking it added to my tough image.

"Shinji, you might boast about that scar as a badge of honor, but to me, it's just a wound. I don't understand why you had to get hurt protecting that person."

Yamada snorted. "What are you talking about? It's my job to protect Mr. Soichi."

"But why do you have to protect him?"

"I've told you a thousand times! It's my job."

"You decided it was your job. You don't actually have to do it."

Yamada stomped his feet in frustration. "I'm a yakuza, and the group is my family. I have a role, and that role is to protect Mr. Soichi. Even among brothers, some are scum. But Mr. Soichi is different. He's the one who's going to lead the group into the future. Protecting someone like that is an honor for me."

He thumped his chest. Michihiko pursed his lips and fell silent. As Yamada started to walk away, he heard a voice.

"Shinji, you're just intoxicated."

Yamada stopped.

"You're just drunk on the idea of risking your life to protect someone. You say Mr. Soichi is a good person, but isn't he just making money by deceiving people? He's not a good person at all!"

Before he could think, Yamada lashed out. He kicked Michihiko in the calf and elbowed him in the back as he bent forward. Michihiko collapsed onto the sidewalk, clutching his back and groaning.

"You have no right to talk about our business! You're just a privileged kid who got to college with your parents' help, living an easy life!"

Michihiko stayed curled up on the ground. As Yamada was about to check if he had gone too far, Michihiko slowly looked up.

"...Why are you in the yakuza?"

The question was soft but piercing. Yamada clutched his chest.

"This is the only way I know how to live."

"Liar!" Michihiko shook his head.

"You can do anything if you want to. You just use being a yakuza as an excuse not to."

Yamada gulped.

"Shinji, you're over 20 now. You can't keep blaming your parents or your environment. No one will sympathize with you. You're an adult. And the yakuza aren't your real family. A real family wouldn't make you do bad things for money. You're clinging to that because you're weak."

Yamada clenched his teeth hard. His fists trembled with rage.

"You're just leaning on them because you're afraid to be alone."

He grabbed Michihiko by the collar and punched him without holding back. Michihiko flew backward, blood spurting from his nose.

"What about you? You're just a freak who gets aroused by men and wags your dick like a tail."

Michihiko wiped his bloody nose roughly.

"I'm not ashamed of it. I love you, Shinji."

"You're disgusting. Don't ever come to my place again. If you do, I'll kill you."

Yamada walked away, his clenched fist covered in Michihiko's blood, crushing the cigarette pack. He threw the squashed pack across the street in irritation.

Back at the apartment, the first thing Yamada saw was Michihiko's crossbody bag. He grabbed it and threw it off the balcony toward the sidewalk. The bag fluttered like a large bird, slowly disappearing into the darkness.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

The phone in Yamada’s pocket buzzed. He placed the iced coffee he had taken out from a nearby café on the living room table and took out the buzzing device. It was a text from Ryota: “Wanna go to the beach the day after tomorrow?” it read, in his usual laid-back manner.

Yamada liked the beach, but the dragon tattoo on his back was a hassle. Unlike those who had them as fashion statements, his was unmistakably traditional Japanese, immediately marking him as a yakuza. He didn’t care what strangers thought, but getting hassled by local punks was a pain. Wearing a T-shirt the whole time was also annoying.

It was obvious he was being invited as a third wheel on Ryota and Meirin’s date. Not wanting to be a nuisance, he quickly replied, “I have work, so I’ll pass.”

He scrolled through his main inbox folder. Most emails were from Ryota or Kato, and sometimes from Meirin. The most recent one from Michihiko was dated ten days ago. Ever since he beat him up and threw out his stuff, they hadn’t contacted each other. Even when they were apart while Michihiko attended high school back in their hometown, they’d never gone this long without contact. Yamada clicked his tongue and put his phone away.

He took two iced coffees to Kimijima’s otaku room. Soichi had been visiting Kimijima’s place more frequently lately, likely planning something big. Normally, he’d leave Kimijima to handle his own coffee, but with Soichi there, he couldn’t be so lax.

“I’m coming in,” he called before entering Kimijima’s trading room. Despite the air conditioning, the room reeked of sweat. Kimijima was in his chair in front of the monitor, and Soichi was seated on a sofa behind him.

“We can sell Yobo Corporation's stock now,” Soichi said, sipping the iced coffee Yamada had brought him. Soichi looked cool and casual in a cut-and-sew shirt and cotton pants, while Kimijima looked sloppy in a stretched-out T-shirt with manga characters and faded cotton pants.

“But the news just came out that Yobo is merging with Take Industries. The stock will keep rising,” Kimijima argued.

“You know as well as I do that Yobo Corporation is one of Maruyama group’s stock manipulation targets. If we don’t sell now while the price is decent, we’ll risk losses instead of profits.”

After meeting various people with Soichi and hearing their talks, Yamada had started to grasp how stock manipulation worked. Some companies, struggling with finances, would resort to shady loans and then be blackmailed into letting yakuza manipulate their stock. These were called "target stocks." Soichi himself held a majority of stock in a company called Blue Line Corporation, using it as a target stock.

Maruyama group, a rival group, used Yobo Corporation as their target stock. Recently, Yobo had been making headlines for acquiring Take Industries, boosting its stock price. But Take Industries was a failing company, and Maruyama group had funneled millions into it to make it look successful, or so the rumors said.

Unaware investors were snapping up Yobo’s stock, pushing the price up to six times what it was six months ago. Maruyama group planned to sell their holdings at the peak price, pocketing a massive profit even after deducting their investment in Take Industries. If done right, they could make millions.

Soichi, knowing this, held some Yobo stock himself, ready to sell high. But once the price started to drop, it would be hard to sell, potentially leading to huge losses. That’s what Soichi was worried about.

Soichi wanted to sell; Kimijima wanted to hold a bit longer. Yamada didn’t know which was the right call.

Eventually, Soichi gave in. “Sell when you think it’s right. But if you don’t sell in time and we incur losses, there will be penalties.”

Kimijima reluctantly agreed, sipping the iced coffee Yamada had brought. “This is watered down,” he complained. Yamada bit back the retort that the ice had melted while Kimijima yammered on and ignored him.

“About getting you an assistant...” Soichi began.

As if to interrupt Soichi, Kimijima pushed up his black-rimmed glasses that were a bit too harsh on his ugly face with his index finger, "Ah, you see," he said.

"I think we had a few candidates in mind, someone who'd retired from a securities company and an ex-banker, but which one did you like best?"

"I thought about it a lot, but I don't think you need to go all the way to a professional."

Kimijima rubbed his greasy mustache.

"It's to lighten your workload. In the future, I plan to split the work in half. It's meaningless unless they’re a capable person."

"You say that, but your stocks are a lot of small things, so it's a pain to manage them. Dividing the work would just make it even more complicated. I do need help, but I think it's easier for me to use students than professionals who only have a half-baked understanding. I know a guy who's a university lecturer, and the other day he introduced me to some students who are interested in stocks, and there was one good one among them."

Soichi folded his arms and frowned blatantly, "...students."

Sensing Soichi’s displeasure, Kimijima turned away. “If it’s not a student, I don’t want an assistant at all. I can do the work myself.”

Yamada shot Soichi a look, silently asking for permission to discipline Kimijima, but Soichi shook his head with a wry smile.

After a short silence, Soichi relented. “Fine. Bring the student.”

Kimijima turned back, smug. “I think he’ll be useful. His name is Kanou, from my alma mater.”

Yamada swallowed hard. It couldn’t be... Kanou wasn't an uncommon surname. How many universities and students could there be in Tokyo? It was just a coincidence.

After Soichi left, Yamada couldn’t shake his unease. He paced, debating with himself before finally deciding to confront Kimijima. He entered the otaku’s den again.

“Knock before entering,” Kimijima said without turning around, annoying Yamada to the point of realizing he didn’t even want to talk to this man.

“Which university did you attend?” Yamada demanded.

Kimijima swiveled in his chair. “What does that matter to you?”

“Just answer.”

Yamada kicked the sofa bed Kimijima used for naps, causing him to jump.

“Fine! T University.”

Yamada’s cheek twitched. Same as Michihiko.

“What’s the student’s name?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Tell me his name!”

Pressured by Yamada’s intensity, Kimijima stammered, “K-Kanou, Kanou Michihiko.”

Yamada ran his fingers through his hair, growling low like a dog. He glared down at the greasy otaku.

“What?” Kimijima asked, scared.

“Don’t bring him here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you deaf? Don’t bring that student here!”

“I don’t understand.”

Yamada grabbed Kimijima’s collar, lifting him. “Want your nose broken?”

Kimijima whimpered. “P-Please...”

“I said, do you want your greasy nose broken?!”

Kimijima’s thick lips quivered, exuding a rancid smell. Yamada shoved him, sending him rolling on the floor. He stomped his foot near Kimijima’s crotch. The usually red-faced otaku turned pale.

“Kanou Michihiko is an acquaintance of mine!”

Kimijima trembled, barely managing to nod repeatedly.

“If you get him involved, I’ll rip your balls off and shove them down your throat.”

Terrified, Kimijima nodded again and again, tears in his eyes.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

After paying the tribute to the group, I was walking toward the JR station when I unexpectedly ran into Meirin just before the traffic light.

"What are you doing out at this time? What about university?"

Although it was September, the lingering heat was still intense. Meirin was wearing a camisole, short pants, and lace-up sandals.

"Day off today."

I often see Meirin at work a few times a month, but it's always at night. It had been a while since I saw her in daylight. Her personality was tough, and her cooking was excessively spicy with poor taste, but she was undeniably beautiful.

I checked my watch; it was almost noon. I had already informed Kimijima via email that I would head to Roppongi in the afternoon after stopping by the office.

"How about grabbing lunch somewhere?"

I invited her, but Meirin quickly declined, saying, "I'm meeting a friend." She ran her fingers through her hair, revealing a faint tan line on her slender arm.

"You got a tan?"

"Can you tell?" Meirin stroked the tan line.

"I went to the beach."

Come to think of it, she had invited me too. Meirin took out her phone and showed me a picture of her and Ryota smiling with their faces close together.

"There are more."

Although I hadn't asked, Meirin continued to show me beach photos, where I noticed Michihiko and Mori. I let out a small "Huh."

"They went with you too?"

"Yeah, even though I invited you."

In Meirin's phone, Michihiko was laughing happily with Mori. It had been almost three weeks since I last heard from him.

"…Did he say anything?"

"Huh?"

"Did Michihiko say anything about me?"

Meirin thought for a moment, then clapped her hands as if she remembered something.

"He said he wouldn't apologize."

"What?"

"He said he wouldn't apologize because he did nothing wrong."

My already overheated head from the heat felt like it was boiling over. I turned my back on Meirin and walked away without saying goodbye.

"Yamada, apologize quickly!"

Why should I have to take orders from you? I thought as I headed to the station. My anger remained, and I boarded the train. With my temper flaring, everything annoyed me, even strangers' laughter. I glared at everyone who met my gaze. Unable to bear it any longer, Yamada took out his cell phone. Disregarding that he was on the train, he made a phone call. The call connected on the tenth ring and the moment he heard Michihiko's voice say "Yes," he roared "Damn you, you should die!" and hung up the phone.

Everyone stared at me, and I snarled, "What are you looking at?" The train fell silent.

My phone rang. I thought it was the idiot Michihiko again, but it was Kato.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm on the train… Oh, I'm almost at the station. I'll be heading over in the afternoon since I stopped by the office today…"

"Come to room 2205 immediately."

That was all he said before hanging up. Kato's voice was unusually tense. It wasn't the 14th floor where Kimijima was, nor the 23rd floor where Soichi's private room was. Room 2205 was for guests. Feeling a sense of foreboding, I jumped off the train as soon as it arrived at the station and ran to the apartment.

In room 2205, filled with a vast collection of books, Kato and Soichi were waiting for me. I was slightly out of breath from running, but neither of them acknowledged my prompt arrival. Their stares were piercingly cold.

"Um, do you need something?"

The unfamiliar coldness was stronger than when we first met, and I couldn't approach within five meters of Soichi sitting on the sofa, with Kato standing behind him.

"I thought it was urgent..."

There was no reply. I didn't want to seem annoying, so I stopped asking and waited for their response. The silence was long. Feeling their cold stares, or perhaps because of the lingering effects of my run, sweat trickled down my back.

Soichi broke the silence with a heavy sigh.

"Kimijima wants to make a student his assistant. Is this student an acquaintance of yours?"

That bald fat guy must have tattled! I thought as I replied, "Yes."

"We've known each other for a long time. He's an ordinary guy, so I didn't want him involved in this…"

"That's convenient."

Soichi clasped his hands together on the table and smiled faintly.

"If he's your acquaintance, he shouldn't mind dealing with yakuza. I'd like to make your acquaintance Kimijima's assistant."

I stiffened my cheeks and started, "But..."

"I don't want to involve an ordinary guy in something that could get him arrested."

"You care about your friends."

Though his tone was gentle, his gaze was intense.

"If what you're saying is true, that is."

"What?"

The chair creaked as Soichi slowly stood up.

"Kimijima said you were planning to train this acquaintance to make money as your personal broker and that you tried to threaten him to prevent me from taking him."

I was so shocked I thought my eyes would pop out. I shook my head violently.

"It's a lie! I've never thought about doing stocks!"

"If it's not true, prove it."

"…Prove it?"

"If you're innocent, make that student Kimijima's assistant."

I bowed my head, clasped my hands tightly, and bit my lip until I tasted blood. After a long silence, I dropped to my knees and pressed my forehead to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

I spoke while bowing.

"I swear on my life I won't use him to make money. So please, don't make him Kimijima's assistant."

Footsteps approached. Then, I felt a shock to the back of my head. The vibration transmitted to my forehead. Without looking up, I knew my head was being stepped on.

"What a cheap life you have."

Soichi's soft voice from above contrasted with the increasing pressure on my head.

"Who is your boss?"

"...You, Mr. Soichi."

The pressure on my head disappeared, but the next moment, my hair was grabbed, and my face was lifted. I was face to face with Soichi, whose terrifyingly handsome face was inches away.

"If you swear loyalty to me, do everything I want."

He pushed me back, and I crashed into the bookshelf, momentarily losing my breath. Soichi snorted in irritation and left the room. Kato stared down at me, bewildered.

"…You don't need to look after Kimijima anymore. Don't come to this building until I contact you."

It was a dismissal notice. Trembling, I shook my head.

"I… I haven't betrayed Mr. Soichi. Not in any way."

Kato's eyes showed a hint of pity and sympathy.

"Words can cause disaster, Yamada."

"Huh…"

"Mr. Soichi doesn't truly believe Kimijima's story. He knows you don't care about stocks and that you don't want to involve your ordinary friend. He understands but still did it."

"Why…"

I didn't understand. Kato narrowed his eyes.

"It's punishment."

Trembling, I clung to Kato's feet.

"Did I do something to upset Mr. Soichi? If I did, I'll apologize. I'll apologize, so please tell me what I did wrong. Was it because I spoke to Kimijima without consulting him? But I thought it was a minor issue…"

Desperately clinging, I was brushed off irritably.

"You told Kimijima, didn't you?"

"Told him what…"

After a pause, Kato said, "Mr. Soichi's secret."

Soichi, who couldn't feel satisfied without being fucked by a woman wearing a strap-on. I felt the blood drain from my entire body.

"I didn't say anything!"

"Kimijima said you did. He also said you mocked Mr. Soichi's secret."

I shook my head violently.

"I didn't say it, never!"

"If not you, then who? Reika said she only told you."

I stammered.

"I… I respect Mr. Soichi. I'd give my life for him. I wouldn't tell anyone, especially not that bastard Kimijima. Please believe me. I'll even cut off my finger if you believe me."

Tears flowed freely.

"Please believe me… Mr. Kato."

As I clung to his shoe, crying, Kato sighed above me.

"I'd like to believe you more than that bastard Kimijima. But if not you, who else would tell Kimijima about Mr. Soichi's secret?"

"I don't know, I really don't…"

Kato was silent for a while but finally muttered, "This is troublesome," and crouched down.

"People have all sorts of quirks. I know someone with a wife and kids who said the best was a dog. Mr. Soichi could accept himself, but he's too proud. And he took a liking to you, so he's even more annoyed."

"What should I do?"

Kato frowned at my snot-covered face and sighed again.

"He's not the type to keep a betrayer close. Maybe he doubts you did it, but he can't be sure. It'd be best to tighten the screws on Kimijima, but now's not the right time."

"…The right time?"

Kato shook his head.

"That's our issue. Either way, Mr. Soichi is angry, and Kimijima wants you fired. Go home for now. I'll contact you if anything happens."

Kato lightly patted my slumped shoulder.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW, violence.

1. Around $2,480,958.80 USD.

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