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

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

I went to room 1410 and unlocked the door with the spare key. As I forcefully pulled it open, it was stopped by the interior chain. The chain had never been used before, so they must have anticipated this. The thought made me even angrier, and I kicked the door several times, shouting curses, but there was no response, whether they heard me or not.

Frustrated, I left the building and took the train. Unable to calm down, I kept tapping my feet in agitation and repeatedly took my phone out of my pocket only to put it back again. As the Yamanote Line circled around, I found myself in front of the university that Michihiko attended. The signs from the station made the location easy to find.

Even though we haven't spoken in nearly three weeks, it was a short distance if I wanted to meet him. No one would catch me just for going inside, but I still felt a strange hesitation. As I paced back and forth like a dog in front of the gate, I saw a man in his thirties wearing a T-shirt go inside. I followed him through the gate.

The campus was neatly paved with cobblestones, flanked by grass, trees, and benches. Whether because of the heat or classes being in session, there were hardly any students outside. I left the path and stood under the shade of a tree. The phone connected after the seventh ring.

“Where are you?” 

No response. My voice grew louder. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” 

"What do you want, asshole?" 

Realizing his snarky response was due to my angry call, I instinctively hung up. I threw my phone as hard as I could, watching it bounce like a ball. The satisfaction lasted only a moment, and ten minutes later, I ran to where it landed and searched around. Thankfully, it landed on the grass and wasn't broken.

I called Michihiko again. This time, he picked up on the fifth ring.

"Hey, don't give me any crap."

I spoke first before he could say anything.

"Next time, the phone might really break."

Instead of sarcasm, Michihiko went silent.

"I have something serious to talk about. Where are you?"

After what felt like an eternity, he finally answers, "The dorm."

"Aren't you at the university?"

"It's still summer break...Shinji, where are you?"

"In the garden, where the grass is."

"At the university?"

"Yeah."

"Wait there. I'll be there in three minutes."

He hangs up. Summer break... No wonder it's empty. Feeling foolish, I get annoyed thinking about how long their summer break is compared to elementary school, wondering when they actually study. Suddenly, I see a figure running from the gate.

Looking around, Michihiko spots me and approaches. He’s wearing a T-shirt and shorts, with sandals on his feet.

He stands in front of me, slightly out of breath. Seeing him for the first time in a while, his skin is slightly tanned like Meirin's.

"You met with Kimijima, didn't you?"

I get straight to the point. Michihiko blinks in surprise.

"How did you know?"

"Did he offer you a well-paying job or something?"

Michihiko nods, and I point at him.

"Listen, you absolutely mustn't do it. Don't even think about it."

The cicadas above us chirp loudly in the silence.

"Why not?"

Michihiko asks quietly.

"Kimijima is working for Soichi. If you get involved with him, you'll end up in trouble. Refuse now. If you say no, they won't force you. I wanted to help, but no one listens to me anymore."

Michihiko stares at me.

"So, you came all the way to the university to tell me this?"

"I was on my way back."

"The apartment you're working at is in Roppongi, and your place is in Okubo. It's the opposite direction."

"I was shopping."

"With nothing to show for it?"

Stop probing if you already know! Feeling embarrassed, I turn on my heel towards the gate. But Michihiko grabs my arm to stop me.

"Thank you."

I turn back to look at him.

"Thank you, Shinji."

Michihiko smiles slightly. His grip on my arm is warm and a bit sweaty. The piercing sunlight causes a slight dizziness. When I pull my arm, the distance between us closes.

"Take me to the restroom."

Michihiko leads me into the university building. The old-looking campus has also aged inside, with many small steps and abrupt changes in wall color from repeated renovations. Spotting the men's restroom sign down the hall, I grab Michihiko's hand and walk quickly. The restroom is empty. Taking advantage of this, I drag him into a stall.

"Sh-Shinji..."

I pull his sweaty body close and kiss him roughly. My three weeks of pent-up lust make the kiss sloppy, with saliva dripping. Lifting his T-shirt, I see his nipples are wet with sweat, standing erect. I suck on them, gently biting. His erection, apparent through his shorts, twitches when I pull down his shorts and underwear.

"I don't want to do it in the restroom," Michihiko said, twisting in a panic.

"You can't do it in the dorm, right?"

"Then, a hotel..."

"We don't have time for that. You've made me wait long enough."

I pressed Michihiko against the bathroom door, making him face it and squeezing his thighs together. Then, I thrust my throbbing penis between his thighs and moved my hips fiercely. The bathroom door shook as if there was an earthquake. Due to my pent-up sexual desire, it takes only a few thrusts before I release. At almost the same moment, Michihiko's fluids also splatter against the bathroom door.

Sitting on the closed toilet seat, I pull Michihiko onto my lap. I strip off his shorts and underwear, leaving him completely naked.

"Getting naked in a place like this, you're a real pervert," I say, pinching his nipple.

Michihiko blames me, "You're the one who stripped me."

"You made me wait, didn't you?"

"It's because you didn't apologize for saying those awful things."

We both fall silent as we hear the bathroom door open. Someone hums as they enter but doesn't lock the door, indicating they're using the urinals. I bite Michihiko's nipple. He stifles a small scream, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. I pull his moist body closer, playing with the small nub with my tongue. He writhes sensually, reminding me of an exotic dancer.

As soon as the person leaves, I grab both our erect members, squeezing and rubbing them together until we both climax.

Michihiko clings to me, breathing shallowly. As his breathing calms, I notice tears rolling down his cheeks, startling me.

"Do you think I'm disgusting?"

"What? Where did that come from?"

"You called me disgusting."

"I didn't say that."

"You called me a freak and disgusting."

I remember throwing some insults during our fight, but I honestly can't recall exactly what I said.

"I don't think you're disgusting or a freak."

"You threw my stuff out the window."

"That was... I was just a bit angry..."

"My phone broke because of that."

"I-I'm sorry."

Michihiko closes his eyes, murmuring in a trembling voice, "Finally, you apologize." Seeing him cling to me like this, I can't even remember why we fought.

We kiss softly, like making up, and in between, Michihiko asks, "Why..."

"Why what?"

"Why don't you ever put your penis inside me?"

I brush aside his sweaty bangs.

"Do you want me to fuck you in the ass?"

Despite asking, he answered foolishly, "I don't know, maybe..."

I suck his tongue deeply before releasing him.

"Just rubbing feels good enough, doesn't it?"

"But if I were a girl, you'd definitely put it in, right?"

I pinch his cheek.

"What?"

His sulky face makes me laugh. He pouts, annoyed.

"I'm being serious."

"I get it, but does it really matter if I put it in or not?"

"You got mad before, saying I had a dick."

"When was that? You're so stubborn."

After fooling around in the bathroom and getting all sweaty, we walk out holding hands, taking advantage of the lack of people. Even though sweat was seeping from our palms as we held them together, I didn't want to let go.

"Remember, refuse Kimijima’s offer."

"I will."

"I mean it."

"Okay."

I repeat myself multiple times, making sure he understands. Michihiko says he has plans with Mori in the evening, so we part at the gate. Honestly, I wanted to stay with him longer, but I couldn't say it. I didn't want to risk being turned down.

"Did you have fun at the beach?"

"Huh?"

Michihiko tilts his head.

"You went with Ryota and the others, right?"

"Yeah, but let's go together next time."

He squeezes my hand tightly. Even though I wasn't excluded, I felt childish for being upset about not going with them.

"...Yeah."

"See you later."

Michihiko starts to walk away but stops and comes back after a few steps.

"I love you, Shinji."

His straightforward words leave no room for misunderstanding.

"So, you can claim all of me."

"What are you talking about?"

I hear his phone ring. When he takes it out, I notice it’s a different, white slide phone.

"Mori is at the dorm. I'm heading back."

Michihiko runs off. I watch until he disappears from my sight, standing in the middle of the path. The sun beats down, making my brain feel like it's swelling, packed with cotton. The air I breathe feels unusually humid, making it strangely difficult to breathe even when I take deep breaths.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

After an unusually hot September, October and November passed by with nothing changing except the calendar pages. Then, in the first week of December, I received a call from Kato.

"You're on duty with Mr. Soichi tomorrow."

It was the first call in almost three months. I thought I'd never be assigned to Mr. Soichi again, so I felt both surprised and delighted.

I rushed to the barbershop to get my hair trimmed and pulled out the suit and bag I had stored away in the closet. Staring at the briefcase, reinforced with steel plates, tears welled up as I realized Mr. Soichi's anger had finally subsided.

Since losing the assignment with Soichi, I had been working with Ryota on blackmail schemes. However, Meirin's health started deteriorating last month, and she couldn't work, which cut off our income. Just when I was looking for other ways to make money, someone from the organization asked if I could help with a job.

It involved intimidating customers at a store refusing to vacate its premises by walking around dressed like a yakuza. While it was pocket money, it didn't give me the sense of purpose I had when serving Soichi. It was simply harassment against civilians, and the thought of doing such meaningless work even ten years later depressed me.

On the day I was called, I arrived at the apartment fifteen minutes early because I was too restless to stay at home. Kato was in Soichi's private room and gave me a nod and a pat on the shoulder as I entered.

As I walked down the hallway and into the living room bathed in sunlight, I saw Soichi in a suit, holding a coffee cup and reading a newspaper on the table.

"Good morning," I said, bowing my head.

"Good morning," Soichi replied briefly.

On my first day back, I was so nervous that I hesitated to speak unless spoken to and remained silent. In the car, Soichi worked on his laptop or checked his phone, just as before.

After finishing a dinner meeting, it was past 10 PM. Soichi, who seemed tired, had dozed off in the back seat but woke up as we entered the underground parking lot.

As Soichi unlocked his apartment door, I said, "I'll take my leave now," bowing my head. I felt a sense of relief that the day had passed without incident.

"Do you have any plans tonight?" Soichi asked, his gaze on my lowered face.

"No," I replied.

"Then, would you join me for a drink?"

I was so surprised I left my mouth hanging open, prompting Soichi to chuckle.

"Do you want to go home early?"

"No, it's not that... I'm just not sure if it's okay for me to join you."

Soichi laughed again, amused. "I wouldn't invite you if I didn't want to. Come on."

Though familiar with the layout of his apartment, I followed Soichi like a shy cat. He fetched a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen. Feeling awkward about letting my boss serve me, I didn't know what to do and kept walking around the sofa.

"Sit down," he said with a laugh. Embarrassed, I sat in silence. Soichi skillfully uncorked the wine and poured it into the glasses.

I thanked him and took a sip. Compared to the beer I usually drank, it was rich and decadent. I didn’t particularly like it, but Soichi seemed pleased with it.

"I've decided to let Kimijima go," Soichi said abruptly, talking about the bald, overweight man.

"It'll be after we wrap up the work he started, but we should be done by the end of the year."

"Really?"

Soichi swirled his wine glass gently, the simple gesture appearing picturesque. His breath fogged the clear glass slightly.

"Since last year, our stock earnings have been lower than expected. The data showed no issues, but further investigation revealed that Kimijima had been selling the stocks prematurely. He was pretending to be an ordinary investor and manipulating the timing to sell his private stocks at peak prices. He made about fifty million yen¹ this way."

Using yakuza-managed stocks to inflate his own was reckless.

"I could have overlooked it if it was just once or twice, but it became a habit. He is a skilled trader but has sticky fingers and lies. I was harsh on you because I believed his lies."

Although I had been reinstated as a bodyguard, I wasn’t told anything specific, so I didn't know what was happening. Soichi’s mention of resolving the misunderstandings reassured me.

"Your friend is competent and hardworking. I was impressed."

"Friend? Do you mean Ryota?"

"No, Kanou."

I felt a jolt of surprise. Soichi continued to speak while looking slightly upwards.

"He accessed Kimijima's computer and found a lot of information. If he were a professional, Kimijima would have been more cautious, but he let his guard down for a student. He uncovered details about his private stock holdings and selling timings. He also discovered that Kimijima frequently visited Reika's blog."

Confused, I struggled to find words. I had told Ryo to stay away from Kimijima. So why... As I pondered, an uncomfortable truth dawned on me. Recently, Michihiko had been coming home late, claiming he was working as a delivery man and a tutor. Could it be...? I ruffled my hair in frustration.

"I don't understand why Michihiko got involved..."

"Didn't Kanou tell you? He's been assisting Kimijima."

As I stood up, my knee hit the table, spilling my wine. Soichi frowned, but I couldn’t care less.

"Why? I told him to stay away from this! He's just a student, a civilian. This isn't a world you can easily get dragged into."

Soichi watched me with an unreadable expression.

"You’re right. But he knew what Kimijima was doing and still chose to help."

I felt as if I had been struck, my strength draining away.

"That's crazy..."

"Initially, Kimijima refused professional assistants, sensing they were trying to uncover his schemes. He probably thought a student wouldn't be able to probe too deeply. Kanou did an excellent job."

"If you know Kimijima's in the wrong, then please let Michihiko go!"

I pleaded with Soichi.

"I like him."

"I don’t want him doing bad things."

"The more you care for him, the less I want to let him go."

I moved to the side of the table and kneeled in a deep bow.

"Please, spare Michihiko..."

"Raise your head," he said, sounding puzzled. Our eyes met.

"I don't understand why you’re so against this."

Despair filled me as I realized my pleas were not getting through to him.

"As I said, I don’t want him involved with the yakuza..."

"I’ll ensure he gets paid well and won’t do anything risky. He just needs to monitor the stock prices."

Images of Kimijima, sitting in that room and watching multiple monitors while snacking, flashed in my mind.

"That’s not normal."

"He's working and getting paid. It's capitalism."

"A job where he might get arrested isn’t normal."

Frustration mounted as I couldn't get my point across. Why couldn't Soichi understand that I didn't want to involve someone I cared about?

"Do you think what I’m doing isn't normal?" Soichi’s voice was quiet but firm.

"I..."

Unable to deny it, I fell silent. Soichi stood with his wine glass and walked to the window, overlooking the beautiful night view.

"Good and bad are not inherently separate. It’s just lines people draw for their convenience."

"That may be true, but..."

Words failed me. Soichi turned back, gauging my reaction.

"Do you deny what you're doing?"

I placed a hand on my chest.

"I'm fine with it. I dropped out of high school and became a yakuza. But..."

"Yamada," Soichi interrupted, sounding slightly exasperated. "Who is your boss?"

"Y-You, Mr. Soichi..."

"Good. Then that’s settled."

He smiled and finished the remaining wine in his glass.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

As soon as he saw Michihiko near the convenience store behind the university dorm, Yamada grabbed him by the collar and punched him. Michihiko crashed into a row of parked bicycles, making a loud clattering noise. Passersby flinched and hurried away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Yamada shouted.

Under the lights spilling from the convenience store window, Michihiko touched his split lip and frowned.

"I told you to refuse! Are you an idiot?"

Michihiko slowly got up and began setting the fallen bicycles back upright in silence. Ignoring Yamada completely, he methodically straightened the bikes. Enraged by Michihiko's indifference, Yamada stormed over, grabbed his shoulder, and spun him around.

"Say something! Make an excuse!"

Michihiko looked down, saying nothing.

"It makes no sense. You're smart; you should get it. Even if it’s just a part-time job, you can't stay uninvolved after knowing how the yakuza's money flows. You'll never be able to go back to being a civilian."

Yamada grabbed Michihiko's face roughly.

"Why won't you talk? Is your mouth just for show?"

Even after slapping and threatening him, Michihiko stayed silent like a clam.

"Say something!"

After kicking and roughing him up, Michihiko finally looked at him, exasperated.

"This has nothing to do with you, Shinji."

Yamada's jaw went slack.

"Nothing to do with me..."

Michihiko glared at Yamada.

"It has nothing to do with you. I made this decision."

"Made this decision? Are you planning to become a yakuza?"

"No."

"Working for Kimijima is the same as setting that path. Why the hell are you going to university? It's not to become a yakuza!"

"Hey," a voice called from behind. Turning around, Yamada saw a police officer on a bicycle, and he felt a jolt of fear.

"What are you boys doing out here at this hour?"

The middle-aged officer asked calmly.

"N-Nothing," Yamada said, his voice unnaturally high-pitched.

"I got a report about a fight in front of the store."

The officer got off his bike and looked closely at Michihiko's beaten face.

"You look pretty roughed up. Did this man do it?"

"Yes, but he's a friend..."

"Even if he's a friend, assault is still a crime."

"It's no big deal."

Michihiko wiped his mouth roughly and stared at Yamada.

"Goodbye, Shinji. I'm going back to the dorm."

He turned and started to walk away. Yamada made to follow him but stopped when Michihiko shouted, "Don't come any closer!"

"Our talk is over. I'm going to keep working for Kimijima... but not forever."

"Hey, Michihiko!"

The conversation wasn't over. As Yamada moved to follow, the officer stopped him.

"Wait a moment. Come with me to the station."

It was just a fight, but if they found out he was a yakuza, it would cause trouble. Yamada shook off the officer's arm and ran.

He escaped into a dark alley where the streetlights didn’t reach, avoiding the police officer. When he called Michihiko’s phone, his number had been blocked.

"That bastard!"

Yamada threw his phone onto the asphalt in frustration.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Since Kato was present that day, Yamada didn’t have to guard Soichi. Instead, he teamed up with Meirin, whose health had recovered, to run a honey trap. Charging 100,000 yen in one go was a bit excessive, but they were making up for lost time.

On the way back, Meirin clung to Ryota’s arm, whining, “I want to come with you.” Annoyed, Yamada shouted, “We have guy talk. Go home first,” and sent her away. She pouted and stuck out her tongue at him before turning around. Such a cheeky woman.

They walked under the row of lanterns hanging from the food stalls and entered their usual oden stall. It was past midnight, so Yamada thought it would be less crowded, but it was still quite busy. The owner remarked, “I guess everyone is busy because the year-end is coming.”

Eating oden soaked in broth and drinking sake warmed Yamada from the inside out.

“Hey, bro, you dropped something.”

Peering under his chair, Yamada saw a black pen. Soichi had given it to him last week. The previous day, he had lost his pen and bought a new one at a convenience store, which Soichi had noticed.

“That looks expensive.”

“You want it?”

Yamada offered it, but Ryota refused, “No, I don’t use pens much.”

In the past, Yamada would have felt troubled by Soichi’s gifts but also happy that Soichi cared about him. Now, receiving gifts felt burdensome. But if he didn’t use them, Soichi would definitely ask, “What happened to that thing I gave you?”

After the misunderstanding was cleared up, Soichi treated Yamada the same as before. He no longer had to take care of Kimijima and could focus solely on being Soichi’s bodyguard, which gave him more free time. Despite this relief, Yamada felt uneasy.

Soichi was a man worth dedicating his life to, possessing both the talent and the capacity for it. However, Yamada could no longer blindly admire and trust him as he did initially.

Yamada wasn’t bothered by the misunderstanding about him revealing Soichi’s fetishes to Kimijima. He just needed to be someone Soichi could trust, regardless of what others said. However, he couldn’t come to terms with Soichi’s involvement with Michihiko.

He had repeatedly asked Soichi to leave Michihiko out of it, so why did he get involved anyway? He had pleaded sincerely, so why didn’t Soichi understand? Soichi could easily decide to stop involving Michihiko, yet he didn’t. Despite being willing to risk his life for Soichi, Yamada couldn’t understand why this one request wasn’t granted.

"Swear loyalty and do everything I want."

Soichi’s words echoed in Yamada’s mind. He would give anything that was his, but not Michihiko. Michihiko wasn’t his possession to offer.

“Hey, bro, you said you had something to talk about,” Ryota reminded him.

Despite telling Meirin he had to talk with Ryota, Yamada remained silent, drinking his sake. He downed half his glass in one gulp.

“Nothing, really.”

Michihiko’s phone had been unreachable since Yamada punched him behind the convenience store. Every time he went to the apartment, the thought that Michihiko might be on the fourteenth floor made his chest feel tight. He had rung the doorbell several times, but Kimijima never opened the door if he knew it was Yamada.

He knew he could catch Michihiko by waiting at the Roppongi apartment entrance or at the university, but hearing “This has nothing to do with you, Shinji. I made this decision” again would make him want to hit Michihiko.

Letting Michihiko continue this was unacceptable. But Soichi had no intention of letting Michihiko quit, and asking him to stop would only sour his mood. Plus, Michihiko had decided on his own to start this job.

Yamada felt cornered, unable to come up with a solution no matter how hard he thought. Thinking about Michihiko made his head feel messy and irritated. He wished he could stop thinking altogether. Yamada muttered, “Damn it.”

“By the way, how’s Meirin?” Yamada asked.

Ryota looked back at him, “What do you mean?”

“Is she seeing a doctor?”

“She’s stabilized for now, so she should be fine for the next month or two.”

Yamada felt a sudden unease at the way Ryota set a time limit.

“Is something really wrong with her?”

“Didn’t Michihiko tell you?”

Hearing Michihiko’s name made Yamada’s temple throb painfully.

“No. Do you still talk to Michihiko?”

Ryota, chewing on a piece of oden, answered, “Sometimes we text or call. He called yesterday.”

Ryota could contact Michihiko, but Yamada got blocked. This pissed him off.

“I told Michihiko before I told you because I had the chance. Meirin is pregnant.”

Yamada dropped the piece of fishcake he was holding back onto his plate.

“Whose kid is it?”

Ryota looked hurt. “Come on, bro. That’s a bit harsh. It’s mine, of course.”

“Weren’t you using protection?”

Ryota scratched his head sheepishly. “We were, but I guess we got carried away when we went to the beach this summer. She’s four months along now. Her sickness was morning sickness. I only found out recently. I was shocked but also happy.”

Ryota’s eyes softened with happiness.

“Meirin wants to keep the baby. She’ll graduate from university next year, and the due date is in June. She can still graduate even with a baby bump.”

“I see.”

Though it wasn’t his own issue, Yamada started to feel anxious. He didn’t know what to do to help with a baby on the way. Ryota, trying to look determined, snorted.

“Since things turned out this way, I want to marry her. Do you think a foreigner can just fill out a marriage certificate and submit it to the city office?”

“I’ll ask someone in the group.”

Ryota’s face turned suspicious.

“Isn’t the group involved in buying and selling family registers and fake marriages? Will it be okay?”

Yamada smacked Ryota’s head.

“Idiot. You need to know the legal process to do it properly.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Anyway, congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Ryota said, looking shy and shrugging his shoulders.

“For now, we’re good, but Meirin can’t do honey traps once her belly starts showing. We’ve talked about it, and there’s a Chinese girl at school who wants to work part-time. What do you think?”

“I don’t care who does it.”

Ryota ordered another beer, his cheeks relaxed and happy. Seeing his contented face made Yamada’s mood sink.

“It’s a bit late to ask this, but didn’t you ever think Meirin shouldn’t do this job?”

Ryota turned back, giving a rueful smile.

“She’s not doing anything real with the guys. If things get bad, I’ll rush in and take care of it. Sure, it’s risky, but we manage, right?”

They took responsibility for their honey traps. Even if they got caught, it would just be a run-in with the police. Yamada rested his chin in his hand, staring at the fishcake on his plate.

“Michihiko started working for Soichi’s trader.”

Ryota stayed silent. Yamada turned to him.

“You knew?”

“Well… sort of. Sorry.”

Yamada clicked his tongue and ordered more sake.

“I told him to stop. But he started without telling me. He doesn’t want to be a yakuza, so why is he doing this? He won’t answer me.”

“Yeah…” Ryota muttered.

“When I got angry and hit him, he blocked my calls and emails. I don’t know what he’s thinking.” Yamada gulped down the sake that was served for a second round and roughly placed the empty glass on the table. “He’s smart, so he should just do a normal job. Sure, the part-time job might pay more, but that’s only temporary.”

Ryota, who had been sipping his beer, opened his mouth to say, “He… asked me for advice.”

“Advice?”

Ryota nodded. "It seems Michan was invited to work for the yakuza. Apparently, he initially refused because you advised against it. But when Michan declined, they said it would reflect poorly on your position within the group, so Michan was troubled and came to me for advice on what to do. I told him that if you don’t approve, it's probably best to quit. Michan agreed to listen at first, but now he's started and says he'll quit as soon as the time is right..."

"What's with that?" Yamada's hand trembled as he placed it on the table. Ryota seemed to comfort him, saying something like, "In the end, it was Michan's decision."

"What the hell?"

Yamada glared at a piece of fishcake in his plate, looking like a decomposed corpse. He clenched his teeth hard. "Hey, give me your phone."

"Huh? Don't you have your own?"

"Mine can't get through to Michihiko because he blocked me, remember?"

Yamada snatched the phone from Ryota and left the stall under the overpass, where conversations kept getting interrupted by passing trains. He managed to get through on the fifth ring with Ryota's phone.

"What are you thinking?"

The silence was breath-taking, prompting Yamada to quickly add, "Don't hang up."

"Why are you calling from Ryota's phone?"

"Because you won't answer mine."

"You're angry."

"Of course, I am!" Every time Yamada shouted, passersby glanced back at him. He avoided the main street and walked into a dim alley. "Quit that part-time job right now. Forget about me... just quit."

Michihiko sighed. "I heard from Ryota. I'll quit soon."

"You're dealing with yakuza; it's not that easy."

Another silence followed. "I told you not to do it. Why did you ask Ryota for advice but not me? My position in the gang won't change just because a student like you refused a part-time job."

"Say something!" Yamada shouted into the silence.

"I wanted to see Mr. Soichi."

"What?"

"You praised him so much, so I wanted to know what kind of person he was. He's cool, and really charming. But he's a pervert, isn't he? Kimijima said he liked being fucked in the ass. Did you join in too?

Yamada felt a chill at Michihiko's disgusting, sticky tone. "What are you talking about?"

"Because if you were ordered to do it, you'd have to obey, right?"

"When did I ever tell you I did it with Mr. Soichi?"

"You always received expensive gifts from him like brand briefcases and shoes... like a mistress. I hated it." Michihiko's voice trembled as if he was about to cry.

"Mr. Soichi would never do that with me! He needs a woman with a strap-on to satisfy him!"

After a short silence, Michihiko asked, "What's a strap-on?"

"It's a belt with a dildo attached. He likes being penetrated by women with it."

"Then, wouldn't a man be fine too?"

"How should I know? That's just what he likes."

"That's weird." Michihiko grumbled.

"It might be weird, but that's how it is. You just don't know there are all sorts of preferences."

"So, you didn't do it?"

"Of course not, you idiot."

This absurd and pointless argument about who did what to whom drained Yamada. He squatted in the alley, feeling dizzy from the sake. "Just quit already."

After a long silence, Michihiko finally replied, "Even if I quit, there's a right time for it. I'm only tracking the money flow. I haven't done anything illegal, and I don't intend to. I'll be fine."

"No, the longer you stay involved, the more you learn things you shouldn't. It makes it harder to leave. If I say I'm watching you to make sure you don't spill anything, they might let you go now. So, just quit."

Michihiko stayed silent for a while.

"Got it?"

Yamada pressed him, and Michihiko finally replied, "Yes."

◇:*:◆:*:◇

"Wait a minute."

In the entrance, the hem of Soichi's long coat fluttered as Yamada walked around him like a dog. Since all the elevators were already on their way up, Soichi finally stopped walking.

"I'll make Michihiko promise. He won't spill anything he hears or sees during his part-time job. I guarantee it..."

Soichi finally turned around and sighed, "You're annoying."

"I thought we were done with this conversation."

The first meeting had been delayed due to the other party's circumstances, leading to a packed schedule. As they prepared to leave, Soichi showed signs of fatigue. Yamada had noticed but couldn't stop himself from bringing it up. He wanted to separate Michihiko from the gang as soon as possible.

"I want him to stay a civilian. Please, I'm begging you. I'll do anything for you, Mr. Soichi, anything..."

"Why are you making such a fuss on your own?"

Turning around, Kato was approaching. Yamada had thought he would be staying at the antique shop today.

"Uh, well..."

Before Yamada could explain, the elevator doors opened. Soichi got in, followed by Yamada and Kato.

"I wanted to ask Mr. Soichi about Michihiko... I mean, Kanou."

Kato squinted and nodded. "Oh, that smart kid? He's got brains and guts; your acquaintance might turn out well."

That wasn't the kind of compliment Yamada wanted.

"I want him to quit. That's what I was asking Mr. Soichi about..."

"That's..." Kato hesitated, and Soichi immediately said, "Give it up."

"We can't let someone who knows the flow of money quit."

No matter what Yamada said, Soichi's answer was always the same: "No."

"I'll make sure he never talks. I'll watch over him for the rest of my life. If he ever spills anything, I'll die for it."

In the ascending elevator, Yamada's voice echoed and faded. Soichi looked up at the elevator floor buttons, his expression unchanged, as if Yamada's pleas were nothing but a dog's distant barking.

"Mr. Soichi, why don't you let that university student go?"

Kato, who had been silently watching, spoke up. An unexpected ally, a friend appearing from nowhere, made Yamada's heart race.

"Yamada is saying this too, and if that kid doesn't want to stay, it's only a matter of time before he leaves. It's better to let him go before he knows too much."

Yamada nodded vigorously.

"A small hole can cause a big tear."

"But if he leaves after he's grown, it'll be a bigger problem."

"He might not leave."

Nothing could sway him. Yamada looked down, thinking even Kato couldn't help.

"Mr. Soichi, do you plan to keep Yamada as your subordinate forever?"

Soichi looked puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"If you want to keep Yamada around, I think it's better to let Kanou go."

"I don't understand."

Soichi shrugged. At that moment, Yamada's phone rang. It was Ryota. Not now, he thought, switching to vibrate. But the phone kept ringing.

"It's not yours?" Soichi pointed out, and Yamada reluctantly answered.

"What do you want!"

As Yamada yelled at Ryota, the elevator reached the 23rd floor. Soichi stepped out first. Once inside the room, the conversation would end. Still on the phone, Yamada followed Soichi.

"A friend of Ryota's?"

A raspy voice he didn't recognize came from the other end.

"Who are you?"

The raspy voice yelled, "How do you plan to settle this? You set up shop in our territory!"

At that moment, the worst-case scenario played out in Yamada's mind. He kept his cool.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Who the hell are you?"

"Don't play dumb. Do you want your friends killed?"

Yamada's hand holding the phone trembled. He heard the voice move away and someone say, "Bring him here."

"Say something!"

There was a thud.

"Big brother..."

The voice from the phone sent chills down Yamada's spine. Despite hanging out for years, he'd never heard Ryota's voice so strained.

"I'm sorry. Big brother... I messed up..."

"Ryota, are you okay!"

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sor..."

His apologetic voice faded like an echo.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Yamada was summoned by members of the Maruyama group to a warehouse that doubled as a storage yard for a construction company near a large river. He was told to enter through the A3 entrance and cautiously stepped inside. The interior was enormous, about half the size of a small baseball stadium, with piles of five-meter-long timber lining both sides, covered in dust.

Though there were lights, it was dim. As Yamada looked around, thinking no one was there, he noticed something in the middle of the warehouse. Someone was lying face down. Although he couldn't see the face, the familiar tracksuit gave it away.

"Ryota!"

He didn't move even when Yamada called his name. Looking closer, Yamada saw red stains scattered around Ryota. As he started to run over, a voice stopped him.

"That's far enough."

A group of people emerged from behind the stacked timber. There were six of them. Five were dressed in easy-to-move-in outfits like tracksuits and trainers, but the man on the far right, in his forties, wore a suit and a black coat. It was clear who the boss was.

Glaring at the six men, Yamada clenched his fists tightly.

"What did you do to Ryota?"

"That's our line. You dared to mess with our turf!"

The youngest-looking man with a buzz cut stepped forward from the group of five. Seeing his face, Yamada let out a surprised "Ah." It was Saotome from the Motohashi group. He didn't recognize him at first because he no longer had his trademark blonde hair and yellow tracksuit.

Saotome had been punished by having his left pinky finger cut off for stealing drugs. He had stayed away from the office for a while. Yamada heard from Okano that he had been expelled earlier this year.

It’s generally forbidden for other groups to take in expelled members. To prevent this, expulsion notices with photos are sent to all group offices. However, it's common for someone expelled from one group to join another the following year.

When their eyes met, Saotome smiled with his gap-filled teeth. "Long time no see."

"I heard you’re now following that Motohashi kid. I will never forgive him. I’ll kill him, chop him up, and sink him in Tokyo Bay before I die."

Yamada stared back silently at Saotome. His heart pounded; he was not good in a fight. He had a knife hidden in his suit pocket, but that was his only ally. If the opponents had guns, it would be over.

"Don’t get so worked up."

The man in the suit stepped forward.

"Let’s handle this peacefully. We don’t really want to cause trouble with the Motohashi group. As long as you make amends properly, we’ll let it slide."

When the man said "cigarette," one of the fighters hurried over to hand him one and lit it. Smoke drifted lazily upward.

When Yamada learned that Ryota had been caught doing a honey trap in Maruyama group territory, he immediately consulted Soichi. It was a situation where Ryota could get killed. Soichi, being smart, might know how to rescue him.

After Yamada desperately explained the situation, Soichi asked in a dry voice, "Why tell me?"

"Uh, well..."

"Knowing the situation, there's nothing I can do."

With that, Soichi left. The door clicked shut in front of Yamada, leaving him stunned. Soichi, the group’s treasurer, wasn’t involved in negotiating turf disputes. Still, Ryota was Yamada's subordinate and had also worked under Kimijima, so he knew Soichi. Being abandoned felt hollow. The group was supposed to be a pseudo-family, helping each other out in times of need. But they were cold, so cold.

Seeing Yamada's despair, Kato whispered, "Talk to Okano." Yamada immediately contacted him. Okano was surprised and muttered, "Damn."

"If they just beat him up and let him go, that’d be fine. But if they’re calling us out, they probably want to extort money."

Yamada felt the same suspicion.

"But we can’t leave it alone. I’ll go with you..."

While talking, another call came in. It was from someone in Maruyama group, telling Yamada to come alone to pick up Ryota.

Usually, higher-ups handle financial negotiations to facilitate communication. That’s why Okano offered to come. A solo request for a low-ranking member was unusual. Their intent was unclear.

Okano suggested, "Bring some guys for safety," but Yamada went alone, following their demand. He was willing to take the beating if it settled things. More importantly, he feared Ryota might face worse torture if they took too long.

The middle-aged man in the black coat took a couple of puffs on his cigarette. The smoke swirled in the drafty warehouse.

"Your name’s Yamada, right? You’re the bodyguard for Motohashi group’s treasurer."

The treasurer... Soichi.

"So what?"

The man squinted, almost smiling.

"The treasurer holds shares in Yobo Corporation, right?"

At first, Yamada didn’t understand. As he repeated "Yobo Corporation" in his head, he remembered hearing Kimijima and Soichi arguing about when to sell Yobo Corporation shares.

"It’s useless to feign ignorance. We’ve done our research. Your treasurer not only set this up but also tried to profit from our speculative stocks. He’s got some nerve."

The man blew out a puff of smoke.

"If you want the guy lying there back, hand over the Yobo Corporation shares your treasurer holds. We’ll call it even."

He crushed the cigarette under his heel, smiling as it crumbled.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW, violence.

1. Around $309,935.00 USD.

Previous TOC Next