Smiling at the Moon: Volume 1 - Chapter 2 - part 2

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

In the morning, customers came sporadically. I thought this year might not be so good, but in the afternoon, the crowds picked up, and suddenly we were busy. On a sunny day, ice cream and shaved ice sell well, but takoyaki typically sells better in the evening. This year, it was flying off the grill even during the day.

Two of us couldn't keep up with grilling and handling payments. I contacted Ryota, and since the lottery booth was slow, I had Mori come over to help. Yamada and Michihiko handled the grilling while Mori took care of the payments, making it a three-person operation.

"Shinji, that batch isn't done yet. Wait another minute."

A sharp voice called me out, and I quickly returned the takoyaki to the griddle. Before I knew it, Michihiko had become the takoyaki master.

Though Mori said it was his first time doing a part-time job, he handled the money smoothly and was good at bagging the orders. He wasn't just any ordinary kid. When I asked about it, he said his father used to run a street stall, and he had helped out a few times.

The takoyaki griddle was hot, and sweat dripped down constantly while facing it. No matter how much I wiped, it was never enough. Around three o'clock, when the offering dance at the shrine began, the crowd thinned out.

After making a few batches of takoyaki, I sat back in the folding chair.

"This year has been amazing." Michihiko's fair-skinned face was red, either from the heat of the griddle or from the sun.

"Yeah, it is." I couldn't talk; my own face was burning hot. I gulped down a cola, but it didn't help. Slouched in the chair, I looked up and closed my eyes. I heard the cute chatter of girls and opened my eyes.

Two girls in pink and red yukatas were glancing our way. Thinking I still had it, I smirked back, but they didn't react much. I realized they weren't looking at me but at Michihiko.

He's slim but tall, and not bad-looking. He used to be cute, but now he had a mix of boyish charm and masculine handsomeness. He was clearly better looking than Ryota and about my equal.

Feeling annoyed, I glared at the two girls until they left.

"If you make such a scary face, customers won't come near."

Startled by the voice, I jumped up from my chair. The boss in a yukata was standing in front of the stall.

"Oh, boss. What brings you here?"

I rushed over. The boss, amused by my flustered reaction, smiled.

"I came to see if you guys were doing things properly."

"Well, um… we're working seriously."

Even though we'd been working hard, having him come during a break made it look unconvincing. Scratching my head awkwardly, the boss laughed.

"I thought I'd bring my granddaughter to the festival."

Peeking around, I saw a tiny girl of about two or three in a floral yukata holding his hand.

"Grandpa, I want some."

The girl pointed at the takoyaki. The boss's eyes softened immediately.

"Oh, do you? Yamada, one order…"

He reached for his wallet, but I stopped him in a hurry.

"No way, boss. I can't take your money."

I nudged Mori to prepare an order and handed it to the boss. "Thanks, I'll take it," he said and walked off briskly with his granddaughter towards the main shrine. Even in his old age, he wore his yukata with style. I want to age like that.

The boss seemed in a particularly good mood today. Since Suda and the others left, he'd been down, so I was relieved. If other yakuza knew our gang was just three people, they'd laugh, but we had our place, and without the unreasonable second-in-command boss, things were better.

"I'm going to check on the lottery booth."

Mori called out.

"Hmm?"

"He might need a break too."

"Good idea, thanks."

Mori nodded and left the stall. He was young but capable. Having an apprentice like that would be nice. As I thought about it, Michihiko came closer.

"The old man who was here earlier, was he the yakuza boss?"

I lightly tapped Michihiko's head.

"Don't talk so loud."

Michihiko held the back of his head and whispered, "He didn't seem that scary."

"The boss is mild-mannered."

"Hmm," Michihiko snorted, resting his chin on Yamada's shoulder. He started doing this sometimes after he grew taller.

"Get off, it's hot."

When Yamada shoved him away irritably, Michihiko pouted, looking sulky.

"By the way, Ryota calls you 'Wakagashira,' right? I'm not very familiar, but doesn't that mean you’re the second-in-command?"

"Yeah," Yamada responded, puffing out his chest. "I guess this is also a matter of skill."

He kept the details vague. Michihiko looked impressed, which felt satisfying.

"Does anything change when you become a Wakagashira?"

"Not really. Our group is small."

Michihiko stared intently.

"What?"

Just as Yamada was about to say that even with a higher position, his face wouldn't change, Michihiko muttered, "You have sauce on your face."

Yamada hastily wiped his mouth, but Michihiko reached out, touched his forehead, and said, "It's on your forehead."

Then Michihiko licked the sauce off his finger. The simple gesture seemed incredibly erotic, sending a shiver down Yamada's spine.

Just as he was scratching his head, wondering if it was because he hadn't been with a woman lately, a customer called out, "Excuse me." It seemed the ceremonial dance at the shrine had ended, and things got busy again. Mori returned, and the three of them sold takoyaki non-stop until around 10 PM when the festival wound down.

By the time the festival ended, they were all exhausted, like wrung-out rags. Even the thousand-yen bills stuffed carelessly into a cardboard box felt like mere paper scraps. After a short break, they hurriedly began dismantling the tent as the surrounding area started to pack up.

Though they dismantled the stall, the path where they could load the car was one-way, directed out from the shrine to avoid chaos. The road was narrowed by other people loading their stuff, causing a traffic jam. Since Yamada was the only one with a proper driver's license, he got in the truck and joined the line. Just looking at the cars snaking ahead made him feel nauseated.

"This is worse than a traffic jam on the highway."

Even after ten minutes, the cars had barely moved ten meters.

"It's like a cow's pace," Michihiko, who had followed me for some reason, mumbled in the passenger seat, even though he should have waited by the tent. The truck had the air conditioning on full blast, so that might be what he was after.

"Cow's pace? What's that?"

After a pause, Michihiko explained, "It means moving slowly like a cow."

"Cow's pace, huh?"

Yamada glanced at his watch, a battered old diver's watch someone in the group had given him because it was too damaged to sell.

"If I drop you guys off, it might be past midnight."

"It's okay. I left the room unlocked."

"Fine, then."

Yamada instinctively reached for his chest pocket for a cigarette, remembering too late that he'd finished his last one earlier. The craving hit hard because he couldn't have one.

"Hey, Michihiko."

"Um..."

Their voices overlapped. Michihiko conceded, "You go first, Shinji."

But since it was just an errand, Yamada insisted, "No, you go ahead."

"Can I stay over at your place tonight?"

Michihiko fidgeted with his knees together, back hunched.

"Mori's here too, so just go back to the dorm."

When there was no response, Yamada knew what was coming. Sure enough, Michihiko pleaded, "Is it really not possible?"

"You can stay over another time. Why come to my place tonight when I'm already dropping you off? And I have to go to the boss's place in the morning, so there's no time."

Michihiko's silence signaled his reluctance, frustrating Yamada.

"I said no," he snapped.

Startled, Michihiko finally agreed, "Okay." Since they'd likely just go straight to bed tonight and Yamada had to visit the office tomorrow, leaving Michihiko at the apartment alone seemed pointless. Better to send him back.

"You can stay over next time. It's not like it has to be tonight."

More silence. Though endearing when affectionate, Michihiko's clingy, brooding side from being bullied annoyed Yamada. Ryota was the complete opposite.

A honk blared from the car behind them. They'd fallen ten meters behind the next car while talking.

"Shut up, idiot!" Yamada yelled inside the truck, creeping forward.

"You too, don't sulk like a girl!"

He added, and heard Michihiko's faint voice, "I'm pent up."

"What?"

"I've been pent up."

So blunt it was almost comical. Yamada smirked. He didn't dislike it.

"If you're pent up, just take care of it yourself."

He dismissed it deliberately.

"I can't, not in my room."

Michihiko, blushing to his ears, clenched his hands on his lap.

"Then let Mori hear those lewd sounds."

"No way. That's embarrassing."

"You let me hear it."

"Because you're... well, you're Shinji, so it's okay. And it feels good together."

"Of course, someone else's hand feels better. But I can't always be around to help you out."

Yamada spat out, facing forward. The car moved again but barely a meter. Their tent still felt miles away. Glancing at the horny kid beside him, Yamada saw Michihiko's disappointed, almost tearful face.

"Alright, whip it out."

Michihiko looked shocked.

"What... whip it out?"

"I'm bored. I'll help you out here. Whip it out."

Yamada motioned with his left hand.

"But someone might see from outside."

"Just throw a towel or something over it and quickly pull your dick out. Hurry up."

When rushed, Michihiko glanced around nervously like a suspicious cat. Since he showed no sign of pulling it out, I thought he might give up. But then, he draped the towel that had been around his neck over his crotch. The sound of a zipper being lowered could be heard.

"I... I pulled it out."

Eyes full of anticipation, like a woman's. Yamada chuckled softly through his nose.

"Show me if you really pulled your dick out."

"I did pull it out."

Michihiko retorted defensively.

"How would I know unless I see it?"

Michihiko bit his lip tightly and lifted the edge of the towel a little. There it was, indeed pulled out like he was about to take a leak, hanging awkwardly.

"Hey, come closer."

Michihiko shifted his hips awkwardly. Yamada carelessly slipped his left hand under the towel and grabbed it.

"Ah, that hurts!"

Michihiko's hips shivered. As he loosened his grip slightly and started moving gently, it quickly filled with a vivid, throbbing heat between his fingers.

"You're quick, aren't you? You really like doing it in the car, huh?"

"No, I don't!"

"But you're already hard. And I barely even touched you."

When Yamada rubbed the slit at the tip, Michihiko moaned and arched his back. He squeezed the base, traced the shaft, and just when it had grown to a good size, he suddenly let go.

"Huh?"

Michihiko, who had been suddenly thrown off, cried out softly. Yamada wiped his fingers, smeared with pre-cum, on the edge of a towel. As there was a gap between his car and the one in front, he closed the distance, placed both hands on the steering wheel, and started humming a tune.

"Shinji, continue..."

At the faint plea, Yamada turned around with an annoyed expression and said, "What is it?" The towel covering the crotch of the horny boy was unnaturally pitched like a tent, which was laughably stupid.

"Nobody said I'd do it till the end. Finish it yourself."

"No, that's not..."

The cars ahead seemed to be clearing out, and the car in front moved forward a bit.

"Hurry up, or we'll get there already."

When rushed, Michihiko, with a face on the verge of tears, slipped his hands into the towel. He closed his eyes and panted for a while, then suddenly went quiet and shivered slightly. The unique, pungent smell filled the confined space of the car. After some fidgeting with the towel, he dropped the soiled towel at his feet.

"It reeks."

Yamada exaggeratedly wrinkled his nose.

"Your semen stinks."

Yamada rolled down the side window roughly.

"It reeks. It's because there's a guy jerking off in the car."

"Y-you're being too loud! Besides, Shinji, you're the one who told me to do it."

Michihiko clung to my left arm. Seeing his panicked face, I felt an overwhelming urge to tease him, even though I’m not a sadist.

"It's because you said you wanted to jerk off, you pervert."

Michihiko bit his lip and glared at me, but then he abruptly said, "I'm going home," and jumped out of the passenger seat.

"Hey! Wait!"

Even though I called out to him, he didn't turn back. Since I was driving, I couldn't chase after him. I realized I had teased him too much, but it was too late.

I told myself to let it go. He left on his own. If he tried to walk back up the mountain, he'd be out until dawn, but that wasn't my problem.

The traffic was still moving slowly. I turned on the car radio, but the static annoyed me, so I quickly turned it off. Yamada banged on the steering wheel. The crawling speed of the car in front made him feel murderous.

Even though that horny jerk-off kept things interesting, he might be crying now. That guy could really cry, tears spilling from his eyes in big drops. After some hesitation, I took out my cell phone. Michihiko didn’t answer.

With no other option, I called Ryota and told him to come to the car.

"What’s up all of a sudden?"

"You drive."

I got out of the car and nodded toward the driver's seat. But Ryota hesitated.

"But... didn’t we agree that you should drive today because the police are out?"

"Idiot!" I yelled, hitting Ryota on the head.

"Just until I load the stuff. If I'm not back, wait behind the shrine."

"W-what happened?"

Ignoring him, I ran after Michihiko. Leaving the shrine grounds and reaching the road, I saw a cotton candy vendor packing up.

"Give me one," I said, taking out my wallet. The middle-aged man handed it over expressionlessly.

"It's okay, just take it."

The sun had gone down, but the humidity persisted, and sweat beaded on my forehead just from walking. I was taking the shortest route up the mountain, but I started to feel anxious. Maybe Michihiko hadn't passed through here after all.

I stopped and called his phone again. After calling over and over again, it finally went through.

"Answer me already!".

I yelled, when the phone finally connected, but then he quickly hung up. I resisted the urge to throw my phone on the ground and called again. This time, he answered on the third ring.

"Where are you now?" I asked, suppressing my anger with a lot of effort. "I don't want to say," came the sulky reply. This guy isn't cute... I thought, using a gentle tone as much as possible. "There's no way you can walk back from up on that mountain. Come back, okay?"

"I don't want to," came the response. Annoyed, but knowing that if the call was hung up, it would be over, so I put up with it. "I'm sorry about earlier... I was at fault. Come on out," I said.

"Yeah, you were! I didn't want to do anything in the car!"

"I know, I told you to do it. It was all my fault. Come out, let's go back together. And there's cotton candy too. You like sweet things, right?" I tried to coax.

The phone was silent.

"Be a good boy, okay? Tell me where you are. Let’s go back together."

After a long silence, I heard, "Across the street." I turned and saw Michihiko with his phone pressed to his ear across the two-lane road.

"Damn it!"

Taking advantage of no cars coming, I crossed the road. Then Michihiko ran off.

"Stop, or I'll kill you!"

I went back the way I came and chased him along the embankment. I gained on him as the path became more open. Michihiko changed direction and went down the steps to the riverbank. I leaped down the stairs, catching up with him at the bottom. I grabbed Michihiko's arm and he stopped obediently.

"D-don't run away, you idiot!" I panted.

Breathing heavily, Michihiko said bluntly, "You didn’t have to chase me."

His words made my head feel hot, and I reflexively hit him on the head. He kicked me back, and I grabbed his collar. As I stepped forward, I didn't notice that there was a low step behind him, I stumbled and we collapsed in the grass, still tangled up. Michihiko, who had become Yamada's cushion, cried out, "Ouch!".

"Ah, sorry, sorry."

When I tried to get up, I felt something hit my back. I thought someone had bumped into me, but it wasn’t it. Pitter-patter, the sound of rain around us.

"Damn, it started raining."

People along the riverbank rushed up the stairs. Michihiko pulled me to a sheltered spot under the stairs. We sat down. It was dark, but some light from the streetlamps spilled over the riverbank, making it dimly lit. In the grass, I saw the pink cotton candy. I stepped out into the rain, grabbed the bag, and came back.

"Here."

I handed it to Michihiko.

"It’s yours. The shopkeeper said it’s delicious."

I lied impulsively. Michihiko held the bag for a while. When I asked if he wasn’t going to eat it, he opened it and bit into the cotton candy on a stick.

"...It’s sweet."

“If cotton candy isn’t sweet, the business is done for.”

Michihiko munched on the cotton candy. He was eating with such gusto that it looked genuinely delicious. Even though I knew it was sweet, I said, "Let me try," and bit the edge. The soft, foam-like texture melted instantly, leaving a lump of sugar on my tongue. I spat it out involuntarily.

“How can you eat this stuff?”

“Didn’t you give it to me?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

Talking, I took out a cigarette, but the pack was empty. I’d forgotten I was out. Clicking my tongue, I tossed the empty box into the rain.

“Want some cotton candy?”

“No way.”

“Aren't you bored?”

“No, it’s just the sweetness in my mouth is a bit much.”

Yamada leaned forward and extended his right hand. He cupped it slightly to catch the rain. Once a little had gathered in the hollow, he brought it to his mouth. It was a futile effort.

“Rainwater is dirty,” came a voice from beside me. “It’s dirty because it’s mixed with dust and pollutants in the air.”

“You’re so damn annoying.” With my wet hand, I grabbed his cheeky face.

“Now your face is polluted too. Serves you right.”

Michihiko grabbed my wrist with both hands and pulled it away from his face. The half-eaten cotton candy fell to the ground. When I tried to pull my hand away, he held it firmly. Michihiko brought his face close to my hand, sniffed it, and then licked my palm. The warm, wet sensation made me gulp.

“What are you doing?”

Michihiko licked my palm again. I roughly grabbed his jaw and pulled him close. We locked eyes for a moment before he, like a dog, sniffed and licked my lips.

I kissed him hard. I slipped my tongue into his half-open mouth and moved it around. The inside of his mouth tasted sweet. This wasn't even enough to wash it down.

Michihiko was making sniffling noises. Eventually, the sweetness disappeared, and I became engrossed in our tongues intertwining.

“…Hey, take out your dick.”

I ordered, and in the dim light, I saw Michihiko fumbling with his crotch. I took out my own dick too. It was half-erect, probably from the kiss.

“Touch mine and I’ll touch yours too.”

Michihiko nodded and moved closer. In the dark, he found my zipper, pulled it down, and took out my member. When I grabbed his, it quickly grew hard. He had just come earlier, but it was already hard again—a real horny guy.

“Don’t just make yourself feel good, touch mine too.”

Prompted, he finally touched me. He wasn’t very good at it, but maybe because we were outside, it felt thirty percent better than usual.

“Kiss me while you stroke.”

Michihiko straddled my thigh and kissed me. The mix of sweat and his young, masculine scent filled my nose. Our tongues entwined, making lewd, squelching sounds.

I wrapped an arm around his back and pulled his pants down. Since he was straddling me, his legs were spread. I quickly found the small hole in his crack. When I touched the deeper part, his body gave a small shudder.

"Can I put my finger in?" I gently stroked around the tight entrance.

"It... it won't hurt, right?" His fearful voice was adorable.

"I'll make sure it doesn't hurt. I'm a pro at this."

Michihiko nodded slightly. I played with his dick to make him come, then smeared the semen on the back, took a condom from my wallet, and pressed my index finger against the tight entrance.

"No, I don't want it!"

There was resistance at the entrance, but once past it, there was none.

"One finger shouldn't hurt." I said as I searched and rubbed around the prostate area. It was the same as when it was done to me, so I kind of knew how it was done.

"Aah." Michihiko flinched with a jerk.

"Is this your sensitive spot?"

He rubbed it with the pad of his finger, making Michihiko cry out "ah, ah," while trembling on his lap. That voice was pleasing, so he focused on that same spot. Michihiko's hips began to shake violently, and he clung tightly to Yamada.

"Tch, I can't put any strength into it."

"Don't give up just because your ass got played with."

"Kiss me more, a lot more."

Michihiko pleaded while trembling.

"You're really hopeless."

His own voice was also getting shaky. He kissed him ravenously and roughly stirred with his index finger. Michihiko let out a small scream and clung to him. It felt more like having sex than just fooling around. He was overwhelmed by the urge to thrust into that hole. He wanted to stick it into that warm, slippery place and rub against it, to make him moan.

"Hey, if you cling too much, I'll fuck your ass."

"...okay."

Michihiko buried his face in Yamada's neck, as if to pamper him.

"It's fine if it's you."

His voice made his crotch feel hotter. Yamada took his fingers out and took out a new condom from his wallet. He put it on his dick, which was already hard. He then spread Michihiko's legs and picked up his hips.

The moment the tip of the condom touched his loosened entrance, Yamada's phone started to buzz and he cried out, "Waaahhh." ...The call was from Ryota.

"Boss, where are you?"

"W-w-where doesn't matter."

His voice was high-pitched from being so agitated.

"I've loaded my luggage, so I'm already behind the shrine. If it takes you a while, I was thinking of taking Mori back to the dorms."

"Don't do that. There are a lot of patrols out today."

"But I don't have anything else to do. So, boss, what are you doing right now?'

There's no way he could tell Ryota that he was about to thrust right into Michihiko's ass.

"Nothing really..."

"If you're done, I'll come and pick you up there. If it's nearby, I can just drive there. Where is it?"

"The riverbank across the street..."

"I understand."

"After putting his cell phone back in his back pocket, Yamada stroked his half-flaccid dick through the condom while Michihiko stared intently at his crotch.

"You should hurry up and finish. Ryota will be here to pick us up soon."

Michihiko nodded silently and got off Yamada's lap, starting to jerk himself off. Although they had been extremely horny just moments ago, masturbating side by side felt rather empty.

As Yamada reached his climax and put his dick away, amidst the sound of rain, they heard honking.

"Hey, Ryota's here."

Turning around, Yamada saw Michihiko still squatting and jerking off.

"Come on, hurry up."

"But I can't just suddenly..."

"Even if you can't, do it!"

The horn honked repeatedly. Yamada roughly grabbed Michihiko's lingering hand, ignoring his protests of pain as he rubbed vigorously. Then, he kissed Michihiko's face on the verge of tears and Michihiko exploded in climax.

"Put your dick away and come with me."

While Michihiko zipped up his jeans, Yamada emerged from under the stairs and rushed outside. The rain was heavy, forcing them to run. It was all in vain, as they were completely soaked when they climbed into the mini truck.

Since the truck had only two seats, Mori sat in the passenger seat. Ryota and the wet Michihiko covered themselves with a vinyl sheet in the bed of the truck.

"Where were you and Michihiko going?" Mori asked, and Yamada casually replied, "Just taking a walk."

He drove the two to the dormitory on the mountain. As they parted ways, Michihiko had a pitiful look on his face, like an abandoned dog.

On the way back, Ryota sat in the passenger seat.

"Sure was lucky it didn't rain during the festival, huh?"

The wipers hurriedly cleared away the pounding rain.

"Yeah, I guess."

"But seriously, boss, it's pretty harsh disappearing with Michan at such a crucial time. Even loading stuff into the car, it was just me and Morichi doing it. It's fine for me as a junior, but Morichi seemed a bit pitiful."

Realizing they'd become friendly enough for Ryota to call him "Morichi" at some point, Yamada gave a nonchalant response, "Yeah, I guess so.".

While gazing at the blurred taillights of the car in front, Yamada let Ryota's complaints wash over him. Eventually, Ryota noticed he was just making noncommittal noises and fell silent.

They returned to the riverside near the shrine. If Ryota hadn't called at that moment, Yamada would have made a move on Michihiko. Despite his masculine appearance, he was tempted to do it. Back in the day... when he was still shorter than himself and had a girlish face, Yamada had thought about it, but recently, he hadn't felt that way. Homosexuals were disgusting. It was fine to masturbate, but doing it with another guy was different. Women had breasts and were soft. If you approached them, there were plenty who would go with you. There was no point in doing it with a guy who had the same thing down there.

Yet, Yamada wanted to do it with Michihiko. The limit he could accept was using his ass like an extension of masturbation, strictly as a substitute for a woman. But was Michihiko the same as him? Was he able to separate it as just a physical thing?

"Hey, do you think Michihiko likes me?"

"Well, doesn't he? You can't become buddies if you don't get along."

Ryota responded easily. Yamada meant it in the sense of being gay, but he couldn't correct himself. Even among fellow members during his incarceration, there were homosexuals. One of them was an older guy, not someone Yamada particularly liked or disliked, but upon finding out he was gay, Yamada felt a surge of disgust. No matter how much the guy acted like an older brother, deep down, Yamada sneered, "This damn gay guy."

But even if Michihiko felt that way about him, Yamada couldn't say, "This damn gay guy." He knew the reason. With the gay older guy, it was fine whether he liked or disliked him, but Yamada didn't want Michihiko to hate him.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

The lottery and takoyaki sales together totaled over 140,000 yen¹. The lottery didn't do much, but the takoyaki sold like crazy. Flour-based products are strong.

After putting away the machinery in the gang's warehouse, it was close to noon. After eating, I stopped by the office in the afternoon.

"Thanks for your hard work yesterday."

The boss's face was as bright as when I saw him during the festival.

"You too, boss. Here are yesterday's sales."

Yamada promptly handed over a brown envelope. The boss took it without looking inside and placed it on the side of the table. Since he didn't check, I self-declared, "It's 145,600 yen." The boss's eyebrows twitched.

"You sold a lot."

"Takoyaki was doing well."

The boss smiled and closed his eyes, saying, "I'm thirsty."

At his mutter, Yamada gave a quick wink to Ryota. Ryota hurriedly got up, went to the refrigerator, poured barley tea into three cups, and returned.

"Boss, here you go."

Ryota kneeled down and offered it. The boss responded with a "Hmm" and took a sip of barley tea. Then he sighed deeply.

"There's something I want to tell you two today."

In a serious tone, I had a bad feeling that it might involve sudden, costly obligations. But despite that, the boss's expression was bright...

"As of tomorrow, I've decided to disband the Shima gang."

I involuntarily let out a foolish-sounding "Huh."

"I truly apologize to you two who stayed until the end. I've been an incompetent boss, and I'm sorry.”

As the meaning sank in, my mind went blank. Gradually, color returned, and Yamada leaned forward, saying, "Wait a minute!"

"What do you mean disbanding! Even if you suddenly say that, I..."

The boss looked pained and lowered his face.

"I've been thinking about it since before Suda and the others quit. No matter how much we're called yakuza, we never laid a hand on civilians and managed to get along reasonably well with the world. But times change. The era of street-corner yakuza is over. The business is tough. Even at meetings, it's all about money, money, money. I'm tired too. I've made my wife and kids cry a lot, but I'm thinking it might be time to go back to just being an old man."

The boss returned the envelope Yamada had handed over.

"Split this money between the two of you. I wish I could give you a bit more, but we're also strapped for cash."

As Yamada stared intently at the brown envelope back in his hands, he was called by his name, "Yamada." He raised his head. The boss was smiling kindly.

"At first, you said to me, 'I can't become a law-abiding citizen.' That's not true at all. Just look at how you worked yesterday. You can make it anywhere."

Yamada didn't reply, just lowered his eyes.

"...Still, if you really want to continue being a yakuza, I have a brother who's a senior in another gang. I could introduce you to him, but the place is in Tokyo."

Tokyo... Yamada mulled over the boss's words in his heart.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

As I left the group's office, the sun was already tilting towards the west. Since I returned the truck to the office parking lot, I would be taking the train back home.

"Hey, Ryota, wanna grab something to eat before heading back?"

"Yeah."

I suddenly felt like having okonomiyaki, so I headed to "Ajisen," a place I used to frequent with my aunt when I was in elementary school. It was a precious time when I could escape from my father's violence and enjoy delicious food outside.

The restaurant had five counter seats, five table seats, and two tatami rooms. I went straight to the tatami room. I had Ryota cook my portion, and I smoked a cigarette. Perhaps due to summer vacation, there were many young customers who seemed to be junior and senior high school students.

"What will it be, boss?"

Even though I knew, I replied, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are your plans for the future?"

"What about you?"

"I'll stick with you, boss."

Ryota said it as if it were obvious. For a moment, my chest tightened, but I masked it by snorting, "Hmm."

"Are we going to Tokyo?"

Although there were other third-tier groups in the local area, the main organization we were affiliated with was different. While the groups maintained a facade of friendship, there were often small competitions and conflicts among the lower ranks, and I didn't think I would get along well with that group. If I were to continue being a yakuza, it seemed like it would be better to rely on the boss's acquaintances.

"I've been thinking, is it not possible for the boss to become the Boss?"

I exhaled smoke and said, "Are you stupid?"

"I'm not the type to be a boss. I was a second-in-command because there were no higher-ups."

The okonomiyaki was ready. As I smelled the sauce, I remembered eating a mountain of takoyaki, a similar flour-based dish, yesterday, but it was too late to dwell on it now.

"So, are we going to Tokyo?"

I couldn't answer right away.

"There must be a lot of beautiful women in Tokyo, right?"

"Well, yeah."

Suddenly, I thought I heard Michihiko’s voice, so I peered around the table seats. I thought it might be my imagination, but there was no mistake, it was him. He was sitting with four other guys around the same age, wearing a black t-shirt and shorts in casual attire. Michihiko was positioned with his back towards our tatami room, so they hadn't noticed us.

"Hey, isn't that Michan?"

I kicked Ryota's leg under the table.

"Ow, that hurts. What are you doing?"

"Don't speak so loudly. He's with friends."

"I know that too."

Ryota pouted discontentedly. Even though it wouldn't matter if Michihiko noticed them, it would be a hassle if his acquaintance with someone like them was known to his friends. Yamada and Ryota became extremely quiet. Instead, the conversation at the table became clearer.

"So, when is Kanou going home?"

The guy with short hair and glasses spoke to Michihiko.

"Well, it's a hassle, so I'm thinking of staying in the dorm all the time. When I go home, they keep nagging me to study."

Michihiko's tone of voice was different from when he talked to me, more cheerful and assertive.

"Kanou has never dropped below fifth place in the class. And yet, they still tell you to study."

"I don't have any other strengths."

"...Michan, he’s really smart, huh?"

Ryota asked quietly while chewing on his okonomiyaki.

"Maybe."

"Since it's a school for advanced studies, being fifth in the class there is amazing. When I see people like that, I think they're just normal high school students. The kids around him seem pretty smart too."

I silently continued to eat my okonomiyaki.

"I heard that the dorm will be closed for five days from August 14th this year."

"What?"

Michihiko sounded surprised at the glasses guy's words.

"Last year, when the dorm supervisor took a break, a substitute came, and there was an issue where she got involved with a student. So this year, they're closing it."

"That's troublesome. I don't want to go home."

"If you want, Kanou, you can come to my place."

The guy in the half-sleeve shirt sitting diagonally across from Michihiko said, and Michihiko tilted his head, saying, "I wonder..."

As new customers entered, the okonomiyaki shop became even noisier, and I couldn't hear Michihiko and his friends' conversation anymore.

After finishing their meal, Yamada and Ryota left the restaurant promptly. Michihiko was engrossed in a lively conversation with his friends, completely unaware of Yamada and Ryota's presence or their departure.

After parting ways with Ryota in front of the station, Yamada boarded a train in the opposite direction of his apartment. He got off at the third station. About a fifteen-minute walk from the station was his aunt's house. When he was young and injured from his father's violence, Yamada stayed with his aunt for a while. His aunt was kind to Yamada, but he never got along with his uncle. When his father severely injured his aunt, his uncle stormed into their house shouting, "I won't let you come to this house again!" After that, his aunt rarely visited them.

She called occasionally, perhaps out of concern for him, but the contact ceased when Yamada was sent to juvenile detention.

In the winter when Yamada was seventeen, his father passed away. It was around his first year in the organization. He was instructed by his senior to bring back money, but no matter what he tried, he couldn't come up with a single yen. "If you don't have money, steal it," they said, but he didn't have the courage for that. So, for the first time in a long while, he returned home. Seizing the opportunity of his father's absence, he planned to take something and sell it. Stealing from his father felt better than stealing from someone else who didn't deserve it.

It was bitterly cold that day. Snow had fallen overnight, accumulating nearly several tens of centimeters. Even after daybreak, the sky remained gray, and snowflakes occasionally fluttered down.

During the day, Yamada sneaked into the house through the unlocked back door. His father often went out to play pachinko during the day. As expected, he wasn't home that day either. Being poor to begin with, there was nothing of value in the house. Not wanting to return empty-handed, he took the television outside.

Initially planning to take only things, greed got the better of him. He rummaged through the chest of drawers. When he was in middle school, he had been cheated out of a considerable amount of money from his newspaper delivery earnings. He justified it to himself as just getting back what was owed to him.

In the end, only a thousand yen came out. He sighed and was about to leave the house when a loud noise came from the garden. Thinking his father had returned, he panicked. There were subsequent thuds. Recognizing the rhythm of the sound, he cautiously pulled back the curtain and looked outside the window.

Snow piled on the roof had fallen with a thud. Startled by the sound of the snow, as he chuckled at his own fright, he noticed something dark inside the gate. He didn't think there were any ornaments that looked like that, and as he focused his eyes, he had a bad feeling.

Yamada hurriedly rushed outside. Inside the gate was something dark, which turned out to be his father. He was half-buried in the snow, holding a cup of sake in his right hand. His lips were curled into a happy smile.

"Oh, Dad?"

No response came when he called out. When he cautiously touched his cold and stiff cheek, it was as cold and solid as ice... The drunkard had frozen to death in the garden. Upon hearing the autopsy results, he was told that his father had died the previous day. His father remained frozen in the garden for two days until Yamada found him.

They didn't hold a funeral, and he didn't inform his aunt. She might have come if he had informed her, but he had a strange pride, feeling abandoned by his aunt in his heart, and he stubbornly refused to do so.

Now, why was he unconsciously walking in this direction? He had become a yakuza, but the organization was gone... he didn't intend to explain his situation. He just wanted to see her face after such a long time. That's all.

He hadn't seen her since middle school, so she might not recognize his face. But if that's the case, it's fine. Hoping to catch even a glimpse of her from a distance... he turned the corner, tilting his head. The scenery was different. He retraced his steps to check, but the convenience store at the corner was the same.

The single-story house surrounded by an old wooden fence was gone, replaced by a white house. The old house might have been rebuilt. Yamada approached the white house slowly. Peeking over the fence, he saw a young child playing in the yard. His aunt didn't have children. He wondered if the child had been born since then, and as he watched, the child noticed him and stared intently.

A woman came out into the yard. She appeared to be in her late twenties. She frowned at Yamada, then carried the child inside the house. Yamada went around to check the nameplate. It was no longer his aunt's surname. Perhaps she had moved. No, she had definitely moved.

He stood frozen in front of the gate for a while, but the setting sun heated his back, and he reluctantly turned on his heel. He walked back the way he had come. Though he was only walking, sweat beaded on his forehead and fell like tears.

When he returned to the apartment, Ryota wasn't there. Yamada thought he might have gone to the convenience store, but he didn't return even after it got dark. At this rate, he was probably at the pachinko parlor, perhaps losing and getting worked up about it.

He grabbed the car keys and went outside. Turning off the audio, the engine noise reverberated through his whole body like a distant rumble.

He parked the car in front of a vending machine halfway up the mountain. He sent a message to Michihiko saying, "Come right now," and reclined his seat to lie down. After about ten minutes, there was a knock on the side window. He returned the seat to its upright position and unlocked the door.

"What's the rush all of a sudden?"

Michihiko was wearing the same clothes as when he saw him during the day.

"...No reason."

"I rushed here because you said 'right now,' though."

He peered into the car and asked, "Is Ryota not here?"

"We're not together all year round. Hurry up and get in."

Before Michihiko could decide whether to close the passenger door, Yamada drove off. Michihiko, who hadn't fastened his seatbelt, shook back and forth. When they arrived at a family restaurant, Michihiko said, "I already ate dinner."

"Just eat whatever," Yamada said, and Michihiko ordered something like a chocolate parfait. Watching him eat made Yamada feel nauseous.

After eating, they went to the arcade and played for about an hour before driving around aimlessly. Wanting to see the city from a high place, they climbed a hill with a night view. The park with a good view was closed due to replanting of plants.

"Forget it, man." He kicked down the signboard and walked in. Michihiko picked up the fallen signboard and followed behind. The garden under the city lights, looking like a bald mountain due to replanting, was pathetic and miserable, but the night view was still beautiful. It was beautiful but small. A small town.

Yamada lay down on a patch of grass that wasn't bare. Michihiko sat next to him in a cross-legged position. It was humid, and even after the sun set, it was muggy. The breeze blowing was somewhat refreshing.

Looking up at the sky, he saw the stars.

"Was yesterday's sales low?" he asked suddenly.

"What are you talking about?"

"...you seem to be in a bad mood."

"Are you stupid?"

He spat it out and closed his eyes. After a while, there was a rustling sound. Michihiko lay down next to him, staring at the night sky. As he looked at his profile, their eyes met. Michihiko stared back without averting his gaze.

Yamada sat up and looked down at Michihiko from above. They gazed at each other, and Yamada lay on top of his body as he lay on his back. There was the warmth of their bodies and the smell of soap. His fingers moved naturally, embracing Michihiko's small head. He sighed softly several times. After a while, Michihiko complained, "Shinji, it's hot."

"Shut up, just be quiet!"

He yelled, and it quieted down. Their bodies were hot, sweat seeped from where they touched, and the air breathed in was hot and stuffy.

"Shinji, are you lonely?"

"Of course not," he spat out.

"Then... do you want to...?"

"I don't want to. Is all you think about is jerking off, you horny brat?"

While embracing Michihiko, Yamada sighed, "Damn it."

"S-Sorry."

I was saying something irrational. Still, Michihiko apologized.

"Hey, should I treat you like a girl?"

I imagined Michihiko turning into a transvestite. That's not it. That's not what I meant.

"I didn't mean you should become like a girl."

I sighed.

"You're Chinchin-hiko. Without a dick, you wouldn't be a boy.²"

"I thought you had finally stopped saying that." Michihiko pouted, and I laughed.

"Chinchin-hiko’s pee-pee is a sexy one."

"Cut it out!"

I held Michihiko, who was getting angry, and laughed. I pretended to fall asleep like that. If I fell asleep, Michihiko probably wouldn't force me to wake up, and I felt like he would stay with me until morning.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

The highway was busy at the end of summer, with the service area parking lot full despite it being a weekday. There were a lot of cars and people.

Ryota said, "I'm a bit hungry," and went into the store, while Yamada stayed in the car and made a phone call. If it didn't connect, he thought about sending a text, but Michihiko answered right away.

"What are you doing right now?" he asked.

"Cleaning," came the reply.

"What's that about?"

"Weeding around the dormitory. We always have to do it before the second semester starts."

Looking outside, the sun was blazing. Yamada thought it was tough to work in such heat.

"But I'll be done in about thirty minutes."

Even though I didn't ask, he told me about his schedule after that.

"I'm at the parking area right now."

"Is that so?"

Yamada paused for a moment.

"...I'm going to Tokyo. Since the group disbanded, I decided to rely on acquaintances over there."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then suddenly, "Are you going to stay there!?" came the angry shout.

“Yeah, probably.”

“When are you leaving!?”

“Are you an idiot? I just said I’m in the parking area. I’m already on my way.”

"I didn't hear anything about it!" Michihiko yelled.

“I’m telling you now!”

“Wh-why are you going over there?”

"There’s a lot going on in this world too. When the boss says the gang’s disbanding, I have no choice but to agree. I’m a born yakuza. I have to live in this world."

Michihiko fell silent.

"If you ever come to Tokyo, I’ll hang out with you."

"You're not coming back?"

His voice sounded so lonely, almost like he was about to cry, shaking Yamada’s heart.

"I won't be coming back. I don't have money, and I don't know what kind of group it is over there."

The silence continued. It was honestly uncomfortable, but I didn't hang up the phone.

"Shinji, do you hate me?"

Michihiko's voice was trembling.

"...Of course not."

"But you never said anything to me."

"That's why I'm telling you now!"

"I can't just go to Tokyo whenever I want."

"That's not my problem! I'm doing dangerous work here. It's not like your life at school. It's different for me."

Frustrated by his own shouting, Yamada hung up. He held his phone tightly for a while, but then couldn’t resist calling again. On the other end, he heard Michihiko sobbing. He could imagine his tear-streaked face.

"Don't cry, it's annoying."

He gave him a scolding, and the sobbing stopped. "I don't understand why you're crying. Just send me a normal text like you used to. You can come during winter break or holidays. You said you were saving your pocket money."

"Can I come?"

"No one said you couldn't, idiot!"

"...Then, I'll come when I have time off. I'll definitely come to visit."

"I'm hanging up now, bye."

I hung up abruptly. Even though it was just a conversation, I felt tense and took a deep breath while still gripping the phone tightly.

While I was like that, Ryota came back. He was swinging two bottles of carbonated drinks and shiny grilled squid.

"Don't get my car dirty.”

"It's okay. I made sure to shake off the sauce properly. I got some for you too, boss."

Without even asking, Ryota handed one over. With no other choice, Yamada took a bite. It was soft and surprisingly tasty.

“You should stop calling me ‘boss.’ The guys over there will definitely give you a hard time.”

“I’ll try to be careful.” Ryota said, eating the squid and drinking soda. The sunlight through the glass was hot.

“By the way, I was wondering, did you tell Michan you’re going to Tokyo? You told me not to say anything, but when I saw him the day before yesterday, he didn’t seem to know.”

“...I just told him over the phone, though.”

“Oh, really?”

Ryota finished off the last bit of squid.

“He said he’s going to Tokyo.”

“What?”

“He said he’ll definitely come during the long break.”

“Hmm,” Ryota nodded.

"I was thinking it might have been better to say goodbye to Michan properly before coming here today, but if it's not a long farewell, that's fine, right?"

Yamada handed Ryota the empty skewer and lowered the handbrake The lingering gloom he’d felt for days finally cleared.

“If we don’t hurry, it’ll be night before we get there.”

Michihiko will definitely come when winter break comes. He'll definitely come. ...If that's the case, then I won't have any regrets about what I left behind in that town.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW.

1. Around $870 USD.

2. Chin-chin (チンチン) can be a childish or colloquial reference to penis, like in pee-pee. Hiko (彦) can mean "boy". So Shinji is calling Michihiko 'Pee-pee boy.

Previous TOC Next