Chapter Text
By the time he made his way back down, Kokichi was fast asleep on the futon. Satoru grabbed his keys and wallet and closed the door softly behind him. He headed quicky down the stairs, but took the door which led to the kitchen of the ground floor izakaya instead of the exit to the street.
“Midori-san? I’m signing in,” he called, grabbing an apron and tying it quickly around his waist. He looked mournfully at the dishes piled high in the industrial sink. “Busy night?” he asked.
“Satoru! You’re late!” Midori-san walked into the kitchen, several donabe pots stacked precariously in his arms. He was an elderly man of around eighty. All but deaf but quick with a knife he could easily put even the most seasoned chef to shame when it came to chopping everything from daikon to sea urchins. The only thing sharper than his knives was his tongue, he was the embodiment of old-fashioned values and made it no secret that he found both Satoru’s blond hair and his bachelorhood deeply problematic. But Satoru was cheap labour and didn’t complain. Plus, Midori-san wasn’t unsympathetic to his situation. He wasn’t unsympathetic but he was, unfortunately, deeply misinformed.
“Have you been out making babies? Don’t you have enough mouths to feed without putting another girl in the family way? You youth today, I swear…”
“Midori-san,” Satoru cut in before the man could really get going. “I told you I’m a foster parent. No baby making was involved whatsoever.”
“Foster parent,” the old man snorted, “Is that some fancy new word for sowing your seed where it may and not taking a lick of responsibility? In my day …” Satoru sighed and started on the pile of dishes.
By the time he was done Midori-san had already left for the night, leaving Satoru to sweep the dining room and lock up. When he was done, Satoru left through the front entrance. He slipped the key under the door and headed down the street.
He walked a half a dozen blocks before turning into a side street of neon lights and bad decisions. Bars, clubs and brothels lined both sides. A couple of welcome girls called out to him and he waved to them as he passed. The host club ‘Jujutsu’ was crowded on either side by a pachinko bar and a soapland brothel, so naturally it did not cater to the most high end clientele, but it was known to be relatively clean, providing good company and decent drinks to both male and female patrons.
The bouncer, Atsuya Kusakabe, gave Satoru a perfunctory nod busy lighting a cigarette. Satoru returned it with a wave and headed in. Utahime was manning the welcome desk, she barely glanced away from her computer screen but her displeasure was plapable.
“Late again, Satoru?” she sighed. “Why do we keep you around again?”
“Because I’m pretty,” he replied with a cheeky wink, “and no one knows how to make old fashioned’s for the old man like I do. Bet the moment I stop making them he’ll bite the dust and then we’ll all be out of a job. You should thank me really!” He said, leaning over the desk and buffing his nails on the front of his shirt.
“Is that right?” A heavy hand land heavily on Satoru’s shoulde. Slowly he turned and met the “we are not amused” face of Masamichi Yaga, the club manager. “Satoru you are eight minutes late,” he said in that booming voice that carried a great deal of judgement. “As always not enough to formerly reprimand you for," he sighed "so get behind the bar and make the boss an old-fashioned.”
“Yes sir!” Satoru saluted and carefully side stepped a frowning Yaga.
Behind the bar Kirara was frantically trying to keep up with the orders. A feat made all the more difficult by the fact that he was in nine-inch platforms.
“There you are Satoru you wretch!” he cried when he spotted Satoru from across the bar. He was leaning over to pour a row of shots. The movement hiked up the back of his mini skirt, and when Satoru stepped behind the bar, he gave the cherry-red, pleather behind a playful tap.
“I can't believe you! First Hinata got sick and left early and then you come late! I had to cover for an hour! An hour!” Kirara pointed a blow torch at half a dozen terrified college students, set the shots on fire and rounded on Satoru like a snake. “Do you know what an hour in these heels does to my feet? Well, do you?”
“I’m sorry Ki-Ki!” He said, “I’ll rub them for you later, I promise, ok?” Kirara huffed but handed Satoru the blow torch and brushed past him hissing, “you better." From across the room, Hiroto-san, one of Kirara’s regulars was already waving him over.
Satoru quickly took over looking after the busy counter, dispatching orders and dropping flirty smiles to compensate for the wait. He noticed that a few tables to the left of Kirara, Charles, a quirky boy from Paris, was entertaining his regular Kinji. Charles was straddling Kinji and feeding him small bits of something in between kisses. He suspected it wouldn’t be long before they made use of the rooms upstairs. It was the worst kept secret at the club that those two were an item, and nobody understood why Kinji insisted on coming to the club to spend time with Charles. Satoru suspected it was because Kinji was the heir to one of the major yakuza factions, and making the affair public would put Charles in danger. It didn’t stop him from noticing that shortly after Kinji met Charles he coincidently also became his one and only customer. But seeing as he paid premium every time he came, which was practically every night, the old man couldn’t fire Charles. That and Satoru suspected he was too scared of Kinji's retribution.
Across from Kinji and Charles, Mei Mei and two other girls were entertaining a group of drunk businessmen who were all but spilling their wallets in order to impress her. On the table stood several bottles of Dom Perignon, a platter of sushimi and some seasonal fruit. Mei Mei spotted Satoru and gave him a wink. He waved back with a smile.
Things went steady at the bar once he got into the pace of things. The night passed uneventfully, until…
“Well, if it isn’t my beautiful boy,” Jogo leered across the bar. “How are you today sweety?”
“Evening Jogo-san. The usual?” asked Satoru, keeping his voice neutral.
“Now, now, we’ll get there soon enough,” chortled Jogo like the ugly toad he was. “Why don’t you come over and join me at the table with a bottle of whiskey and we get to know each other a little better, what do you say?” He licked his lips, eyeing Satoru up and down like a hooker on the street.
“For the last time Jogo-san, I’m not a host, just a bartender,” he reminded him with fake cheer, like they hadn’t had this conversation a dozen times before. “If you’re looking for some company why don’t you go see Utahime at the welcome desk, and I’m sure she can set you up with one of our fine ladies or gents?”
He already felt sorry for whoever go that allocation. Most likely the newbie, Haruta Shigemo. He was young, slim and blonde, and seemed to fill all of Jogo’s parameters perfectly. Last time Haruta served Jogo, he almost quit on the spot. Jogo all but molested him, getting progressively grabbier as he got wasted, until he forced the boy underneath him and had to be physically lifted off Haruta by the bouncer, Miguel. Haruta was inconsolable for over an hour, gently mothered by Kirara and Utahime in the bathroom until he was calm enough to go home. A display like that would have had any other customer banned for life, but Jogo was the CFO of a large energy company, and the old man made an exception “just this once”. Satoru thought it was a steaming pile off crap, but whatever. Jogo was still leering at him.
“I spoke to your boss. Asked him to promote you baby. Make you a host instead of a bartender. What a waste of your talents, don’t you agree?”
“Jogo-san,” Satoru sighed to reign in his anger.“I am happy with my current allocation. Hosting is not for me.” He placed a glass of whiskey in front of the man hoping that would shut him up.
“Why not? You’ve got a pretty face, you should make use of it while you're still young and fresh,” said Jogo, running one finger up and down the condensation on the glass. Satoru shivered.
“Yeah well, I’m doing just fine but thanks for the unsolicited life advice,” he replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He needed this job, damn it!
“That’s not what I heard,” said Jogo. “Heard you’re in struggle town baby. Feeding a stable of orphaned brats will do that to you, you know?” He smiled meanly between sips of whiskey. Satoru froze.
“How do you know about my children?” He said slowly, a crippling fear warred with enraged protectiveness inside him, but he forced himself to remain calm.
“I have my sources,” Jogo shrugged. “I have a proposition for you. Let me tie you up and do whatever I want to you for one night and I will pay you ten million yen.” Satoru was so caught off guard he just stood their gapping at the man. Jogo appeared unbothered, and finished his drink in silence. When he was done, he said. “Think about it won’t you sweety?”
Satoru watched him leave the club and after taking a few moments to gather himself, he decided to take his break and called one of Mei’s girls to take over.
Satoru made his way outside into a back alley. He nodded at Yaga who was taking a smoke break and pulled out his phone. Ten million yen, he thought, scrolling mindlessly through Facebook. That’s a life changing amount. He could get Kokichi the medical care he needed, and have left over money to see his other children through to university. A tempting offer indeed. Jogo might be a despicable, disgusting toad of a man, but Satoru doubted he would risk engaging in anything more than some kinky sex. After all if he caused any damage to Satoru that would require medical attention, he would risk exposing himself and his proclivities. Yes, the more he thought about it the more he was certain that Jogo only wanted to dominate him in some way, maybe play out a rape fantasy. That seemed likely with the way he assaulted Haruta, and his inability to take no for an answer. The question was would Satoru be able to move on, to live with himself, after selling himself to that pig for money. He wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. This was the only way he could save Kokichi, and he’d be damned if he didn't take it.
Satoru glanced at the time and saw that his break was almost up. He was about to slip his phone back into his jeans when it rang. He looked at the caller and was surprised to see that it was Nanami. Satoru hadn’t seen or heard from Nanami in almost a year, since he moved to Kyoto for work.
“Hi Nanami,” he said, “It’s been a while. How’s Kyoto?”
“Satoru, I’m well. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch sooner, it took a while for me to settle here, and then I got caught up in the work.”
“That’s alright, I know how you are. All work and no play makes Nanami a dull boy.”
“Are you well?”
“As well as can be.” Satoru spotted Yaga giving him a stern glare, stabbing a pin cushion that he used for ‘stress relief’, and decided to add quickly. “Listen, I gotta go. My break is almost up.”
“Of course, I understand. I won’t take much of your time. I just wanted to let you know I'm taking a week off work to go down to the lake in a couple of weeks, it would be great if I could see you there. There's someone I would like you to meet, actually. If you have some spare leave, I thought you might like to come up with the family to my old family lake house in Honshu? I’ve since bought a smaller unit in that area so I won’t be using it, and if you can make your way up you’re welcome to stay as long as you like for free.”
“Are you serious?” Satoru thought about the children, and how excited they’d be to spend a week at the lake. Then he remembered everything else.
“Thanks so much for your offer Nanami, but I’m not sure now is the right time for us to be heading on long road trips.” Then he remembered Kokichi. Thought about how even with the surgeries there was no guarantee that something else wouldn’t come up to cut his life short. This might be the only chance Satoru will ever have to take the whole family on a holiday together. Before he could overthink things he was already saying. “Actually, you know what. We would love to come and stay with you. Send me the deets and thanks again Nanami!”
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Yaga had gone back inside, and Satoru suspected he was lying in wait to chew him out, but he didn’t care. He was going on holiday with his family and he was growing excited. It was the reprieve he needed before he commited himself to the 'Great and Terrible" thing he had to do.