Chapter Text
Samatoki waited by the door, feet tapping restlessly against the wooden floor as he pulled out his phone once more to recheck the text he received three hours prior.
I’m coming home.
-Nemu
And he thought he couldn’t feel more relieved than he had when he read the first three words but as he scrolled, a habit he attained from receiving texts from Sasara with more messages at the very bottom.
p.s. I’m sorry niichan
When the door finally reopened and Samatoki finally could see the one person he had longed for in the past few weeks…
They stood, both staring at the other looking for any signs of anger or distraught. But all the siblings could find was relief.
Samatoki finally moved and gave his sister a hug at which she returned just as strongly.
“I missed you, niichan…” she uttered.
A relieved chuckle escaped his throat, “Missed ya too…” he replied, holding back a single tear.
They had dinner together that night, cooked together after so long and Samatoki swallowed his fear and finally asked. “What made ya come back?”
Nemu stared at her plate as she munched on her vegetable. “Niichan… you know I only wanted the best for you too…”
He groaned but was touched nonetheless. “Nemu, we’ve been through this. That’s my job. You’re not the older sibling here. You’ve done more than enough helping out the housework. Go enjoy your life.”
She huffed, still miffed at his rejection. “Someone came to me, told me to rethink all my decisions and… and how you’re so worried for me.”
Ah…
“Niichan, I love you so much too. Why can’t you let me do what’s best for the both of us? You’re always doing everything…”
His thoughts flashed to Ichiro, doing everything alone huh…
“They hate me. They said they hate me. Samatoki-san… I’m just… I’m just a failure. Doing everything for them and yet… I never accomplished anything.” Ichiro’s words still sting a fresh wound in him.
If this is what that Jiro and Saburo felt too…
“I want to protect you, Nemu.” Samatoki replied firmly.
He watched as her shoulders tense in disagreement, “And what about you? Niichan… This yakuza business… I’m glad for you being with the Dirty Dawg. But if you still can’t cut ties with those other people…”
“Nemu,” he called out, chin resting on his fists, “don’t worry about me.”
“How could I not!” she cried out, “Niichan… If anything happens to you–”
“The three of them will back me up.” There was no hesitation in his voice despite it being a gambling statement.
The four of them stood on their own principles, their own solidarity. But throughout the months they bonded. Yes, Samatoki closed his eyes, yes, we would help each other.
Nemu sighed, “I’m still not happy with this, niichan.”
“I know.”
“And storming out certainly didn’t do any of us good.”
“That was a rash decision I’ll still scold you after this,”
She smiled jokingly, “I won’t leave again, but I’ll still find a way to help out too. Whether you like it or not, niichan.”
He smirked and held out his fingers, “Three conditions.”
+++
A single shot rang through the night.
And a dull thud resonated from behind one of the crates surrounding them.
“It’s too bad that it was designed to completely wipe out all memories while induced.” And the gun was swiftly placed back within the confines of whatever hidden pockets under his sweater.
“You mean the drug you fed me that night?” Samatoki asked as Ramuda made his way behind him to slowly untie the ropes.
Ramuda didn’t reply not even after all bindings were released and he deemed it safe enough to stand.
Turning his hands over he bemusedly noted all the red lines marking his wrists, “Where did you even learn to tie like that?” he just had to ask.
The smaller man made no move to turn around from heading to whoever he lodged a bullet into. “Fashion.”
Gathering himself on his feet he made his way to follow but Ramuda stopped and he’d never forget the words he said.
“For all you know, tonight, we never met.”
+++
That night after their long talk and Nemu insisting he reads her a bedtime story for childhood sakes, Samatoki went to smoke outside. A moment of contemplation before he pulled out his phone and texted the one person he wanted to talk most to.
Thanks.
But it was never replied.
And he only found out the reason the following morning upon approaching their headquarters.
Countless hooded and masked men surrounded the members present, Ichiro and Jakurai. Ramuda was nowhere to be seen. There were too many and on instinct Samatoki pulled out his mic, deflecting a badly aimed hit from a baseball bat from a nearby opponent, and activated it.
With the three of them it hadn’t taken long to wipe out their enemies. But he had been naïve to think that it was the end.
With the drop of their last enemy, Ichiro rushed over and to no one’s surprise but him, pulled at Jakurai’s collar preparing to attack at any second.
“Oi Ichiro–”
“What the hell do you mean this is all Ramuda’s fault?”
Samatoki stilled. Ramuda?
Jakurai sighed, “I meant every word, Ichiro-kun. I am only telling the tru–”
“Bullshit!”
Not one of them reacted when Jakurai’s mic fell to the ground in a noise too loud and grating on their ears.
Ichiro huffed while Samatoki could only stare. And Jakurai… Jakurai spat out blood before wiping the corner of his mouth.
“Are you satisfied, Ichiro-kun?” Jakurai asked calmly.
What the hell, Samatoki wanted to say, what the fucking–
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re done.” Ichiro replied, backing away, one glance at Samatoki and bowed, “Samatoki-san,” before running off.
Now left with only Jakurai and several heaps of unconscious bodies in the vicinity, from what had just occurred before his very eyes Samatoki could only stand in askance trying to make sense of anything.
“I apologize that you had to see that, Samatoki-kun,” Jakurai uttered.
Samatoki merely stood watching as a bruise slowly form on Jakurai’s jaw. Ichiro always had a good punch.
Jakurai caught his eyes and shook his head, “Do not worry. I deserved it.”
“What did you say about Ramuda?”
“Oh?” Jakurai fully turned to look at him, suspicion glazing his stare. Samatoki instantly hated it. A light shiver went through him. He never liked it whenever Jakurai had that look in his eyes. “I would presume you’d know by now, Samatoki-kun, having been with him plenty as of late.”
Shit. “I–”
Jakurai sighed as he picked up his fallen mic, “Well, regardless it doesn’t matter. If you’re looking for him, he should be in Shibuya hospital or his home.”
He clenched his fists and it was too late to realize when Jakurai noticed it, “What did you do to him?”
Samatoki paid no mind to the way Jakurai continued to eye him suspiciously, not until the doctor calmly replied with words as clear as day, “We engaged in an impromptu rap battle over a discourse and I’m afraid I’ve emerged as the one with lesser wounds. He’s still alive nonetheless, however, if you do intend on visiting, do keep an eye out for the females around him, would you? I’m sure you know by now what I’m referring to, Samatoki-kun.”
“And that’s what you told that brat?” Yeah, I do know about Ramuda and Chuuoku, he looked at Jakurai with as much spite he could master in his state, and I thought you were on his side all this time.
Jakurai gave him a thoughtful look, the nerve, raising a finger to do his iconic pose, “I simply informed him how the Dirty Dawg may come to meet its end soon, in a matter of days in fact, or shall I say, mere hours from now.”
“You’re quitting?”
“No.” Jakurai replied firmly, “There is simply no team anymore, Samatoki-kun, or rather, never had been. All three of us were just caught up in the delusion that there were when all we had was simply being used as test subjects of an inhumane experiment.”
Noticing Samatoki’s silence, Jakurai continued, “This may be hard to believe, even for you, Samatoki-kun.” The way he said it, Samatoki noticed, phrasing it as a hidden question…
Ichiro was right, Samatoki concluded. This is bullshit. But he couldn’t say it when he knows just mere straws of what Ramuda is up to with Chuuoku behind their backs that was apparently… enough to prove the reason behind their standing as the Dirty Dawg.
“I’ll go check on him,” Samatoki replied instead, making his way out, barely stopping just to say his last words, “and do me a favour and stay the fuck away from him.”
“Gladly, Samatoki-kun.” He heard Jakurai reply.
His knuckles rasped on the door as he stood at the place his gut urged him to go first. When no sound responded in the first minute he began to knock again, more fervently, until he could hear some shuffling behind the wood. The sound of the peephole opening and shutting before the lock was unclasped and Samatoki was greeted with a messy mop of pink hair.
More relief flooded in him than he’d dare to admit, even if Ramuda wasn’t looking at him, or when he heard his raspy voice, “So, Jakurai told you?”
It was a tone carrying a weight of defeat Samatoki would always recognize. “He really did a number on ya, didn’t he?”
Ramuda turned his head up to glare, “What do you want, Samatoki?”
Ah, there it is. The deep voice. “Let me in.”
“No.”
He lightly pushed on the door, “Let me in.”
Ramuda pushed back just as weakly, “Go away.”
“Not until I see how bad it is–” he was cut off when the door suddenly slammed shut by a force he didn’t reckon the younger man had given his condition. “Oi,” he called out, knuckles rasping on the door once more.
The door opened again, free from the padlock this time. Ramuda stood on the other side, the darkened hallway only made Ramuda look much worse in his oversized shirt and pants, band aids all over and he was sweating and panting as if it took so much effort to stand by the door.
“Happy?”
No. Absolutely fucking not. He pushed his way in, ignoring Ramuda’s exclaim, scrounging his nose when the waft of alcohol grew stronger, confirming that he wasn’t just imagining it. “You need to go to the hospital.”
“No.” Ramuda replied instantly.
Samatoki kicked his shoes off, uncaring how they toppled on the floor. “You can’t just tune out the injury with alcohol–”
“Yes I can!” Ramuda shouted before his balance failed and he himself fell on his knees, contradicting his very own statement.
Samatoki didn’t move from his spot perhaps in the hopes of saving any dignity Ramuda has left.
He elaborated, “I know how. I’m used to it. Hospitals… they smell like him… I don’t wanna see him…”
“Alright,” Samatoki replied, offering a hand after Ramuda continued to fail to pick himself back up. “But I ain’t leaving.”
He did what he could with his limited experience treating injuries for both Nemu and himself over the years. There wasn’t much he could do, not when most of the injuries are internal, and that little shit isn’t being the least cooperative with every whine and kicking whenever he applied more alcohol onto the scrapes and bruises.
And he said he’s used to it, Samatoki growled inwardly after getting another kick aimed on his shoulder. If he just wants to be noisy then so be it.
“Tell me if you start feeling dizzy,” There really would be nothing more he could do other than handing over some painkillers and ushering Ramuda off to bed. But it gets dangerous when it becomes too unbearable. Usually they have Jakurai but…
No, he reasoned. Jakurai said himself that he didn’t overdo it, but then again, their idea of defeat is different. If Jakurai went on full offense then–
“Samatoki.”
He looked back at his patient, if Ramuda can even be considered as one given their current predicament. “You gonna hit me with a pillow of all things?” he asked, eyeing a certain overly plump pillow on the designer’s hands. But before he can look away, he caught sight of how some of the fabric were pressed, outlining some shapes looking like … Oh.
It was bold of him to think he’s safe after everything. But while it had been in the back of his mind, even if it were his priority, he’d still come. Knowing this doesn’t change anything.
“I won’t run away, you know.” Samatoki said, looking away to continue placing all the spare bandages back to the supply kit. “I still haven’t–”
Ramuda pulled the gun out, trigger lock still in place, and dropped it onto the coffee table as if it weighed nothing. “Then whatever I’ll do is useless.”
“You want to drink anything?” he asked, few steps into the kitchen.
Ramuda didn’t look at him from where he was huddled under so many blankets on the couch, a few seconds pass as he seems to be contemplating before shaking his head and patting the space just beside him on the couch. “That’s not what you came here for is it?”
No it’s not. He complied, walked back and sat, finally deeming that Ramuda is in a stable enough state, he asked, “This the end for the four of us?”
“I don’t know.”
And Samatoki truly believed him.
Ramuda looked up, suddenly, staring at the muted tv ahead of them. “I… I screwed up.”
“I know.” Not everything but he knew just enough.
“And yet you still came…”
Of course, I did. Despite the way Ramuda puts it, sounding exasperated, both of them knew he wasn’t that upset about the sudden visit. Hoping to earn some more favour in letting him stay longer he pulled out his cigarette pack, not missing the way Ramuda lightly glared at him, “Any reason I shouldn’t?”
“Not if you give me one.”
Taking one for himself he threw it to the other, “Want me to open the windows?”
Ramuda shook his head, taking out a lighter from wherever he hid it, lighting one for himself. “It’s cold.”
They remained quiet over the next few minutes, looking ahead at what seems to be a weather report with as much interest as any could probably muster. Until at one point when he realized Ramuda beginning to doze off on his side.
It’s time to leave.
He stubbed out the last of the smoke on the ash tray he’s not even surprised to find hidden behind one of the pillows on the couch. For someone who has so much fabric lying around, Samatoki isn’t the slightest bit disturbed on the kind of things Ramuda chose to hide with it.
The latter hummed, “Nemu. She came back didn’t she…”
Samatoki stopped just as he was about to stand. “I never get to properly thank you.”
“For what?”
“For talking some sense into her.”
“I didn’t do anything, Samatoki.”
He chuckled, so that is how he wants to play the game. Well alright, he concluded. “If that’s how you want to do it, then fine by me. We both know what happened and I’m not going to forget it. Ever.”
Seconds turned to minutes and once he was so sure Ramuda won’t reply to him anymore, he picked up his jacket where it was draped on the hanger and made his way to exit.
Three steps away and…
“I lost nearly everything to them.” Came a soft murmur.
Samatoki didn’t turn around, unsure if he wants to see the cause of all the shuffling, his fingers gripping his jacket tighter as he heard the gun being picked up.
Ramuda stepped closer, footsteps echoing in the quiet penthouse. The safety lock was audibly tugged off. “…But they’re also the only thing I have left.”
“You know that’s not true…” he said softly, still facing the door that is increasingly morphing to his metaphorical escape by the second. “We’re here for you too.”
“You don’t understand…” Ramuda’s voice wavered. “None of you do… Not even if you promised!”
Samatoki sighed. Sensei… is that how you betrayed him?
“That’s why…” Ramuda stepped closer, the nozzle of the gun now pressing against his teammate’s back, “That’s why you understand right… Samatoki? Because if it’s an order I–”
With his experience harnessed over the years, it wasn’t hard for him to twist and slap the weapon away. But it didn’t end there and instead of an attack he embraced his friend as tight as he could... as comforting as he was able to provide.
Ramuda sobbed openly, pulling away but Samatoki didn’t budge. “Stop… Stop…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?! Let me go!” he shouted as he continued to trash around. “Let me go. Samatoki!”
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m sorry I failed to realize… All those moments, he reminisced, just how long had Ramuda been suffering. When it was evident that the Dirty Dawg was falling apart, when had it started? When Jakurai began avoiding Ramuda, when Ramuda began clinging onto his sleeve more than ever, warning him to stop digging information, warning him to not destroy their relationship event further…
Ramuda clung onto his shirt feverishly. He was still a bit too weak to have a steady standing. “It’s not your fault…” he whispered. “I… I’m satisfied.”
“You are?”
Ramuda nodded. “I am…” he looked up and their eyes met. “I am.”
“Are you… Are you really…” Are you happy?
“I’m… satisfied.” he closed his eyes and a hand squeezing between them to touch his chest, right where his heart is. “And this is enough.”
All Samatoki ever knew to do was to survive, survive on brute force and strong will. That was how he had made his way up, how he was able to provide the best he could for both himself and his precious little sister.
But not everyone needs what he could give. Nemu wants to be more independent with time, wants to break free from him to be able to support herself, insistently saying that that was the only way he would quit the yakuza. That was what caused a ridge between them. A ridge that never should have been met and yet it was inevitable.
He would never forget the disappointed and scared look Nemu first gave him when he first told her the news, nor the angry tearful eyes she had aimed at him before storming out the door. That had been the very first time they fought, the very first time Nemu rejected his touch for fear and disappointment of the bloodshed it had caused. And that had also been the very first time Samatoki truly hated himself.
Ramuda was different, had always been, just like how everyone differs from one another and yet, Ramuda singled out for no one ever knows what he’s up to, what he’s really thinking, what he’s truly feeling…
Even he doesn’t need what Samatoki could give. In the end, it all still came back to being nothing more than a useless brat constantly depending on wicked jobs and doing the bare decency just to survive. He needs them.
Nemu, the Dirty Dawg. They were his hopes in not plunging into the abyss of insanity he had been prepared when he first shook hands and sealed his fate.
And now even his second home were to be taken away from him.
+++
Once back alone in his penthouse, Amemura Ramuda stood solemnly on the doorway. He hated the silence, he hated it so, so, so much. It was only in silence that the screams from his horrors plagued his mind, consuming every last bit of consciousness he has left.
With no audience around, the mask faltered before it fell along with a new tear.
“Onee-san… I failed you again…”
Distantly he could hear her clicking her tongue in annoyance or rather in disgust, despite being just a few inches away, far away from the blood stubbornly seeping out of his gashes. yet for him, lying on the ground in his own blood, her heels clacking and her voice sounded so distant yet comforting.
Until he felt something heavy suddenly settling on him. Her coat. Her coat that represents her pride of her movement.
“Get up.” She ordered with as much authority in her voice that she has harnessed all these years. “I won’t repeat myself.”
And true to her words, she remained silent until he finally could regain a sitting posture despite being so unsteady. But she waited, and waited, and waited, regardless of how much of her time he wasted.
Once he was finally able to stand on both his two feet, shoulders hunched and hands cradling the side of his abdomen where it hurt the most, she said, “Good,” and turned on her tails and began walking, “we’ll try another way. For now, we retreat.”
Ramuda followed her, lagging a few steps behind but dutifully following, her coat weighing heavy and oversized on his small shoulders yet so prideful. He tried his best to ignore the ringing in his ears with every step he makes on the now barren land devoid of life except for the two of them and the undying fire. But I t’s not important. What’s important was that…
It wasn’t his checkmate just yet.
+++
A glance at his watch showed that it was still just past seven. It’s too early to head back. So he turned around, wished to, but he couldn’t just ignore Ramuda telling him to fuck off for the night.
“Damn it.” He cursed.
Relenting, he walked back to the same direction he was going, to the train station just past their current headquarters. There’s something else that needs to be done. He can’t just let the night end like this. But… Sensei would have already left by now, he reasoned, but there is a chance he’ll be in the clinic until nine.
His resolution came to an abrupt stop when he decided that talking to Jakurai after what just occurred would only enrage him more. He gritted his teeth, annoyed and frustrated at his own incompetency when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
A message from Jyuto. Blasted cop.
Let’s have a drink.
Attached is a location.
A bitter chuckle bubbled up in his throat, how ironic, going to meet a cop in the place where he was almost taken away.
“Well?” he grunted from behind, before sliding onto the chair right across the cop in the reserved room of a bar back in Yokohama. He ended up coming despite his better senses, figured a drinking company would be better than going back home fruitless.
Jyuto said nothing as he reached into his coat which he has yet to shed and pulled out a large brown envelope, sliding it across the table.
“Wh–”
“Evidence,” the cop beat him to it. “From Akiyama-san, found in one of his hidden storages from his hideout, which, I’m afraid was already searched before my team tracked it down.”
Samatoki looked at the file, not finding the will in him to open.
Akiyama and he weren’t close. Just an informant suggested from another, and another. He figured the one that isn’t close to him and Ichiro would be the best bet he could to unravel all of Chuuoku’s loose ends.
He really should have known better then to send an innocent man marching into death’s hands. Akiyama had been ecstatic, but hesitant, like any other informant out there who silently rejects the change imposed by Chuuoku. But the man accepted, like the fools he and his client were.
Jyuto ignited a cigarette, offering him one but Samatoki shook his head, declining. The aftermath from smoking in Ramuda’s living room still very much lingers in his mouth. It felt different than a usual smoking session, perhaps it was because he felt that it would be their very last.
“It’s interesting,” Jyuto remarked. “I didn’t go through everything, yet, but I suppose doing it here with you would be more worth it now that I can know what exactly you asked him to find.”
“Anything. Any single thing he could dig up that can be used against Chuuoku.” Samatoki found himself saying, lips running without him being able to stop it, all the secrets spilling out, and he doesn’t want it to stop either. All these past few weeks, all the secrets he kept, choking him up like the vicious snake it is. He wants it over. “Nemu was on some sort of trial phase to get into Chuuoku. That’s why she left home. We fought.”
“My condolences,”
He sighed, “She came back. She decided to let it go for me.”
“And Akiyama?”
“…I never heard from him ever since I saw him off.”
Jyuto looked away, slightly, “Until I spoke of him just mere days ago.”
Samatoki nodded. Yeah.
“From what I’ve read,” Jyuto paused, his expression turning pained and disgusted, “…You found a pretty good investigator. It’s a shame really. But the information there… You got what you wanted, Samatoki. You can use it all against Chuuoku had it be spread to the public, but mind you, not as someone who works on the side of the law but as a fellow citizen living in this era of change, this would ruin all the balance we just maintained after years of endless war.”
“I know.” Samatoki replied. Of course I do. He looked back at Jyuto, “Did you make any copies?”
The cop shook his head, “Frankly speaking, it was I who personally found these. From years of field work dealing with people who know how to hide their valuables, I suppose it gave me a upperhand in this case. I didn’t run these over the official documentaries. Replicating it would only give me more trouble in the future.”
“What’s in these?” Samatoki pointed at the file, “What had they been doing?”
“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
“Tell me,” he insisted.
Jyuto sighed, “Experiments. As expected. But some details… well, let’s say they’re not very pleasing to the conscious mind.”
“And this would destroy Chuuoku?”
Silence spread between them, but it wasn’t unwelcomed.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Samatoki? The only reason why I sought you tonight is–”
“I know,” he cuts in, “Just answer my question.”
“They won’t be destroyed completely, not this easy. But it would ruin their reputation severely and instil even greater fear for us and our fellow citizens.”
Then that’s more than enough,
“Wait!” Jyuto shouted, rising from his chair, “What are you–”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Samatoki replied grimly. The warm air on his face increasing the more he brought his lighter closer.
“You’re–”
“Thanks for your work,” and as the tip of the fire touches the edge, the fire grew relentless, devouring every paper inside and leaving nothing but ash behind.
Before the smoke could rise high enough he threw it back onto the table and splashed their drinks onto it, successfully extinguishing the fire.
Jyuto shrunk back to his seat in silent, merely sighing as he pushed up his glasses. “You and your violent tendencies…” he slowly muttered.
“One life is enough.” Said Samatoki.
“Won’t it be a tribute if we resolve what actually had-”
“No. Some things…” Samatoki gazed at his now empty glass. “Just needed time.”
“Oh? While I admire your sudden profound patience, might I say that this isn’t exactly the right time-”
“Jyuto.”
The cop sighed, “My, when you use a tone like that, is there something else I’m missing?”
A brief thought wandering to a figure walking out of the door as if time had slowed down when he was in fact storming out… The pained look in his eyes… “I owe a lot to someone.”
“You should have stayed away. You should have let her be…”
Samatoki covered his eyes with his palm as he rested his arms on the table, hoping it would deter the memory. In the end I only caused you more grief, didn’t I? “…And this is the least I can do.”
The tone on the cop’s thoughtful hum say that he understood well what Samatoki meant. “…Well,” He replied, reclining back on his chair, the sound exceptionally loud in a suddenly silent bar, “all right then.”
+++
Ramuda disappeared over the next few days. It wasn’t any surprise for anyone. Few days following his visit, Samatoki arranged a meeting with the other two members. A decision on whether to continue or to end everything they had had in the past year.
Ichiro looked different when he entered their base but Samatoki was initially convinced that it was because the brat was still mulling over Jakurai’s words. It shouldn’t have surprised him, really, when Ichiro didn’t even greet him or when he threw the first punch.
Samatoki looked on as the small man continue to flung himself onto that brat from Ikebukuro, and then at sensei only this time much like a small dog barking at another that is too outsized for it to even battle, before his gaze finally returned to Ramuda.
Jakurai turned up in the midst of their discourse, silencing them with the words he must have been planning to say in the past few days, or even weeks, if Samatoki dared to say underneath all his anger. “It seems like the four of us can’t continue on with the way things are. I would like to cut the chase and save all of us the unnecessary time. Let us all come to an agreement, shall we?”
“You bastard,” Samatoki said right then and there. “You planned this all along, didn’t you?”
“Believe me, Samatoki-kun. It wasn’t me–”
“Yeah. Be like that.” He spat. “Go blame it on the one person you have the heart enough to reduce to a bloody mess like that. Tell me sensei… did you even see how badly you injured him?”
Memories of that night becoming more visible as it replayed in his mind. How he had hold a sobbing Ramuda who still couldn’t find it in himself to be truly open. Of course, Samatoki wouldn’t be the right person, no matter how much he wished he could help. His mind wandered back to how Ramuda had calmly told him to leave with a sad smile. To leave and not come back. That he had some things to attend to and Samatoki just couldn’t be there.
As if… As if he was outright telling him to be the last person to abandon him.
Samatoki gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, anything to stop himself from lunging at the former assassin. He doesn’t have a chance and he knew. The doctor stared back at him, understanding, accepting, as if saying, hate me all you want Samatoki-kun.
But what Samatoki wants to know most was…
Do you ever love him enough to regret destroying his world like that?
+++
Many months later…
Growling with every step he took, Aohitsugi Samatoki cursed inwardly, damn that rabbit. Bailing out on me like this. Drug bust my ass.
It was another one of those days where Riou contacted them claiming that he’s found a particularly good catch and wants to try something new. Neither Jyuto nor Samatoki had the heart to deny the ex-navy such a touching request. It’s not everyday Riou likes being in contact with civilization. Every moment matters, it’s a personal vow Samatoki made when he formed Mad Trigger Crew. No more doing the same mistake, no more turning a blind eye.
“Oh!” a familiar yet out of the place, cheerful voice called out. “Mr Hardcore! Fancy seeing ya here. Gonna grab dinner too? Riou-san’s cooking really is the best!”
Tch. He can feel a vein throbbing just above his eye. Is everyone from Shibuya this strange and lively. Talk about another sore sight.
“Hah? This is the friend you talkin’ ‘bout Riou?”
As if summoned, the ex-navy emerged from wherever he was hunting. The rustling of the trees only increased the dread Samatoki felt pooling in the bottom of his stomach. “Hello Dice, you’re just in time, as usual, and yes,” Riou greeted before turning to Samatoki, staring at him in a gaze that blatantly dares Samatoki to kick up a fuss about Dice being there. Only, Samatoki didn’t mind the gambler’s presence. Tsk, place more faith in me would ya, Riou. “he comes for dinner and lunch sometimes. It’s always lovely to have his presence around.”
“Woo!” The gambler cheered. “Riou-san you really are the best!”
Riou flashed him one of his rare smiles, “Likewise, Arisugawa-kun.”
It took him a few minutes, watching Riou toss some herbs that he claims to be nutritious into the boiling pot and eyeing the gambler from Shibuya who was busy scrounging up the special appetizer, before he finally acted on the gut feeling tearing him up inside. “Oi,” he called.
“Mmrph?” Dice answered incomprehensibly with mouth still stuffed with questionable meat.
“How is he?”
Dice visibly swallowed a huge chunk and Samatoki looked on in disgust as a giant gulp passed down the gambler’s throat. “He who?”
“Tch. That pink sore eye. Who the fuck else?”
“Oh! Hehe, thought you’re talkin’ about Gentaro!”
And it took him a while to recollect on who exactly is the person called Gentaro before a certain elusive author came to mind. “Why the fuck would I ask for that guy.”
Dice shrugged uncaringly, “Dunno. Random people ask me about Gentaro sometimes.”
“Just answer the damn question.”
“Okay, okay, geez, Ramuda was right you really are hot-tempered.” And Samatoki bit the urge to claim that everyone is always testing his patience. “Ramuda huh… haven’t seen him for a few days. Said he got a big project he’s been holding off and wouldn’t want my, as quote, ‘Dice’s one and only special greasy feet’ walking anywhere close to his precious fabric. So! I’m kinda evicted now and staying over in Gentaro’s.”
Typical. “Busying himself with work after your posse’s loss huh?” He said before he could stop himself. But Dice didn’t take it as an insult. A truly carefree guy indeed.
“Nah not really. It’s more like a–oh a shrimp! Hahah Riou-san you’re too generous–so, uh…” he trailed, swallowing a particularly large bite, “more like he spends too much time with us he forgot his own work.” Dice shrugged nonchalantly.
“Hah?” he growled questioningly.
Dice hummed in affirmation, “Yeah I know right? Been beefing us up all this time. Kinda a reason why I’m at Riou-san’s more often lately, gotta keep the energy up with his healthy full course meals. Man, now I really get why you guys were called legends, Ramuda is merciless!”
He paused, unsure whether relief would be the right description to how he felt. “…The three of ya been trainin’?
“Well duh? It’s been two weeks. Ain’t no way we gonna mope around. We gotta train even harder so I can beat that spineless office worker next time I see him. Ain’t no way those wolves are getting away easily now.”
Huh…
“Oi.”
Ramuda remained seated, hunched in a corner hugging both his legs as his head dipped with an invisible weight of defeat.
“Tch. We gotta move.”
“And go where?” He asked in a hollowed voice, omitted of any emotion.
Samatoki shrugged despite knowing full well Ramuda wouldn’t see it. “Somewhere, anywhere.”
Ramuda remained still, lazily opening and closing his eyes as if dozing off. But this dump is nowhere for anyone to doze off, not even for losers like them had they been left longer with the thugs that jumped on them. Together they’re strong, together they’re legends, but when a rift opens between them and distrust poisons their bonds, each are thrown back to square one with only themselves to fend against the hounds. It was just a matter of luck, or a calculated change of mind from the smaller man, to come to his aid despite the knowing expression he had when the chicks from Chuuoku came interfering.
“It’s pointless.” Came a murmur. Samatoki watched as Ramuda hugged his knees closer and buried his head on the small gap, away from reality, away from the truth.
He asked, “What is?”
And Ramuda answered in a heartbeat, “Us.”
Samatoki looked on as the gambler resumed his meal, then to his right as he reminisced clearly the absence of warmth that hadn’t been fully welcomed back then, along with the infuriating bubble-gum smell he had just finally grown accustomed to. Right before their end.
So you really did change that much… to think you’d never become a stranger twice…
Ah… he remembers now, how sensei spoke to him about Ramuda’s new teammates right before the first division battle with their new crews, claiming that it seems Ramuda had found some unlucky people to drag down.
He closed his eyes in defeat, in acceptance of a loss he couldn’t had come to terms all those months ago. “Take care of him.”
“Hah? Yeah of course, I’m his teammate duh! We’re supposed to take care of each other.”
Heh… “Oi Riou!” Samatoki called out, his voice rising higher than he intended. He was happy, he was relieved. And with a big sincere smile that finally hides no twinge of sadness and regret, “Give this guy another serving would ya? Looks like he could use another.”
He returned Dice’s happy smile with another of his own, arm reaching out to pat the gambler firmly on the back. Thank you.
Looks like you’re wrong again sensei. They’re good for him, and he’s good for them. At the very least, they cherished what we hadn’t.
+++
A few short months after Matenrou’s victory comes another battle season. All division leaders and their crew once again stepped foot on Chuuoku the very same day.
Months prior Samatoki almost couldn’t recognize any trace of the Ramuda he once knew during their Dirty Dawg era. The annoying fake bubbly attitude? Sure. That barely changed, it just got even more fucking faker. But any trace of sincerity? Gone. All gone.
But all of his previous judgement and worries are once again wiped out when Ramuda greeted him and laughed. He changed yet again…
“Hi again, Mr Hardcore!” Dice waved, showing just as big of a smile as Ramuda. “Hey Mr cop, Riou-san!”
From the corner of his eyes Jyuto and Riou both stepped forward and returned the gambler’s greeting.
“Oh?” Ramuda voiced. Samatoki felt his breath hitch. That was…
While Ramuda still pitched his voice octaves higher, this one… this one sounded more natural.
“I didn’t know you’re close with MTC, Dice!”
Dice laughed, “Riou-san has been taking great care of me a lot lately!” turning to Riou, “No hard feelings after the battle, right, Riou-san?”
“Never,” Riou smiled.
Too preoccupied with their exchange he didn’t realize until Ramuda tugged at his sleeves, “Sa-ma-to-ki~”
“Hey,” He greeted back, tone lacking any anger he usually displays.
Samatoki was a man with pride and it was because of that pride he had failed to reach out to the retreating friend, pushed away the one kid who sincerely admired him, and complicates his acquaintanceship with the doctor. In the end the one at fault is…
“Samatoki looks scary when he thinks!” Ramuda exclaimed.
Eyes twitching in annoyance he tugged at Ramuda’s collar, earning himself another ear piercing exclaim. But nothing come to mind, not when he finally meets Ramuda again. All the things he wanted to say.
The designer of course noticed it too, softly holding his hand and undoing the grasp. “Sama-chan just be Sama-chan, alright?” he whispered.
They all had a baggage to carry, a dark past to cover, but three out of four of them hadn’t truly given up on everything. One of them has and that person disappeared without a trace.
It’s not enough…
“Dice, Gentaro~” Ramuda called out, waving his hands frantically. “We gotta go sign in~”
Dice groaned, “Shut it, Ramuda. You just want to flirt with your onee-sans.”
Twirling in his step, Ramuda winked, “Why of course that too! Right, right, Gentaro?”
And the writer who had been on a conversation with Jyuto looked up and sighed, “I suppose we do need some refreshments. My throat is parched from having a lovely conversation with a respectable police officer.”
Jyuto chuckled loudly, “Some nerve I see you have there, Yumeno-san. I’d keep my guard up if I were you.”
Gentaro hummed, “We shall see. It’s not often that those who claims to be in justice’s path emerges as the victor. Farewell.”
“Damn…” Dice commented. “Well! Riou-san! I’ll see ya on the stage!”
Riou nodded, returning the wave.
“Ahaha!” An all too familiar giggle resounded on his side, “Dice, Gentaro, save your stamina for later, geez!”
“Oi.” Samatoki called out.
Ramuda tilted his head up to give Samatoki another smile that finally… finally reaches his eyes. “I’ll see you soon before the fight, Sama-chan! Gotta give you my extra, Ramuda-special goodluck charm! Let’s hope you’ll put up a better fight this time, right, Sa-ma-to-ki~”
“Hmph, don’t get your hopes up squirt.”
Ramuda laughed, looking more pleased. “Sama-chan is Sama-chan after all~”
+++
It would be an understatement to say he was the least surprised out of the two when he encountered Ramuda somewhere backstage just mere minutes before their battle. He was looking for the former who in turn waited for him in a place they both knew they’d cross paths.
Samatoki started, taking a deep breath as Ramuda idly leaned on the wall just a few inches ahead. “You really changed, huh?”
Ramuda unwrapped a lollipop, humming in return, “Everyone changes, Samatoki.”
He sighed, “Are you happy? With those two teammates of yours?”
“Did I ever show I’m not?” Ramuda pushed himself off the wall and began pacing around, looking anywhere but him. “I know what you mean.” He said in a quieter tone, “You’re always the transparent type, Samatoki.”
“What do I mean then?”
Ramuda stopped. “I’m still with them.”
“They know?” He was itching for another smoke, a habit he can never really thwart off no matter how serious the situation is. If anything like the Dirty Dawg happens all over again…
Out of all things, he didn’t expect Ramuda to laugh. Genuinely laugh. “Sama-chan are you worried for me?”
Course I am…
He continued, “It’s all right,” Ramuda said, wiping a tear from his eye. “They’re different. It surprised me too, Sama-chan. But they…” he quietened down, “Dice and Gentaro accepted me…”
And you accepted them back, Samatoki wished to say. But it was something the both of them are already aware of. Ramuda’s not that oblivious to his own feelings, regardless of how much he tries to ignore it.
Samatoki looked away, memories of a night resurfacing in his mind, “If I said something… that night…”
Once the rain stopped and it was evident that neither Jakurai nor Ichiro would show up, of course they wouldn’t, not after everything that happened, the two of them went out for another round of drinks before deciding to call it a night.
Ramuda calmly sits just a few inches ahead of him on the bed, shoulders down and back facing him. It was a calm Samatoki neither like nor dislike. There was no trace of the fake persona, or the complaints of their incoming hangovers.
It was unnerving, but he was also patient just this once. And patience didn’t prepare him for what came next.
In a swift turn, Ramuda reached over and pressed their lips together.
Samatoki had half a mind to balance the cigarette on his fingers. It was rough. It was fast. It was meaningless.
They parted and Ramuda wasn’t looking at him yet his fingers stayed, just barely grazing the skin on Samatoki’s face.
“It’s bitter.” Ramuda commented before he hopped off and sauntered away with an attempt to seem uncaring but Samatoki never once did miss the way Ramuda wouldn’t stop trembling.
“If I had told you to stay –”
“And talk it out?” Ramuda interrupted, Samatoki turned to look at him only to see eyes unbelievably blank and an expressionless face, “and… slept together?”
No. Samatoki didn’t want that, that wasn’t what he meant. No, that would be manipulative of him. After what had just occurred between Ramuda and Jakurai, if Samatoki just…
“No.”
Ramuda’s face fell – yet his expression was still unnerving – and he tilted his head. “If you had asked then I would have.”
Lie. Ramuda wouldn’t have. That Ramuda wouldn’t have.
Ramuda hastily jammed his feet into his shoes in the dark, trying to create as little noise yet causing as much unnecessary ruckus with how frantic he was, until Samatoki walked out and flicked on the switch. It didn’t work to no one’s surprise but it didn’t waver the smaller man and Ramuda resorted to unlocking the door with a few attempts and storming out with half worn shoes as Samatoki stood there and watched as the door close once again.
“You wouldn’t.” He uttered.
“I would if you ask now.”
“And I wouldn’t.”
“Why?” Ramuda took a step closer and Samatoki wanted, instinctively, to step back but his heart held his ground. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Another step. “I’m still not enough?”
And you’re still not over Jakurai are you, Samatoki thought.
Ramuda snarled, lip raising to show his sharp teeth harnessed from all those lollipops he loves biting so much. “You’re–”
“You’re more than that you know.” He said softly, a hand reaching out towards Ramuda before stopping, “More than this.”
“Than what?” Ramuda spat venomously. If you dare shatter this illusion…
I dare.
+++
Samatoki watched on in annoyance as Ramuda danced around the flock of women, pleasing every single one of them and taking their considerations into heart, being their little sentient doll.
He remained a silent spectator as well whenever Ramuda tried to please Jakurai but to no avail.
“Hey, hey, Jakurai~” Samatoki heard Ramuda’s infuriating voice floating over from the other room.
“Come over tonight?”
The grip he had on his glass unknowingly became tighter, leaving some finger stains.
“This is quite sudden, Ramuda-kun, I’m afraid I have a few patients needing my assis–”
“But you’ll make time for me, won’t you? Right? Ja-ku-rai~”
A few shuffling was audible then the sound of a crumpled paper being shoved over, followed by sensei’s surprised voice, “Is this… it can’t be… I was certain I…”
Their voice lowered but Samatoki could still make out a few, “You’ll help me won’t you, Jakurai?” Ramuda persisted. Even without visuals Samatoki could already vision Jakurai sighing lightly, already won over by their teammate’s bubbly, doting attitude.
“Ramuda-kun… I’ve sworn off–”
A few hushes heard and no more than a minute later Jakurai gave a clear affirmative. “Please. Do not make me regret this, Ramuda-kun.”
“Haha! Have a little more faith in me Jakurai!” Ramuda cheered, emerging from the hallway Jakurai and he had holed themselves into for the past few minutes. “I know my onee-sans well!”
Samatoki remained silent throughout, even hours later when the two discovered to have fallen for a trap by their common enemy. He didn’t notice how Jakurai never looked at Ramuda the same again until the damage has been done.
+++
There was just too many… too many things he missed, too many things he’s only realizing now. Too many things too late…
“You don’t have to please every single person,” that matters to you, Samatoki couldn’t bring himself to say.
“I never planned to.” Ramuda growled. “Looks like you never knew me either Samatoki. He spat as he spread out his hands and in a manic laugh, “They are the ones pleasing me with their requests, their needs. You think I’m the puppet when it’s just the opposite! Just like the rest of this fucking world!”
You don’t need every single one of them to find your own purpose. “And if you ask,” Samatoki say, “then I would stay. Even if the Dirty Dawg is no more. I’d stay.”
Ramuda opened his mouth but Samatoki continued. “Even if you ask now.”
Seconds pass and Ramuda had his hands down, shoulders dropped and an empty gaze casted to the floor as the gears in his mind turn once more, painfully, at what Samatoki could only wish to be at a hopeful future.
“You wouldn’t.” Ramuda replied in a small hollowed whisper.
“I would.”
He swiped his arm between them, showing just how vehemently he meant his words. “I don’t need you!”
Samatoki didn’t falter either. “But I can offer you company.” Or a semblance of our happier days.
Ramuda visibly gritted his teeth, expression growing more painful than before. “What do you want Samatoki?” Frustration, anger, all of it strongly present in his words.
“What I hope you’re willing to give.”
Ramuda flicked his eyes at him, curious, prodding, tension dissipating from his shoulders.
And then he smiled, eyes turning soft into a mere delusion as he began to walk without making a single footfall and linked their mouths together.
Samatoki didn’t resist him nor did he push him away either. In a way he missed it, in a way he craved it, in a way he despised it. He doesn’t crave for the fake sweetness or the empty emotionless despair. There was nothing left for him and yet he still…
Ramuda pulled away. “I’m willing to give yet you still refuse to take it…” Ramuda huskily mumbled just a few centimetres away from his face. In a blink, his eyes turned sharp once more and in a deeper voice, “or are you still unsure what you want?”
“I know.” Samatoki replied. “Just not how exactly it can work.”
Ramuda stopped linking his arms behind Samatoki’s neck and walked a few steps back as their eyes remained glued at one another. He opened his mouth but Samatoki blurted it out before a word from the smaller man could be uttered.
“Closure.”
Ramuda frowned and tilted his head in confusion.
“Closure.” He repeated. “I want closure.”
Sighing, Ramuda shrugged, “Then you’re gonna have to ask Ichiro and that waste of oxygen human. Too bad Sama-chan I don’t wanna be in the same room with one of them.”
Samatoki shook his head, “Not that. Not from them. Not the Dirty Dawg.” trying to ignore the burning in his veins when Ichiro’s name–that traitor–was mentioned or the personal grudge mixed with gratitude he had for sensei. “Just from you.”
“…I am never. Ever. Going back to those days.”
“And no one is asking you to. …But we could always start over.” It was a hope, a promise, a hand reaching out hoping the other would take it. It was a thank you.
Ramuda looked away, eyes closed, a sad smile grazing his lips, “That is a nice thought…” he softly said before he turned around and left.
Samatoki could have, if he wanted to, which he did–but something held him back–to stop Ramuda from walking away again even if he knows its futile, even if he knows it’s never the right time… that this wasn’t what Ramuda would have wanted. The game is long from ending and they’re just two pieces forced to carry on till the very end.
He remained right where he stood, not daring to move until Ramuda finally left his sight. It’s over. There’s nothing left to say or to ask. The message was clear, there was nothing left in the past to salvage. This is their present and with every step they reshape their future.
Turning around he made his way back where he came from, before meeting with his ex-teammate. For now, he has a team to go back to.
“On the stage… FLING POSSE!”
Ignoring the cheers as best as he could, as much as he allows himself to accept their situation…
If that is what it takes… he felt around his pocket for his inactivated mic, if that is what it takes to help you…
“Ready?” Jyuto asked once they caught sight of him entering MTC’s waiting room.
“Ah.” He gruffed.
“And on the stage… MAD TRIGGER CREW!”
The three of them veterans paid the roaring crowd no mind, walking forward with individual confidence and a goal in sight. Locking eyes with Fling Posse and uttering their battle jeers, malicious smiles promising harm towards one another, hands holding their mics raised, activating…
He looked at his crew one last time, three of them sharing a look promising victory, then at the gambler from Shibuya, Arisugawa Dice, and the author, Yumeno Gentaro. The three members of Fling Posse didn’t share a look with one another but the way they carried themselves, the confident shoulders, victory is already etched in their hearts regardless of the result.
He looked at the crowd, knowing just where to look from experience, easily spotting a hooded Ichiro on Fling Posse’s side of the crowd, very close to the corner; to somewhere in the back, where he detects a calm expecting gaze from none other than Jakurai, just barely visible from the dim lighting.
At long last, he finally turned to look at the leader from Shibuya. Ramuda smiled, and Samatoki returned it just as viciously, uttering his final promise. …Then you should know I’d do it in a heartbeat.
No one really abandons you, but even if they do, I’ll still be there.