Chapter Text
The only time where the infamous Aohitsugi Samatoki will ever admit that Amemura Ramuda is cute is when the man himself had been inebriated by said person from a supposedly harmless drinking challenge.
With unfocused eyes he could barely make out all the strands of hair, that were undeniably pink, clouding his vision with ridiculous fluffiness. He was the least bit pleasantly surprised when the familiar scent of berries caught up to his senses and like puzzle pieces coming into an unsatisfying click, I’m going to kill him, is the first coherent thought he made that morning.
“Oi,” he rasped, nudging at the unwelcomed meat slab the action proved to become increasingly strenuous with his supposedly drinking partner sprawled on top of him. “Get off.”
And only by the fifth nudge did the aforementioned meat slab finally showed signs of being alive other than laboured breathing.
“Ugh… shit.” Samatoki uttered, placing a hand over his eyes to block out the unforgiving sunlight, his headache becoming even more persistent by the passing second but he couldn’t find the strength to move from his current position despite being uncomfortable.
But eventually, the pain outrides his will to stay in bed and he finally sat up, glancing around the room–the bedroom door is wide open as if the two of them had just stumbled in drunkenly only to collapse on the bed-and everything else except the wide opened door seemed normal.
It was more than obvious that his entire predicament is connected to the only culprit with a mind deranged enough to dye one’s hair pink. Samatoki never bought the it’s my real hair colour you’re just mean bullshit and never will despite never having caught him actually dyeing his hair.
He wouldn’t put it past the guy to drug his drink despite keeping a close eye on it, the possibility becoming more certain as blurred memories of the situation they’re currently in brought itself present in his mind.
But the more he began to blame Ramuda, the more uneasiness settled in him. Flashes of images come and go before finally settling on…
Shit.
In a haste, he didn’t give a thought when he shoved Ramuda off him or that he’s still wearing his shoes indoors as he padded through the hall into the room just at the end. He knocked as much as he could as more memories came rushing in.
Eventually he slowed down, knuckles barely rasping the door as another hand reached out to twist the knob, praying that it’s locked. It wasn’t.
And the room was empty.
Ah… That’s right…
The little demon having forcefully dragged him to the inconspicuous bar in Yokohama, particularly one that is isolated. Samatoki doubt it was just a coincidence. It wouldn’t be a huge surprise if a yakuza leader was found dead in his own territory in a secluded bar. But Samatoki knows the cards in his hands and the subtle warnings had been enough.
He did everything he could for her. It’s dangerous enough as is for her being the little sister of a gang leader. And Samatoki has bars to uphold, to maintain, an equilibrium he can’t stake. But most of all, he can’t have Nemu as his enemy.
This was his last and safest resort. He bitterly scoffed at no one but himself, leave it to him to have the least sensible mind, to purposely step out of the line and put a big target sign on his back. To say it’s the safest is perhaps an understatement, very much so, for it wasn’t, not in the slightest bit. But the one that guarantees the most result. There is no grey shade, only a simple success or die.
And that’s what he thought, what he strongly hoped. But Amemura Ramuda never once did pass up the chance to baffle just about anyone regardless of the circumstance or what’s at stake. Their lives. Their nation. Their sanity.
But the very fact that he is alive, that Ramuda is right there with him means that he still has time, no matter how short it may be. If this a chance, he wondered to himself, then…
He walked back to his room, three aspirin pills and a glass of water on hand, one for himself and another two for the pink slob on his bed.
“Samatoki?”
Right. Samatoki stilled for a few seconds before it dawned on him that the voice came from behind and a few rustles were heard and he stopped to see Ramuda sitting up with his jacket beginning to slip from his small shoulders. The voice sounded foreign to him but not enough to be ominous nor deep enough.
“Am just gonna get ya some water or can ya swallow these dry?”
“Mmhm…” Ramuda hummed as he stretched, not even looking at the pills in hand, and by then the jacket completely slipped and fell onto the duvet.
“Whatever, go clean up. I’ll be outside.” Samatoki placed everything on the table before making his way to the kitchen.
He located his phone thrown on the sofa and picked it up. 10:42 the time read, along with multiple notifications from Ichiro and Jakurai.
Ichiro who mainly asked who won whilst Jakurai’s article worth of paragraphed texts consisted of reprimands to keep Ramuda in check and to not go too crazy with the drinking, something about their kidneys failing and to come to him if the hangovers got really bad.
Samatoki growled mainly to himself because that implies that neither Ichiro nor Jakurai had been the one to get both Ramuda and himself into Samatoki’s else that would be any other indication that someone else aside from drunkards who had sloppily entered the premise.
What the hell happened after…
His thoughts were cut short when a giant text reading Doc from Shinjuku appeared. Jakurai was calling him and Samatoki instantly answered.
“Ah, good, you’re alive,” Jakurai said at the other end of the line without even waiting for Samatoki to even greet him. “I was beginning to worry that you lost your phone or something ill had happened but I’m glad you seem to be all right. How is Amemura-kun? Is he still with you, I presume, since his apartment is empty?”
And the long pause indicated that Jakurai was apparently waiting for a reply. Samatoki wanted to ask why Jakurai was even aware that Ramuda’s apartment was empty but there had been more important things to ask. “Yeah, yeah, he’s with me. Both of us are at my place.” Funny how you ask about him first, sensei.
“All is well, I presume?”
He grunted, “Aside from the stupid hungover.”
On the other end, Jakurai sighed, sounding relieved but tired. “Ah, well, that’s to be expected. Glad to see you’re doing all right, Samatoki-kun.”
“…Any reason I wouldn’t be?”
A few reshuffled papers on the other end caused temporary static and Jakurai sure took his time in replying. “Of course not,” the doc resumed. “Is Ramuda–”
“Jakurai-sensei, your patient has arrived,” A voice interrupted.
“You’re in the clinic?” Samatoki asked.
“I am, Samatoki-kun.” Jakurai replied, “Some of my patients requested an early schedule.”
His fingers moved to end the call but Jakurai wasn’t finished.
“Look after yourself, Samatoki-kun.” Before lightly adding, “And keep an eye on Ramuda-kun too would you?”
He hummed, “Any reason why I should?”
A chuckle. “It seems more unfavourable individuals are willing to challenge us. It’s best to keep our health as our best interest. I’ll see you later, Samatoki-kun.” And the call ended.
As if that’s all you know.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around. Ramuda still dressed in yesterday’s sweater stood in front of him. “Sa-ma-to-ki~” he cheered, “Morning~”
It hadn’t been clear to him a few minutes prior but standing in front of the man himself only did Samatoki notice just how seemingly tired the other is. “Last night…”
Ramuda shook his head, “You’ll get your answer soon enough. That is… if Sama-chan stays still.”
“I told you… You can’t expect me to do nothing when Nemu–”
“This isn’t something you can win,” All cheery façade faded and Samatoki found himself grateful that Ramuda wasn’t fully playing around anymore. Ramuda sighed, “And my neck still hurts when you tried to choke me yesterday~”
It was nothing and they both knew it. Blinded with rage and confusion, Samatoki had rushed to their base where by some luck only Ramuda was present. The smaller man hadn’t even fully spat out his greeting when Samatoki pulled him by the collar and demanded information.
At one point, Ramuda had stopped acting and told him truthfully, both knowing that there’s not much unknown between them anymore despite lacking the evidences.
“Perfect timing,” Ramuda said, “I’ve always wanted to try going to that bar,”
What happened next was a blur but Samatoki was as prepared as he could when he decided to confront his teammate. It was then or never. And he lost.
+++
He remembered well the time he came home late at night after a particularly exhausting job. It was just a few days prior after all.
Ready to drop dead, he walked around the corner only to see light still seeping into the darkened hallway, entrancing shadows from the outside world and himself, from under Nemu’s half closed door. Samatoki had long taught her to always lock her doors and to just call for him since she had always been quite scared of the dark and the noises lurking beneath. Given where they live, strong winds in the middle of the night is uncommon; one that would ignite unwanted fears of the past in the most unreasonable of times.
But then again, he reasoned, maybe Nemu had been waiting for him to come back. To actually return home alive and live another day with her. But that thought soon disappeared when her voice resounded in their quiet house.
“So, what do I have to do? …Yes. …yes, all right. Okay. I’ll report in two days. Thank you.”
He stood with his back pressed on the wall right beside her room, unknowing what to say. Sasara’s slight remark was foreseeing as always, just before the dirty dawg was formed, he had informed him on how Nemu made a friend, a lady seemingly in her twenties, but Samatoki had brushed it off as at that point, Nemu had been looking for connections and insisting to do a part-time and earn “clean cash” and Samatoki had to bit his tongue from saying that they’ve had enough and how no money is actually “clean”. Especially not in the world they live in. He decided to leave and go out for a smoke to shake off his arising doubt. When he returned an hour later, the lights were turned off and the door shut.
The next morning, he silently monitored her behaviour but she’s acting as she had always been, a free-spirited girl too good for this world.
“Hm? What’s wrong nii-chan?”
“Why do you look so happy? Got the job already?”
Nemu huffed but continued to twirl around in her newly bought dress. “Can’t a girl just be happy because she got up from the right side of the bed unlike someone, or, they have to be affected by the Mr Grouchy vibe coming from you?”
“Tsk.”
“You should really stop coming home late,” she uttered as she tends to the fish cooking on the pan, before adding, “It’s more dangerous out there now…”
His fingers that had been playing the edge of the napkin came to still, “You know something about it?”
“Nope!” She said, turning her head to flash him a cheerful smile that reveals nothing malicious. Perfect timing, perfect calculation, perfect measurement. Samatoki is proud of her. “Niichan, wanna go have dinner outside tonight?”
“Maybe next time, Nemu.” I have a certain someone to meet after all.
“Alrighty~”
And Samatoki wondered if he had been the one sealing his own fate.
+++
“Three strikes, Amemura.”
“Ah~ That’s because onee-san dearest is way, way, waaay too strict!” he cheerfully replied as he tugged at the relentless strings binding his arms and legs.
Ichijiku didn’t look amused and only glared with more ferocity. “What made you this rebellious?”
“Eh? I just wanna have a bit of fun onee-san…~ No harm there!” It hurts… He thought he’d be used to it by now after so many years, but a direct hit with nothing on him to defend…
Ichijiku clicked her tongue, “Is it that Jinguji?”
Ramuda stopped his rambles and stared.
“That one brat and troublesome man.”
Her voice rang amidst the constant ringing in his ears and he struggled to maintain focus, to keep his eyes open on the blinding light.
Ichijiku stomped her heel on the floor, the sound grating his ears causing him to squirm in pain, “You defied the orders you were given. Three times. Is this a sign you are turning sides?”
“No.” Ramuda replied instantly. “Never.” he reassured, more to himself than anyone in the room. But it was a blatant truth only himself could see. His actions didn’t justify his words, that he knew, that he was strongly aware and yet…
Ramuda watched as Otome stood up from the couch where she had sat in Ichijiku’s office and made her way out, her heels clacking on the marbled tiles. She had seen and heard enough. The verdict has been decided.
“Ramuda.”
He turned his head around, the only part of him aside from his fingers that he could still move with restricted freedom. Ichijiku is no longer glaring at him and yet looking at him with such disappointed eyes. His eyes stung, his vision blurry, dark spots littered his sight and it was enough to tether his remaining calm façade.
She walked towards him, stooped down and placed a firm hand on his head, tugging his hair from his scalp. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts….
“What were my orders?” she pulled tighter, and he couldn’t resist the yelp emitting from his throat. “The one order you should never. Ever. Defy.”
“N… N-Never… show mercy…”
“I will not tolerate one more rebellious act, you hear?” she reprimanded as she released him from her grasp and the pain now a subduing dull ache.
He swallowed the lump of metallic taste that conjured in his throat, “…Yes.”
+++
Jyuto took a long inhale of the cigarette kept between his lips as he eyed Samatoki, still very much cuffed and seating across of him on the interrogation chair.
“Better take care now,” the bastard cop started. “whilst your little rap crew may have fun busting so many illegal operations, don’t you think it would arouse suspicion from Chuuoku, hm?”
“The hell you talkin’ about.” Samatoki growled. “They were there pickin a fight. Served ‘em right for being such weak fucks.”
“So, tell me…” Jyuto exhaled, smoke filling up the room, clouding their vision of one another yet their gazes persisted. “Does that involve revealing hidden agendas of several of my colleagues?”
“Heh. Scared yer gonna get your ass busted you crooked cop?”
Jyuto chuckled, “Oh I definitely look forward to what my punishment shall be. If there is one, per say…”
“Masochist bastard. Go play your stupid game somewhere else and let me go, yeah?”
“Not so hasty now. As per procedure,” the bastard dragged on, “I can only let you go after another ten minutes is up and surely none of us wants it to be fruitless. So, be a good dog and have a little chat with me.”
“The fuck did you just call me? As if I would want to spend another ten fuckin minutes around the likes of you!”
The so-called officer sighed, “One more word out of you and I may have to check in with my doctor for deafness. Keep it down would you, I don’t particularly enjoy your company either, likewise. Although, do tell me one more thing.”
“Then I won’t have to see your stupid face again?”
“My, you’ll definitely see me around. Soon, perhaps, if you misbehave.”
“Tch.”
And Jyuto turned serious, his voice dipped lower into a hushed tone. “What happened to those escorted behind those walls of Chuuoku only to never be seen again?”
“Hah? The fuck should I know.”
Jyuto continued to look at him and Samatoki challengingly stared at him back. “Do you really not know?”
Inhumane stuff. “Do I look like I give a fuck about those idiots?”
Jyuto leaned back, “Fine then.” and pulled out a pair of keys.
On his way out of the room he passed by another desk a cop left unattended. On it he saw a picture of the informant a part of the rising rebel group they had just beaten a few days ago, marked, MISSING.
“Say,” Jyuto started as he unlocked the gates, “you wouldn’t happen to recognize a man called Akiyama, would you?”
“There’s tons of that name ‘ere. Be more specific.” Samatoki grunted questioningly, of course he does, that’s one of his close informants who he had recently sent to keep an eye on some certain individuals. He hadn’t heard from the man in a week.
“Ah, but I’m afraid… Simply the mere mention of his full name would be enough to get me in trouble.”
“Then drop the fucking subject.”
Jyuto stared back at him unamused, well fuck him for being so cryptic. “He was dropped off in my station recently, unconscious and very, very much traumatized. Well, I wouldn’t go into details for not only it would be breaching protocol, it’s quite horrifying to describe. But he’s alive nonetheless if that’s what you’re particularly worried about.”
“Yeah? And what’s this got to do with anything?”
The blasted cop chuckled, “My, nothing much. Quite the suspicious one, aren’t you?” tilting his chin, he continued, “You sent him, didn’t you?”
Samatoki clicked his tongue, as well as he could with a cigarette in between his teeth, and looked away.
Jyuto sighed, “Outsiders like us have no knowledge on what Chuuoku is capable of doing. Clearly, they’re more experienced with those microphones and are perfectly aware of all its capabilities. I suggest playing it safe.”
He remained still as the cop finally made a move to walk back to his car. His mind racing, trying to envision just how ruthless the punishment was when Jyuto interrupted once more.
“Another friendly advice,”
Samatoki turned to look at the cop who is only giving him a sideway glance, “Hah?”
“Keep an eye out for your sister.”
His breath hitched. Shit. Is she–
Jyuto continued, pushing up his glasses, “I presume you’re not aware… She managed to defeat a rather big group of thugs a few nights ago. Tell me, did you teach her how to rap?”
Samatoki thought his heart had skipped a beat. Nemu. Surrounded. Anger began coursing through his veins before any realization of what had just been said struck in.
“Anyway, about that man…” Jyuto continued.
“Hah?!” Akiyama?
Jyuto tipped his hat, “My condolences.”
Samatoki felt his eyes twitch. “You said he’s alive.” He said in a grave tone.
“He is.”
“Then what the fuck was that about?!” He shouted, unable to maintain his temper much longer, his thoughts frantically race to Nemu. He hadn’t checked up on her lately, accepting the fact that she doesn’t want to see his face. But her going up against strangers, or rather, targets, in unsanctioned rap battles, without him being there to protect her…
“Barely.” And Jyuto turned to look at him with a grave look which Samatoki returned it equally. “He was traumatized to the point of no return.”
Samatoki scoffed bitterly.
Jyuto pushed up his glasses and looked away. “It was a horrifying sight, may I say. He’s now in an asylum just a few districts away, I think you know where. But mind you, he’s placed under scrutinizing security, I’d forget about him if I were you.”
“…What about Nemu?”
“She’s alright. She didn’t see me, but I made sure she got back safely, to somewhere that isn’t where the two of you live.”
Samatoki sighed, relieved, “She’s staying over at a friend’s.”
Jyuto turned around, back to the station, but soon stopped in his tracks and without glancing back, waved a gloved hand and said, “I’d be careful if I were you, looks like Chuuoku is doing some spree cleaning.”
Samatoki huffed, as if I don’t know that, and turned around, now mutually having their backs facing another.
And as he made his way out the vicinity, he could hear Jyuto’s words echoing as a firm reminder, “Our prison cells are surely better than what they do to misfits beyond those walls.”
+++
He hung his head dejectedly where he stood leaning on a fence in the neighbourhood, his fingers tapping the screen to dial Nemu once more and once again he was greeted with nothing but an automated voice.
“Niichan, you’re just being stupid!” Nemu screamed as she swatted his hand away and stormed out the door despite him calling for her.
It didn’t take too long for him to find her staying over at a friend’s house. He knew better than to barge in calling out for her, if anything it would only make her hate him more. As long as it’s someone they were both familiar with, Samatoki reasoned with himself, it’s all right to let her stay there, out of his reach.
But he did see her through the window occasionally peering back and that was enough for then.
+++
Ramuda saw the way Samatoki eyed the drink he offered. It wasn’t a suspicious look, it had been more of an acceptance, an agreement, one they both tacitly made. The price he knew fully well had to be taken. Ramuda felt the urge to cheerfully say that he would never for the life of him poison Samatoki. Unless he was ordered to at least.
But Samatoki scoffed before he could even utter another word, “This better taste good.”
He knew.
But too bad, really, for it was just a tasteless truth serum.
Samatoki dropped his weight on the table, shaking, and spilling some of their drinks. Ramuda ignored the ruckus and continued to stare at the distance, an empty wall with neither window nor clock to tell the time. They should be here soon. Ramuda was ready to do just as he had been told, if Samatoki is deemed dangerous then Ramuda would leave just a few moments before they entered. If not then, he shall stay. Stay to draw out more information out of him until they made their judgement.
“She means the whole world to me… She really does… There is no way I would be able to–” he laughed bitterly; eyes drooping low as if he’s trying to hold back tears. “Hah… All this time it seems I was the one who was dependent on her after all. It was never the other way around.”
Ramuda idly switched tabs from his social media page, to his chats with his onee-sans then back to his page; all the while monitoring the small icon on top that indicates audio recording.
“I… urgh…” Placing a hand over his mouth it’s seemingly that he was trying to regain full control of his conscience, to prevent any more of his truth spilling out.
But too bad, Ramuda thought as he eyed his teammate from the corners of his eyes, it’s the most effective one there is.
Decades of testing and research was what had discovered it’s true potent. He would never–
A groan, “You done yet?” and the words were soon spoken much clearer than ever as if the man wasn’t intoxicated from the start.
“What are you talking about Samatoki~” he cheerfully replied. “I’ve been listening all this time like a good friend!”
“Yeah… right.” He scoffed lightly, dipping his head low with visible nausea before he solemnly asked, “Any time now, huh?”
And it was all it took for the flowery demeanour to dissipate.
Samatoki pushed a hand over his hair, tugging it backwards with the hope that the gel is still keeping it together but not caring if it looked like a nest anymore. “I’ll be glad to talk about my sister all night long but why don’t we cut the chase and save ourselves some crap?”
Ramuda reassessed the man beside him carefully, slowly and calculating. Finally putting his phone down, he fully turned, prepared to give his entire attention. They can wait. “What do you know about us?”
“Nothing none of ya didn’t make public.”
Ramuda glared. “Hey, Samatoki… what do you think of the world? The change. What if people, humans, could make that happen. Having the whole world under your feet and no one will ever be able to take that away?
“I don’t give a shit.”
Typical. That was the very first word that came to his mind the moment Samatoki uttered those very words. It was indeed very typical of the yakuza to say such a thing, for someone tired of the world except for his only family. The very words that Ramuda himself had once uttered to a certain someone when asked about the world. No, for all his actions that were deemed “true” by the doctor doesn’t cover the greed and ambition in him. Or rather, the lack of it, if given a new perspective. He doesn’t know either and he’s never been one to dwell on his own darkness.
He should have known since the beginning that it was futile to place such high hopes even on someone who he thought would understand the imbalance of the world.
Ramuda calmly took the last glass into his grasp, chugging it in one go.
In the end…
Samatoki groaned painfully, gritting his teeth as he pushed against the drug, “Are you really happy working for them? Whatever the cost is–urgh!”
The one who never fails to surprise while being so predictable…
Beside him, Samatoki lightly gagged but managed to hold it in last minute. Fuck this dizziness, Ramuda could just imagine him cursing inwardly.
He sighed, hoisted his legs over the stool, landing lightly on the wooden floor, began to walk, when he was tugged back. His sleeve was being clenched by a certain drunkard. “Ah ah~ I gotta go greet my onee-san by the door~”
Samatoki only tugged stronger, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, “She means a lot to me.”
“Eh?” He trailed on, “Sama-chan, I’m gonna call Jakurai okay? Ah, ah, drinking together is such a bad idea, you’re the one who’s supposed to carry me not the other way around!”
He pulled again, nearly tearing the sleeve, “Help me. I know you fuckin’ well know what I mean. Don’t let them take her I…”
Ramuda felt the tiny ounce of pity he thought he could never feel for the other man, the now drunken yakuza leader who in mere moments would be taken away. Away into the confines of their lair and never to be seen again. That, is how Chuuoku operates. No one can hope to live once they got on their bad side.
Animosity from Chuuoku always comes with a price after all… A price now someone has to pay.
“Please.” Samatoki begged.
“It won’t matter.” replied Ramuda.
“Please.” Samatoki began shaking his head, a bit too erratic given his current state and Ramuda amusingly wondered if soon Samatoki would lean too much and fully lost his balance. “Please don’t take her.” Ah how fun it would be to see his friend on the floor like that… weeping for something that can no longer be helped…
It’s not something he’d like to see.
No. Ramuda closed his eyes, ushering an unwanted voice from a non-foreign memory back to its cage, shook off the grip on his arm and walked towards the door.
Ramuda looked back, once, just once, for a split second to see the extremely rare look of his teammate being so open that it would be too easy for any enemies to take him on. Too easy. Samatoki’s debauched words still rang in his mind, the frailest he has ever seen the man. And Ramuda in a rare moment, had an ounce of pity left to spare.
It was too late when he realized his mic was on hand, activated…
+++
“Samatoki-san!” Ichiro protested again.
“Ahaha!” Ramuda chimed in, “Ichiro-chan should just relax! We all deserve a treat from one and only Mr Hardcore, no, no? We just won another territory battle!”
“Keep your fucking voice down,” Samatoki growled. Thanks to a certain loudmouth they were earning even more curious stares from the other guests. So much for being unnoticed. As if they weren’t already so out of place with their appearance in a high class one, which is, courtesy of himself, and he’d be damned if he covers for everyone which he doesn’t have a single doubt he would given the pitiful look Jakurai kept throwing on him. Bastard.
“I said I’m only covering for Ichiro, you mangy undersized mop.” He said regardless.
“Samatoki-san!” Ichiro called out once more, leaning close to him as Ramuda continued to cry onto Jakurai who took it all with a happily resigned sigh. “Samatoki-san.”
Persistent brat. But that is what he liked about Ichiro anyway and by the day his pride for the boy only grows. “Just this once Ichiro. Man up and say I owe you one Samatoki-sama.”
Ichiro laughed, really, such a brat, “As if! I’m splitting. I’m not backing down anymore, Samatoki-san.”
That settles it, and he would say it himself had he not spotted someone on the side view scoffing at them, “Hah? Ya got a problem, bastard?”
And that was all it took for Ramuda to finally quiet down and the other three looked at where Samatoki was glaring at.
Unlike the usual crooks, they smiled, no, sneered. “Isn’t it a bit too much for an infamous yakuza to be trampled down by a bunch of nobodies, treating a bunch of hoodlums for dinner in a fancy place like this, have you no shame?”
“Not anymore once I carve out that fucking face of yours.” He growled.
“Samatoki.” Jakurai spoke up, his deep voice reverberating through the thick air, warning him on how they’ve attracted too much attention to themselves by his outburst.
But it was late, as always, and the first punch has been shortly delivered as the body trampled over a nearby table, ensuing screams from the bystanders.
“Ah~ Ah~” he heard Ramuda hummed amidst the blood boiling in his head, “There he goes again~”
And the sound of another chair dragged over the floor followed by an alarmed, “Samatoki-san!”
“Why you…” the man growled as his partner propped him up. “You–”
Raging on blindly he grasped the hem of the man’s shirt, the other arm raising for another blow that will hopefully give the bastard a concussion, only to be held back by a firm grip belonging to the only other person he knows aside from Ichiro.
“Sensei…” he growled.
“Samatoki-kun,” Jakurai replied as calmly as ever, “People are watching. It won’t do any good to ruin the atmosphere fur–”
“Hah!” The man in front of him barked, “Just like a dog being held by a leash!”
And it was all it took for his patience to snap; breaking free from Jakurai’s grasp and lunging forward once more when a scream pierced his ears and he looked at a neighbouring family, the mother trying to hush her child as she looked back and forth at him in fear.
All anger rushed out of him the more he witnessed the mother’s frightened gaze. This wasn’t what he wanted, this was never what he wanted, this wasn’t what Nemu had wanted for him either.
Samatoki looked back at the bastards still butt planting on the floor and spat, “Don’t ever come near us again,” before he made his way out the back door.
A few minutes pass and he could dimly hear the manager coaxing the other customers to not panic while Jakurai’s voice was loud enough to be heard as he ushered away the, no doubt, two people that had picked a fight on them. Samatoki wouldn’t put it past that man to not heal their enemies especially in the eyes of the crowd. Ichiro trying to calm down the children that had began crying while assuring the parents that they mean no harm. And that leaves him with…
With as much bubbly spirit anyone could ever emit in their movements, Ramuda bounced to his side, an image fitting the imaginary sparkles he seems to carry around. “You’re such a big brute,” he commented uncaringly, “Jakurai got through to them so you’ll be able to go back if you promise not to create such a fuss! What made you back down anyway? Just because a family was staring at you? You were doing so well beating up those no-good fellas!”
Just hearing Ramuda’s fakey voice was more than enough to give him a headache for the night. He sighed as one of his hands reached into his pockets trying to dig out the familiar new pack he always put as a precaution. But something in him made him hesitate and his fingers stilled as it brushed over the laminated cover.
That, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Ramuda’s piercing stare that seems to judge his every step and calculating just when Samatoki would make another mistake. “Eh? What’s this? Sama-chan if you wanna smoke you don’t have to worry about setting a bad example, you know~”
“As if you don’t smoke yourself,” he grumbled.
“Precisely!”
Samatoki wasn’t looking at him but he was sure that Ramuda is just waiting for him to finally get a grip of himself and tore out the cover and take a fucking smoke. But he couldn’t.
His very thoughts, as if read by that certain someone, was voiced out just mere seconds later. “Just go smoke already!”
“No.”
Ramuda frowned, puffing out his cheeks like a child would when they couldn’t get their favourite candy. “Then let’s go ba–”
“Not today.” Samatoki clarified, clicked his tongue and looked away. “She never liked me smoking anyway.”
“It’s not like she would know.” he rolled his eyes.
Samatoki scoffed, “Not like someone like you would understand.”
Ramuda frowned.
“You know, sometimes I really did wonder if the person I became was the one that drove her away. She deemed me necessary to save and I just…” he moved to cover his eyes with his sleeve, the only thing he could afford to do at that moment as he brokenly whispered, “I’m just a big brute, aren’t I?”
Ramuda stomped his foot. “Don’t go quoting me!”
“Isn’t that’s what you just said–”
“And I hate it when Sama-chan says it back! Hate it, hate it, hate it!”
Instead of retorting, he simply sighed, too tired to continue their pointless conversation. It was futile from the start. His thoughts drifted back to Nemu. No one from the Dirty Dawg except Ramuda knows about it. But then again, he still doesn’t have any solid proof that Ramuda is a part of it all, even though he knows the truth.
With Nemu away, he’s been spending more and more time with the others. Ichiro, of course, took it really well and made it a time for more practice. Jakurai didn’t say anything as they made more meeting schedules throughout the week. And Ramuda didn’t change the slightest bit.
“How is she?” the words left his mouth before he could register the thought.
Ramuda didn’t dodge it, to his surprise, and hummed, “She’s making progress.”
“Who taught her?”
Bright blue eyes turned to look at him, it showed no emotion whatsoever and yet it felt comforting in a way. But all comfort dispersed when he replied. “You.”
Samatoki tensed. No. He never–
“She’s sometimes there you know. When you’re not watching. Jakurai and I saw her a couple times already when we were guarding your rear sides. She learned by watching.”
…Has it really been that long. And he didn’t notice it even once–
Ramuda shrugged, “Jakurai talked to her that time but all she said was that she wished you’d just stop lunging yourself into danger like tha–”
“And that’s why she left? That’s why she decided to join Chuuoku? They’re the ones that made those mics–”
“And we are the ones utilizing it.” Ramuda cuts in, his voice turning deeper with every syllable and his look darkened. “Those mics were meant for us. You know that, right, Samatoki? For the rest of the fools to annihilate themselves like the pathetic–”
“You’re saying she’s safer there?” he straightened himself, stepped away from the wall and turning his back at Ramuda. “That they can keep her safer than me? Because if that is…” he looked back, back at his teammate who’s simply waiting for him to make a misstep with his next words, “Then I’ll let her go.”
+++
It was Jakurai’s idea that they should fight in pairs, one team as defence and the other offense. They take turns in deciding who’s in which, depending on their bloodlusts for the day. Except for that moment.
It’s not to anyone’s surprise that with the rise of their crew, more and more grew threatened and issued challenges for their territory. With the name they were making by the day and night, fuelled by the ruckus Samatoki apparently made the other day, really, it was to no one’s surprise.
Reaching his destination, Samatoki called out. “Oi.”
From where he was seated atop one of the containers, Ramuda continued playing with that phone of his but hummed in question.
“Come with me on patrol tonight.”
Finally, a side glance, “Aw, that’s sweet but Ichi-chan would feel left out~”
“He got that soccer game of his brother to go to,” Samatoki replied just as easily.
That hadn’t been a good lie and Ramuda saw right threw him with the way he looks at him with that shit eating bemused expression.
“You’re blushing.” Ramuda sneered, “If you only wanted a date surely you can choose a more romantic spot! Leave it to Ramuda to do all the work!” tucking his phone somewhere he hopped off and skip steps to where Jakurai was sitting with his paperwork.
It only needed a few seconds hearing the way someone walk to know who’s approaching him. Samatoki sighed, trying to come up with some excuses to deter the brat but settled for a cigarette just as he approached him. “Hey Samatoki-san?”
He gruffly hummed in response, turning slightly to look at the brat that approached him.
“Is there something going on with you and Ramuda?”
“Yeah?” he said, lighting his cigarette, “What made ya say so?”
Shuffling on his feet, hands going in and out of his pockets, Ichiro just looked like the classic nervous kid cornering a thug unarmed, “I… I dunno it’s just that lately you two are sort of glaring at each other.”
“Heh. Do we now?” His eyes flicked to where the said man and doctor was standing, or rather where one was standing and the former hopping onto the latter’s back in a seemingly undiscussed piggy back.
“Anyway…” Ichiro looked away. “About tonight–”
Samatoki took the chance to ruffle the kid’s head. “Fuck off alright? That ain’t no place for kids.”
“I’m not a kid!” Ichiro vehemently protested. “How many times do I have to prove–”
“You’re not strong enough.”
“Those bastards sent a threat to us, Samatoki-san!” Ichiro shouted. “Challenging us as the Dirty Dawg! Just because there’s more than yesterday, you can’t just take on all of them without me.”
Samatoki sighed and looked at the other two members again. They sure don’t seem fazed, he thought. As they should be, he contradicts himself. “Trust me. We don’t need you lagging us out there. Just stick with the plan. You stay with sensei.”
He persisted, “I wanna fight too! It’s near Ikebukuro, that is just a few meters away from my territory!”
“It’s near. Doesn’t mean that it’s in your territory.”
“I–I… I practiced.” I’m sorry Ichiro, Samatoki thought as the boy looked at the ground once more clenching his fists. “You can’t just keep on pushing me to the side like this, Samatoki!”
Eliminating the -san, huh… Samatoki bemusedly thought. He deserves it. “Just listen to me for this one, Ichiro.” I can’t endanger you too.
Ichiro quiets down but his gaze didn’t waver, it only grows more untrusting by the second. “This has something to do with Ramuda doesn’t it?”
Samatoki took a long drag from his cigarette, patted Ichiro on the head before stubbing it out and began walking away.
Dimly he could hear Ichiro dejectedly muttering, “I want to be strong too…”
“So~” Ramuda started, skipping around as they took their position in the designated battle area which as decided would be the container yard just beside the sea. “How did Ichi-chan react, you big, big, meanie?”
He clicked his tongue, “Petty. But he’s a brat. He’ll get used to it.”
“Geez, he admired you, you know? It’s not everyday anyone can fight alongside their idol.”
I’m no one’s idol. “He’ll grow out of it.”
Sighing, Ramuda placed both his hands on his hips in a lecturing manner, “One day you’ll miss him and regret all the times you brushed him off.”
Samatoki leaned back further as much as he could, trying to keep a laxed pose despite his senses dulling but screaming at him to move. “All of this. It’s planned isn’t it?” The light in Ramuda’s eyes dimmed and once more his nerves urged him to move but Samatoki doesn’t budge.
Ramuda simply smiled a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “Being suspicious of your teammates is no good you know~”
“The other day, you asked me to go for a drink. I expected to be taken to Chuuoku. I know you know I sent an informant to look into them–”
“EH~?” Ramuda exclaimed, hands rising to cover his mouth as if he really was surprised. The action doesn’t fool the yakuza one bit. “Sama-chan! That’s dangerous you know!”
“And they sent you to get rid of me.”
Ramuda tilted his head, “Hm? Why would they, Samatoki?” his voice changing once again…
Because you’re the strongest out of all of us. That is… if sensei sticks to defence. He swallowed, drawing out the silence ensued between them. And Ramuda patiently waits with an empty smile, hands fiddling with a new lollipop.
“Sensei… sensei knows everything, doesn’t he?” he asked instead.
“Jakurai knows a lot of things. That’s the kind of person he is,” Ramuda replied, sticking the lollipop into his mouth and shrugging.
And sensei didn’t stop either of us. “Were you the one…”
“He was traumatized to the point of no return,”
Jyuto’s words still haunted his conscience till that night. Everyone in the Dirty Dawg is perfectly aware what Ramuda is capable of doing and how merciless he can be to those that truly ticked him off. If Ramuda had been the one to deliver the punishment… dammit.
“Who are you to Chuuoku.”
Ramuda hummed and spun on his spot, hands spreading as he attempts to balance with one foot in an impromptu ballet pose. “Just a nobody teehee~ But a lot of onee-sans just can’t resist me, so~”
“Were you the one sent to recruit her?”
“That’s the first thing you screamed at me that one morning when we met at headquarters.” Ramuda shivered, “Then you pulled me by the collar and ugh, bad, bad, memories. Sama-chan sure is scary when distressed.”
“You stopped acting oblivious halfway through.” That’s right… Out of the sudden Ramuda had glared at him and ordered him to back off, claiming that he made the wrong move first. “I shouldn’t have tried to dig up about them. But there was no reason to attack my family.”
“There wasn’t.” Ramuda replied, face stoic, “She came to us first.”
…I knew it. Nemu…
“If you really like to know… We’ve had our eyes on you even before the Dirty Da–”
“Can you let her go?”
Ramuda stopped. “Sama-chan should just forget about her. It’s not like you can do anything.”
“And that’s why I’m asking you!” he shouted, “I’m asking you!” ignoring the vibration in his voice, clenching his fists, “Ramuda… She’s just a kid.”
“Haha, Samatoki~ You’re too funny!” Ramuda giggled, before a switch was flicked and in a hushed voice he said, “It doesn’t matter. Everything has always been a game.”
Samatoki scoffed, “Tell me then. Since when had it stopped being one?”
An ominous smile spread across his face, “Oh, it’s still ongoing! Not fun if it ends too fast!”
“Yeah right. A game where the players aren’t having fun isn’t a game.”
“No.” But there was something else Ramuda seemed to want to say but decided not to, opening his mouth only to close it again and looking away looking even more frustrated.
And Samatoki soon decided, with a twinge of frustrating bemusement, that pushing further will only enrage the smaller man, so he let it go. For now.
Standing still as the night wind whipped around them, their quiet ambience shattered once numerous footfalls were heard. Ramuda threw away his lollipop and in a familiar semi-deep voice, muttered, “They’re here.”
“About time.” replied Samatoki, pulling out his own mic. Nemu, wait for me. I’ll definitely find a way…
Once they’re through with all the thugs on sight, Samatoki turned to call at his partner, only to find no one around.
“Oi Ramu–” and that was all he could voice before his vision deteriorated. Wha– and he was unconscious before he could hit the ground.
“Samatoki…” she whispered as they both sat face to face. Her hand cradling his and another holding a red ribbon–her favourite ribbon. She always loved tying up her hair with it, whether it would be braided or made into a pony tail and had been doing the same for Nemu ever since she began growing her hair past her shoulders.
It became one of their precious happy moments together, having her teaching them both and laughing and looking satisfied. It was perfect.
He never once knew what made ribbons so precious but seeing the two women in his life so happy was enough.
“Listen to me,” she said softly. It was a tone of acceptance; one he hadn’t heard in days ever since her breakdown.
He still has yet to comprehend why she wasn’t feeling joyous. They were free. They were completely free from that man. None of them has to fear for each other’s lives anymore. His mother is a hero. But an unhappy one...
It only took three seconds for him to register the situation he was in, eyes still closed and hands and legs bounded by a good knot. The smell of gunpowder gave everything away. And as if it serves as a drug, memories came rushing back to him without delay and clear as ever.
Once he opened his eyes, he was more than prepared to meet the sight that awaited him.
A nozzle of a gun, pointed a few centimeters away from his temple, point blank range, no doubt it wouldn’t miss once the trigger was pulled.
He looked up, as much as he could from the rope tied around his neck that leads to his arms tangled behind his back.
Ramuda stared at him with cold eyes. But no matter how cold it is, it isn’t the eyes of a murderer. Samatoki know that gaze very well, having seen it in his late mother. The eyes of someone who were forced to kill and condemning themselves for it.
“Game over, Samatoki.” A deep voice said, coming from the man standing ahead of him.
“Is it now?” he replied, fingers twitching with the knot.
“If you move,” Ramuda’s eyes widen just a bit, “I’ll shoot.”
“So I can’t speak?”
Ramuda looked pissed. “Don’t mess with me! You should’ve stayed in your lane...”
“I never did. Never wanted to, but how do they expect me to do that when my sister has been teetering on theirs?”
“It’s pointless. You never had a chance since the beginning.”
“I know.” he replied immediately. Yes. He knew, right from the very start, from the moment he heard her call, from the moment he saw her back leaving their house… he knew.
Ramuda glared, looking increasingly pissed by his responses. “Then you’re an idiot.”
“I’d rather die trying than hand her over to those lots.” Sighing, he tried tugging on the ropes once again to no avail. With a slight out of place mind, he thought about having Ramuda teach his men on how to properly tie a knot but that remark is not suitable for that moment. Not when his life is on the line. And Nemu’s and perhaps… Ramuda’s as well. Thus, he said what he could, given his position, “Put it down, Ramuda.”
“And why should I?”
The faster he replied the more Ramuda looked more annoyed. He looked so close to snapping and pulling the trigger, and Samatoki could only hope he’d hear him out. “Because I’m asking a favour.”
“I have no reason to grant you any mercy.”
Samatoki gritted his teeth. The way he said it… Its tone gave away more than he could have asked for. “Is this what they make you do there?”
“Enough!” Ramuda roared. “Enough, enough, enough! Shut. Up.”
Another sigh, and he closed his eyes, setting his mind to think. “Will you help me?” he asked softly, “If I asked? If I asked you to promise me…” different thoughts swirled in his mind as he continues to cross one over the other. No, that will never work– “That if you kill me now, you’d protect her in my stead even if she became one of them, you’ll protect her for me.”
“Don’t be foolish!”
“Too bad.” he retorted. “For someone who’s life had been shitted on so many times, I still care for the only family I have left. So, I’m begging you.”
“I need you to promise me something,” his mother said, both their hands still clasped together in a firm grip. “that no matter what happens, you will protect Nemu.”
“I know, mom,” he replied instantly.
He lowered his head, as much as he could, “Please.”
At that time, he had failed to understand why she brought up something that was so obvious to everyone. He loves his sister and would always be more than willing to lay his life down for her if it means she would live a happier and better life. But his mother had foreseen what could happen and made him make a single promise that became his standing ground years later. To provide him a reason to carry on despite anything. To always remain by her side. Family is everything.
And if that very promise was to be broken…
Nemu… I can’t keep my end of our promise either it seems.
The wind whipped around them furiously as the thunders loomed above in the night sky. And both men stood their ground, one at the other’s mercy, begging for his sister’s life, and the other…
But there had never been an option for a man like him. More footsteps filled his ears and he let his head remain hung low. This is… my final request.
And a single shot rang through the night.