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Two person mahjong wasn’t exactly common. Yukio much preferred the standard method, it kept the tension good and made it easier to shift the flow. Another unusual attribute of this set up was the fact it would have no prize. He would have refused or suggested adding others to the game, if it wasn’t for the man who had invited him to this duel.
"Yukio Hirayama." Yukio looked up from his hand, knowing he hadn’t taken his turn yet. Bluntly, it was an irrecoverable hand, his chances at winning were shot from the start. It had already been 3 rounds, each of which the other man had easily won.
"Yukio, meaning 'happy man'" Akagi mused, running his fingers along his wall of tiles. "Hirayama, meaning stability, regularity. A person of good morals. Not the kind of guy you’d see in the gambling scene.”
Yukio eyed his opponent skeptically, "Are you trying to intimidate me?". He discarded a 3 pin. Even if luck suddenly decided to favor him there would be no way to to pull through with enough points to win. He should have quit before
"I'm only trying to make conversation." Akagi's deadpan voice hid what his intentions were. Yukio found the blood rushing to his head. His hand was terrible. Yukio knew when he was doomed and if it was anyone else he would have given up already except this wasn’t any usual match. Yukio had been praised for his careful and precise technique in the past, but Akagi was a wildcard. He pulled out ridiculous stakes in matches that could be won blindfolded, prolonging victory so long as he would stay in a hot seat. The words like ‘madness’ and ‘sociopathic’ had been flung around by countless witnesses of his games. No one knew what hid behind those sharp features. Still, this demon of the craft had approached him and requested a one on one. No matter how humiliated it would leave him, he couldn’t run away.
Akagi leaned forward and rested his chin on his palms. Yukio had been lost in thought and didn’t notice Akagi already played. Glancing back down at his tiles, Yukio felt the uneasy atmosphere getting to him. Akagi definitely had the right tiles to declare Riichi, more likely he’d been holding onto a winning hand for the past few cycles but refused to end it. He was waiting for something. Yukio went back to examining the possible moves but was interrupted by a sharp click.
“I forfeit.” Akagi announced and turned his tiles over. Yukio stopped and snapped his head up at the declaration.
“You’ve never lost before, and now you’re just going to quit?” He asked dubiously, not falling for the obvious bluff. Akagi's trick was mind games, he'd certainly pulled more bizarre stunts.
“Yup.” Akagi rose out of his seat, pushing his tiles back into their bag, and patted his pocket before pulling out a pack of smokes. Placing a cigarette in his mouth, he offered the carton towards Yukio. He didn’t move from the table. Akagi seemed disappointed, tucking it back in his pocket and lighting his lone cigarette. The urge to scold him for smoking inside rose but was quickly dissipated when Yukio realized that Akagi was very much being genuine.
“It’s over.”
“It is.” Akagi replied, blowing a ring of smoke upwards.
“But, how can you, you can’t just- that’s,” The initial shock ebbed away and became replaced with irritation.
Akagi had an amused smile on his face. It must have been a rare sight and Yukio decided he hated it. “It wasn’t a gamble, merely a game between two colleagues.” He breathed in another long drag. Scanning the room one last time, Akagi turned and began to head towards the exit. Yukio quickly stood up from the table, opening his mouth to object, but wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Akagi tilted his head back towards the losing player, that satisfied grin still hinting on his features.
“If it bothers you so much, I guess I’ll just have to come back. I’ll bring Osamu next time too, you’d like him.” With that and a half wave, Akagi turned on his heel and left the room. Yukio focused on the open doorway, the chilled night air blowing into the room. Scowling, Yukio gathered the discarded bag of tiles and attempted to waft the smell of smog out of the room.