Chapter Text
It was over. The Dragonlord was defeated - the ones that had slain Arakawa-san. His brother had turned to the angels before the world took him away for the final time, finding some semblance of the peace he'd been denied in life, despite his own, his father's, and the captain's damndest efforts.
The ball of light had been reclaimed with those final parting words.
Live, Ichi.
It wasn't the triumph he'd thought - the Omi were still active, rustling and biding their time to become random encounters down the line. Alefgard wasn't nearly as complicated as Ijincho grew to be, but it was his starting zone. There was little left in Kamurocho beyond memories that lingered emptily - maybe the occasional friendly face, weathered by time but there all the same.
It was time to come home.
There was no King Lorik awaiting him and his party, hand outstretched and offering his kingdom for saving the realm - real life wasn't quite that fanciful.
But there was a barkeep, a karaoke machine, and a record that needed to be set.
"Right, Zhao?" He asked, meeting the gangster-turned-chef (or was it the other way around? Never knew with the Liumang, other than the fact meat buns were cultural).
His triad friend stared back through onyx shades blankly, downing the remnants of his drink - the color of amber, iced - before replying. "Right what, Kasuga-kun? Not entirely sure where that came from... maybe speak your mind, hm?"
Oh, right. No textboxes for his thoughts - would have been real convenient, though.
"I was thinking we could go for another round of karaoke. Might be a good time to top your old record."
"Hm..." He trailed off, stretching his arms like any self-respecting man half-drunk off life. "Maybe in a bit. About screamed myself hoarse last time we tried."
"I believe that was what the song required for participants. You did rather admirably in that respect."
"Heh, you flatter me, Han Joon-gi." He tipped the (emptied) glass up, which was met with a similar crystal cup - neat Soju. "Just gonna let my throat set a bit. Tell you what, though: I'm up for the second set if you take first. Hell, I'll throw in a couple rounds for the evening."
The hitman smirked into his glass, following it with a casual shrug that rumpled his coat. "How generous of you, but I must decline. Of the many talents the original bearer of this face imparted upon my humble self, I'm afraid singing was not among them. As much as he attempted to instruct me, it was simply a fruitless endeavor."
"Yeah, but it's karaoke, man." Ichiban interrupted, head tilted and grin creeping just the right side of cocky. "You aren't meant to be good. It's a happy accident at best if you find the right people to do it with."
It had... been memorable, that day. Back when there hadn't been all pretty-plexiglasas-Karaokan... just some dinky hole-in-the-wall place called Heroine bar. How it happened was anyone's guess, but the patrons of that fine establishment were definitely scratching their heads all evening as the entire Arakawa family just up and bought their entire venue for the evening. The captain hadn't been pleased with wasting a perfectly good work day... a lot less so after Ichi's three-drink, punch-permed past self passed him the mic right when "Koi no Disco" popped up.
How it didn't end in a fistfight eluded Ichiban to this day. Small miracles all around.
Good times... well... times. Good memories, at least.
"You should have seen our first try on that janky-ass machine. Adachi-san was hammered on cup sake and yelling like some teen idol by the chorus. Nanba just stopped mid-song to pull out a damn photo and sat his ass down for another drink, machine still running."
"And you, on the other hand, 'nailed it' right, Kasuga-kun?" His little smug grin had teeth peeking out, ready for the reveal.
"Damn right I did." He proclaimed proudly... before deflating. "Until I didn't. Might have gotten caught up in the moment. That song just spoke to me, y'know?"
"He's right though, Han Joon-gi." Zhao supported, swirling the empty glass with more abandon than he ought to. Ichiban eyed in concerningly - the fancy crystal didn't look cheap. "Karaoke's about unwinding and making fools of yourselves. Even the Liumang have their own little hideaways for this kind of thing."
"Really? I never would have guessed."
A hand smacked his shoulder - ringed all over and bumpy. "I'll take you guys there next time. Lotta fun, and liquor's cheaper. It's an acquired taste, I'll warn."
"I'm totally up for it." Kasuga grinned - exploring Ijincho. Fulfilling his own personal completion list...
"Heh, awesome." Zhao acknowledged, before turning to Han. "That said, we've known each other for... what, couple years? Right, Han Joon-gi?"
"That would be around the time I arrived here, yes."
"Yeah-" He hiccupped, taking another sip of what remained - just ice water. "But never saw you sing. Kinda odd to know someone so long and not know how they sound."
The hitman blinked. "I was unaware of the custom. Is that how it works within the Liumang? Seong-Hui must have her hands full as we speak."
"Hell yeah. Shit's sacred. 'S where we can be real with each other - only time business doesn't matter. Back me up here, Kasuga-kun."
"Mhm. Same thing in our world. You take your brothers to karaoke. About as important as sakazuki, minus all the formal business. Hell, it even goes down on the business end of things. Ask your superiors to hang out at a neat place, bring a couple of girls with you, and you've got the express lane up the Yakuza ladder. Lot of them - in my punch-perm days, at least - were old farts that didn't have much luck with ladies. Impressing your seniors was just as important as earning for them."
"I see." Han Joon-gi replied, fingers drumming on the wooden bar top. "That's actually rather fascinating."
Kasuga spared a glance at his partner in crime, who winked back from behind opaque frames.
"A shame I must still refuse your request. Even if I were interested, and my predecessor would forgive the transgressions in his name, it's simply not the Geomijul way. We pride ourselves in our innocuity - even an alias on a scoreboard would prove a needless risk."
"C'mon, man. If you're worried about looking bad in front of the ladies we've got hours before that's an issue."
"It's not a matter of looking bad in front of specific people, Kasuga-san. I'd rather not look bad at all with the visage I bear - I owe his memory that much."
Ichiban sighed at another failed quest.
One day, though...
"Think I'm good for a few sets, Kasuga-kun." Zhao offered, eye gleaming the way he imagined rockstars did... moments before tossing a television down three stories and into the pool. "Back me up. We're getting this shit perfect this time."
"Heh." Ichiban grinned, ear-to-ear. "Read my mind there."
Living life to the fullest... no better way to start.
A drink was downed, just within earshot. Han Joon-gi smirked quickly, before wiping a hand over his damp mouth.
"I suppose I'll enjoy the show then."
<- ->
99. 99. 99.
So. Damn. Close.
It was always that song... just a pain in the ass to nail it perfectly. Rhythm was all weird to do right by - made "MachineGun Kiss" look like a cakewalk.
Something stirred in the pit of Kasuga Ichiban's stomach... it had to be the gamer's ambition. A perfect score had to be some sort of achievement, right? Getting every song perfect had to be another one. Pft. Obviously.
"Think we could go for another round, Zhao?" Ichiban asked, fingers twitching from dredges of adrenaline still hanging along.
"Careful, Kasuga-kun. Someone else might walk in and misinterpret that." He laughed it off, touching his throat with a cough. "All tapped out for this one. Made the new number one though... well, ain't that a kick in the head?"
"It's all right, Zhao. Some of these tracks... they've got to be rigged, right?"
"I concur. Yet another reason why I'm averse to the hobby. I'd much rather something objective to play at, like darts."
"No, no... shit's off. Didn't even make the top three."
"What?"
"Beg pardon?"
Zhao's hand curled, beckoning. Hitman and hero alike approached the dinky machine, curiosity piqued.
<- ->
"We're back!"
The murmur came from behind Survive's front door, ignored. Saeko may have puffed her cheeks at being ignored, sharing a bothered glance with Eri.
It wasn't their fault they were late - Adachi and Nanba couldn't keep up, is all. The two of them were probably at some 24-hour convenience store right now, sipping cup sake and complaining about their poor, old man backs.
It wasn't even that heavy!
Well, it wasn't feather-light, certainly. Sweat beaded on the hostess' face, just a bit. Their shopping spree was - maybe, arguably even - top heavy at best. The recent roulette addict didn't seem bothered even by that - Saeko may have been tempted to offload some of her cargo a few times throughout their return trip.
"They're at the karaoke machine, Saeko-san." Her companion offered, after she'd kicked the door in. They could just barely make out the barkeep's wince as sharp heels scrapped against varnished wood. The hostess empathized, apologized internally, and hoped he'd forget about it sooner rather than later.
"Of course they are. Karaoke's real fun and all, but some days I wouldn't mind a mellow evening here. Just drinks and mood music."
"Like a cocktail party, Saeko-san?"
The hostess offloaded her cargo on the first table to her left, stretching herself gracefully rather than flopping onto the seats as she'd have preferred.
"Exactly! Like Nanba's birthday. Just... with a better drink selection." She blurted, more than certainly beyond earshot.
This would be where Ichi stopped and defensively explained - for the nth time - why that was the case: shoestring budget, improvised party, lack of pies, and other things she definitely wouldn't let her own girls get away with pulling for her own clientele.
Except he hadn't yet.
Saeko turned to the odd trio, Zhao and Ichiban practically hugging the machine and staring, Han Joon-gi a respectable distance off but definitely involved in whatever the hell was going on. "I think we missed something, Eri."
The secretary kept typing frantically on her laptop, as per usual. Zoning out the world beyond the screen. "Eri?"
The sound of jostling keys spiked and stop, and Eri straightened her back and froze like she'd been zapped. "W-Whuh?"
"You're allowed to have fun here, you know? I've got things to worry about in my cabaret too, but my girls would call if they had a problem they couldn't sort. Trust your staff a bit more - worrying'll just do all sorts of nasty things to your skin."
"But what if they make a mistake?" Eri asked, making a show of being unconvinced, but already folding her laptop closed.
Girl really needed a break.
"Just consider part of their training cost." She offered sagely, nodding along. "If you think of it as a possible business expenditure over a net loss, then it won't bother you as much, would it?"
"You're right." Eri conceded, just a bit relieved at the perfect excuse. "A few potential million yen losses won't be too bad to ignore."
"C-Come again?"
"This is fine. It'll be fine. Thanks for making it fine for me."
The laptop slammed closed very ominously. Saeko bit her lip at what she may have created, then shook it off - for the best, really - to figure out what was going on.
The ladies made their way to the scene, flanking Han Joon-gi by the piano - he seemed the only one who'd kept his faculties. He turned to face the hostess, mouth curling up a fraction before flickering away. "Where are our other two compatriots?"
"Working off some back pain with cheap booze. They'll be here sooner or later." She replied curtly, just maybe a bit sore at their lack of spine. "Should I even ask what's been going on here? Not like any of you to get this distracted on anything in this bar."
He tilted his head at a short bow. More a nod than anything else. "My apologies for that, then."
"You've got nothing to apologize for, Han Joon-gi."
"I'm afraid I do, Eri-san." He retorted, sparing the girl another clipped glance before smirking smarmily. "You two haven't missed much, though."
"Mind filling us in on it?"
He smirked smarmily, like he knew more than they did - probably the case, as usual. Apparently some miscreant topped their karaoke scores, and they're rather... what was the term you used... 'anal' about it." He pointedly ignored Eri's scandalized face, which left the girl staring holes at her.
"Look, I never said that." Saeko corrected, irritated. He laughed - of course he did.
"You didn't. But regardless of the fact, their records have been shattered along with their pride."
Eri stood up concerningly to join the pair's frantic scrutiny.
"I mean, it's just a single set, right? We know Ichi - he'll take top rank back in no time through thousands of yen and sheer, mind-numbing disregard of himself."
"Perhaps... Kasuga-san isn't a man to underestimate, I'll admit. But neither is his opponent in this particular bout."
"Who are we dealing with, then?"
He pointed at the machine and grinned, indulgent and self-satisfied and taking far too much pleasure in their shared suffering.
"See for yourself."
<- ->
Daily Charts, Top 3.
[Kazuma Kiryu, 100]
[Kazuma Kiryu, 100]
[Kazuma Kiryu, 100]
What the shit?
Adachi-san was gonna flip!
It was such a pain to get it just right all those days ago, as a celebration for getting Nanba back on top of kicking Mabuchi and Ishioda's asses to the curb.
Shit, Nanba was gonna flip too!
That was the night where things just... lined up perfectly, and the first party members he met just nailed their songs. Perfect plays for the perfect evening back then... the marker of their triumph, just... gone and buried, courtesy of this sumbitch's golden pipes.
"Every song?" Zhao may as well have wailed beside him, tone incredulous.
"No, not every song... maybe." Ichiban replied consolingly, hoping to every digital deity he was right. "He'd need a partner for a few of these tracks, right? Iroha-chan's took a week off a few days ago, so unless he brought a girl I don't think the bastard got all of them."
"MOVE!" A shrill voice near-bellowed, and he listened without thinking as the woman moved past the pair and maneuvered the menu to her own treasured achievement.
That was Eri then. When did she get here?
"No... it can't be." His secretary began murmuring, abject and crestfallen. It hurt to hear, and what caused it was... inevitable.
"Holy shit."
How? How, even?
"Few things get me worked up." Zhao reminded, holding quite a bit back to maintain his frayed composure. "But how the actual fuck did this happen?"
<- ->
It seemed karaoke wasn't merely a crime family tradition, unless Eri-san and Saeko-san had interesting histories the Geomijul had yet to be privy to. They'd beckoned, and Saeko-san approached. She'd returned rather sour-faced, definitely displeased. Karaoke must have been a passion for her as well, despite how the hostess denied such often.
"Your record has been toppled, I take it?" He asked conversationally, sipping a bit past his third glass of the night.
"Yeah... was proud of that one too." Saeko muttered, rubbing her hands together.
Karaoke was a fool's errand, truly. Han Joon-Ggi could grasp the mechanics - perhaps even the enjoyment of such, if he'd had a bit more to drink and far less to lose. But it was a biased game - there were no perfect notes to emulate or pristine melodies to match. It was simply a fluke to succeed, and competitiveness such as his - inherited and precious as any heirloom - could not stand for such, no matter the occasional temptation to do so.
"It's not meant to be. It's simply entertainment sporting lopsided, arbitrary mechanics and marketing itself as a competitive affair. You'd be better off with something more objectively scored to invest yourself in, Saeko-san."
Her eyes darted across before settling on his gaze warily. "I'm guessing you mean darts?"
"Yes, I suppose. Among other things." It was a game of precision, technique, and training. The perfect sport for a man of his talents.
"Always with the damn darts..." She complained, which brought a split-second frown on the body double's face. "Just because you haven't gotten anything but bullseyes..."
"I'd be more than happy to face you again, if you've the urge to see me defeated."
Saeko grinned into her hand. He raised a keen eyebrow at the sight - concerning. Women only such when they'd trapped and bound their prey in a web of words. What exactly might he have walked into?
"I don't think I'll need to play you to see you beaten." She retorted... cryptically, damn it.
"Oh? Do tell."
She waived a hand to the karaoke machine - along with the trio collectively losing their minds - and laughed. It sent shivers up his spine.
"See for yourself."
<- ->
It was everything she could have asked for. Their resident hitman's cool façade finally crumbled at the sight that rendered the other three briefly, borderline catatonic.
A leveled gaze gave way to wide, unknowing eyes. Dexterous hands were holding on to the machine shakily for dear life. His head tilted in something that went beyond mere confusion. If there had ever been any doubt his hair was white (Or 'Silver Ash' as the man insisted), Saeko was certain this would have been the night that dispelled them.
Daily Charts, Top 3.
[Seong-Hui, 100]
[Seong-Hui, 100]
[Seong-Hui, 100]