Work Text:
The bell above the shop door jangled as the metal frame bumped the low hanging contraption and sent it swinging. It rang again as the door shut behind the boy, then stilled. Music remained, the sound of the bell replaced with hints of harmony from tinny speakers set to some oldies station, as usual, plus the one who hummed along.
Sano Manjiro’s older brother sat cross-legged on the grease stained floor of the motorcycle shop he owned. Shinichiro turned his head and looked up with a smile when the door opened, ready to deal with a new customer, but remained seated when he recognised who’d arrived instead.
Manjiro was small for a boy of twelve and crossed the short distance from the door to his brother, aiming to lean against Shinichiro’s strong back. He draped his limbs over Shinichiro like an octopus might and rested his chin on his head, pushing him forward slightly, curious to see what Shin was working on, some business plan notes or supply orders.
Petite and blond, he was quite the contrast to his brother who was a decade older and dark of eye and hair, with a taller and lankier physique. Shin tossed the pen and notebook off to the side and took his cigarette off his makeshift ashtray. He took a couple puffs of the nicotine before letting it rest on the tin again, making sure to blow the smoke away from his brother’s face.
“I’m kind of busy here right now, Manjiro. What do you need?” Shin sounded tired and distracted but didn’t make a move to disentangle their limbs and free himself so Mikey took it as a sign that Shin did crave the interruption even if he wanted to pretend he didn’t. Their grandfather put the money up to help Shin buy the bike shop and Mikey respected his efforts to build for himself something honest and respectable after years of running a gang. Mikey missed having him around the house, though, and found reasons to see him at work instead, as often as he could manage it.
He pulled the finished lollipop stick out of his mouth and dropped it into the ashtray beside the cigarette. “I don’t need anything. I’m just visiting.”
Mikey lied about not needing anything. Part of him needed advice, or at least an ear.
“Baji wants to start a gang.” Mikey told him after a minute passed silently between them. Honestly, Mikey liked the idea. He just wished he’d thought of it first but at least Baji Keisuke suggested he lead it. Baji cared deeply about all of his friends and would do anything for them but he was too hot headed to be an effective leader for a large group, and not very good at planning and being sensible.
“Ahh,” Shin murmured and Mikey noticed a lack of surprise in his voice. “Does this have to do with that friend of yours, the kid with the tiger tattoo?”
“ Hanemiya Kazutora is Baji’s friend.” Mikey clarified, though it was true enough, now. Baji had known the other boy for a while before Mikey accidentally got involved in that business with his father, a man deserving of a kicking if ever there was one. And Mikey could tell from the start that Kazutora was the kind of person Baji would follow to the ends of the earth, no matter how much trouble they might find themselves in when they got there.
Baji used to be around Mikey all the time but now his eyes and mind were on Kazutora and whatever Kazutora needed. Mikey felt a slight twinge of envy over the strength of their bond, though it was nothing he’d admit out loud. For all he knew, Baji’s attention had drifted to someone new because Mikey found himself enamoured with a new friend, too. A new friend just as strong as Baji was, or better, and better grounded besides. Where Baji lit emotional fires, Ryuguji Ken knew how to put them out and divert their energy into more positive pursuits and introspection. Mikey hadn’t realised how much he needed someone like him in his corner but was glad to have him now.
That fact didn’t translate into ignoring what Baji needed, or what Kazutora needed. They both needed Mikey. He didn’t want to be the kind of person who wouldn’t help his friends, especially when he had the power to do so. Mikey finished telling Shinichiro the news he might have already known. “The Black Dragons are picking on him.”
Shin started the first incarnation of that gang years earlier and his bike shop soon became a hangout for his old Black Dragon friends who could keep him up to date with goings on. The shop itself was in their territory. Baji, being Mikey’s childhood friend, knew of Shin’s original connection to the group but, so far, Draken was the only one of Mikey’s friends who knew about the shop, and Mikey planned to keep it that way.
“Who’ll be in your gang besides you, Kazutora and Baji?” Shin asked.
“Pah, Mitsuya and Ken-chin. So far.” Mikey listed the names of other boys Shin would recognize. Ken-chin aka Draken, was his best friend these days. Draken and Mitsuya had been friends before Mikey met them, and they’d known Pah-chin for a while, too. A good fighter and a good soul. He left another childhood friend, Akashi Haruchiyo, off the list completely. If Shin thought that was odd, he kept it to himself. Mikey was glad he wasn’t asked about it, having no urge to explain his decision for the time being.
Mikey suspected he knew the answer to his next question but asked anyway. “Do you like Madarame?”
Madarame Shion, leader of the ninth generation, was nothing like Shin, lacking the good natured charisma and persuasive charm that made people want to follow him. Mikey always admired his brother’s ambitions for the world of delinquents but Madarame was just the boss of a bunch of bullies with matching jackets. Shin had wanted to be the start of a new age with new priorities but other leaders after him had other plans, or no plans at all.
“I can assure you with all the truth in my heart, lil bro, I’ve never liked Madarame. He’s wrecking my legacy.”
“Can I take him down?”
Shin paused. “I don’t know what you mean with your question, Manjiro. Are you asking permission to do it, or are you asking if you’re strong enough to do it? The answer is ‘yes’ to both. You go right ahead and kick Madarame over the moon if you feel like it.”
Mikey sat on that for a minute. “What about your friend?”
Mikey knew Shin would know who he meant. Inui Seishu was a year or so older than he was but they ran in different circles. From what Mikey knew of him, Inui had joined the Black Dragons under a previous leader, one Shin steadfastly refused to talk about. Mikey tended to avoid the shop if he spotted the other boy hanging around, though didn’t have any decent reason for why.
“Seishu can take care of himself.” Shin declared, in a reassuring voice. “He asks for my advice sometimes, like you do, but in the end he makes his own choices, like you do. I think he agrees with me when I say bad blood runs the Black Dragons now but he’s committed. Don’t spend a minute worrying about him. You focus on your friends and what you need to do for them, okay?”
Mikey started to untangle himself from Shin then but Shin held his arm to delay him for a minute. “Whatever happens, I kind of hope that someday the two of you could be friends. He’s a nice kid, Manjiro, and I’m sorry you’re on opposite sides right now.
Mikey nodded, then waved and left, off to follow in his brother’s footsteps, for good or ill.
***
Under Shin, the Black Dragons had been formidable, in sync, and impressive. Madarame’s mismanagement as the ninth generation’s leader left his men to their own devices, unwilling or unable to guide them in a meaningful direction that would lead to a win in a fight.
So, when they fought against twelve and thirteen year olds, they lost.
It was laughable, really. If Mikey felt like laughing. The other boys did but Mikey felt no jubilation over taking the young man down. He was a waste of Mikey’s energy and time, frankly. A waste of breath. A waste of space. Mikey did the Black Dragons an enormous favour by destroying them if the only thing keeping them together was an arrogant asshole with a superiority complex he couldn’t back up with his own fists. There was nothing left of what Shinichiro had built from scratch and loved. Mikey had no qualms or remorse over ending them.
Better to bury the name and mourn what it had meant when his brother ran it. He hoped no one would feel like reviving it after this debacle.
Mikey regarded Inui from a distance. He hadn’t engaged Shin’s friend in the fight, putting all his efforts into taking out the leader. He wasn’t sure who on his team might have tried to take him down but Inui hadn’t fallen to anyone. The pale haired boy with the face scarring acknowledged Toman’s win with honour befitting a true leader of the people and walked away from the field, head held high. Some still standing joined him and the rest were left battered and unconscious where Mikey and his gang hit and dropped them.
“End of an era, I guess.” Draken’s boot nudged the form of Madarame, playing possum on the ground in front of Mikey, who hadn’t broken a sweat beyond what the sun did to him in the heat of the day. “I can’t say I see why Kazutora was scared of these guys. They all shrank like souffles once the shouting started.”
Mikey smiled and snorted at that. The rival gang had pinned their reputation on the history of their name alone, it seemed, instead of making sure they deserved it.
“Well, what now, Mikey?” Mitsuya ran his slim fingers through his silver hair and puffed his breath out, satisfied over leaving his mark on the men he’d fought against. Pah kicked his opponent a couple times, too, getting no discernable reaction out of him.
The fight was definitely out of what remained of the ninth generation.
As one, the Toman gang moved to face their leader, now ignoring the fallen men from the other side. Mikey liked the view as they assembled.
“Well done, everyone.” Mikey called out as he repositioned his long Toman jacket across his slim bare shoulders. “The Black Dragons can consider themselves disbanded and finished. They’d be wise to join us or leave us alone. They have five minutes to get their shit together or regret staying.”
It took twenty minutes but Mikey let them have the extra time, feeling gracious. Madarame’s boys would lick their wounds and regroup, probably, but none of them would feel like following that loser again. Madarame was finished as a leader. If he managed to find another gang that would take him in, he’d still be something of an embarrassment. Who wants to admit to being bested by grade schoolers?
The boys of Toman took their time leaving but Baji and Kazutora stayed the longest, bowing in front of Mikey and Draken at the end.
“Thank you, Commander,” Baji intoned with more gravitas than he’d ever displayed before, and Mikey felt he understood why. Even if Madarame seemed like a pissant compared to his own abilities, he was still a formidable person as far as Kazutora was concerned and Baji was grateful that Mikey considered him enough of an adversary to take seriously. That Mikey had the idiot cowering within a minute was beside the point. Kazutora knowing he had friends on his side was what mattered the most today, not the fact that they’d won.
“And now,” Mikey said with conviction, “we begin our era.”