Chapter Text
“Mr. Reigen Arataka?” A female reporter speaks up from the crowd, a perfectly manicured hand poised in the air. “I have some questions I’d like to ask you.” Reigen, from his position at the head table, surrounded by members of the press, nods good-naturedly and waves a hand.
“Go ahead.” The lady peers down at her notes, then looks up at Reigen, clearing her throat.
“Were you involved in the death of Miguel Contreras?”
“No,” Reigen answers easily.
“Did you know about his murder?”
“…Yes.” His tone changes, almost imperceptibly, to something a little more cautious.
“How so?” The woman demands. Reigen sighs and cards a hand through his hair, then smooths out a few imaginary wrinkles on his gray pinstriped suit.
“His wife hired me as a private investigator to look into his alleged infidelity. When I realized that there was a hit put out on him, it was already too late.” The reporter nods.
“And do you have an alibi to prove that you were not responsible for the murder?”
“Of course,” he answers. “Mob, my assistant, and I were out of the city for another job. You’ll find that the Artichoke hotel in Vegetable city has a clear record of our check-out time. The coroner confirmed that Miguel had already been dead for a few hours by the time we discovered him.” Reigen stands up with a flourish. “Well, if everyone is done with the questions, I have a respectable private investigator business to run. Thank you for your time tonight.”
There are a few shouts that follow him away from the platform, but he pays them no mind. On his elbow, his newest recruit and bodyguard, Serizawa Katsuya, escorts him off the stage. The pair finds Mob waiting for them, looking a little bored.
“Master,” Mob begins, tilting his head, “why did you lie to them? You were the one who hired Suzuki-kun to kill Miguel.” Reigen frowns, then sighs exasperatedly.
“Oh, Mob,” Reigen begins, “here’s an easy lesson for you: don’t tell the press that you hired a hit on a business competitor, it’s not good for your public image.” Mob sinks back a little, nodding. “Anyway, I think we’re done here; the press has what they want. Let’s head back to the club.” Reigen saunters out between his two companions, who then follow dutifully behind him.
A sleek black car is waiting for them on the curb and they climb in; Serizawa in the passenger seat, Reigen and Mob in the back. They travel in a heavy silence until the car pulls up to the Surveys and Such Private Investigator Consultation Office. Serizawa steps out first and opens the door for both Mob and Reigen, who thank him in return.
The car drives away once everyone is safely out, and Reigen motions for Mob to head inside. Mob nods, his bowl cut swaying around his face, then bounds up the stairs and enters the building without a word. Now alone, Reigen claps Serizawa on the shoulder with a small, friendly smile. Serizawa’s orange scarf flutters in the light September breeze.
“For a new hire, you’re doing pretty well, Serizawa. Keep this up and I might promote you to a better position.” Serizawa jolts, then nods, wringing his hands together nervously.
“Thank you, sir! I’ll do my best!” Reigen gives him a laid-back chuckle, then waves.
“See ya tomorrow, Serizawa.” Serizawa waves back, then departs. Reigen’s eyes follow him down the sidewalk as he calls a cab and disappears out of sight.
The evening air is chilly. Pedestrians pay Reigen no mind as he pulls out his leather cigar case from his breast pocket with a gusty exhale.
Before he can take a cigar from the case, he hears someone clear their throat behind him. Reigen turns around to find Dimple standing on the steps of the office, an expectant hand held out. He is wearing a black three-piece suit, much like the one Serizawa typically wears, but the suit is accented with faded pinstripes. A white fedora with a red ribbon is in his other hand, resting at his waist.
Rolling his eyes, Reigen offers Dimple a cigar, then pulls out one for himself. As they cut their cigars and light them, Dimple speaks gruffly.
“You spend all your damn money on these fancy cigars, then never share… acting like I’m takin’ your children from you or something.” Reigen scoffs and shakes his head at that, puffing a few times on the cigar in his mouth. A steady stream of smoke floats up into the sky.
“What are you doing here at the office, Dimple? Shipments don’t come on Thursdays.”
“Well damn. No ‘hello’ or anything? Can’t I just catch up with an old business partner?” Dimple asks brazenly, red cheeks shining in the orange glow of dusk. Reigen grumbles, squinting suspiciously.
“Knowing you, something is up. You don’t show your face unless there is something important you need to say.” There is a subtle, somber shift in Dimple’s expression as he sighs, running a hand through his short black hair. The bags under his eyes are deeper than normal.
“Fine, you guessed it. I’m sure it’s nothing, but the police have been poking around at the docks. My men have taken some cautionary measures to hide the goods, but…” He sighs. “I don’t know. It’s making me a little nervous, that’s all.” Reigen looks up at the clouds, eyebrows drawn.
“I trust that you know what to do if anything happens, Dimple. You should be fully aware that I will not be able to claim association with you if the cops bust your shipment.” He taps his cigar and watches the ash fall to the ground. “If the police discover the alcohol, I will deny any record of knowing you at all.” Dimple stares at Reigen for a moment, then sighs.
“Yeah, I know.” A heavy silence follows; a mutual understanding.
The sun disappears behind the horizon.
He says goodbye to Dimple a little while later, then heads up the steps of the office, feeling a deep weariness in his bones. Inside, Tome greets him with a smile.
“Welcome back, sir. Mob and his brother left already.” There is a small, pregnant pause. “Who was the guy with the red cheeks?” Reigen slips off his jacket and slumps into his office chair. Tome hands him a cup of tea, which he takes gratefully.
“He’s a business partner. Don’t worry about it, kid,” he says, not unkindly. Tome persists, perking an eyebrow.
“For your shady bootlegging business? Or for your nightclub downstairs, Happy Trails?” She sighs. “Why don’t you tell me any of this stuff? What do you even do down there, anyway?” Reigen frowns.
“I’ve told you this before, Tome. I don’t want you to get caught up in it, so don’t ask. If this all goes to shit, I can’t risk your life in the process. I won’t let you get involved.” Tome scowls at this, annoyed.
“Then why do you let Mob and his brother do it? And what about that other kid, Hanazawa? Or… what’s his name… Suzuki? What makes me so different?” Reigen faces Tome with a grave expression, any hint of amusement now gone.
“Those kids are different because they do this out of necessity. They got into a life of crime at an early age, and their only choice was to join the Esper gang and get smarter if they wanted to survive. But you, Tome, have a safe, calm life with a nice house and loving parents. I…” Reigen rubs his face tiredly then sips his tea. “I’m only trying to protect you; the defamation incident with Jodo was bad enough. Even being a legitimate bookkeeper here might get you a prison sentence.” Tome, crestfallen, nods reluctantly.
“R-Right…” Reigen stands up and lays a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I think it’s about time we close up the office. Go home, Tome-chan, and get some rest.” She nods again, stashing her belongings into her briefcase, then grabs her blue bowler hat off the rack. “Do you need me to walk you home?” Reigen asks.
“No, that’s okay. Thanks, though. Goodnight, sir.” Tome gives him a small wave then leaves, her calf-length blue dress swishing around her legs.
Reigen, now alone, heaves a sigh. Four years ago, running his illegal bootlegging business on the side was easy money— and worth the risk. But now, with so many people involved, with children involved, and with higher stakes, the burden is beginning to wear down on him.
He is exhausted, but his day is not yet over. Surveys and Such is merely a business cover for his illegal nightclub, Happy Trails, and his illegal bootlegging gang, the Esper gang, which operates well into the night, directly under the office.
Reigen pulls on his coat and his hat before leaving Surveys and Such and locking the door behind him. High in the sky, beyond the streetlights and the clouds, the stars are beginning to twinkle, and he briefly considers pulling out another cigar to enjoy the small moment of peace.
He doesn’t. He knows he can’t afford to relax.
Shaking his head, Reigen makes his way around to the other side of the office building and enters through a nondescript door in the alleyway. Immediately, music and talking fill his ears, growing louder as he makes his way down the stairs. He is met with another door, which he pulls open without delay.
Inside, the room is hazy with smoke. Next to the door, the bouncer, Miyagawa, nods to him as he passes. Directly to his right is the bar, where a few patrons sit on stools, nursing their illegal alcoholic beverages. In front of him, round tables and chairs filled with people take up most of the space in the room. A small band performs on the stage further to the right.
“Hey, boss! Over here!” A voice comes. Reigen pauses and turns to see Hanazawa and Mitsuura walking up to him. He greets them with a small smile.
“Ah, Teru and Mitsuura, what’re you still doing here? How are the other Awakening Lab Gang members?” Hanazawa clears his throat and adjusts his flashy yellow vest.
“We’re all fine, but… did Dimple fill you in about what’s going on with the cops? Apparently–” Hanazawa is cut off by Reigen clearing his throat rather dramatically. Reigen looks around the room, fearing that someone may have overheard, and beckons the two further into the club.
“Let’s go somewhere a little more private to discuss business,” he says, a bead of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Hanazawa and Mitsuura nod, a bit sheepishly, and follow Reigen to his office.
Reigen gestures to the two plush chairs on one side of the desk, then hangs up his coat and his hat on the hook near the door. Hanazawa and Mitsurra do not sit, but Reigen does, loosening his pink tie. “Anyway… yeah, Dimple told me about the situation with the police. Just… keep an eye on it, okay? You guys especially, since you’re our primary transport crew.” Across from him, over his large mahogany desk, Hanazawa and Mistuura give him reassuring smiles.
“Don’t worry, boss,” Mitsuura says, “we'll be extra careful on our runs for a while. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up. The next shipment should come on Thursday, just as usual.” Relief lightens the heaviness on Reigen’s shoulders.
“Alright.” He stands up and escorts the pair to the door. “Stay safe, then. Have a good night, you two.” They give him a wave as he shuts the door behind them.
Alone once more, Reigen buries his head in his hands, sucking in a ragged breath. His main supplier of alcohol is Dimple, who is able to smuggle the goods into the city from overseas. From there, Mitsuura and Hanazawa, the leader and co-leader, respectively, of the group of street thugs known as the “Awakening Lab Gang,” are responsible for transporting the illegal alcohol to Reigen’s business partners across the city.
It is a huge, sprawling network, and if a single person gets busted it could be dangerous for everyone involved. Reigen must not let his guard down, even for a moment, or his empire could crumble.