Chapter Text
“Oi, Kiryu! You have any idea why we were called over here?”
Kiryu shakes his head. “No idea,” he answers as he catches up with Nishiki, the pair of them standing outside the front entrance to the Kazama Family office.
“Maybe we’re finally getting promoted—you’re a legend already, the Dragon of Dojima and all,” Nishiki suggests, a teasing smirk on his lips.
Kiryu rolls his eyes. He gained that name a few years back, a moniker won by his fighting prowess, but his ink has only just dried, his irezumi’s only been finished recently. He doesn’t deserve a promotion, not yet.
“We’ll find out once we go talk to them—let’s go inside.” Instead of waiting for an answer, Kiryu pushes his way past the front doors, Nishiki scrambling to keep up with him. It’s late so the office is mostly abandoned, but a few men remain inside, bowing. Nishiki gives them a wave, a gesture to put them at ease while Kiryu powers forward, heading straight to Kazama’s office.
Kiryu reaches its closed door first, but he waits for Nishiki to catch up. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s go in,” Nishiki agrees, and that’s enough for Kiryu to turn the door handle, stepping inside. To his surprise, both Kashiwagi and Kazama await the pair.
“Come in,” Kashiwagi gestures the kyodai forward. Nishiki’s quick to get comfortable on a couch in the office, Kiryu sitting down beside him. When they’re both settled, Nishiki speaks up, breaking the silence.
“Why’d you call us in?”
Kazama is quick to respond. “You two have been in the family for some time now, and Dojima and I agreed that it’s time to test if you’re ready for a greater level of responsibility.”
Kiryu watches as Nishiki instantly perks up, straightening up on the couch. He puts on a good poker face and a dazzling smile, but Kiryu can tell Nishiki’s secretly been jealous of his fame and eager to climb the ranks. He’d jump at any opportunity, including this one.
Kiryu, on the other hand, is more skeptical. He’s both confident in himself and content with his current position, therefore he’s not as easily enticed as Nishiki.
“And what would you have us do?” Kiryu asks, much more hesitant to accept this proposition.
“There’s a cabaret club, Club Moonlight, jointly owned by the Dojima and Kazama families. It’s in the red and we need it revitalized—that’s where you two come in. It doesn’t matter how you get it making a profit, we just need it done fast. It’s draining the family’s finances,” Kashiwagi explains.
Nishiki’s quick to respond. “Of course we’ll do it!” he exclaims while bowing his head. “Isn’t that right, Kiryu?”
Kiryu, on the other hand, isn’t so sure. He’s qualified for a few things—mostly punching other people’s faces in—but running a cabaret club? That either involves a lot of math, or smooth-talking women, or even worse, both. He’s learned from his real estate business; he knows what’s best left in an expert’s trusty hands.
“I don’t know,” Kiryu shakes his head. “I don’t really think we’re qualified for—“
“He’ll do it!” Nishiki decides for Kiryu, one hand of his pushing Kiryu’s head down in a half-assed attempt to get him to also bow.
Kashiwagi and Kazama look at each other briefly before deciding to ignore Kiryu’s reluctance. “Good. Club Moonlight is open for business tonight; if you hurry you should be able to observe most of tonight’s shift. It’s on Pink Street just past ASIA. We’ve informed them that you’ll be coming.”
That information is enough to have Nishiki rushing out of the door. “Thanks for the opportunity!” he expresses his gratitude once again, this time with a full, proper bow. “Come on Kiryu, we don’t have time to waste!”
With Nishiki now out of the office, Kiryu decides to not let him get too far ahead. Getting off the couch and heading to the door, he’s stopped right before exiting by Kazama.
“Kazuma.” Kiryu turns at the mention of his name. “Don’t waste this opportunity—both you and Akira. It’ll be a long time until another comes by if you fail,” Kazama warns.
Kiryu’s not so sure of their chances, but he’s already accepted—no matter how reluctantly—so it’s time to adopt an air of impenetrable confidence.
“We will,” Kiryu promises. Turning the door handle and exiting the office, he doesn’t wait for a response back—Nishiki’s probably already halfway to the cabaret club, and Kiryu’s not the type to abandon his kyodai. Off to Club Moonlight they go.
It doesn’t take very long before Kiryu and Nishiki realize why Club Moonlight can’t turn a profit.
In the couple hours they’ve spent observing the business from a tucked-away booth, they’ve seen a total of four customers enter, all but one of them staying for the shortest amount of time possible. How can a club possibly turn a profit when there’s no one in it?
The next pressing question is why the club is so unpopular; the answer could be one of many factors, but likely, it’s a combination of them all.
The interior of the club itself is outdated, and not in a rustic, charming way. Rather, it’s outdated in the way that means the upholstery has seen better days and both the tiling and wallpaper are in desperate need of replacement. In short, the club is a few years off from falling apart.
Likewise, the hostesses employed by the club just aren’t enough to attract anyone. It’s not a question of looks, they’re attractive enough in Kiryu’s eyes, but they don’t have the conversational skills required to keep customers happy, and more importantly, to keep the drinks flowing.
And speaking of the drinks—they’re disgusting. Kiryu abandoned his cocktail a couple sips in, and Nishiki didn’t even make it past his first one, barely managing to swallow it. Kiryu wouldn’t drink the alcohol here no matter how pretty the women are; something he can’t seem to beat into the manager’s thick head.
The manager’s a balding man, probably in his late forties or fifties. He’s old for his profession, cabaret clubs are a new innovation after all, but Kiryu wouldn’t fault him for that if it weren’t for how stubbornly outdated the man is, unwilling to face reality. How the hell did this man manage to get hired at a club ran by the yakuza?
“I just don’t understand why we can’t attract customers,” the manager sighs, grabbing a seat next to the kyodai. It’s incredible how oblivious the man is; he might be the only one who can’t see the club’s glaring flaws.
“I’ll be straight with you,” Nishiki starts. Nishiki’s usually one to sugarcoat his words, but it’s clear he’s fed up, his annoyance shining through his typically easygoing exterior. “Your drinks are disgusting and cost way too much, the girls might be attractive, but they can’t hold a conversation to save their lives, and this club looks like it’s a few months from caving in. It’s a miracle that you have any customers at all.”
Kiryu can see a vein pop on the manager’s forehead. “You kids just don’t have taste. None of that bullshit’s true, but if it were, how would you even fix it?”
Nishiki and Kiryu exchange glances, their faces blank. Their silence speaks volumes, and the manager quickly catches on. They could fix one problem, and maybe even two, but all of these issues together? This project is way out of their league.
“That’s what I thought,” the manager scoffs, standing back up again. “The hell were they thinking, bringing you two dumbasses in. Like you’d be able to help anyone. Come back when you have an actual idea of what to do.”
With those scathing words, the manager leaves Kiryu and Nishiki alone, the two left to their thoughts, shitty alcohol, and the faint ambiance of the club’s oldies music playing from its speakers. This club is beyond saving; no one could fix it, Kiryu would wager, much less them. Still, they don’t have much of a choice.
“So…what next?” Kiryu asks, looking over to Nishiki.
“I have no idea,” Nishiki complains, taking a sip of his drink—an action he immediately regrets, given the unpleasant twisting of his face afterwards—and then slumping against the table face first. “This might be out of our league.”
“Might?” It’s absolutely out of their league. “This was all your idea, you know,” Kiryu can’t help but point out. If he had it his way, they’d be enjoying their night instead of stressing out over this damn club.
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t have accepted eventually—you might have thought about it for longer, but we’d still end up in the same situation.”
Nishiki’s probably right, but it’s still a challenge to admit it. “Maybe,” Kiryu concedes before changing the subject. “Where do you want to go next? I’ve had enough of this club for a lifetime.”
“Hmm,” Nishiki thinks, returning to a normal sitting position. “We could try asking Reina? She probably won’t have a clue other than maybe how to cut drink costs, but it’s worth a shot.”
It’s not a bad idea. “Yeah, that sounds good. I could use a real drink anyway.” As he speaks, Kiryu glances over at his now forgotten cocktail, a grimace on his face.
“Let’s get going then, kyodai. It’s getting late and I’m sick of suffocating in this club.” With those words, Nishiki exits the booth, heading straight for Club Moonlight’s exit, Kiryu following straight behind. Even if Reina doesn’t have an idea of how to help them out, Kiryu can at least get drunk and forget about the consequences of failing this assignment for the night; an equally tempting outcome in comparison to getting actual help with solving their problem.
Kiryu and Nishiki reach Serena just as it’s closing, the elevator’s door opening to Reina wiping down the bar counter. “Sorry, but Serena just closed,” she calls out, absorbed in her work. “Might I ask you to return tomorrow?”
“Sorry to barge in, Reina. We were just hoping to stop by for a drink and to get your advice on something,” Kiryu says, drawing Reina’s attention. Instantly, her attitude changes.
“Kiryu-san, Nishikiyama-kun! You’re always welcome here, you know that. Come have a seat,” she gestures forward towards the barstools, abandoning her cleaning.
Kiryu and Nishiki sit down in adjacent barstools, making themselves comfortable. “Thanks, Reina,” Nishiki adds, flashing one of his oh so charming smiles that Kiryu could never hope to replicate.
“You’re very welcome,” Reina answers with a smile of her own. “So, what can I get for the two of you?”
The advice is important, but first Kiryu could use alcohol after everything he’s been through today. He deserves it. “I’ll take whiskey.”
“Same here,” Nishiki echoes.
“Of course. I’ll pour those for you right away.”
It doesn’t take long before Reina’s procured two glasses, placing one in front of each of the kyodai. Kiryu brings it to his lips, taking a sip. The burn is a familiar sensation; this alcohol is much better than that of the club’s.
While Kiryu’s absorbed in the intricacies of his drink, idly swirling the glass around in his hand, Nishiki quickly explains the situation to Reina.
“And that’s where we’re at now,” Nishiki finally finishes recounting the story, sighing. “You wouldn’t have any idea how to help, would you?”
“Not really, I’m afraid. Supply costs can be brought down with either bulk purchases or the right connections—neither of which I can help you with given Serena is a small bar. There might be someone who can help you though, if he’s still around,” Reina answers as she continues to prepare Serena for closing, now cleaning glasses.
“Who’s this person?” Kiryu’s not usually one to ask for help, but even he can admit that trying to turn this cabaret club profitable is a losing endeavor. There’s no way they’ll pull it off without someone else’s expertise.
“I don’t know his name, or much about him, really. He was known as the Lord of the Night.”
“The Lord of the Night? That’s a fancy title,” Nishiki interjects.
Reina hums. “Mhm. Rumor has it he brought up the Cabaret Grand—Japan’s most popular cabaret—from nothing in Sotenbori, all without breaking a sweat. I don’t know how exaggerated the rumors are, but if there’s a guy who could fix your problems, I’m sure it’s him. There’s one catch, though.”
Whatever it is, Kiryu’s sure he can deal with it. He’s dealt with worse before. “What’s the problem?”
“He…might not be alive anymore,” Reina reluctantly answers, an apologetic look on her face. “He disappeared off the face of the Earth back around the end of 88 and hasn’t been seen since. I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it was the only lead I could think of.”
Well, shit. Kiryu can accomplish many things, but raising the dead isn’t one of them. Still, a lead’s a lead, and he’s grateful for it.
“Thanks, Reina.” Kiryu dips his head in a show of respect, Nishiki copying the gesture.
“It’s no problem at all. I don’t know if this will pan out, but if you want to look further into him, I’d recommend starting with the Cabaret Grand. One of the workers there might have an idea,” Reina advises them.
“Sounds like we have a road trip to plan out! Come on Kiryu, let’s get going,” Nishiki urges as he gets off his barstool, walking toward the exit.
“Coming,” Kiryu calls out as he follows Nishiki to the elevator.
“Good luck! Let me know how it goes,” Reina bids them goodbye, waving as the elevator doors close before them, separating the duo from Serena’s proprietor.
When they finally step outside of Serena, the darkness of the night and the chilliness of the air greeting them, Nishiki and Kiryu take a moment to stare at each other. It’s clear that they’re both thinking the same thing: it’s pretty late to start a road trip tonight.
“Tomorrow?” Nishiki proposes.
Kiryu nods. “Yeah. I think that’d be for the best.”
“Cool. I’ll pull up to your apartment bright and early tomorrow, so get some sleep. Don’t forget your wallet tomorrow, by the way—since I’m driving, you’re the one paying for everything!” Nishiki chuckles as with a lazy wave, he turns and walks off in the opposite direction, leaving Kiryu by his lonesome, a faint smile on his face.
It’s a good thing he still has some of his real estate money leftover; Nishiki’s got expensive tastes when he’s not the one footing the bill. Looks like Kiryu’s off to an ATM to fill his wallet with yen and then it’s time to head straight home. Tomorrow’s bound to be one hell of a trip regardless of whether they manage to track down this illustrious Lord of the Night or not.