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There are hardly any customers in the evening, so Tae decides to close the bathhouse a little early that day; she cleans up thoroughly, making sure there's not a single stain anywhere (with a huge rival on her doorstep, she has to keep a high standard), then sees what items need to be restocked, and then locks up the place. She doesn't go home, though, at least not right away; first, Tae decides to stop by her old acquaintance, Suezaki, who runs a small restaurant on the first floor of his house. He doesn't have a lot of customers either, but business is good. They sometimes complain to each other that the establishments opening nearby are taking away some of their customers, and when the two of them are gone, their business will be lost for good. Evenings are usually spent complaining like this. That's the old men's friendship.
Suezaki, though, is needed today purely for business reasons — he has a familiar supplier of goods, and through him, Tae regularly orders food for her bathhouse, like drinks. She approaches his restaurant ten minutes later and sees that, despite the time, he has already closed the doors. It's probably about to close too. At their age, few people go out this late to get a drink, only the rare visitors and surprise sudden guests. She walks to the door, knocks on it, then steps inside. Suezaki is her age, even a little older, and he is now picking up chairs after cleaning up. He meets her with surprise but doesn't chase her away, Tae is about to say why she came, but her gaze clings to something out of the ordinary, and then she recognizes a man. The one sitting at one of the tables, head down on his hands. He seems to be asleep. There are a couple of empty bottles next to him. Oh, all right.
"I don't know what to do," Suezaki complains, nodding toward the guest. "I should close this place, but I can't kick him out."
"Is it that bad?" Tae looks away from the drunken customer. "Let me take advantage of that. It's a good thing you didn't leave."
She quickly lists what she needs, and Suezaki promises to write to his supplier. He goes into the back room, dropping the cleanup, and for a while Tae stands still, glancing occasionally at the drunken guest. Visitors like this are always a big problem. Lucky, if he had his wallet on him and if he could tell her where he lived, then she could call a cab. But if he doesn't? Tae's curiosity is a little more than usual, and realizing that Suezaki will again take pity on his customer and stay the night because he's too kind-hearted, she walks over to the customer and shakes him lightly by the shoulder. It's a young man; he has long hair covering his face and is wearing a jacket and shirt with no tie. Tae leans closer because the shape of his face seems vaguely familiar.
When Suezaki walks back in, Tae just looks up at him and then looks down at her visitor again. She doesn't remove her hand from his shoulder and remarks:
"I know him."
"You do?" Suezaki's face brightens up. "Is he a customer of yours too?"
"Yes, he drops by often."
Tae doesn't know the man's name, but he's a regular visitor to her bathhouse, and he brings her a lot of trouble along with it. Who'd have thought that in her old age, she wouldn't be surprised by the sight of blood and corpses; though perhaps what happened eighteen years ago has also taken its toll. He's clearly from criminal circles; Tae knows he has a tattoo that keeps him away from a rival bathhouse. He only comes to her out of desperation. It's worth noting, though, that he only mentions it once, and he always pays for the cleaning of the corpses — the first time, he leaves her the business card of the cleaners who work with him on short notice, and they do all the work for free because, obviously, he's paying.
The young man's face is pale, and there is a bright scarlet blush of drunkenness on it. He looks happy. He smells strongly of alcohol; maybe it's not all the bottles he's emptied here. Tae shakes him by the shoulder once more, and the man's eyelashes flutter. He looks at her but doesn't seem to see her. Only smiles a little. Tae sighs and looks at Suezaki again.
He's been incredibly lucky today. If Tae hadn't come in here, he'd have been here until the guest woke up in the morning.
There's no way they can call a cab. They wouldn't get the visitor's address. He's the kind of man who doesn't give out that kind of information.
"We've known each other a long time," she says, her hands still on his shoulders. "I think he trusts me."
Trusts me enough to share the contacts of his cleaners and not hide the fact that he's from some crime syndicate, she doesn't add. Suezaki shouldn't know this information, his heart isn't so strong anymore.
She glances at the man. He continues to doze sweetly on the table.
Leaving him here... could end up in trouble. Not just for the man, but more for Suezaki. What if the visitor's enemies come here? They'd find him in the bathhouse, which was a pretty secluded place. But it would be easier to get to him here. He must be a big shot... They'd look for him here, but not in any other place that few people knew about.
It's silly, of course, but loyal customers should be valued. Learn the tricks of the business. Who else is gonna pay for cleaning up the bodies?
... who would even leave corpses in the bathhouse?
Maybe she just wants a little fresh air in her life. Something new. Right now. And this is her opportunity. Or maybe she's just feeling bad for a regular customer who's completely wasted.
"Help me carry him back to my place."
"Your place? Wow! Why the generosity?"
"Trust me, you won't get an address out of him. Where are you gonna send him in a cab?" Tae argues. "He knows me, so he won't be surprised. And it'll be easier for you! Or do you want to sit here all night?"
"All right!.."
Even the two of them can't lift him easily; the visitor is taller, and he's unexpectedly heavy. He's well-built, Tae remembers. It's a body hardened by fights. He always comes unarmed, but there are dead bodies still. Is it easy to kill a man with your bare hands? (why is she so calm?) But not today; his legs won't hold him, and the visitor piles heavily on top of the two of them. He wakes up from his sleep and, seeing Tae, seems to vaguely recognize her because he begins to smile. He nuzzles his head against her, and Suezaki, panting, laughs:
"Oh, so you're in that kind of relationship?"
"You're such a comedian," Tae shakes her head. "You'd better move."
They make it to her apartment (it's not a long walk), then Tae picks the lock with her key. The guest is dumped on the couch; he's in blissful drunken ignorance, seeing some pleasant dreams. Gee. Tae says she'd laugh if someone would tell her she'd bring home a young man, but no, look, he's younger than her son, but she brought him home anyway. Tae nods to Suezaki, they say goodbye warmly, and he promises to call the supplier in the morning.
Then Tae is left alone in the apartment. Almost alone.
It's a small apartment. When the kids moved out, there was no point in keeping a large place, and two rooms would be more than enough for her. Small rooms are easier to make cozy and warm; like here. A tiny kitchen, the same two small rooms, one of which is a bedroom. Tae critically examines her guest; he is enjoying sleeping on the couch as best he can. She glances out the window, where it's already evening, then rubs her neck with a sigh. She should at least get his name next time. Just need to say it's not for the sake of informing the police.
She steps closer. Frowns.
She should roll him over on his stomach. So that if he throws up... Though she doesn't want anyone throwing up on her couch at all.
"Let's get his shirt off, or it'll get wrinkled," Tae says rather to herself.
Pulling off the jacket is easy; she examines it, then thinks she should freshen it up. The shirt is more difficult. First, you have to unbutton it... Have you ever tried to do that with a man you know only superficially and who's lying drunk on your couch? It's not right at her age to do that. But the sight of a crumpled shirt makes her hands shake with impatience. Clothes should be handled with care!
Tae sighs. Tae thinks she's not being very sensible.
She extends her fingers...
Suddenly, her wrist is grabbed by a strong male hand. Tae immediately froze, unable to move; she looked away warily, and the young guest looked at her, his eyes still misty. A full minute passes in silence, then the guest sighs, lets go of her hand, and throws his head back, going back to sleep. What was that, a reflex?
But now Tae has such an incredible opportunity to look at the tattoo in its full glory. Atypical, so oddly shaped... She can't even pick out what it looks like. Snake spots? It's such a strange pattern. Her guest is well-built, now she can see for herself. But she finally pulls off his shirt, smelling of alcohol and expensive cologne, then rolls her guest onto his stomach and leaves him to sleep the rest of his happy dreams, except she throws a blanket over him because the nights are cold now.
She quickly irons his shirt and jacket, satisfying her hunger for cleanliness, and then goes to bed, wondering what surprises the new day will bring. Tonight, however... it's an unusual evening.
Tae wakes up early; she always gets up like this to open the bathhouse, even though most visitors arrive sometime after around ten o'clock in the morning. Reluctantly, she prepares herself for the new day and then walks out into the room. Glances critically at the couch — her unexpected guest hasn't left, continuing to slump here, but he's breathing. That's a good thing. There's a cold fall rain outside the window; she doesn't particularly want to get out of the house in this weather, but she can't say she's particularly busy being in the bathhouse. There aren't many visitors, especially since a competitor opened up nearby.
With difficulty, Sae tries to remember what she was doing when the hangover curse hit her. Unfortunately, it was too long ago. So she just starts making breakfast, some porridge and a couple of sandwiches with cheese and greens, also brewing coffee. As the aroma of coffee beans fills the tiny kitchen and permeates the room, Tae hears some fussing, indicating that her guest is finally waking up after a long deep sleep. She picks up two servings of breakfast and sets them on the table, then walks over to the couch and sets a glass of water on the coffee table nearby. From under the blanket, a hand slowly appears, reaching for it...
The guest drinks greedily. Oh, of course. He must be thirsty.
Tae looks thoughtfully at his shaggy head. Her hair was only this long when she was young.
"Oh, that feels good," the glass returns to its place. The guest slicks all his hair back with his hand, revealing his face and eyes, then examines his surroundings and looks at Tae strangely, as if remembering. Successfully, apparently. He inspects himself critically, especially the lack of a shirt. "Um, m'lady, indulge me with the fact that we haven't slept together. I hope that doesn't sound like an insult."
Tae can't hold back a chuckle.
"No. You were drinking at my friend's place last night, and you passed out there. He didn't know what to do with you because he wanted to close the restaurant."
The guest exhales in relief. He looks around the room again, stopping to look at the pictures of the family, then rubs his head with a look of agony so extreme that Tae marvels at the contrasts in this young man. Seemingly dangerous, and then such deliberately dramatic behavior. Though maybe it's the hangover.
He slowly tilts his head back, now gazing intently at Tae herself. Though his look is menacing, it's more of a contrived aggression. Tae can't say that she truly feels threatened like the times he's dealt with enemies in her establishment.
"Why am I here?"
"Because the restaurant had to close, and where would we put you?" Tae spreads her hands. "Since we know each other, I thought I'd help. What if someone came after you again? At least I'm used to it. But my friend who owns the place where you got drunk isn't."
The guest thinks for a few seconds. Rubs his chin with his finger. Then nods slowly.
"Okay, that's reasonable, I'll take it," he looks at her critically again. "Thank you, I suppose? Should I start being embarrassed about being almost naked in here? Oh, man, we don't even know each other's names..." then the guest thinks about it, and the joke stops. "Although you may have seen me with no pants at all. Uh. That's kinda... Try to ignore me ruining my own joke."
Now it's time to use the most killer argument in the world.
"You're too young for me."
Tae turns away, chuckling. Then she walks to a table, and the young man follows her. He towers over her by a full head — he looks too out of place in this apartment, and Tae wonders what he's thinking about the whole situation — but so far he's pretty calm. Too even calm, it has to be said. When he sees the two plates of breakfast, he goes wide-eyed, and then leans down, looking over Tae's shoulder. One thing to give him credit for, he doesn't move too close.
"There are two plates here."
"Yes."
"Is anyone else here?"
"Just us," Tae sits down at the table. "I can't let my guest go hungry."
The guest is slightly taken aback by this. He cautiously follows to the table opposite, not taking his suspicious gaze off Tae, and then sinks into a chair. Thankfully, he's throwing a blanket over his shoulder, so it's not like this is some overly romantic dinner with a naked man. However what romance is there to talk about? The guest looks to be in his early thirties. A little older? She's twice his age. More than that.
He looks thoughtfully at his breakfast. Tae, on the other hand, furtively glances at her guest. Just out of curiosity as to what he would do.
"It's strange," he says suddenly.
"Is it?"
"We're not buddies. Like, I'm really grateful, but it's kind of..."
"You should always take care of your loyal customers!" Tae parodies stupid motivational commercials.
"So this is all about profit? Wow... Although it's easier for me to understand, I agree."
"Why can't you just think of it as a kindness?"
"We don't know each other?"
"We know each other," she protests. "Not intimately, but enough to say hello on the street. The only thing missing is names. Otherwise, it's a complete acquaintance."
They look into each other's eyes. The guest scratches his chin. Then they introduce themselves, and Tae finally recognizes her guest's name. Admittedly, it doesn't sound like what she expects, more like... ordinary? She says it to herself a few times — Sojo Genichi — and then nods. The introductions are now complete.
"Do I have to call you by your name now?" Sojo looks like this is bringing him agony. He clucks his tongue. "There you go. Now I'll have to be polite. Who'd have thought it!.."
"You were pretty polite before."
"Oh, really?" Sojo's eyes are instantly flirty. "I'm happy."
His eyes almost brighten up with a real sparkle when a painkiller is placed in front of him. For his head — the message is clear for all to see. As he savors his salvation from the migraine, Tae wants nothing more than to laugh, but still just shakes his head. Sometimes people change too much in different situations. She remembers the blood stains on the walls, and now it's like there's a different person in front of her. Not completely, but... It's a funny contrast.
While he eats his breakfast, so satisfied he resembles a happy cat, Tae quickly finishes hers. She waits until her guest finishes his portion, pops some gum from his pocket into his mouth (was he willing to drink to the very last?), and then follows her. When he sees the ironed shirt, Sojo's eyes have the same unhealthy glint in them, but he can't hold back a smirk, albeit not as cheeky, but incredibly pleased.
"What's that, a shirt isn't wrinkled as if was in someone's ass? Tae-san... admit it, I'm actually dreaming after getting wasted in an alley somewhere. No way that's real."
"It could be real, but you slept on my couch last night."
"This is a hell of a couch. It's second in my backache ranking. The best one I've seen is the only one I've ever seen, but I won't tell you about it, it's indecent, we're not at that stage of familiarity yet, I'm shy," he takes the umbrella from the stand, and they stare at each other, almost too close. Sojo's figure looms over Tae like a mountain cliff, but there's no threat at all. Sojo smirks. "I can't help but repay you for such an incredibly awesome morning and carry an umbrella," he pretends to be a decent human being for only seconds, then admits in a whisper. "I can't go back to my folks. Not yet. My head is still not working... That's a secret. Can I sit with you for a couple of hours until I'm feeling a little fresher? Otherwise, I'm gonna come back all drunk and wasted, and when my assholes see me, they're gonna love it. But I would hate it!"
It's such an unexpected question that Tae hesitates, but then shrugs. Why not? She gets lonely sometimes. The kids don't go to work, only come on the weekends when she allows herself a little rest. And here is such an unusual company. Maybe this day will be a little more interesting than the last one. Especially since she could stop by Suezaki's place to pick up some goods from the supplier. He always arrives in the morning, and finally, there's someone strong enough to carry the box.
At the sight of his former client, Suezaki is startled at first, and after asking for the box, he simply becomes speechless. Sojo just yawns and nods at the request to carry the weight. He doesn't seem to have any business right now.
The two of them are cramped under the umbrella. She has a rather small one. They reach the bathhouse, Tae opens it. No one's there yet, no one's even waiting on the doorstep. It's habitual in its own way. She opens her umbrella and puts it out to dry, and Sojo pulls off his jacket, which is soaked on the shoulder, complaining about it, and then shuffles back and forth as if he doesn't know where to put himself. Tae examines his tattoo on his back. Through the fabric of his shirt, it's visible. Then he finally calms down and stops wiggling around, picks up one can of fruit milk and puts it in front of Tae, and leans back against the counter.
"Finally my favorite flavor. I'll be the first customer. Well, not entirely."
"You don't like the coffee flavor that much?"
"It's fine," Sojo nods with a look of expertise. He pinches off the lid with his finger and tosses it into a separate bucket. "But I like the fruit one."
"What an unusual choice."
"Why?" he chuckles ironically, and Tae shrugs, tucking away the money held out to her.
"People of your... type, if I may say so, prefer other things. Sweet things, as they say, are only for soft people."
"I'm a very soft person. A real sweetheart," Sojo drains the bottle in a couple of gulps and places it carefully in a clean tray. "There's no one kinder than me. Did you see that? I helped a woman carry a heavy box of groceries. Basically a saint."
Tae just stares at him. This joke doesn't need an answer. Sojo starts to laugh. Then he leans lower, folding his arms and resting his head on them, squinting at Tae, and just like that, he doesn't resemble at all the man who killed two people here last week.
"Maybe you remember... About twenty years ago, they sold a brand of milk like this... It had a funny cartoon cat on it. A red one. It was fucking awesome. When I could get my hands on it, I was so happy. The simple joys of childhood. But then after the war, the brand disappeared. Imagine what it's like to think that when you finally have the money, you can drink it every day, and then you get such a big fuck you in the face."
"What a tragic story," Tae snorts, and Sojo shakes his finger admonishingly.
"It's just so frustrating! I was thinking about so many things, like, I'm only going to buy them, but then a little time passes, and the market kills everything! I hate it! It's a bitch, every fucking time."
"But maybe there are other things."
Tae breathes on her hands. It's chilly today. She should turn on the heater.
"There are other things," he agrees. "But not the ones everyone dreamed of back then."
"And what are you dreaming of now, Sojo-san?"
Silence.
Sojo lowers his hand to the counter and runs his finger along the wood grain. His eyes become thoughtful.
"Once upon a time... I saw something, and it changed my life completely. More than anything, I long to have it for myself," he looks up at Tae. "And I have succeeded. Not by myself, but I have the thing now. However, it is a very dangerous toy."
"Is it something bad?"
He scrubs his chin thoughtfully.
"To some people, it is. It's a matter of point of view."
"But, the important thing is that you're happy, right?"
They look into each other's eyes again, and Sojo nods slowly.
"Yes. I'm pretty goddamn happy."
Then there's no difference, Tae concludes to herself. Some people play with fire, but they know how to keep themselves within the boundaries of what's allowed. It seems to her that Sojo is one of those people. She watches as he looks around distractedly as if pondering something... They talk; again and again. It's a pleasant conversation about nothing, as one topic flows smoothly into another. A couple of hours pass during which several customers come in; none of them pay any attention to the strange man next to Tae, nobody cares.
She thinks that Sojo doesn't really feel sick, he just wants to talk, but for some reason doesn't want to go back. She can't understand that. But she wouldn't turn down a leisure activity like that. Why not? It's more fun that way.
At one point he just complains a bit about business — rather vaguely, but Tae understands enough not to want to ask too many questions — then he rests his head on the counter and just stands like that, leaning back. But the silence doesn't last long, because voices are heard outside, and then two people come in...
Sojo instantly opens his eyes.
The two new guests — are they twins? — look first at him and then at Tae. Both of them are dressed in shirts and ties, with colorful jackets thrown over the top, but what's most eye-catching about them are their colorful mohawks. Judging by the malicious smiles, these two didn't come here to swim in warm water.
While Tae bitterly awaits another unscheduled shutdown to clean up the corpses, the twins surround Sojo; he doesn't move at all, though, just stares at them disapprovingly.
"Check it out. He's standing there with his ass out, looking like a girl on the promenade."
"We've been looking for you," the twins complain, and Sojo grins.
"How the fuck did you find me? I got away from you guys so I could drink in peace."
Oh, okay. So he's their boss.
"You're easy to find," the first twin snorts and the second one nods.
"If you're not at the base, you're probably sitting like a frog in a puddle somewhere. Well, I mean, in a bathhouse," they glance warily at Tae, and then they both nod. "Figuratively, we're not insulting anything here, really."
Sojo just groans and hides his face in his palms. His suffering is dramatic, words can't describe it. It's so different from his usual brief massacres (but not too different from his chattering afterward, like the last time he complained about the menthol shampoo) that it seems slightly surreal. Tae had never seen Sojo here with anyone. He always came alone. The kind of guest who sits very quietly because he's always thinking about something.
The twins approach the boss from behind and put their hands on his shoulders. He shakes his head.
"I'm so fucking sick of you two monkeys."
"Stop bitching around," one of the brothers snorts.
"Yeah, we're in the middle of something."
"Lots of equipment burned down, and you're bothering me with this shit! I'm in grief. Fuck off."
One of the twins shakes something outstretched in front of Sojo, which Tae doesn't look at right away, but then sees that it's a katana scabbard. Unfortunately, her knowledge of swords is extremely poor, so all she can understand about it is that it's indeed a very beautiful sword with a white hilt. It has a certain elegance to it that both harmoniously complements its owner, but at the same time is its exact opposite. Such a light-colored sword in the hands of the man in black.
She sees Sojo looking at that sword. He sighs and grabs it by the scabbard.
"You always know just what to pull, don't ya? I hate you two so much."
"You're so predictable," the twins laugh. Then they look at Tae again, a little wary. "Granny, did he bother you, huh?"
"I bet he was talking about how he jerks off to katanas!"
Sojo's gaze takes on the threatening tone Tae already knows, as the twins start to laugh. But she just shakes her head.
"This was the nicest conversation ever."
"Oh, the boss can do that too?" The two of them start shoving Sojo out into the street, and he exchanges an expressive glance with Tae, which in his language apparently means goodbye, thank you, and other interesting and polite things that are far from him, but are still on his tongue. Then one of the twins looks around. "Mademoiselle," this young man's French is not very good. "Uh, madame? We're taking this fella away, sorry for the time he took."
"I'll break your neck, you fucking joker!"
And so the three of them left the bathhouse, the twins joking and bickering with Sojo, the latter snapping at them, and, admittedly, compared to his usual noisy visits, this one was very good. At the very doorway, pushing the twins away at the same time, he turns and looks at Tae, with a wolfish stare, but instead of any threat or anything else that would be characteristic of a man with such a beautiful blade, he just smiles crookedly and shows two fingers in farewell, and then walks away.
Tae just stares after him for a while, and then at her bathing place.
What a strange morning. But interesting enough, perhaps. A little crazy... but that's the kind of weirdness that's sometimes missing.
Unfortunately, that's the last time Tae sees Sojo; she tries not to think about it too much, but it's too easy to notice — it's always like that with regulars, especially the ones who sometimes cause carnage here. Maybe he's just minding his own business, she thinks. It happens. But logic tells her to forget it, people like that don't last long. It's odd to think about it in the context of someone who hasn't even lived more than half her life, but the last twenty years have been quiet, so it's rather expected, reasonable. Logical. It's a shame... but there's nothing you can do in this situation.
Business is quiet. No one else is dying, there's no need for the services of cleaners. Winter is gradually coming and the number of visitors is increasing. Tae is busy with her work, and there is no time to think about anything distracting. She spends all day doing things, from bathing to household chores, like a squirrel in a wheel, and so it goes on until about the middle of January, when the worst frosts come, rare visitors in their area. More money has to be spent on heating, but it's worth it. New people started flocking to the baths; who wouldn't want to warm their bones in hot water at a time like this? Even the big new bathhouse next door isn't enough.
... the menthol shampoo sits in the closet, waiting for summer.
Lately, some young guys from one of the local gangs have started coming here; they don't hide their tattoos, they're proud of them — colored dragons in the foliage — but they behave badly. It's not that they're noisy or they dump trash. Everything is within limits; there's a bottle left behind, and sometimes voices are too loud. It's not annoying, but sometimes it scares other visitors, especially family people or old people. But Tae alone is not enough to escort such guests out. The young men promise to behave differently next time, at least not to try to hit on them, but the very next time it happens again.
Just like today.
There are usually no visitors at closing time, but today, almost just before they leave, these two come in; Tae gets angry because she can't leave the place while there's someone here. It's not just them that's the problem, other people are starting to peek inside with curiosity. She doesn't need any more visitors, she already has one coming in, staring wistfully at the milk stand. She should be home by now. When one of the young men lazily walks out to her, all florid and steamed, and takes the milk, placing it in front of her, Tae says sternly:
"We have a work schedule until ten o'clock at night. It's eleven already. When will you leave the premises?"
"Come on, grandma," the young man laughs and smiles charmingly. "We are paying you money here, we are not sitting here for free. Be patient a little longer, today was a very busy day."
"I understand, but..."
"Not many people come here anyway!" He circles the room with his hand and then looks at Tae with an expressive gaze. "We're doing the cash. Why don't you like it? One hour won't kill anyone."
He starts to threaten, and Tae realizes that she'll have to accept it, because she's alone, and there are two of these big men, and they're much stronger than she is. She notices movement behind the young man's back (it's the new overnight guest), who is holding a can of coffee milk in his hand. He silently listens to their dialog, and then, as the young man leans on the counter and smiles defiantly, he suddenly says in a low, husky voice, more like a growl:
"You've been asked to leave. Politely fucking asked. What the hell don't you understand about those words?"
The young man immediately looks back and bares his teeth.
"Huh? What the fuck did you say?"
"I said that shit like you should know its place."
Then several things happen. The night guest tosses a bottle of coffee milk to Tae; she catches it in surprise; the young man straightens up, clearly intending to start a fight; the night guest is quicker and grabs him by the scruff of the neck, then slams his teeth against the counter. Tae shrieks, covering her mouth with her hand. She watches as the young man slides down, leaving a visible trail of blood behind him, and when his companion runs out screaming, the night guest kicks up the brazen man who is lying flat on the floor.
"Get the hell outta here, both of you and fucking fast! My patience is running out."
The other young man is also angry, but he is more sensible than his companion; they leave the place in a hurry, and then the night visitor turns to Tae and holds out his right hand to her. Only now can she get a better look at him — the man is wearing a jacket with a fur hood, part of his face hidden behind a medical mask, his eyes hidden by his hair and the same hood. His left arm looks strange. Only then does Tae realize that the sleeve is empty there — no palm.
With one hand, the unknown man pulls money out of his pocket and places it on the counter, then complains:
"And again, there is no fruit milk, what a shame. Uh, I apologize for the bloody line here. The decoration was spontaneous."
Hm... Wait a minute...
Tae squints her eyes.
"Thanks, I guess. Can you pull the mask down?"
"I knew you'd recognize me right away. Howdy!"
The mask is pulled down, the hood is pushed back, and an old frequent customer, whom Tae no longer expects to see, is leaning on the counter with one arm. Sojo Genichi gives her a wry smile, then shakes a bottle of coffee milk.
"Maybe it's a good thing those two morons ended up here. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten here in time. Fate, eh?"
It's a bit spontaneous, but Tae offers him a drink as a reward for his help, the most obvious gratitude. Of course, it's not as great a drinking party as the very day they learned each other's names; more like a little dialog over a single beer she'll treat him to for removing troublesome clients. Sojo is surprised at such an offer; he's the kind of guy who can spontaneously agree to something, even if he has other plans. However, he still utters something that Tae slightly doesn't expect.
"Nah, can't do that. Painkillers or death. Sadly I can't choose alcohol over my health yet."
Come to think of it, in the bathhouse, without his mask and hood, he looked... bad. That's a very mild way of putting it. Tae remembers that her spontaneous acquaintance is already quite pale (making the tattoos on his skin look like they're even blacker), but now his skin is completely white as chalk. She's afraid to ask what happened to his arm, or rather, where it disappeared. His new appearance is quite sickly. There are new marks on his face. One eye seems to be missing as well...
Tae isn't a fan of alcohol herself, and all the decent tea houses are closed, so there's no choice but to go to her house again. It's strange to bring a young man here a second time, but for now, this visit remains a secret between them. There she puts the kettle on, looking for something to eat in the cupboard. Sojo makes himself comfortable at the table, just as he did then. Without his jacket, he looks like a lean hound. Not at all the same man she saw at the beginning of the fall. But not all questions are worth knowing the answers to.
That doesn't stop Tae from asking them, though.
She sets down two cups of tea. Sojo takes one of them from the top with his fingers and smirks.
"You came to me... why?"
"No reason," Sojo blinks in surprise. "I was passing by, and I thought I should come in. It's been so long since I've been here. I'm not really in the mood for public baths right now, though. Not in my condition. I mean, the health is better now, because I look like shit. What's wrong with that?.. I can't? I knew it! I fucking knew it! Total disrespect!"
Something hasn't changed, that's for sure.
"Call it intuition," he shrugs. "I just felt like I had to come in. And I was right."
"Thank you very much."
"See?" Tae squints her eyes as Sojo laughs. "I told you I was a real sweetheart. Saving the poor and the weak... That's a joke, mind you."
He sips a little from the cup, wrinkles his nose because the tea is so hot, and puts it back. All with one hand. He's wearing the same white sweatshirt he usually wore on the days he visited, but a different one — Tae notices details like that, like seams. Everything seems to be the same, but slightly different. It's a strange sight.
"You've really been gone for a while."
"You don't like losing your regulars, do you?"
Tae decides to play along.
"Of course. They're the most stable income."
"I understand," Sojo nods eagerly. As if there were no simpler truths. "I liked having the same guys come to me a lot, too. You know them inside and out. Predictability in business is good."
"I thought you were a risk taker."
"I like to take risks! But not in business."
"I see your edge game wasn't very successful this time."
That's not a phrase that should be spoken. Tae falls silent. Sojo is silent too, staring at her intently, but then rubs his right shoulder with his hand. That's odd. It's not like he doesn't have a left arm. Or is there a hidden wound there too?
"Yeah, I got my ass kicked pretty bad."
"Why didn't your subordinates help you?" Tae is surprised. "Those two twins seemed like reliable companions."
Sojo reaches for his mug of tea again and snorts.
"Oh, that's a good damn question!... Dead! Both of them. Were killed."
"Oh..."
"Me too," he takes a sip, then, apparently realizing how strange that sounds, adds. "Temporarily, that is. But it's normal. I mean, it's not normal, but for my kind of work, it's rather expected."
"But you're here now?"
"Yes. Here they are, the wonders of modern medicine," Sojo leans forward and hisses in a conspiratorial whisper: "Dying sucks, I don't recommend it," he straightens up and says normally: "Now I'm taking care of myself and such shit. I have no choice. What about you? How's the bath? Although, I see, it's fine, since the morons have started coming."
"Not bad."
The conversation continues without much direction. Mostly about mundane, everyday matters, too even simple for her new guest. But isn't that better? Even shady businessmen have days when there isn't much to talk about. Even more so it's mostly a simple thank you for helping out in the evening. Tae talks about how things are going, mentions family, and Sojo is only extremely vague about the fact that it was only a couple of days from their last meeting to his “death”. He doesn't tell what exactly happened, or how he survived or came back to life at all, but one thing Sojo adds:
"Gotta mostly hide and keep my nose out of sight now. I have money, fortunately, so I don't live badly. All the morons were yelling at me, like, why should I save money, but I knew that I would need it someday and that I shouldn't spend it all at once on girls and alcohol," he looks at the tea with a sigh. "Such a healthy way of life makes me mad..."
"What about the old business?"
Sojo looks up at Tae and squints his eyes.
"I can't go there anymore. So for now, I'm just existing. If I'm lucky, I'll have enough money to last a long time. Maybe I won't have to wait much longer," his hand rests on her shoulder again. There must be some kind of wound there. "But it's beyond anything I can predict. It's one of the reasons I don't go out much now. You gotta save money!"
"I could give you a discount."
They're both laughing.
"Tae-san, you're a real demon. No one's ever tempted me to spend money like that before. "
"Who likes to lose loyal customers?"
"Maybe... Maybe. Later."
Sojo drums his fingers on the table. Then he looks out the window. It's pitch black night. It's snowing. Good weather for sitting at home with a mug of tea, thinking about things, like the future. Except that the future is too uncertain to assume anything. Tae isn't the only one who thinks that way. She looks at Sojo again; he's staring into his cup, though his thoughts are far away. To her, he's a young man. He hasn't even lived half her life. Compared to him, her life is so boring. Almost eight decades pass by quite peacefully (not counting the short war). And this guy has already managed to die and come back to life in thirty years.
"Shit. I want to smoke..."
"Why don't you find yourself a new way?" Tae suddenly asks. When Sojo looks at her unfocused, she adds: "You have other hobbies. More peaceful ones. They are unlikely to bring you trouble. You gave so much advice to me back then. Why don't you open your own place?"
"Like a bathhouse?" Sojo squints his eyes. "You want another competitor?"
"There are thousands of bathhouses in Tokyo."
"I had a thousand competitors in my old business too. Where are they now?" he curves his mouth and leans back in his chair. "I'm cruel as a businessman. Ask my former rivals... um, I mean, I'd rather you didn't, but they'd tell you that I don't like competition."
Tae only smiles in response to that. She could have said something like — come to me if you have nothing better to do. You like it anyway. But she knows the answer too well. Sojo won't agree. Sojo has a tail of problems behind him that she, a mere commoner, has absolutely no need for. So the most she can offer is tea in gratitude and an offer of a discount. She has a feeling she'll be seeing Sojo soon. He's not the kind of man to ignore such offers so easily.
In the distance, the train rumbled along in the night darkness.
"It would be interesting that way, though."
When Tae looks at Sojo again, a smile slowly slides off his lips. But he doesn't say anything else.
They leisurely end this little conversation. Outside, a blizzard begins to fall. Watching the snowfall, Tae turns around, to where her unexpected guest is pulling on his jacket. To his back. She remembers what she saw in the early fall — that black tattoo, the back of a man who reeks of danger. Now... there's nothing left of that sight. Just a shadow.
As he bends down to tie his boots, Tae speaks:
"You can stay this night. It's late and the weather is bad."
Sojo gives her an ironic look.
"A second time? That's kinda flirty."
"Please. You're young enough to be my son, maybe even my grandson."
"How cruel! Love, as they say, is for all ages," Sojo finishes with the shoelaces, then straightens up. They look into each other's eyes. "No. I'm not staying."
"Why not?"
"It's dangerous. They could always come after me. I'd rather be on my own," he says with an ironic smirk, leaning his head forward. "I can't risk endangering the owner of my favorite bathhouse, can I? That would be very unfair. After all, I'm going to visit you," he thinks for a moment. "But thank you. For the offer."
Then Sojo hesitates on the doorstep a moment longer, apparently trying to find words he doesn't normally know, but failing to do so, he simply waves his hand, just as he did on the doorstep of the bathhouse just before the long break. He pulls the doorknob toward him and then steps out, and an icy wind blows through the apartment. Tae stares after him.
Then there is silence inside. Through the window, she watches as the thin black figure slowly walks away towards the train station, and then turns away.
At least some constant in life remains steady.