Work Text:
Osaka, 1953
"-in light of this, I'm pairing ya with Sagawa for collections."
"But, sir-" Shimano starts to stand in protest. The Inoue family captain stares him back down into his shitty little chair, too little for his hulking frame. Even at nineteen he's enormous; he's the second-youngest family member, but no one dares to boss him around except for Captain, and-
"Sagawa-kun."
"Yessir."
-This teacher's pet piece of shit.
Sat with his legs crossed next to Shimano is a slim young man; his face is round and still boyish, though he has a few years on Shimano. He's the picture of a preppy university student, dressed in a sky-blue polo shirt, pleated khakis and smart shoes. The only detail that betrays him is the ink curling out from under his sleeves.
"Don't mess this one up," Captain says, jabbing his cigar towards Sagawa. The heavy smoke dancing in its wake is hypnotic and nauseating. "I mean it. For all his fuckups," Captain glares at Shimano, "he's smarter than he looks. Show him the ropes."
"Sir." Sagawa plants both feet on the ground and bows slightly at the waist.
"With respect and all that, Captain," Shimano cuts in. "Can't ya pair me up with someone else? Anyone else? This guy's a..." He does his best to not look at said guy. "He ain't a proper yakuza."
A chuckle comes from beside Shimano, but Captain is not amused. He lets the statement hang while he ashes his cigar, then settles back into his buttery brown leather chair with a sigh. Shimano shifts in his own wooden seat, awkward; it creaks under his considerable frame.
"This isn't punishment, dumbass," Captain says. "This guy collects in two weeks what you do in two months, exactly because he don't look like a punk and because he don't solve every problem by punchin' it."
Captain leans forward, lacing his bejeweled fingers in front of him on the desk; they tinkle against one another. The gold medallion at his neck winks in the evening sun. "Ya know what a real yakuza is, Shimano?"
Sensing the rhetorical question, Shimano keeps his mouth shut.
"He's a guy who brings in cash for the family," Captain answers, tapping the desk with his index finger for emphasis. "And by that measure, yer flunkin' out. So, yer gonna suck it up, do whatever Sagawa tells ya to, and I'm not gonna hear ya bitch another word about it until ya start pulling yer weight around here."
Erring on the side of caution, Shimano only gives a curt nod.
"Good, now get the fuck outta my sight."
Shimano gets up with too much force and his chair only just rights itself before it can clatter to the floor. He regrets his churlishness immediately and tries to recover by offering Captain a deep bow, then turning and bowing very slightly towards Sagawa.
"Please take good care of me, aniki." Before Sagawa can say anything to that, Shimano turns on his heels and walks out of the office, doing his best not to rip the shogi right off its rail.
The fresh air, at least, helps; Captain's cigar of choice is especially rancid in the confines of his small office. Between that and the sudden turn of events, Shimano feels sick. He walks down the empty hallway at a brisk pace, not wanting to get cornered by anyone, least of all... Shit. He's gotten stuck with a babysitter, and the biggest narc of them all, at that. Everyone knows Sagawa is the Captain's eyes and ears (and piece of ass, according to some - Shimano grimaces); this is seriously going to cut into his profits.
No shit, he doesn't bring in as much money - he's been skimming off the top. And if Sagawa finds out, Captain is going to do something a lot worse than just having his little bitch trail him. Fuck. Maybe he can still get out of this. No one would believe it if he broke Sagawa's leg and claimed self-defense, but maybe an accident could be arranged, or-
“Futoshi-kun!"
Shimano rounds on Sagawa, who almost jogs right into him. He glares, looming over his newly appointed keeper by almost a foot and a half. What did this smartass just call him?
Sagawa takes a quick step back, his loafers squeaking against the hardwood. He shuffles his surprised expression into a pleasant smile and offers a bow. Shimano thinks about how easy it would be to grab him by the nape and knee him in the face. "I just wanted to say: I look forward to working with ya, Futoshi-kun."
"Okay."
With that, Shimano shoves his hands inside the pockets of his bomber jacket and promptly fucks off. Sagawa scrambles upright and follows close behind, chattering away.
"This is a good opportunity, don't ya think? For both of us. We've got, ya know, uhhh, what do they call it? Complementary skill sets. Yeah. I hear ya got a mean right hook, and I can believe it, size 'a ya. Me, well, not so much, but-"
They're outside in the yard of the family compound when Shimano stops to face Sagawa a second time. It's empty; only the crunch of their feet on the neatly-kept gravel disturbs the quiet. He notices a pair of senior Inoue men observing them from the shade of the veranda. One jerks his chin towards the boys standing in the yard and says something that earns a cruel laugh from the other. Great, this twerp is already cramping his style.
He lands a heavy hand on Sagawa's shoulder and stops him in his tracks. "Can I help ya with something, aniki?" Something about the guy's eyebrows makes him seem perpetually anxious, and the wide-eyed look he gives Shimano amplifies that. Who in their right mind let this powderpuff swear up?
"Oh! I'm botherin' ya, yer busy." Sagawa quickly throws up a single hand in apology. "Can I just ask ya somethin' before ya go?“
"Fine. Make it quick." His hand drops. Too late, he tacks on "Please."
"Right. I just wanted to know what ya were gonna say to the Captain, back there."
"Haw?"
“Well, ya were gonna say something about me, and then ya changed yer mind."
Shimano exhales forcefully. What? Is he trying to scold him for being rude to a superior? Fuck that. "Ya ain't a real yakuza, yer a pencil-pushin’ little prick." He steps toe to toe with Sagawa to drive the point home - I ain't afraid of you, motherfucker.
Sagawa's laugh is stilted as he's forced to crane his neck up to look at Shimano. "Uh-huh, right, that is what ya said, sorta. But I wanted to know what ya were gonna say," he insists.
Shimano frowns, not inclined to take the bait. Does he not know what people say about him? Or is he actually trying to pick a fight, not fifteen minutes after Captain told them to play nice? Maybe he's not keen on this arrangement either; if Sagawa manages to get his lights punched out now, and in front of witnesses, there's a good chance he'll get Shimano kicked out of the family for good. Or worse.
This train of thought is interrupted by a hand on Shimano's abdomen giving him a gentle push. It might as well have been a sucker punch: "I'm talking to ya, ya big fucking lug, or can't ya talk and breathe at the same time?"
Sagawa's expression is soft, as is his tone - did those words actually come out of his mouth? It's almost as if someone else said them, like Shimano just got heckled by a ventriloquist's dummy. "Well? Ya were the one in such a big goddamn hurry. I asked ya a question. Ya gonna answer me, or do I hafta beat yer ass about it?“
In an instant, Shimano's fist is balled up in the front of the other boy’s shirt; the fabric feels expensive. The gold chain around his exposed neck looks expensive. He gives Sagawa a violent shake. "Fuck you, faggot. Everyone knows ya couldn't fight yer way outta a wet paper bag."
"There ya go. Glad that's out there now, so we can clear the air." Sagawa gives a theatrical sigh, as if a weight has been quite literally lifted from his shoulders. He pats the thick forearm forcing him to stand on the tip of his toes. "Mind putting me down, big guy? Captain won't be happy if he sees ya."
Shit, he fell for it.
Shimano shoves him off his fist and spits. It's a close thing but Sagawa manages to not fall on his ass. The men on the veranda are still observing the scene with amusement; neither is inclined to break it up. They consider taking bets.
"Yeah? Yer gonna ask yer boyfriend to come save yer ass?" Shimano knows it's a weak comeback. He kicks a pebble.
"Which one? The Cap'n? Takashi-han? Or that American soldier with the weird eye?" Sagawa smooths out his shirt, but seems unruffled by the exchange otherwise.
"I heard it was the baker in the North End who owes that million yen."
"Gosh, people think I'm fucking half the city." Sagawa taps a cigarette out of its glossy red carton and considers this. He thinks better of it. "Or probably the other way around, huh?“
"Dunno. Don't look like ya could survive a stiff breeze," Shimano mumbles.
Sagawa cackles; it's a stupid laugh, Shimano thinks, like he's choking on something, but at least it's genuine. He barely catches the unlit cigarette as it falls from his lips and laughs at that too. Shimano can't help an amused huff. This guy is so weird.
Sagawa clears his throat and says "Well, none of it's true, trust me." (Shimano does not.) "I got a girl out in Tennoji, actually, real cutie. Love for ya to meet her. Ya got a girl, Futoshi-kun? 'course ya do, good-looking guy like you.“
Shimano gives him nothing. A cicada cries out. Sagawa glides over it.
"Well, don't worry about it. Anyway. I've heard a lot ‘bout ya, too. Not much of it is good, 'fraid to say. But don'tcha worry, I don't believe a word of it either. Figure we should actually get to know each other, instead. I'd like for us to be friends."
What a narc - Shimano hates him again. He needs some time to think about how to handle this, how to best neutralize this guy in a way that doesn't lead back to him. "Yeah, that sounds great, aniki, but I'm kinda tired tonight, so-"
“I know something interesting about ya, though," Sagawa continues around his cigarette, cupping the end with one hand and lighting it with the other. He takes a drag, then lets out a long exhale that turns into a cough. "Well, about yer mom. She's a nurse, right?"
"What?“
"I shouldn't smoke here, c'mon." Sagawa strolls towards the compound entrance and into the street. This time, Shimano follows.
It's eerily silent at this hour, when all the bustling shops have long since been closed up. The setting summer sun casts long, cool shadows across everything; Sagawa turns his back on it to face Shimano, becomes an ominous blue silhouette against the orange sky. The cherry of his cigarette, in turn, glows brightly in the gloom.
"Yeah, yer mom's a nurse at University Hospital. Usually works the night shift, right?" Shimano says nothing, doesn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Sagawa's form consults its watch. "Probably walking there right now, since she likes to leave early. Ya must be worried about her though, getting off at four in the morning and walking back home alone in the dark."
"Especially when she cuts through..." Sagawa searches the horizon just behind Shimano, points to an alley between the florist and the hardware store. "...There, around quarter past. Y'know, someone got jumped there last month."
A sick feeling roils Shimano's stomach.
Sagawa sighs and the tip of his cigarette pulses. "She's a pretty lady too, especially when she puts her hair up with that tortoiseshell comb ya gave her. Man, if I were some kinda creep, prowlin' around for a good time..."
"You made yer point, Sagawa-han," Shimano interrupts, doing his level best not to scream it, to not bounce this sick fuck off the pavement, to not drag him into the alleyway to show him a good time with a broken bottle.
"Oh? Some respect, finally? Good." Sagawa's smile has become a sneer, and the apologetic upturn of his eyebrows now seems to say Ain't I such a fuck. "Now ya know a little something about me, too: I'm good at collecting money, but I'm even better at collecting information."
Anger and shame tighten in Shimano’s chest as he realizes he has to concede defeat. He hates to admit it, but Captain might be onto something - he can learn something from this accountant-ass little shit. A yakuza who doesn't use his fists... go figure.
"Got something to say, Futoshi-kun?“
Shimano’s glare makes Sagawa blink. "No, aniki."
He knows something else about Sagawa: no one in the Inoue family likes him. Shimano thinks it would be easy to get close to this guy, make him think they're friends. Being the Captain's pet dog might afford Sagawa cover now, but Captains move on, one way or another. He can bide his time, pick up a few new tricks and get back into the brass’s good graces while he waits. One day Sagawa will be forced to show his belly and Shimano will be right there, ready to stick him between the ribs. He's nothing if not patient.
"We're agreed, then. Yer gonna be a good little flunkie from now on, and do everything I say - just like Captain ordered ya.”
What an asshole, thinking he won’t get bitten by a tiger just because someone handed him its leash.
"Yes, aniki."
Now that he thinks the fight has left Shimano, Sagawa grows bored. He flicks what's left of his cigarette at the boy in front of him and stifles a yawn. "Right, well, meet me in front of the takoyaki place on Park Street tomorrow. Be there at six sharp. I won't show ‘til nine, but I'll know if yer not there on time."
Shimano grits his teeth. This is really going to test his patience.
Sagawa walks off, and in place of a good-bye he says over his shoulder, "And tell yer mom to take the bus!“
Yeah. Someday Shimano’s definitely going to leave this fucker bleeding out in an alleyway.