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Aoyagi has known the Chairman for three years and as far as he can remember, this is the first time he's ever seen the man "out of uniform," so to speak. Every time Aoyagi's seen him, he's been in a full three-piece Italian suit—black, naturally. Tie tight, buttons buttoned, all proper and classy and shit. Aoyagi wondered at one point if he ever took the thing off.
(Sugihara assured him that yes, he did in fact take it off every night, and sometimes at other times of the day too if Aoyagi got his drift, and Aoyagi stopped him right there because that was more information than he really needed.)
But when Aoyagi comes trudging in unscheduled with a briefcase containing the Kijin Clan's cut of the cafe's profits one Tuesday night, he thinks for a second he's got the wrong office. The guy leaning back in his comfy leather executive desk chair has the right build, and he has the ponytail. But his jacket is missing. So is his tie. Aoyagi notices them draped over the back of one of the other comfy leather chairs in the office. The Chairman is practically lounging in that chair, top button undone (though he's still wearing the vest), sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing a stunning amount of Kazabori-sensei's finest handiwork—Aoyagi can make out the twisting forms of black snakes winding around the Chairman's forearms, along with some kind of brilliant orange flowers.
And, Aoyagi notices, he's idly swirling a glass of brown liquid with a big old iceball in it, which is extra weird.
Aoyagi clears his throat. "I thought ya didn't drink, Chairman."
"Ah." The Chairman doesn't seem too surprised to see him, but he does look a little puzzled. "Amano-kun. This is unexpected. Isn't it about time for dinner rush?"
"Ojisan bought me out," Aoyagi says. He tries to play it cool but the look the Chairman gives him hints that maybe he's not as cool about it as he'd like to be. "Figured I might as well bring yer cut over."
"What did he say to you?"
"Nothin'."
"That isn't a 'nothing' face you're wearing."
Aoyagi's jaw tightens.
Ya still that sore at him, Amano?
"Nothin' perverted, if that's what yer worried about."
The Chairman grimaces a little as he sets his glass down and rises from his seat. "The thought had crossed my mind, given who we're talking about. But I won't pry. Think fast."
"Hup—" Aoyagi drops the briefcase with a thunk as a wooden dagger comes flying at him out of nowhere. To his credit, he only juggles it a little this time, and despite his sour mood he can't help but grin. "I was about to ask if ya had time to go a couple rounds."
Aoyagi appreciates these little training sessions. He does. He knows the Chairman is a busy man and doesn't have to take time out of his day to do this. And let's be real here: the Chairman is real fuckin' good with a blade and, Aoyagi thinks, is exactly the teacher he needs to get him ready in case Majima ever finds out he's still breathing and comes to finish the job himself.
He appreciates the Chairman training him but goddamn, he's fucking brutal.
Aoyagi knows damn well the Chairman is holding back when they spar. And even when he's holding back, he's still fighting way above Aoyagi's pay grade and weight class. The man moves with the grace of a dancer and strikes with surgical precision, and at the same time there's something almost feral about the way he fights, like there's a demon he keeps chained up inside him, a demon that's this close to breaking through to the surface at any given moment. Aoyagi knows damn well it doesn't make a lick of difference if the Chairman is fighting with a real blade or a wooden one—this is serious business and if Aoyagi fucks up here, he's going to feel it for days to come.
The Chairman comes at him. Sidestep, parry, counter. A little clunky, but successful.
"Good," the Chairman hisses, ponytail whipping majestically behind him as he slithers back into his fighting stance. "Again."
Fuck's sake.
After what feels like about thirty years of this shit, Aoyagi and the Chairman return to the latter's office. Aoyagi flops into the chair that doesn't have an expensive Italian suit jacket and silk tie draped over it. "Well?" he wheezes as the Chairman pours himself a fresh glass of whatever's in that decanter. "How am I doin'?"
"You move like a minivan with a dagger duct-taped to the door handle," the Chairman says with a smirk and a wicked little sparkle in his eyes.
"Wow. Don't sugarcoat it or anything, damn."
"But," the Chairman goes on, opening a desk drawer, "you clearly understand the theory and strategy involved, and you've demonstrated a… marginally passable ability to apply that knowledge in a fight." He takes a box out of the drawer and brings it over to the table between Aoyagi's chair and the one currently keeping the Chairman's jacket off the floor. "Pops had this made for you at the same time as your professional piece. He wanted to give it to you right away. I convinced him to let me decide when you could be trusted not to put an eye out with—"
Aoyagi thought he did a decent job of hiding the eye twitch, but apparently not.
"My apologies. That was… a poor choice of words." The Chairman clears his throat and gestures towards the box. "Go on, then."
Aoyagi lifts the lid off the box. Nestled in a soft bed of blue silk, there's a sheathed tanto. Patent-leather glossy black lacquered wood, with a shimmery deep-sea blue inlaid snake wrapped around the whole length. When Aoyagi slides the blade free, he sees that it's the same beautifully patterned damascus steel as the chef knife Ojisan gifted him that first year. "Aw, gee, Ojisan," Aoyagi breathes as he watches the light play along the razor-sharp blade. "Knives again?"
"Honestly," the Chairman says, swirling that stuff that sure as hell looks like whiskey as he muses, "for all your knife skill in the kitchen, I would have expected you to have more experience with a blade as a weapon."
"Yeah," Aoyagi says, sliding the dagger back into its sheath and tucking the whole thing into the back of his waistband. It's a little uncomfortable. At the same time, it's reassuring in a way. "I asked Majima to teach me back then. He wouldn't do it. Said some shit about how I wasn't gonna win the big fights with a blade or my fists or anything, I was gonna win 'em with my brain." He snorts out a dry laugh. "Maybe he just didn't want me turnin' his own shit against him."
The Chairman gives him kind of a weird look. "If he were to come to Sotenbori," he starts, and Aoyagi already doesn't like where this is going, "do you believe you'd be prepared to face him?"
Does Aoyagi want to believe he's prepared for that? Sure. He's spent the last three years daydreaming about wringing Majima's neck, or suplexing him into the river, or punting him into traffic, or whatever. He likes to think he knows exactly how he'd do unto Majima as Majima tried to do unto him in any setting, any time, any place the son of a bitch might show up. Hell yes, he thinks, he'd be prepared.
"Hell no," he says out loud, because he knows better. "I guess he wasn't wrong. A little guy like me? Against a monster like him? Might as well flap my arms n' try to fly to Mars." He laughs again, just as humorless. "Only reason I did any good against ya tonight is 'cause you're drunk."
"Not at all." The Chairman smiles. "It's as you said. I don't drink. Likely for the same reason as you."
"Then what's that yer sippin' on?"
"I do find," the Chairman says as he gets up, "that at times, going through the motions helps me think. Care to join me?"
"The motions, huh?" Aoyagi shakes his head. "Yeah. Sure. Why not. Now I'm curious."
He watches as the Chairman drops a big old iceball into a second glass and pours that brown liquid from that fancy decanter over it. When the Chairman hands him the glass, he takes a cautious sniff, bracing for the sting of alcohol in his sinuses. It doesn't come. What he gets instead is something sweet. A little hit of rich roasty aroma. Not quite like coffee, but more like…
He takes a sip to confirm it. "It's mugicha," he laughs. The Chairman chuckles and settles back into his chair with his own glass.
"Usually, yes. Sometimes Earl Grey. Sometimes Kei-chan finds some unusual blend online and orders it for me." He takes a long drink of his own tea.
Aoyagi catches himself staring. He doesn't think he's ever seen… well, any of the Chairman's ink before, certainly not up this close. He tries to be cool about it, but… well, who the fuck are we talking about, here? He glances away just as the Chairman notices him staring.
"Sorry," Aoyagi chuckles. "Ya just… got a lot of ink."
"Indeed I do." The Chairman doesn't seem offended. He takes another sip of the motions. "Neck to ankles."
"Shit."
The Chairman doesn't say anything for a while, just watches the chunk of ice swirl around as Aoyagi nurses his own glass of tea.
"Amano-kun… how well do you know your flower language?"
Aoyagi shrugs. He knows a little. His brother's azaleas. Majima's cherry blossoms. The zinnias Utabori-sensei outlined on his own back, the ones he hasn't quite felt ready to let Kazabori-sensei color in. Those, he knows. "Not real sure I know what orange lilies are for."
"Kei-chan has them as well." The Chairman holds up one impressively inked forearm and studies one of the fiery blossoms. "Once, they represented something that drove us both. Now they serve as a warning."
"A… warning?"
The Chairman takes a long drink of his tea. "When what I'd gone to Tokyo to do was done," he says, "I tied up all the loose ends. I disbanded the Murasaki Family. I ceded my territory and a substantial swath of my informant network to the Florist. I brought Kei-chan home to Sotenbori. And then…" He chuckles, softly, a little embarrassed. "And then that's when it sank in, I suppose. It's ridiculous. For all my scheming and preparation, for all my contingency plans upon contingency plans, I just... hadn't stopped to think about what I'd do with myself for the rest of my life after it was done."
Aoyagi's eyes narrow. "Revenge," he says. "They mean revenge."
"You have every right to be angry with him, Amano-kun. I dare say, even to hate him." The Chairman kills off his drink. "I have precious little room to lecture you on the subject, but… please don't let that become all that drives you."