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"Hey, Amano." Chiba kind of slides up to Aoyagi's side and Aoyagi has a feeling he knows what's coming and that it's totally unnecessary. "Maybe y'oughta let one of us handle this."
"Nah, nah." Aoyagi waves a hand. "I got it."
He understands why Chiba is concerned. He does. Totally. They have to go talk to some dude over at Riichi Towers. The dude will insist upon a good game of mahjong. And the last time Aoyagi tried to play mahjong it was, uh. Kind of, uhh.
…embarrassing.
Listen. Aoyagi can play chess and shogi and go and all that shit. He's real good at this underground trading card game that's popped up around town. He lives and breathes strategy games. He's smart and he's got a good mind for tactics and he's good at that shit. And yet…
For all his tactical acumen, Aoyagi just… totally sucks ass at games of chance. Like. He has the worst fucking luck at this bullshit. And also, he kind of had a hard time wrapping his brain around mahjong.
But it's okay now. It is. He's been practicing. He knows how to play mahjong now. He might still lose, but at least he knows how to set the board up and shit.
"Relax," Aoyagi says as they walk in. "I got this."
"Yeah," Doc says somewhere behind him. "Listen, Amano. Not that we don't believe ya, it's just… I know my way around mahjong, how 'bout ya let me play the guy?"
"Hey, uh." Sugihara clears his throat. "Not that it's any of my beeswax, Doc, but uh… ain't 'knowin' yer way around mahjong' why yer first wife lef—"
"Mind yer business," Doc says in that cheerful yet threatening tone.
"I'm just sayin', what if ya lose all our—"
"Guys. I told ya. I've been practicing." Aoyagi spots the table where their guy is sat. "C'mon."
"Practicing how?" Doc asks.
Aoyagi shrugs. "On the computer." He turns around and sees his companions exchange a wary look. "I even win sometimes. It's fine."
Chiba puffs out a long, uncertain breath. "Awright, fine. Have at it."
With his companions thus placated, Aoyagi plops down in an empty seat at their guy's table. "Evenin'!" he chirps. "Mind if I join ya?"
"Not at all," their guy says.
"Cool. Oh hey, I got that—" Aoyagi, with the confidence of someone who doesn't know shit about shit, sweeps all of the tiles on the table into a pile and starts setting up. His fellow players, including their guy, are looking at him like he's grown a third ear right in the middle of his forehead. They're probably just… impressed at his skill for a beginner. That has to be it. "So… y'all wanna do pyramid style? Or maybe a boat? I can do a horse too if ya—"
The next thing he knows, Doc is gently prying tiles out of his hands, Chiba is lifting him out of his chair and carrying him towards the door, and Sugihara is holding said door.
"On the computer, huh?" Sugihara says, eyebrow cocked, as Chiba drags Aoyagi out of the mahjong parlor. "Shoulda guessed."
Half an hour later, Doc comes strolling out of Riichi Towers with a big grin and a stack of platinum plates.
"Holy shit," Aoyagi wheezes. "Didja get—"
"I got." Doc beams and lights a cigarette. "Boy, did I ever got. So the guy we really need to talk to hangs out in the casino. You know the one, on the river walk? Oh, and he'll only talk to high rollers."
Sugihara nods. "Got it. Hey, how 'bout you guys just hang out here? I got this."
"Aw, no. C'mon," Aoyagi whines. "I can do this one." The guys exchange that look again. "Okay. No. I know. The mahjong thing was… I know how to play casino shit, okay?"
"Yeah? How d'ya play blackjack?" Chiba asks. Aoyagi gets the distinct feeling he's being quizzed, and he doesn't care for it.
"Ya start with two cards," he says. "Object's to get closer to 21 than the dealer without goin' over. Ya say 'hit' to get another card n' 'stand' if yer happy with what ya got. Dealer has to hit on anything under 17. Ya happy with that or ya want me to talk about splittin' n' insurance n' shit too?"
"Awright, awright." Chiba holds up a hand while the others kind of nod. "I guess it's fine, then."
So once again, Aoyagi feels three pairs of apprehensive eyes on his back as he approaches a table with a nice fat stack of chips (courtesy of Doc cashing in his own winnings). And he sits down at the blackjack table.
His very first hand: one king, one queen.
Hell yes, he's going to stand! His hand is practically bulletproof and the dealer's got a ten and a six and he has to hit, there are only four fives in a deck and the chances of any of them being in the dealer's hand are—
"—and five makes twenty-one, ladies and gentlemen! Dealer wins."
"…huh!?" Aoyagi blinks at the dealer's hand. Sure enough. Well, shit! Okay. No. Fine. That was an unlucky break, is all.
Aoyagi is a platinum plate and a half worth of lost bets deep when Sugihara leans in. "Hey. Maybe try another game."
Yeah. Another game. Sure. Good idea! Aoyagi glances around the room. Ah. Poker. A little more complex, but he's got the gist of it.
His very first hand: four kings. Holy shit! Holy shit! He swaps out the odd man in hopes of a joker and instead gets a four. Ah well. The chances of anyone at this table having anything better than four kings is—
"Four aces from the lovely lady at the end of the table!"
Huh!?
Aoyagi stares, open-mouthed, as a classy lady in a sequined evening gown giggles and rakes her colossal pile of chips to her plentiful bosom. And he is not staring at the plentiful bosom.
Is she cheating? Could be.
He bets on another hand. He gets a straight.
The lady at the end gets two pair, and Aoyagi smiles at his luck.
The salaryman at the other end gets a straight flush, and Aoyagi takes back the nice things he thought about his luck.
On his next hand, he gets a straight flush. Okay. No. Surely this is it. Surely he'll win this one.
The gramma next to him gets a royal flush, and Aoyagi curses his luck and fate and God and whoever else might be listening.
(Later, Sugihara will tell Aoyagi that at this point, he casually made eye contact with a security camera and asked, as if talking to himself, if the house was crooked or Aoyagi just had shit luck, and several seconds later he received a text reading, simply: the latter.)
He tries roulette. No matter where he puts his chips, no matter how many spots he covers, the fucking ball lands literally anywhere other than a single thing Aoyagi bet on.
"Awright," Sugihara sighs. "I'm takin' over before ya bleed all our money out."
"Technically," Doc says, "that's my money Amano's bleedin' out. Get 'im outta here, Chiba."
And once again, Aoyagi feels himself being gently lifted out of his seat and carried towards the door.
An hour later, Sugihara comes out of the casino with a great big grin and a big stack of platinum plates, two of which he hands to Doc.
"Piece o' cake," Sugihara says. "What? It's just RNG. I make that shit sit up n' bark for a livin'."
"Holy shit," Aoyagi wheezes. "So… did ya get the—"
"Oh! Shit, yeah, almost forgot. Yeah, the dude we really need to talk to is hangin' out at the other gamblin' hall. Y'know, the Japanese one? The kinda secret one upstairs from Stihl?"
"Oh hell yeah," Chiba says. "Yeah, I know where yer talkin' about! Shit, I even know the password already."
"Great!" Aoyagi claps his hands together and grins. "Lead the way! I ain't great with the hanafuda games but shit don't get much easier than cho-han, so—"
He looks around at his companions, who have all stopped in their tracks. Who are all turning, slowly, ominously, to stare at him.
"…what?"
An hour and a half later, while Doc and Sugihara continue to physically block the storeroom door that leads to the secret gambling hall and Aoyagi continues to stew and seethe and nurse a lime juice-and-soda from a highball glass, Chiba comes marching back in with the biggest, smuggest grin and the biggest stack of platinum plates.
"Ya get the guy?" Sugihara asks, because Aoyagi can't seem to ungrind his teeth long enough.
"I got the guy," Chiba beams. "Oh here, here's what ya spotted me." He hands Sugihara two platinum plates. "Wanna head over to Ebisu n' cash these shitters in, then run back to HQ so we can talk without the whole world hearin'?"
"What the fuck, Chiba?" Aoyagi whines. "Ya didn't even let me try."
"Yeah, well…" Chiba scratches sheepishly at the back of his head. "I kinda got a… history with this shit."
"A history," Aoyagi repeats, deadpan.
"Well, I, uh." Chiba clears his throat. "Kinda got banned from every dagashiya in town when I was a kid 'cause of it."
"What," Sugihara prods, "Were ya cheatin' all the other kids out of their allowance on the premises, or—"
"The owners," Chiba mumbles. "I, um. Used to play oicho-kabu with 'em. And, uh. Y'know." He clears his throat. "I still dunno what they were so mad about, I just turned around n' spent the money on candy n' shit…"