Chapter 2:
Errand Boy
Akira's legs felt heavy and unwieldly as he walked along the sidewalk. It was dark out, meaning he had been at the bar for about three hours when he only intended to be there for one. His stomach ached and his hands felt clammy nestled in the pockets of his jeans, but it was his head's not quite painful but more than annoying throbbing that spurred him on to get home quicker so he could finally lay down in front of his television.
The streets were unusually quiet, even for the small town he lived in. Houses he passed had lights on inside, though no one was even on their front porches or lawns. A dog barked from a yard somewhere to his right and the moon shone brightly overhead, bathing the streets in a blueish hue mixing almost relaxingly with the bright, artificially white beams of the streetlights. The scene was enough to at least distract the young man from the sensation of his limbs feeling like they had no bones and his head like someone was constantly tapping his skull from the inside.
The sound of his blood thumping in his ears was almost enough to drown out the muffled whimpering of a woman ahead of him. Almost.
Akira's focus snapped back to reality when the muffled whimpering began to grow in volume and intensity. There was an alley to his right; the sound was obviously coming from there. Akira quickly but quietly made his way to the entrance of the alley and hid behind the closest wall, listening intently.
"I-I really have to go now!" a woman said, sounding not much older than Akira. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here! I, uh, I have work in the morning!"
She's obviously lying. The hell did I just walk into?
"C'mon, Sshaya," a gruff, older man's voice slurred, "you don't need to go into work in the morning. I can pay you for any wages you may have mished."
"I'm not a damn hooker!" Akira peaked out from behind the wall, getting a good look at the incident. He saw a woman with long dark hair and youthful features, likely around twenty-three years old, struggling in the grips of a tall, bald, intense looking man in an expensive suit and glasses. He was holding her arms tight as she began to flail violently, kicking his legs and thrashing her body around, but obviously to no avail. Even in his drunken state, the man was strong enough to pin Saya to the wall while hardly budging from her struggling. "Just let me go or I'll call the police!"
"You're making thish so damn difficult!" the man shouted in her face. "I didn't have to do any of this for you, you know? I think I deserve a bit of payment!"
"Help!" the woman called Saya shouted into the darkness. "Please, help me!"
"And who the hell is gonna listen to you in a shmall town like this, huh?"
Don't get too confident in that, jackass. "Hey!" Akira shouted, rounding the corner and standing tall in the entrance to the alley. The struggling between the two people halted briefly, with Saya's eyes fixating on Akira. "The lady told you to piss off, so why don't you be a gentleman and do so?"
"Please help me!" Saya shouted, slowly becoming hysterical.
"Shut up, woman!" the man screamed in her face. "And you! This isn't a peep show, kid! This is grown up business! Get lost before I get mad!" The man's grip on Saya's wrists tightened, causing her to yelp in pain. Akira felt his instincts begin to take over; waiting around to negotiate was not going to work on this guy. He had to act, and quickly.
"Get off of me!" Saya screamed and kicked the man's shin with what strength she could muster, causing him to tighten his grip more but lose some of his balance. Gotcha.
While he was distracted, Akira sprinted toward the man, closing the gap in a couple seconds, but giving him just enough time to see the man turn his face to him in surprise. Akira raised his fist and jabbed it forward with the whole force of his bodyweight behind the punch going directly into the man's nose. He made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a cough, and fell on his back on the cold, hard pavement. Saya fell to the ground beside him but recovered instantly, getting behind Akira and hiding behind his shoulders. As he stood in a fighting stance ready to follow up if needed, he could feel Saya's hands come onto his shoulders. They were shaking and gripping at his collar bone in a way that was almost painful.
The bald man sat up, covering his nose as it poured blood from his nostrils, seeping even through his fingers. He grunted in pain and looked up at Akira with a vengeful glare. "Damn brat," he muttered, "I'll kill you!"
"You're too drunk stand straight or even take a punch how do you think you'll do if you come at me? The 'damn brat' who just smashed your fucking nose?"
Before the man could react, another man's voice sounded off from behind Akira. "What's going on here?" a gruff, middle-aged man said as Akira became illuminated with a flashlight. He turned around to see two police officers shining their flashlights on the group with one hand, and their pistols at the ready with the other. "We received noise complaints and reports of an altercation," said the first officer, "and you three seem to fit the bill. Hands up and come quietly."
Akira looked to Saya, who still insisted on holding onto his shoulders. "Just my luck," Akira muttered, and raised his hands as the officers moved in to make the arrest.
The young man blinked as the flashlights temporarily blinded him, and when he opened his eyes again, he was laying on a bed, staring at the ceiling. His body felt clammy and sweaty and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Akira slowly sat up on the bed and took in his surroundings. The same guest room he had been in last night, confirming to him that he actually was now in the care of a yakuza.
Akira rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but behind his eyelids all he saw was the face of the man he had assaulted. He saw a flash of the man turning to face him, and then another flash of him on the ground, trying to stop his nose from bleeding. Those images appeared pervasively in his mind more times than he cared to admit; there was just something about the experience, be it only a few seconds of an experience, that stuck with him. Though, it was not for the reasons one would normally suspect.
Such an intense experience would normally leave a person as young as Akira scarred, or at the very least rattled, but he felt no such thing when looking back on that night. His gut twisted, but not with disgust, but more like the feeling one gets when climbing the first hill of a rollercoaster. He felt energized, excited when gazing into the vengeful eyes of that man. Everything following the arrival of the police was more or less a blur, but every second, every detail leading up to the event was as clear as day to him. Knowing this concerned Akira, but only slightly.
Sometimes he wondered if the reason he remembered it so well was that he had enjoyed it, but he quickly banished the idea from his mind anytime it occurred.
Akira got to his feet and rubbed his temple, his senses still hazy from being in such a deep sleep. He opened the door and stepped out into the main area of the penthouse, the morning sunlight of the waning summer season illuminating everything in a soft yellow glow. He looked around and noticed that everything, from the furniture to the dishes, seemed untouched since last night, and his eyes falling on the dishes and refrigerator served also to remind him of how hungry he was. His stomach grumbled impatiently.
Akira quickly made his way around the kitchen in search of something of sustenance until he found a box of sugary cereal. The normalcy of such food betrayed Akira's impressions of Sojiro from the previous night, expecting everything in the apartment to be fine cuisine to be paired with overly specific bottles of wine, but here it was, in all its peasant glory: some sugary cereal and some milk. It was simple, basic, and all together opposite to what Akira expected of a yakuza boss, but those very things are what gave him some slight bit of comfort.
The last twelve hours had been complete and total chaos for the young man, and anything that would make him feel even the slightest bit at home, even if it was just a bowl of cereal, felt like a luxury in the moment.
As Akira sat down at the table to begin his breakfast, his stomach growling all the more in anticipation, he was interrupted by the sound of two… no, three sets of footsteps descending the staircase from the upper floor. Sure enough, down came the two escorts from last night and Sojiro, the three of them making polite conversation and beginning their goodbye's.
"Thank you for the wonderful night, ladies," Sojiro said to them in a gentlemanly but also distinctly confident and husky tone. "I only hope you had as much fun as I did."
"Oh, we had a great time!" the one to the right responded. "But I still doubt we had as much fun as you, Sojiro." Her tone was flirtatious and all three of the group laughed at her remark.
"Just call us if you ever wanna have fun again!" said the girl on the left. "We'll make whatever arrangements needed to make it happen."
"I appreciate that greatly," Sojiro bowed as he called the elevator for them. "Have a great day, ladies. Take care of yourselves."
"Thank you, Sojiro!" the girls said in unison. "See you around!" With that, the girls stepped into the elevator, whispering and giggling to themselves, and were gone.
"Hoo boy," Sojiro said under his breath. He stretched his back and cracked his neck, seemingly ignoring the younger man a few feet to his left. The young man in question was left completely struck dumb with how to tackle a situation like this. Sojiro turned around and smirked at Akira, crossing his arms over his chest as he did. "Still alive, kid?" he asked condescendingly. "You look like you're having a stroke, you're so rigid."
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," the young man replied in possibly the most awkward tone he could ever produce. "Just, uh, didn't want to interrupt you three."
"Uh huh, sure." Sojiro made his way to the refrigerator and pulled out some sort of protein shake, and began drinking it as if nothing the least bit awkward just occurred. "I see you've made yourself at home," he said nonchalantly.
"Trying to, at least," Akira took another bite of his cereal, now starting to go soggy. "I guess if my parents trust you, then I can at least trust that the food isn't poison or something."
Sojiro chuckled at that as he swallowed another swig of the shake, causing him to sputter for a moment. "Kid, I haven't done anything like that in a very long time. I'm not gonna hurt you, unless you don't pull your weight or just do something stupid."
"That some kind of threat?" Akira glared at him.
Sojiro chuckled again. "Hoo boy, Anri raised a fighter, now didn't she? That's a good scowl you got, Akira. Eyes narrowed, higher arched eyebrows, pursed lips, it could make you into a good hustler or muscle. Or it can land you in a dumpster outside a Big Bang Burger."
Akira's scowl immediately softened as Sojiro's tone turned from sarcastic to cynical. "Sorry. It's a habit, I guess."
"And just like that, your backbone is gone. God, you're never gonna make it in this business being so wishy-washy, kid."
"I told you, I'm not gonna be in 'the business'. Hell, I don't even know if anything you've said so far is really true!"
"Calm down, Kurusu," Sojiro raised his hand as confidently as a king. The young man was immediately silenced. "I agree, there is more that needs to be discussed about your situation, and I didn't expect you to wake up this morning ready to head out and shake down some brick and mortar store. That's why you're gonna give your mother a call and listen to her explain all this."
Akira was once again left embarrassingly speechless. He had wanted to contact his family but figured he would have to make some kind of daring escape before he would be able. Now he was just told that he was going to get all this explained to him by his own flesh and blood. "Um, wha…?" was about as eloquent as he was able to muster.
"Don't look so shocked, kid. I would have given you the opportunity last night, but you looked more out of it than you probably were aware. But you seem to be fine this morning, so why don't you grab the phone over there," he motioned toward the phone wired to the wall, "and put in a good word with your mom for me, huh? I've got to take care of some business today, but you and I still have some things to discuss, so try to make it quick, will you?"
Akira shot up from his seat without a word and picked up the phone so quickly it almost flew out of his hands. He frantically dialed his home and held the phone to his ear, the dial tone finally finishing. Sojiro stepped out of the kitchen and made his way upstairs, shaking his head as he did, but Akira did not notice. With stomach turning anticipation, he waited for the phone to be picked up. C'mon, pick up, pick up, pick—
"Hello, Kurusu residence," a woman's voice answered in a kindly, normal tone.
"Mom!?"
The woman on the other line gasped into the phone. "Akira?! Akira, is that you?"
"Yeah, mom, it's me!" When he heard his mother's voice, the young man surmised that what he felt in that moment was leagues beyond anything he would experience if he had just been handed a million yen check, or some other extravagant gift. He could not help the smile that was immediately plastered on his face. "God, I'm so glad to hear from you!"
"I'm so, so glad too, honey! Are you okay? Have you been hurt or something?"
"No, mom, I'm fine. At least physically." His rapid, pounding heartbeat may have implied otherwise though, but he was too elated to care or even notice. "Look, so much has happened in the last day, and I'm not really sure what's going on, but some old creep that I'm apparently staying with said that you would know what was really happening. I wanna know everything, mom. Why am I here? Who are these guys? And… and, uh…" Try as the man might, the final question caught in his mouth like food down the wrong pipe.
"Do I really know any yakuza?" Anri finished the sentence for him.
"Well, yeah. That too."
There was a long pause, followed by a sigh before his mother responded. Akira leaned back against the counter, suddenly feeling some sort of exhaustion, but whether it was from the stress of the last few days or his emotional state, he could not tell. "That old creep you referred to is Sojiro, an old friend of my family, honey. I've known him most of my life, but we ended up… taking different paths before you were born. That's why you never knew him."
"But is he really a yakuza is my question, mom."
"Yes, Akira. He is."
Akira's elation began to give way to a creeping anger, a sense of betrayal and deception. "And you're one too, mom?"
"No, I'm not," Anri responded immediately.
"But you were?"
Anri did not respond immediately. "Yes, honey," she said slowly.
Akira's unoccupied hand curled into a fist, and he let out a long sigh. "Why didn't you tell me any of this? I thought I was being kidnapped, for god's sake!"
"I know, Akira, and I'm so, so sorry. It was just, well, I left that all behind me before you were born. I really did. I cut a lot of ties and burned a lot of bridges to get out of that life so I could live my life as a normal woman, a normal wife," she paused, "a normal mother."
Words were continuously becoming harder and harder for Akira to find as more and more information flooded his mind. It was as if every word his mother uttered erased and stunted his vocabulary and speech, replacing it all with knowledge he wished he would have never known. "And I dragged you back into it, huh?"
"No, Akira, I promise you did no such thing. You got caught in a bad situation and tried to do what was right. It was just bad luck that it was a dangerous man. I don't blame you for anything, I promise."
"So why am I here? Why aren't we in witness protection or something?"
"It's not that simple, Akira," she replied suspiciously quickly. "Look, you may hate me for all this, and for what I'm about to say, but that's about all I can tell you right now, for your own safety."
"What the hell does that mean?!"
"I'm sorry, sweetie," Anri said, now obviously on the verge of tears, causing Akira's heart to feel as if it had fallen into his stomach. "I promise, this is for all our good. I trust Sojiro with my life and yours, I know he has the best intentions with all this and he has the influence to make something of it. Just please, Akira, I'm trusting you to be a man and see this through. All I ask is that you trust that I would never do anything to hurt you."
Akira was the one that paused this time. A part of him wanted to scream and destroy the furnishings, or anything else he could get his hands on. Another part wanted to lock himself in a closet and cry, maybe sneak a stash of beer in with him, just anything to make him forget about the world and his situation. But the largest part of him just wanted his mother to feel secure and that he was safe. He took a deep breath and unclenched his fist, relaxing himself as best he could. "Okay," he said slowly. "I trust you, mom."
"Oh, thank you, Akira."
"But I'm still not happy with any of this."
"And I didn't expect you to be. Just follow what Sojiro says, and don't do anything reckless. This will all be over before we know it, I promise."
Akira responded in a lower tone than before, his elation and sense of comfort diminishing with every breath. "You're making a lot of promises, mom."
"Because I know everything is going to be okay."
"Because you were a yakuza?"
"Because I am your mother, Akira." Her voice shaky again, and obviously offended by his implication. Akira cursed himself for that remark.
"Right, sorry, mom. I'm just… really, really stressed right now. Actually, that word doesn't cut it. I'm not sure even what I feel right now, but it's like I'm gonna explode any minute. I don't know what to do, what to say—"
"You'll make it, Akira," she interrupted him. "You'll be okay. You're a strong, good young man, and I'm positive everything will be alright."
Akira's anger and confusion subsided if only be the smallest percentage. He felt the knot in his gut become ever so slightly less tight at his mother's calming tone and words. He swore that moms had some sort of magic spell they could infuse into their speech whenever their child really needed reassurance or to calm down. "Okay," he finally responded. "I'll do my best."
"And you're best is all you'll need." That made Akira smile a little, his expression soften just a bit. "I'm so glad to hear your voice, honey. I'll tell your father right when he gets home that you're okay. And Akira, I promise that soon you'll know everything that's been going on. It's just not a good time. You'll understand soon."
"Okay, I'll be waiting. Thanks, mom."
"You're welcome, Akira. Stay safe, and call me when you get the chance."
"I will, I promise." Knowing that he had to say goodbye and return the real world was almost enough to make the young man vomit, but he knew he had to stay strong, at least appear to be for his mom. He was a strong young man, she had said so, and his mom was always right. At least, that's what she said. "Bye, mom. I love you."
"I love you too, sweetie. Bye." There was a rattle on the other line, and then Anri hanged up, leaving not but the dial tone to assault Akira's ear. Slowly, he put the phone back as well and let out a deep breath. Crossing his arms, he then leaned back against the counter again and stared into space, trying to process the incredible amount of information he had just received.
"So, she was a yakuza," he said to himself. "But she never said anything about dad. I wonder if he knows about all this."
"You gonna stand there all day and talk to yourself, kid?" the voice of Sojiro said from around the corner. The man accompanying the voice then emerged from behind the wall, hands in pockets.
"Were you eavesdropping, old man?"
"Didn't have to, you were loud enough as is. And besides, I already knew everything you and Anri were talking about, kid. You're the one that was getting caught up."
"Touche," Akira replied dismissively.
"Hoo boy," Sojiro said, putting his hands on his hips, "you're gonna be a tough one, Kurusu. Just so you know, that kind of attitude is only an asset when you've worked your way up the ladder a bit in this business." Sojiro paused, looking Akira up and down inquisitively. "Ah, you're not arguing about being in the business now, huh? Your mom really worked some magic on you."
"I'm not happy about any of it," Akira interjected with a glare. "But my mom said that you can be trusted, I just have to follow the rules or whatever. If that's what it takes to get out of this mess, then fine. I'll do it."
Sojiro chuckled and crossed his arms. "Such a serious young man. Keep that icy glare about you and you might end up being one of my best new lackeys, Akira. A dangerous but commanding aura is exactly what you need to be a good hustler, and that's exactly what I was going to talk to you about."
"Already shipping me out to work for you, Sojiro?"
"More or less, yeah." Akira raised an eyebrow at the older gentleman. "You see, I actually have another lackey about your age currently working over a small business a couple blocks down. He's scheduled to have a discussion with the owner of a little restaurant this morning, and expected to get him to sign up for some protective services by lunch. It'll be easy, the job is already mostly done, just gotta iron out the last details. I want you to go down there and meet up with the kid. He'll wrap up his job then give you a little tour of the neighborhood, probably take you somewhere nice, but not too nice or it's coming out of his paycheck," Sojiro chuckled again.
"So you want me to just sit around and watch him work then let him butter me up?" Akira asked impatiently.
"God, don't you ever smile, kid? But, yeah, that's basically it. I'm the Boss, as you know, and it would be bad for my image were I to show the new gopher the ropes, and image is very, very important in this business. So for this reason, Sakamoto-kun will be providing your orientation. A bit of a punk, that one, but he's committed, which is a rare trait in most newbies these days."
"Sakamoto, huh? Fine, I'll go see him. Just say when and where."
Sojiro sighed. "You've got a lot to learn, Kurusu, especially with how to talk with your superiors. All in good time, I suppose. The kid will be down at the Nishikiyama bar and café in about fifteen minutes. It's just a couple blocks south of here, can't miss it."
"Thanks, be seeing you."
As Akira started to make his way to his room to change, Sojiro interrupted him by coughing into his hand. "That's not how you say goodbye to your boss, Kurusu."
Akira's lips pursed, feeling awash in indignation. Slowly turning to the older man, he bowed and said in an almost comedically insincere tone, "Thank you for the information, sir. I hope you have a good day."
Sojiro's eyes narrowed, looking more annoyed than angry. "Just hope to God you never do that with anyone else." Sojiro walked right past the younger man and into the elevator. Without another word, the doors closed, and the Boss was gone.
"Crotchety old kook," Akira muttered, rolling his eyes as he made his way to his room to change.
When he had donned better clothing, a pair of grey slacks and red button-up conveniently found in his closet in his exact size, he made his way out the LeBlanc hotel and southward to his supposed destination. Though it was still breakfast time, the streets were already bustling with people coming and going between shops and cafes. Akira simply put his hands in his pockets and walked on down the street. The young man received some sideways glances from passersby, as if they suspected as to his new impromptu profession, a summation likely helped by the annoyed glare he wore on his face. At first, he found the implication to be worrying, but there was something about the looks of suspicion (and dare he think fear?) that was almost… exhilarating.
After a few minutes of walking and confusion, he finally came on the Nisjikiyama bar and café. It was quaint, small, very much a mom and pop kind of establishment. And it was closed. It was going on ten a.m. at the time and the sign on the door said it would not open until 11:30. "So, what? Are we expected to break in?" he thought aloud.
"Yo," came a male voice from Akira's right. Walking up to him along the sidewalk was a fit, muscular looking young man with short, spiky blond hair. He wore a white coat and slacks over a red tribal pattern shirt with a necklace of tiny gold rings wrapped around his neck. As the young man approached Akira, he took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, followed by producing a lighter from his breast pocket and lighting the little roll of chemicals. All these elements came together to exemplify the image of a well-dressed, cultured thug. "You the new kid, huh?" he asked in a vocal register that sounded slightly younger than he appeared to be.
Akira maintained his slight scowl and pursed lips as the thuggish young man approached him, unsure as to exactly how much danger he could potentially be in at the moment. "Yeah, that's me," he replied curtly. "And you're Sakamoto, I'm guessing."
"That's me." Sakamoto put the lighter back in his pocket and took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out a puff of smoke away from Akira's face. "But you can call me Ryuji. What can I call you?"
"Akira. Kurusu Akira."
Ryuji lifted an eyebrow at the dark-haired young man. "You wake up with a pole up your ass this morning, Akira? You look like you're ready to cave someone's head in."
"Let's just say it's been a long weekend."
Ryuji looked unimpressed, almost offended, but then laughed lightly to himself as he took another puff of his cigarette. "Well, hopefully we can blow off some of that steam once we're done here, man. Shouldn't take too long."
"The restaurant's closed," Akira looked to the door. "What, are we just gonna wait for the next hour and half?"
"God, you are green, man," Ryuji remarked lightheartedly. "You're not some civilian salaryman, Akira." Ryuji walked up to the door and knocked on it with his knuckle just hard enough as to not seem friendly. He turned back to Akira as he put his cigarette in a disposal can. "You're a yakuza, man. Open and closing times don't mean anything to you." Through the window, Akira saw a middle aged man peer out the door. His curious expression quickly changed to one of considerable fear as he shuffled his way to the entrance. "See?" Ryuji smirked. "What did I say? Now wipe that killer mug off your face, we're here for business, not a barfight."
"Noted. Anything else I oughta know?"
"Yeah, sure: don't fuck with the conversation."