A/N: One-shot set in Chapters 17-19 of 'Transformation of a White Tiger' - make sure you read that first, because there are spoilers and you might not understand who is who as this is written from an outsider's POV.
Fujisawa Saka, 45, manager of Midori Bar; rushed around the kitchen worriedly. "Kuroda-sama is coming tonight, guys. I want everybody on their best behaviour. No picking fights with customers, no half-hearted service, no dirty dishes lying around!" He barked at his staff.
"Yes, Manager." All of them replied. It wasn't just the Manager's head on the line anyway. None of them was out of reach for the Wakagashira of the Oedo clan. He was not just a major Yakuza boss, but their ultimate employer as well; since his company owned the bar they worked at.
At seven o' clock sharp, the Wakagashira walked in, accompanied by a man his age. They were chatting amicably. The Wakagashira did not seem the least bit threatening, but the Manager knew that looks could be deceiving. Not any average Joe could hold both the position of CEO of the Red Lion Group of Companies and the Wakagashira of the Oedo clan simultaneously.
The Manager bowed to his waist respectfully. "Kuroda-sama." He greeted.
The Wakagashira turned to look at him. "Oh, Manager Fujisawa. Nice to see you again. Is the room upstairs ready?" He asked pleasantly.
"Of course, Kuroda-sama. Please, come this way." He led both of them to the private room upstairs. The entire room was self-sufficient, so they did not need to come downstairs to use the facilities or grab a drink. There was even a dumb-waiter connected to the room, so the waiters were not required to enter the room if the Wakagashira so wished.
The Wakagashira eyed the room approvingly once he and his companion were showed inside. "I like the ambiance, Manager Fujisawa. You've done a good job with the renovation."
The Manager preened proudly. "Thank you, Kuroda-sama. Would you prefer the waiters to serve you personally; or would you prefer to have your privacy?"
The Wakagashira smiled. "The waiters can come in. I have another two guests coming, by the way. One by the name of Odagiri, and another by the name of Yabuki. Make sure you show them here."
"Yes, sir. I'll go downstairs to wait for them now, sir." The Manager bowed and left.
About 10 minutes later, the Manager saw a young man in his twenties enter the bar. He held an air of confidence that was similar to the Wakagashira and his companion. The Manager immediately stepped forward to welcome him. "May I ask for your name, sir?" He asked politely.
"Why do you need it?" The young man questioned him back.
"I'm sorry, sir. I have an important customer who is waiting for his guests, so I was wondering if you are one of them."
The young man looked unimpressed. "What's the name of the guests whom you are looking for?" He asked.
The Manager bowed his head regretfully. "I can't divulge that, sir. My most sincere apologies. I'm sorry to have disturbed your evening. Please, do come in. My maître d' will seat you in a moment."
The young man smiled at him. "There's no need for that. My name's Odagiri. Odagiri Ryu."
The Manager looked at him in surprise. So the man was testing him earlier? If that was the case, he better treaded carefully around the Wakagashira and his guests alike. They did not seem to be the kind of people to be trifled with. "Odagiri-sama, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am the manager of this place, Fujisawa Saka. Please, follow me."
He led the young man into the private room where the Wakagashira and his companion were waiting. The Wakagashira smiled when the door opened, but made no move to get up from his seat; most probably because there was something heavy – or rather, someone – on his lap. The Manager fought to keep himself from staring. "Kuroda-sama, Odagiri-sama is here." He said evenly.
"Thanks, Manager Fujisawa." The Wakagashira said shortly. He turned his attention on the young man beside the Manager. "Ryu, how have you been?"
The Manager did not stay to hear the rest of the conversation. He excused himself quietly and closed the door behind him. He walked back to his spot by the door in a daze. He did not just saw the Wakagashira with a grown man on his lap. He did not. He must have mistaken. His eyes weren't as good as they used to be, after all. He –
His musing was interrupted by someone stopping in front of him. It was another young man, this time with messy hair and a cheeky smile. "Hey there. Are any of my friends here yet?"
The Manager looked at him thoughtfully. "What are the names of your friends?" He asked, trying Odagiri-sama's trick on the newcomer.
To his disappointment, this young man did not fall for it either. "My friends are not people who are identified by names. In that case, I'll just sit somewhere and wait, alright?"
The Manager held out a hand to stop him. He was pretty sure this was the last guest that the Wakagashira was waiting for, but he still had to double-check. "Just one moment, sir. Can you leave me your name, so that I know how to address you?"
The man grinned at him. "Yabuki, at your service."
"Pleased to meet you, Yabuki-sama. My name is Fujisawa Saka, the manager of this place. I believe your companions are all waiting for you. Please, come with me."
This time, the Manager waited a few seconds after knocking before opening the door. His eyes darted to the Wakagashira and was relieved to find that the man was sitting quite normally in a chair this time. The Manager cleared his throat. "Yabuki-sama is here, sir."
"Indeed." The Wakagashira said lazily. He didn't bother to look at this newcomer, however. "Sit, Hayato." He gestured at the table.
"May dinner be served now, sir?" The Manager asked.
The Wakagashira looked at his companions for confirmation and nodded. "Yeah. And beers all around please."
Dinner service proceeded without a hitch; although the Manager was teetering on the edge of his seat the whole time. He kept on harassing the kitchen staff to make sure that they were delivering their best to the VIPs upstairs, to the point that his head chef had to yell at him for 'being more of a nuisance than an assistance'.
One of the waitresses came down the stairs. The Manager accosted her immediately. "How's everything?" He prompted.
The waitress shrugged. "They're eating. The conversation stops whenever I go in, but it seems like they're quite agreeable to everything so far."
The Manager nodded in relief. "Good. Let me know if there are any problems."
The intercom cackled to life, almost scaring the Manager out of his skin. "Excuse me?" A disembodied voice sounded.
He rushed over to the intercom hastily. "Yes, sir. How may I help you?"
"Oh, Manager." The Manager recognised the speaker as the Wakagashira himself. "Bring us some whiskey or something, will you? Rum or brandy will work as well, whatever you have on hand."
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." The Manager dashed to his bartender. "What's the best bottle we have in the house?"
The bartender – a man in his thirties – cocked his head. "We have a bottle of aged scotch. It costs nearly 300 thousand yen, though."
The Manager waved the bartender's concern away. "It doesn't matter. Bring it to me now."
Holding the expensive bottle in his hand, the Manager knocked on the door. "Come in." The Wakagashira muttered.
"This is the bottle you've requested, Kuroda-sama."
The Wakagashira nodded. "Thank you. Clear the table please. And don't disturb us from now onwards." He said pointedly.
The Manager nodded meekly. "Yes, sir." He left once the waitresses had cleared the table, leaving the Wakagashira and his guests alone. He guessed that the Wakagashira did not want the staff or anyone else witnessing him intoxicated or not in full control of himself.
"Manager, do you have a raw chicken liver?" A cheeky voice came through the intercom. The Manager identified the voice as the last guest – Yabuki-sama.
"Umm, let me check with the kitchen, Yabuki-sama." A few minutes later, he came back to the intercom. "Hello?"
"Yeah, I'm still here."
"My apologies for the wait, Yabuki-sama. Yes, we do have a supply of chicken livers. How would you like it cooked?" The Manager asked.
"Oh, don't worry about that. We want it raw. Send us the largest one you have." There was a chorus of laughter before the intercom was cut off abruptly.
The Manager was slightly dumbfounded, but did as he was asked. He instructed the kitchen staff to search for the largest chicken liver and to send it via the dumb-waiter.
"Hello?" A quiet voice sounded this time. The Manager dashed to answer the intercom. "Yes, sir. How may I help you sir?"
"Do you have a live fish?" The voice asked. The Manager wasn't sure who it belonged to, but he guessed that it was most likely Odagiri-sama.
"No, sir." The Manager answered apologetically, thinking that they wanted fresh sashimi. "Would you like me to go buy one, sir?"
There was a slight pause. "I thought I saw a fish tank downstairs? Right next to the entrance?"
The Manager was bewildered. "Uh, yes, sir, there is. But those fishes are not edible…" He said uncertainly.
There was another round of gleeful laughter in the background. "Don't worry, Manager. We're not eating the fish. Just send one of them up, will you? In a bowl or water or something. We want it alive." The intercom was cut-off without any further explanation.
The Manager stared at the silent intercom in obvious confusion. One of his staff members came and shook him lightly. "Manager Fujisawa, sir?" She asked cautiously. It was quite abnormal for their slave-driving manager to look so out of sorts. She understood that he was nervous about the VIPs upstairs, but they had been nothing but accommodating so far! Granted, the raw chicken liver bit was a little weird, but she figured that maybe they just wanted to see how a chicken liver looked like or something.
The Manager was jerked out of his reverie. "Huh? What?" He asked blankly.
"Why are you staring into space, sir? What did the guest ask for?" She asked gently.
The Manager looked like he just swallowed something the wrong way. "Uhh… He wants a live fish. From the fish tank."
"Like sashimi?" The staff asked uncomprehendingly. "Those can't be eaten, though."
"No, they want the fish to be send up alive." The Manager said weakly.
The staff bit her lip. "Well, I guess we better do as they say then." She took a deep breath. "I'll go search for the fish net."
About half an hour later, soft footsteps were heard descending the stairs. The Manager rushed to the bottom of the stairs immediately to greet whoever it was.
It was the man who had come in with the Wakagashira and did – not – sit on the Wakagashira's lap.
The Manager looked at him uncertainly. He didn't know this man's name. The man had not talked to him since he came in.
The man waved him away. "I don't need anything from you." He said in a surprisingly strong voice; for a man who was – not – sitting on the Wakagashira's lap.
The Manager nodded in understanding and took a step back. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as the man approached an attractive young woman and started talking to her.
The Manager was sighed in relief. He had definitely seen wrongly just now then. This man was picking up chicks! There was no way he would be sitting on another man's lap.
The next moment, however, he was taken aback when the young woman took a bright pink lipstick out of her purse and proceeded to apply it on the man generously.
The man strode back upstairs wearing the bright pink lipstick, not looking the least abashed at the additional splash of colour on his face.
The Manager sunk into a chair in disbelief.
Kuroda-sama was back on the intercom. "Manager." His authoritative voice floated through.
"Yes, Kuroda-sama." The Manager was on his feet in an instant.
"Send us a live crab, please." The communication ended.
The Manager walked to the kitchen slowly. By now, the rest of the staff was beginning to get use to the strange demands coming from the room upstairs. "What do they want now, Manager Fujisawa?" The head chef asked patiently.
"A live crab."
"Alright." The head chef did not bother to question the request, simply acting on it. "See to it, Tanaka-kun." He instructed one of the younger kitchen hands. "Make sure you tie up its pincers and put it in a box before sending it up."
"Send us some milk and water, along with a few glasses, please. And dispose of the crab's remains." Unlike the fish which had come back alive and well; the crab came back dead – rather brutally, too – from the looks of it.
The Manager forced himself not to speculate on whatever activities that were being partaken upstairs. Considering that it was the Wakagashira of the Oedo clan that was upstairs, he supposed it was a blessing that it was just a crab carcass rather than human body parts.
"Whipped cream and chocolate sauce please, Manager." A voice – most likely the Wakagashira's companion – came through.
"Yes, sir." Whipped cream and chocolate was a lot more acceptable, the Manager thought privately. At least those were edible!
Halfway through the night, nevertheless, he changed his mind. He did NOT just hear a moan from upstairs!
He marched up to his maître d'. "Close the place as soon as you can." He ordered.
The maître d' nodded. It was out of the ordinary for the bar to be closed so early, but he knew that today was no ordinary day anyway. "I'll hold off any incoming customers. The ones already inside will probably be done in another hour or so."
"Make that 30 minutes. Offer them our apologies and write-off their bills if you need to." The Manager said curtly.
The maître d' raised an eyebrow. The situation must be dire for Manager Fujisawa to be so desperate. It was barely 9.30 pm! They usually remained open until 5 am, and the staff usually only left around 7am.
45 minutes later, the bar had been cleared of customers and most of the staff had been sent home (with full pay and being sworn to secrecy) – save for the Manager himself and the head chef – just in case the men upstairs decided that they wanted a bite later in the night.
The Manager and the head chef sat downstairs with a cup of tea each. The head chef kicked his legs onto the table and started to snooze. The Manager, however, was not feeling the least bit sleepy. His poor nerves were overwrought; not just because of the Wakagashira's presence, but also from the questionable noises that were coming through from upstairs. He made a mental note to set aside next month's budget to sound-proof the private room.
The head chef opened an eye and chuckled. "We can't really hear what's going on; but according to logic all four of them must be involved. Unless we have a couple of voyeurs…" He trailed off thoughtfully.
The Manager blanched. It was easy for the head chef to speculate; he had not met all those guests and spoke to them! The Manager, on the other hand, knew exactly how each of them looked like and how their voices sounded like. It was unthinkable to imagine them doing… that.
"Chill out, will you?" The head chef nudged the Manager. "I never knew you were homophobic."
The Manager exhaled. "I'm not…"
The head chef raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying you would feel as uncomfortable as you are now if the Wakagashira's guests were two young female prostitutes instead?"
The Manager shook his head. "I would be quite comfortable – as you put it – if the guests were prostitutes; whether male or female. The problem is that they are all friends!"
The head chef laughed. "Ah, you can't blame them. They're young and adventurous, eh? Don't tell me you haven't crossed any decent borders with any of your friends when you were younger." He winked.
The Manager remained unconvinced. Sure, he had kissed his female best friend once when he was eighteen, and slept with another while he was drunk; but a foursome in a bar was a totally different league altogether.
"I guess it really takes someone extraordinary to be the Wakagashira of the Oedo clan, then." He conceded.
The head chef chuckled as he took out a cigarette. "Just be thankful that they didn't ask you for condoms or lubricant."
The Manager shuddered. Yes, for that he was very thankful indeed.
It was nearly midnight when the intercom came to life again. "Ano…" A tired voice started hesitantly.
"Yes, sir?" The Manager replied without missing a beat.
"Don't disturb us till tomorrow morning, will you? You guys can lock up and go home first. Just leave us the keys or something."
The Manager held back a whimper. There was no denying what was going on upstairs now. "Yes, sir."
The Manager sent the head chef back, but remained in the bar by himself. He was not directly involved with the Oedo clan, but he knew that there had been some trouble lately. He felt that it was his duty to watch out for the Wakagashira. He did not want the Wakagashira to be attacked when his defence was down, after all.
The phone rang at the break of dawn. The Manager rubbed his eyes sleepily as he answered the phone. "We are closed until 5pm—"
The person on the other end did not allow him to finish speaking. "Manager, is the Wakagashira there?"
The Manager was awake instantly. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said cautiously.
"Kuroda Ren. Or Kazama Ren. Whatever. Is he there?" The voice asked impatiently.
"I don't know any person by that name. Why are you looking for him here?" The Manager answered.
"Because that idiot is not picking up his phone." The caller muttered in irritation. The Manager had a very good idea why that was the case, but smartly kept his mouth shut. The voice continued. "And I can tell that you're lying, Manager… err… Fuji… sawa, is it? Please, I need to speak to Ren urgently."
The Manager gulped. He had thought that his lie was pretty convincing. How did this man know that he was lying? And how did he know his name? "I really don't know who you are talking about, sir." He replied obtusely.
"Oh for god's sake. It's Kuroda Shin here, alright? The Kumichou of the Oedo clan. Work with me, Manager. Or you're going to lose a lot more than your job." The voice growled threateningly.
The Manager's eyes widened. It was the Kumichou himself! "I'm so sorry, Kumichou Kuroda-sama. Yes, the Wakagashira is here." He apologised profusely. "However, he has given strict instructions not to disturb him…"
The Kumichou was unrelenting. "This is an emergency. I'm on my way there now. Get him to call me back ASAP."
The Manager tiptoed upstairs after the call ended. He really didn't want to disobey the Wakagashira, but he couldn't disobey the Kumichou either. He inched the door open with a finger – and hastily fled downstairs. There was no way he could wake the Wakagashira up. NO WAY.
He tried the intercom. "Hello? Kuroda-sama? Are you awake?" He repeated a few times, but it was futile. It seemed like the Wakagashira was dead to the world. Or perhaps the two naked men next to him were preventing the sound from reaching his ears… The Manager bit back a grimace at the reminder of the scarring scene he had witnessed. All four men were stark naked and were snuggled next to each other. Oh god, why did he open that door?
He paced around the bar nervously. What should he do? The Kumichou would be here any minute, and would most probably be absolutely pissed at him. He just hoped that his life would be spared.
He tried the intercom again, but still no answer was forthcoming.
A black car with tinted windows pulled up right in front of the bar. The Manager swallowed a huge lump in his throat. This was it. His demise.
The Kumichou strode into the bar, accompanied by his driver and henchman. "Where's Ren?" He asked, looking around the empty bar.
The Manager trembled in fear. "He's… upstairs… Kumichou… Kuroda… sama…" He stuttered. "I… I can't…"
The Kumichou arched his eyebrows in displeasure. "I thought I told you that this is urgent? Nevermind, I'll go then."
The henchman moved to follow the Kumichou, but the Manager spoke up. "I… think… it'll be better… if Kumichou Kuroda-sama… went alone…" He said sheepishly.
The Kumichou broke into a chuckle. "Oh, I see. Don't worry, Manager; I understand your predicament now. And I don't blame you one bit." He turned to his henchman. "Kato, wait in the car."
Half an hour later, the Kumichou came down the stairs, followed by a – thankfully – fully-dressed Wakagashira and his companion.
"Clean up the place, and I do not want the staff breathing a single word about anything that happened last night." The Wakagashira said.
The Manager bowed respectfully. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." He dared not look the Wakagashira in the eye. Not after what he just heard last night and saw this morning. He wondered who he should send to do the cleaning. His stomach sank when he realised that it was probably going to be him.
Shortly after the Kumichou and Wakagashira and the unnamed man left in the car, the other two men came sauntering downstairs. The Manager could see that their demeanour was slightly strained – tense even.
"Alright, see you then." Yabuki-sama said when they reached the door.
"Uh. Yeah. Sure." Odagiri-sama replied slowly. He looked up and saw the Manager watching them. "Thanks for everything, Manager Fujisawa. Sorry for all the trouble you went through." He said softly. The Manager could tell from his manners that he had been brought up in a strict family.
The Manager nodded at him and tried to crack a tiny smile. "No problem, Odagiri-sama. Please, come again." He replied politely.
As soon as the door closed behind them, the Manager slumped onto the bar table and cradled his head in despair.