Ritsu Kasanoda laid his weary body on the soft grassy lawn. His jacket bundled under his head that acted as a pillow. He was surrounded with spring flowers. He could smell the fresh flora and fauna. He felt at ease, his emotions calmed and his temperament cooled. He was a simple man having simple needs. The simple life he wanted he couldn't have. He was stuck living an extraordinary life which he didn't want. So he appreciated the limited private time he had like now.
His business life and private life were separate elements in his life. Thus it was inevitable that he had two personas. But both lives had the same thing in common. In the world of his kind of business he was known as the indomitable, intimidating and invisible fearsome legend, White Byakko. He was a man known for his ferocity in strength, character, spirit and mentality. He was upright never rigid in all of his business dealings. His men followed him without hesitation or fear.
They respected him because he was a man who took care of his own problems, never bothered anyone and looked after his men's welfare. Most bosses in the outfit didn't do that. If one or a few of them were shot dead, the only thing they'd do was to send a wreath. Not Kasanoda, he would see to the welfare of the decease's family. Even though, he was hated by a few families whose fathers, husbands or sons were shot dead, he took it upon himself to be there for the family.
Although the bereaved families spat, threw things or the money he gave them as compensation and said harsh words to him, he took their brunt in his stride. He of all people knew what it meant to be free. At least those who perished, they were free from this nightmare. He, on the other hand was stuck in this nightmare until one day he too would perish. It wasn't easy to get out of the outfit. If a person insisted of opting out, the result would be fatal. Their outfit still followed the ancient ways.
The only way to be free was to die either by your own hands or asking a comrade in the outfit to do it for you. Most outfits today didn't follow the old way. If a person wanted out of an outfit, the person would only need to cut his right pinky. This was a mark of cutting ties with the underworld and that the person had taken the oath of secrecy. He thought those were not a way out but a way to cause more problems for the underground society.
Oaths could be broken once their families' lives were threatened by the law and the lawless. Actually, it really made no frigging difference whether a person was in or out. The person could still die by not one means. The new way killed the spirit of brotherhood. The new way was a cowardly way of covering the pride of the underworld. The new way had become the bane of the outfits' existence. The new way made the outfits looked weak and easily trampled by halfwits who claimed themselves as leaders.
The outfits of today were mere jokes because these halfwits didn't follow the one aspect that was significant to their livelihood and survival. The one element that distinguished them with other outfits was that 'you were the outfit and the outfit was you'. This wasn't a short term employment or that it was trendy having your skin tattooed with which Yakuza section you were with. Being a yakuza wasn't a stint but it was a long term employment that demanded apt attention and unwavering loyalty.
The secret society was formed to avenge the under privileged and oppressed since the Edo period. But because they were extreme in the way they did things, they were dubbed as criminals. The only people who still followed or applied this tagline were Roichi Murakami (Black Seiryu), Hiro Okada (Amber Suzaku), the chieftain (the Green Dragon Emperor), Takake Watanabe (Brown Genbu) and himself. Why they followed this tagline? Simple reason because it was effective.
Just the other day he happened to come by a net café and decided to check out his emails. He sat at one of the tables surfing the net at a dimmed corner of a net café enjoying a glass of beer when a posse of thugs from a neighbouring gang appeared before him. Actually he was in the Hundred Pacer Snakes' turf, but he wasn't looking for a fight. Perhaps it was his red hair, rough features and tough demeanor that usually were a magnet for trouble even though he didn't go looking for it.
He just wanted to have some private time alone somewhere, anywhere to think things over. One of them switched off his PC. Their presence made the other customers restless. The leader of the gang stared at him and motioned two of his boys to create a mess for him. One of the two took the beer glass and tilted the glass over his head.
"You look like you want to fight us." The one who tilted the beer glass sneered at him. His gang laughed at his provocation.
Ritsu said nothing. The liquid streamed down wetting his hair, face and soaking the upper part of his clothes. He was angry at their conduct of causing unwarranted fear to the customers. He wiped his face of the droplets with a hanky. He stood up, for the sake of the customers, walked out of the café. They followed him.
"Hey," the leader shouted at him, "Do you know who we are?"
"Should I?" Ritsu replied walking into a dark, lonely alley away from prying eyes.
"Are you looking for trouble?" someone shouted at him.
Ritsu stopped but didn't turn around, "No, trouble usually finds me." He braced himself for an assault.
A whoosh of something trying to hit him from behind was easily deflected. He grabbed the person's wrist and gave it a hard twist breaking the person's wrist. The fellow cried of pain and he got his face bashed in from Ritsu's jaw breaking fist. The fellow was thrown back ten paces and hit three of his comrades with his flying body. The fellow moaned on top of his fallen comrades. He was incapacitated and was unable to move. His three comrades were able to so they pushed him aside.
"You'll die!" the leader shouted at him, "Kill the bloody bastard, fellas!" The leader commanded his gang members.
Ritsu was surrounded by homicidal morons. He sighed, "I don't think that's a good idea."
He clapped his hands on a knife and gave a back kick to someone attacking him from behind that sent the fellow flying and hit the dirty wall. They heard him groan of pain as he crumpled to the ground with two front teeth broken and had a bloody mouth. The one in front of him tried to pry the knife from his palms but to no avail. He found himself being the subject of the knife's pointy end. Ritsu didn't want to kill the fellow but he needed to make sure that he didn't end up with a bullet or knife in his back or being bludgeoned to death.
He stabbed the side of the fellow's groin. It was enough to immobilise him from acting further. He stabbed three guys on their stomachs. The wounds weren't that fatal but if not treated they would be suffering from high fever. He gave several hard punches on two other fellows, breaking their ribs and injuring their spleen. The leader became panicky seeing all his men were down and out. He took out his gun and aimed at Ritsu.
Ritsu saw that the leader was trembling and quick as lightning he threw the knife at the offender. The knife was thrown in such a way that the impact sliced off his hand. Blood spurted from the gaping wound. As the amputated anatomy fell on the ground and the finger on the trigger pulled it back a shot rang out from the gun and hit the leg of another member. That member screamed of pain and fell on his bum with his hands on his injured leg. The leader screamed of pain and horror at losing a hand.
"You aren't cut out to be yakuza." Ritsu's eyes narrowed in disgust, "You dishonour the name of the Hundred Pacer Snakes."
The gang leader gawked at him. "W-who are y-you? He rasped in pain.
"A loner advising you to look for a safe job," Ritsu said as he walked away from the injured gang. "You won't survive in this one."
The wounded members of Hundred Pacer Snakes got a good look at the man who took of his sodden white T-shirt. He threw the sticky, grimy and bloody t-shirt to one corner filled with smelly and decomposing garbage infested by pests. His bare back bore a fearsome tattoo of a White Byakko with red eyes. Then the red haired man quickly wore his black jacket on but his left it unbuttoned as he walked into the shadows like a larger than life specter. The leader of the gang gasped in recognition, they'd just encountered one of the four lords of the oldest crime organisation in the country.
Ritsu sighed as he put the back of his hand on his forehead. Being yakuza was a lonely occupation. His comrades were friends but not everyone could be trusted. Even the ones he trusted he was wary of them. Not that he showed it. He was careful not to show it. He was good to them all because the closer you were to them the more you learnt from their body language. Then you'd know who was loyal and who wasn't. Yes, he attributed this ability to Takashi Morinozuka. He'd learnt a lot from Mori-senpai by observing the upper-classman during his learning tenure at Ouran.
It was lonely when you couldn't trust anyone. He felt lonelier when he was in his private persona. His private life was just as lonely as his business life. He felt naked and vulnerable. The women he had didn't fill his lonely nights. If at all it made him sadder. They would come and go. He wouldn't know who they were, how they looked like or their names. The words 'honey', 'baby', 'sweetcakes' were just mere words that had no meaning for him. The regulars wanted him to say, 'I love you,' but he couldn't utter those precious, sacred three words to them because these women meant nothing to him.
A soft rustling of grass and a shadow loomed over him alerting his entire being into a tensed predator waiting to pounce on whatever or whoever it was. But, he felt the something or someone sitting on the grassy earth beside him. He smelled the discreet sensual scent of Issey Miyake's Le Feu D'Issey Light and turned his head at the person with one eye opened. He smiled at the person at his side. It was his bosom buddy, Haruhi Fujioka.
"You got my email," he said, both eyes focused on her soft features.
She glanced sideways at him, "Only you would use LordHaru-at-mailbox-dot-com," She smiled at him. "So when you're sad, you'd crawl your sorry ass into this place."
If it was some other bloke, that person would be tongueless. But it was his bosom buddy so he kept quiet. This place was the garden he had created by himself in the school. It was approved by the chairman because it was done under the school's gardening club. In fact this garden was so beautiful that it had won first place in the National Garden Competition six years ago. He would from time to time 'visit' this garden he built with his own hands. He found solace here and made this as his temporary sanctuary. He was tensed when she placed her palm on his chest.
"Don't be sad," She whispered softly. "It isn't good for your heart."
He breathed deeply and exhaled through his mouth. His hand covered hers that was still on his chest. "Heart?" He was skeptical of that word.
"A person who had built this garden for others to enjoy has a wholesome heart." She gestured at the garden. Then she smiled in remembrance, "I remember a similar meeting like this with you…"
"I remember it too," He stroked her soft skin of her hand with his thumb and he sighed, "I don't have that kind of heart…"
"Shhh," She place the pad of her other forefinger on his lips. "A sad heart is a lonely heart. But I love that heart and that's why I don't want you to be sad." She looked at him with concern and warmth in her chocolaty gaze. "Find someone and love that person. It will dispel that loneliness."
His hand on hers stilled. His heart stilled as well. He shifted his eyes on her face. How could he tell her that the person was right in front of him? "I do have one. But that person…" He glanced away from her, embarrassed, "wouldn't be interested in a person like me."
"Tell that person," She held his face with both palms, "You wouldn't know the answer if you didn't try." She smiled slowly, "you might be surprised with the answer." Then she patted his shoulders and stood up. She looked down at him, "Do what your heart tells you, not your head." She walked away from him towards the cobbled path to the next building in the immense alta mater.
He really didn't know what to think about what she'd told him to do. It was outlandish and something that was hard for him to do. It wasn't an easy thing to confess to the person he loved. He was afraid and probably wouldn't be able to take the rejection if she declined his love for her. It was immature of him to think that way and she was right as usual. He wouldn't know if he didn't try. She truly knew him like no other. He needed her level-headedness and kindness. It was wrong to say he didn't trust anyone. He did but to a minimum. He trusted Tetsuya, Itou and Yuzu. But he trusted her more.
Although, he knew what the answer would be like and with that in mind had prepared him for that eventuality. He wouldn't be sad when that eventuality came upon him. But his loneliness would still linger. Meanwhile, Haruhi who was walking on the cobbled pathway glanced sideways at the red haired man who was on his back with his arms covering his forehead and eyes. She smiled sadly seeing the lonely figure of her bosom buddy who wanted to lead a normal life but couldn't. How many times had she seen him battered and bloodied by the fights he didn't intend to be a part of?
How many times had she seen his unshed tears when one of his men died before his eyes and he couldn't do anything to help or stop death? There were countless of times when he looked like he wanted to die. She just hoped he wasn't inclined to take his own life just because he was tired of it. How many times had he held on to her hands as if they were the last ones he'd hold on to like his life depended on it? That was why whenever he left a private message in her LordHaru email, she would show up at the time and place of meeting.
No matter what the consequences were. Although she was no longer in the Justice and Legal Department, and he knew of it, he was always considerate of her position in the legal arena and chose avenues that would implicate nothing to her career as Senior Corporate PR and Legal Advisor to Ootori Medical Research Centre. However, the guys didn't like the fact that she was pally with Bossanova-kun but for his sake, she would be by his side through the good and especially for the bad times.
She prayed that he would confess his love for that special someone he said he had so that person could heal his heart. Who was that person? She was curious but then she shook her head. She didn't have to know. It was his private matter. If he wanted her to know, he would've told her. Still she couldn't stand seeing her bosom buddy in such a state of loss. Please God, let him find the courage to tell the person he loved that he loved that person. And please let that person love him like she did.
THE END
A/N: Please don't give me reviews saying that she didn't confess her love for him first. It's there somewhere along the lines of this fic. It had been quite some time since I wrote on this pair. I just had to write snippets of things yet to come. Hopefully, your thirst will be appeased with this fic. I'm not going to do a series on this pair. Not yet, that is. I hope you've enjoyed reading it, as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Thank you.