A/N: Ninkyodo means 'Road or Path to Chivalry.'
Ritsu Kasanoda stared hard at the kashira of the Kurohana group. The kashira had wanted the kumi-cho of the Kasanoda-gumi to undergo a special training since he was lacking in people skills which was essential in their line of business. Although, brutal force and violence were part and parcel of the yakuza way of getting the job done but it showed that they were nothing more than street punks. A more subtle way of enforcing their influence or will was needed.
Through aiding others in need, the kashira believed that it would help Ritsu to better understand the human psyche and behaviour. Therefore, it would help him to understand himself through the eyes of others. Ritsu had a good heart and a sharp mind but he was rough, tough and gruff which made people squirm in fear which was good and bad at the same time. He was also hot tempered and was quick to bruise, maim or kill the other party should they make one suspicious or threatening move.
The kashira thought Ritsu was a balanced individual but his quick temper which would normally lead to devastation marred his otherwise pristine record. With that understanding gained he would be able to be an excellent kanbu. The current kanbu was Roichi Murakami. Roichi was the kashira's son. But Roichi had brain tumor which was inoperable since the tumor was in a place which was impossible for surgery. The incurable disease that was in its final stage and Roichi was waiting for Death to claim him.
"Why as a volunteer in a healthcare centre?" Ritsu furrowed his eyebrows. The news didn't bode well to him. It spelled trouble for him… and the old folks knowing his penchant for being impatient.
"Ritsu," The kashira blinked at him, "Your father entrusted you to me when he died. He told me to see to your education."
"Kashira, I did graduate from college." Ritsu informed him. He had wanted to go to work straight after Ouran. He just didn't stress the fact that it was the kashira's orders that he attend college.
"Yes, you did well for a person who didn't study with a CGPA of 2.97." The kashira smiled at Ritsu. "But, it's for the future."
Ritsu's eyes narrowed slightly. Of course he didn't study much. He couldn't because he hadn't the time, and energy to put the effort in his studies. He was either stopping a fight with rival clans or deviate sects or the one bashing them up because the rivals went overboard by terrorizing civilians or broke one of the yakuza rules such as crashing in and cashing in on other faction's turfs. The young ones didn't adhere to the yakuza code of conduct.
He was a kumi-cho whose job was to oversee that their acts stayed organised and underground. Yakuzas were factions of organisations involved in crime and punishment the way they saw fit. They were known to be good and bad at the same time. Their roles in society were to put fear and to be feared by being illegal forces to be reckoned with. But their reason was simple. When the law failed to protect the weak, oppressed and underprivileged, they would step in.
They would be the ones to execute retribution to those who had done a greater wrong to these unfortunate people. After all, they had received or extracted protection money from them. It was their duty to oversee to the well-being of establishments or people under their protection. It wasn't easy for him to study and to work in that line of business.
So he did what he had always done back in high school. He absorbed what his lecturers taught into his grey cells. He was thankful for having good memory. It had served him well both in his studies and in that line of business he was in. He was informed by the kashira that there would be an observer who was outside the organisation. He would not know whether the observer was a man or woman.
"What do you mean?" Ritsu frowned slightly. His attention was hundred percent. He was worried when the kashira said 'the future' than being observed by a mystery person.
"You'll know once it presents itself to you."
Ritsu flailed his hands in dread. "What am I supposed to find out?"
"You have one to stay afloat, but," The kashira smiled at Ritsu, "how long can you stay afloat?" Then he patted Ritsu's shoulder, "you need the other to swim to the shore."
Riddles… how he hated them. "But kashira…"
The kashira put a finger on his lips and smiled that mind-boggling enigmatic smile of his at Ritsu. Damn it! The kashira just loved riddles. Correction, Ritsu frowned slightly, the old geezer loved giving them to him. He looked at the kashira in puzzlement as the old man walked out of the room.
If he was to be a volunteer he must conceal what must be concealed. Otherwise all hell would break loose and it would defeat his purpose to be there. He rubbed his nape in frustration. He didn't like it one bit. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to meet that of his supervisor.
And so began his quest…
A stern matron looking at him up and down making him wonder whether she was the observer the kashira had engaged to monitor his performance and progress. "Koya-kun, you've been assigned to a new patient. Please come with me to meet him and his family."
Here and now he was known as Riku Koyashita. A chocolate haired with streaks of green freeter (freelance part timer) sporting an Elton John spectacles who often wore black undershirt and geeky murky coloured turtleneck pullover.
He was assigned to well to do elderly patients whose antics drove him up the wall most of the time. If he hadn't complete control of himself he would have had whacked them to oblivion. The odd thing was the elderly would call on him for anything to everything, while recalling one incident.
The cleaner blinked as she stared at him, "Aren't you hot wearing that turtleneck pullover? It's spring, you know."
"No, I'm actually cold," He stared back at her. He quickly left before she continued talking to enter the leisure lounge.
"Riku-chan, I've a crick on my nape. Could you rub it away?" An old enka singer suffering from acute rheumatism pointed the back of her neck with a trembling finger.
"Chie-san," He didn't sidestep away when the old enka singer's hand which had rested on his bum, "I won't be able to do as you've requested if your hand is on my butt."
"You've nice buns. My eyes are not blurry yet. You must work out often to get those tight tushies." She cackled, "You've got good physique and you ain't that bad lookin' either, just don't scowl too much." She hugged his waist as he rubbed the back of her nape, "Your hand though calloused could work magic."
Ritsu didn't answer her. It was natural that his hands were rough. He wasn't known to stay in office. He was always out on the field. Of course, he worked out. Jump kicking, spin kicking and bashing people up were part of his daily exercises. He closed his eyes as she patted his bum affectionately. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly through his mouth, he politely removed the old enka singer's hand that was groping his bottom. The old enka singer gave a satisfied sigh.
"You're a good boy," she said.
A cleaner who was sweeping giggled. Ritsu scowled at her. It made her giggle more at his discomfort.
"Yes, yes," Gira-san, an old okama agreed while looking at him up and down, "and bad boy too. You've the looks for it. You could be a number one host in the Roppongi Club."
Ritsu closed his eyes again. He nearly raised his two hands to wrangle Gira's weathered, wrinkly neck. But Gira-san was close. He was a bad boy. Not for being a host club member, but a member of one of the two biggest crime organisations in the country.
Despite it all, Gira-san had reminded him of Ouran and his bosom buddy. No, he shook his head to clear his mind off of his beloved bosom buddy. As for looks, he knew he was far from good looking. He was plain looking and his habit of glowering and snarling made him look more of a beast than an Adonis.
"This isn't the time for you to daydream," The stern matron widened her eyes at him. Then she smiled at him. "For some mysterious reason the elderly like you. Why is that?"
"I truly haven't a clue, matron." He looked at her with impassive eyes.
According to the matron, that indicated that the elderly trusted him. He blinked and sighed not in relieve but apprehension. Trust was one thing that people in his world didn't give or accept. It was a dangerous word. It was a word that could get you killed in a blink of an eye. Instead of trust, doubt was a much needed element. Yet wariness could cause weariness. Even though he was in disguise it didn't mean he was spared from exposure. That was where the weariness seeped in.
He was about to follow the matron when another volunteer stopped next to him. Kame Uehara disliked the elderly patients for being too clingy. "I can't stand them for being too clingy. They refused to wear adult diapers and they pee and shit all over the place. No wonder they were abandoned by their families."
"Do you think they like being saddled with us and to depend on us for every single thing? They're embarrassed to be such a bother to others." He frowned, "But unfortunately they can't fight old age, physical and mental weaknesses." Ritsu's lips thinned in irritation. "Their families have other priorities for them to oversee to. They're unable to see their parents' well-being because of these priorities. When they can they would visit their parents once a month or would talk to them frequently over the phone."
"These are the nice ones. There are other elders," His upper lip curled in disgust, "who're not so fortunate because their families are conceited, self-centered idiots like you. Why did you volunteer when you lack the endurance to endure hardships? Is it because you think it'd look good in your resume? People will know what kind of person you are once they start to work with you!" His eyes narrowed in contempt, "If you can't take it then leave. Don't whine about it!"
He glared at Uehara, "Remember that you too would one day become old and grey. Have you forgotten an old adage, 'a mother can look after ten children but none of the ten children can look after one mother?' So think carefully before you speak carelessly." Then he brushed pass Uehara who gaped and gawked at him.
The cleaner's broom left her hands. It fell to the ground. She too was shocked at Ritsu's outburst.
Ritsu frowned as he entered the new patient's room. The matron glared at him for being five minutes late. He bowed apologetically to those present. When he lifted his head his vision was assailed with a shocking sight. In front of him was the kashira of Daimongi group. This group was the other big crime organisation that was always on a warpath with his group.
He looked at the frail old man sitting in a wheelchair. The last time he saw the old man he was fit as a raging bull. Prior to him coming here for this short stint, he had a few stand-offs and near misses with the old man's group. Their tiffs always ended in neutral grounds yet each group beheld hostile resentment against the other.
The Daimongi group was having some problems of their own from what intel he had gathered during his lone rendezvous out of the field. They were straying from the original code. It was legal to have adult clubs, gambling dens (for smaller factions) or casinos (for big guns like Daimongi Group), restaurants, three to four star hotels, motels, legalised heterosexual brothels for the straight or transgendered brothels for the horny.
But Daimongi group was heading for illegal activities such as drugs distribution and aiming for ill prosperity at the expense of their legal workforce (for ferrying the concealed drugs in pizzas being boxed and delivered to the buyer) and endangering civilians lives (those consuming the drugs or those smacked in between a gang war).
Looking at the kashira of Daimongi group, Ritsu noted at how cruel fate was to those who went out of their bearings. Not that he pitied the kashira for he was a man of ill repute and a merciless cut throat. Yet he felt the old man had gotten to be that merciless to subsist in their world. Only the strongest ruled and the fittest survived. Still he was an elderly man now raked with ill health.
He let his eyes stray further. The old man had a bypass operation two years ago. Recently, the old man had a massive stroke which had the lower part of his body paralysed which had also impaired his speech patterns. The current kanbu for the Daimongi group was Sho Oguri. He was the one who brought and wheeled the kashira in.
"This is Matron Niigata and," The manager of the healthcare centre for the elderly introducing the matron and Ritsu, "Volunteer Koyashita." The manager puffed his chest proudly as he introduced the kashira to them, "This is Kanou Domoto, the chairman of Daimongi Land and Properties. Koya-kun will be in-charge of Domoto-san and supervised by Matron Niigata."
The matron bowed slightly. Ritsu did the same. Domoto stared at him with piercing dark eyes.
"Have we met?" Domoto asked.
"No," Ritsu didn't look away from the old man's gaze. He didn't want the old man to be suspicious of him. He smiled at the old man, "I've a very common face, sir."
The old man narrowed his eyes, "Hmph," Then he glanced at the kanbu, "It's time for you to see to the business."
Oguri just nodded.
"Come see me here with the family," The old man told Oguri, "every weekend."
Although, it was a statement there was a hint of sadness to be left there. Ritsu glanced at both of them under slits of his eyes. Then he shifted his curious eyes at the kanbu. Oguri may appear to be dependable but to Ritsu, he was a man with a hidden agenda and a chip on his shoulder, capable of orchestrating anything to everything.
"Don't worry big boss," Oguri put an assuring hand on Domoto's shoulder. He looked at the manager, "Please take care of Domoto-sama." He bowed at them. Then looking up at Ritsu, he said, "Treat him well."
It was a subtle warning. Ritsu was bristling with annoyance inside. "Certainly," He smiled slightly at Oguri. His eyes followed Oguri's movements until the man was out of sight. The matron and the manager followed Oguri. He remained with the old man. He felt eyes on him and he glanced at the line of gaze of the old man. "Would you like to take a look at the facilities in this centre?"
"Hmph," Domoto made a face of repugnance as he looked at the room and at the three roommates staring at him blankly. "I want to change rooms. Is there a single room for single occupant?"
In your dreams, old man, Ritsu cynically thought to himself. "Sir, this is a public healthcare centre. So there's no single room for a person."
"This is unacceptable," Domoto declared appallingly. "I won't…"
But Ritsu had cut him off from talking further, "Were you sent here against your will?" He stared at the old man enquiringly, "Or did you choose to come here willingly?"
The old man jerked a little in his wheelchair and he beat Ritsu's hand from the wheelchair handle. "Go away, you impudent pup."
"Not until I get you tucked in nicely," Ritsu staring at Domoto, "Or would you prefer to sleep in your wheelchair?" He titled his head to one side, "It'd surely be uncomfortable." The old man sat motionless, refusing to cooperate. Then he sighed, "But it's your choice." He turned around to leave the old man staring down on the floor looking slightly dejected. He glanced at Domoto yet saying nothing. He looked out of the window while leaning his back against the wall.
"Why are you still here?" Domoto scowled at Ritsu.
"You're tired," Ritsu said, "You need to rest."
The old man glanced at Ritsu thoughtfully, distrust in his eyes. "Aren't you working more hours than you need to? You don't get paid for doing this."
"I'm used to it."
"I can see that," the old man said gruffly. "But you don't get paid for volunteering."
"That's why it's called volunteering." Ritsu gave him a slight smile.
"Insolent pup," the old man chastised.
"Stubborn old dog," Ritsu hit back gently.
The old man cackled. "Alright, young man, do what you have to do."
A month later…
It was a month after the kashira of Daimongi group had settled in. The old man received flowers once a week for a month. But after one month of his stay there not once did his family come to visit him. They only sent flowers but there were no cards in accompaniment with words that uplifted the spirit. It was as if they were sending him away on a long and forgotten journey. It wasn't even a Viking's farewell to a fallen warrior destined for Valhalla.
"Throw them away," Domoto told Ritsu. "Bloody jerks sent me wreaths."
Ritsu knew what the old man was feeling. Hadn't he seen it in the faces of the elderly he was assigned before they passed on? Domoto was one of the unfortunate elderly folks who had been left to rot in the healthcare centre by unfeeling and ungrateful degenerates. Although the old man was a monster but he took care of his gumi as a doting yet stern father would. Yet in the end his fate was no better than a mangy dog's waiting to either be shot down in the streets or be put to sleep in places like SPCA. Ritsu complied. He took the black garbage bag and chucked the flowers into it.
He also knew something else that the old man mustn't know. It had something to do with the flowers the old man had received. It had made him suspicious. He took the garbage out and left it in the wheel barrow he used in the garden. Then he went into the room to find the kashira throwing his things about like a child throwing his tantrum because he was dissatisfied with his fate. The things he threw hit the other occupants in the room bodily.
"Do you know who I am?" Domoto shouted at his roommates. "Do you stinking mutts know?"
He even threw the plastic cup half full with water at the cleaner who was cleaning outside. The cleaner was doused with water when the plastic cup hit her upper arm. She jumped in shock and gaped at the wet spot. She looked up to search for the crazy fool who threw the cup so carelessly and wanted to give the person a piece of her mind.
Domoto glared at her, "What are you looking at, you rude girl."
"Well," the cleaner had both hands on her waist.
"Stupid fools, let me show you who I am!" He glared at her then at his roommates. His hands grabbed his white cotton shirt.
"You're too much, Domoto-san!" The cleaner threw the mop on the floor and walked angrily towards him. But stopped when she saw Ritsu's livid face, she gulped in apprehension as she stepped back a few paces as he zoomed pass her.
Before the old man took off his shirt which would show the telltale tattoo to his identity, he grabbed the handles on the wheelchair and wheeled the old man out of the room and out of the centre at top speed. The old man was yelling of bedlam but it fell onto deaf ears. Matron Niigata, the manager and other workers were gawking at the zooming figures of Domoto flailing his arms in protest and Ritsu's red face.
"About time he flipped," Uehara smirked.
"Stop! Riku-kun… I said stop," the manager yelled at Ritsu while running after him followed by the matron.
Ritsu ignored them as he pushed the wheelchair with the old man on it to the one place he felt at peace with the world. The garden situated two blocks away from the healthcare centre. He gradually slowed and stopped on the grassy patch of the garden. He tilted the wheelchair roughly which action made the old man loose balance and slipped out of the wheelchair. He fell on the grassy patch with a soft plop. He turned his head with eyes shooting daggers at Ritsu.
"How dare you treat me like this?" Domoto supported his upper body with both his hands splayed on the soft earth.
"How dare you behave in such a childish manner making me treat you like this?" Ritsu's hands were clenched in a tight fist at his sides which he immediately jammed them into his pants pockets.
Domoto saw the fists, smiled smugly, "Want to have a swing at me, do you?"
Ritsu glared at him, "Fate has beaten me to it. She has taken a swing at you, old man. It's fitting for a haughty person like you to endure for the rest of your life."
Domoto was taken aback. He narrowed his eyes at the verbal hit received. Out of frustration, he hit the soft earth with his hands. "I might as well die by my own hands than live like this." His voice cracked but he swallowed the uncomfortable lump into the pit of his stomach. "You don't get it…" He took out a short sword unsheathing it.
Ritsu's eyes glittered cautiously as he quickly pushed the short sword back into its lacquered sheath emblazoned with the Daimyongi kashira emblem. It would create some shock waves for there were prying eyes from four concerned yet curious persons. The old man shifted gloomy eyes at him. Ritsu's lips thinned in tension then he sighed.
"Domoto-san," Ritsu knelt beside him, "it's you not me. Look around you." Ritsu held Domoto's shoulders and helped the old man to sit properly on the ground. "Life still goes on. The flowers that you had me throw had little shrubs. I took those shrubs and planted them here."
Looking at the old man, Ritsu said, "Look at them. They're fighting to survive every day. So must you until your time runs out on you. Taking your own life is easy but that makes you a loser in life. The fact you didn't take your own life is proof that you still desire to live. Also, you're not alone. There're others like you yet they lead their lives the best that they're able to."
The old man slumped with his head hanging down while grabbing Ritsu's hand. Ritsu felt a few drops of warm tears on his hand. Then he heard some heart-wrenching sobs. He closed his eyes while patting the old man's back gently. The manager, the matron, the cleaner and Uehara gaped and gawked at the sight. Then the matron put her hand on her bosom, taking out a handkerchief to wipe her snot.
"I'll be damned," Uehara stared at the two figures on the patch of grass. "He shines during crisis, doesn't he?"
The dazed manager nodded in agreement.
Three months later...
A wave of shocking crisis happened three months later.
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: This is one of Kasa's few lone adventures. This will be a very short series, at most three chapters. I hope you like it. For the time being, I'm churning my creative juices for Lord Haru and Tenshi For Akuma. So, please be patient a while longer. Thanks.
Glossary:
Enka means (if I'm not mistaken) mellowed poetic operatic singing (if I'm wrong, correct me).
Gumi means 'clan.'
Kanbu means 'leadership seat' for the person who was appointed to succeed the former kashira after passing a test set up by the elders of several gumis.
Kashira means 'Godfather' or 'Big Boss' for a conglomerate of yakuza clans.
Kumi-cho means 'leader' for a yakuza clan like Kasanoda-gumi.
Okama means a man who wears women's clothing due to interest or work.