A Bottle of Jack Daniel's:

"Glad to see you, Kudou-san," Yoshida Koji said, standing to greet Youji. He nodded to the thin, graying lawyer in a slate suit. After the requisite talk about the weather, Yoshida waved Youji towards a chair.

"What kind of situation am I in now? Your last letter said that a settlement has been reached," Youji said.

"I was able to reach a settlement with all your creditors and Auska's. Between both debts from closing your detective agency it will cost 1,276,892 yen. I was able to collect a total of 223,743 yen from all your old clients. That leaves you a owing 1,053,149 yen to your creditors," Yoshida said, looking at Youji over the top of his reading glasses.

"Well, I'm a florist now and it doesn't pay well," Youji said dryly. He started hoping Persia would come up with a job pretty soon.

"I'm sure this is pretty hard on you, Kudou-san. It's never pleasant dealing with closing a business that's in this much debt," Yoshida said sympathetically.

"It not the money that's made this hard; it's just that..." Youji paused and furrowed his brow. Words were gone. Yoshida took off his glasses and nodded.

"It's the end of your dream that's the hardest to deal with. Especially under such tragic circumstances like the untimely death of your partner," Yoshida said, giving voice to Youji's enigma. The blond playboy gave him a wry smirk and nodded.

"Yes, that is the hardest part. Auska and I had a lot of big dreams for our agency. I guess you've seen a lot of people lose their dreams," Youji said, glancing around the stark office.

"I'm sorry to say I have, but none I've had more sympathy for than you. That's why I did a little extra research into your deceased partner's assets," Yoshida said. "I don't know if you knew this, but Auska took out a life insurance policy with Mitsui Life Insurance Company Limited. It would seem that the company owed you quite a lot of money," Yoshida said. He consulted a paper in a folder. "Yes, I settled with them for 1,054,975 yen."

"What? I don't understand? Auska never said anything about insurance," Youji said baffled.

"She took out a policy on herself naming you as the beneficiary. They weren't aware of her death since you didn't file a claim. I negotiated a settlement. You see, it's been four years since she passed away, and they were reluctant to pay out on such an old claim worth 4,566,200. I told them we would sue for the full amount if we couldn't reach a settlement. Of course that was a bluff; we would have never won a court case, so we were lucky they decided to give you this settlement. I was able to negotiate enough to cover your debts, which was the good news. The bad part is that it was only a fifth of what you were owed four years ago," Yoshida said.

"I should have known Auska would have thought ahead. She always talked about planning for the future, but I was always so stubborn," Youji said. He shook his head, thinking if only he would have had that money four years ago, he could have still made a go of being a private investigator.

"Well, my work is done, Kudou-san. I'll have you sign all of these so that I can collect and release the funds to the appropriate parties," Yoshida said, moving a stack of crisp white forms towards Youji.

He took a proffered fountain pen from the lawyer. He quickly scrawled his named in dark ink five times. It was the last form that gave him pause. It was the form that would dissolve his and Auska's business and release him from all legal claims to and from it. It was the last legal tie to her. It was also the last tangible piece to their dream together. Youji felt a hesitation to sever it.

"Kudou-san?"

"Hun? Oh yeah," Youji said, nudging away his hesitation. He plunged the pen on the paper, but neatly, carefully lettered his name.

"Good. I'll send you a confirmation letter within two weeks just to let you know when everything has been executed," Yoshida said. Both men rose and nodded towards one another.

"Thank you for all your help, Yoshida-san. I appreciate you going to extra trouble and settling my debts," Youji said.

"Oh, yes! Wait just a minute," Yoshida said. The man got out a hard-bound, charcoal colored ledger book. The man opened the book to pages of business checks for the Hijikata Law & Accounting Office. "Your business was left with such a small sum of money that I'll write you a check for what's owed now."

The man wrote out the check with the same inky fountain pen that Youji had used to close his business with. Yoshida tore the check out of the ledger and handed it to Youji. The lawyer said, "I apologize for the small amount of money. It must seem like an insult to walk away with only 1826 yen."

Youji looked at the inky number on the plain background. This was the paltry amount of money, 1826 yen, that his dream was worth. His lips clenched together to fight down the sour taste in his mouth.

"It's fine. I should be grateful to not have a huge debt," Youji said, forcing a carefree smile to his face. "Thanks for everything."

"Goodby, Kudou-san," Yoshida said. Youji nodded at the man once again before folding the check and putting it into his jeans.

It wasn't long before Youji hit the streets. It had rained while he met with his lawyer, but now he was free to walk around aimlessly for an hour. It was a beautiful, brisk autumn Saturday.

He didn't register the people that walked by or the cars speeding down the street. He passed an electronics store and realized it was almost two in the afternoon. Ken and Youji had the evening shift and would relieve Aya and Omi at three.

He moved towards the direction of the shop. It wasn't until he was on the flower shop's block that his feet stopped.

"Hey, Youji. Any good news today?" the paunchy, balding man asked. He didn't take his eyes from a newspaper. Youji started and looked around. To his chagrin, he was standing in the middle of the local grocery he and the others took turns patronizing. "Ken was just in here on Thursday. Don't tell me you guys ran out of food already."

Youji crammed his hands deep in his pockets and shrugged. His right fingertips ran over the sharp edges of the check. He said, "No. Just in here for myself." Youji walked down the crowded aisles all jammed with food merchandise on metal shelves.

He wound down his third aisle and paused. His eyes were caught by the harsh black label with bright white lettering. The black and white label was on a bottle of dark amber liquid. It read: Jack Daniel's Old No. 7 Brand, Tennessee Whiskey.

He picked up the bottle without a thought and took it to the balding man, Mr. Mita. He put it on the counter.

"Don't you usually go out with hot babes on Saturday nights?" Mita asked after a snicker. The man punched some keys on the register.

"No date tonight. I'm staying in and celebrating," Youji said in a dour tone.

"Celebrating?" Mita asked.

"I just finished closing my old detective agency. I don't owe anything, thanks to my partner who was always practical and thought ahead," Youji said. He pulled out the check.

"Hey that's great," Mita said. Youji bit back his reply, knowing the man didn't know anything about his history. Mita shifted in his chair and got out a brown paper bag. He said, "That kind of work can get a person hurt, you know? You're better off at the flower shop. A shop is good, steady money rather than that hit an miss stuff."

"Yeah. I'm much safer now," Youji mumbled tersely at the irony. "You don't mind taking this third party check? I didn't get a chance to take care of it yet."

"For you, Youji? Of course," Mita answered with a wave of his hand. Youji unfolded the check and endorsed the back. He handed over the stark white check in exchange for the black label whiskey. "Hey, you have some change coming to you."

"Keep it," Youji said. Mita tossed a pack of Youji's brand of cigarettes in with the bagged whisky.

"Don't drink it all at once," Mita half joked. There was something of concern under it; like the man thought that Youji might try to drink himself to death tonight. Youji didn't understand until he left the small grocery and looked at his expression in the reflective window. He looked as if he just came from a funeral of a beloved spouse.

He shook it off and walked four store fronts down to the flower shop. He went inside to see something out of place. Aya waited on a lady who was ordering for a wedding while Omi wiped down the coolers. Usually, it was the other way around when the two worked together since Omi was more congenial than Aya.

"Hey, kiddo. You okay?" Youji asked, sneaking up behind Omi who seemed engrossed in his task. The teenager gasped and spun around with a vexed expression.

"Youji, don't do that!" Omi snapped. Youji was taken aback by his uncharacteristic demeanor.

"Sorry," Youji said. "Bad day?"

"No! I've got a million things to do today," Omi said. Youji lightly smacked Omi's shoulder only to get a glare in response.

"Well... take off then. I'm here and Ken should be here in a minute," Youji said. Omi nodded and looked abashed.

"Sorry I'm so grouchy. I didn't mean to snap at you," Omi said. "I've got to go tutor this afternoon."

"That's okay. Be home for dinner. I'm cooking tonight," Youji said.

"What? You? It's Saturday. You aren't going to meet a girl?" Omi asked in incredulity.

"Nope. I'm going to cook you guys dinner and go lock myself in my room," Youji said.

"Well... okay," Omi said. He tucked his paper bag behind the register and shooed Omi out of the store with his hands. Omi thanked him and left the store. Youji put on his apron and watched Aya finish with the bride-to-be. Ken walked in and put on his own apron.

"I'm going to leave now since it's slow," Aya said, taking off his apron. "By the way, Omi didn't finish the deposit last night. Could you finish it?"

"That isn't like Omi at all," Ken said, as he started to sort through some of the order slips on the bench.

"I know. Don't worry about it, Aya," Youji said. The tall, cool redhead left the flower shop just as it started to drizzle rain again.

Youji picked up the flower shop's ledger. A starched, white sheet of paper slid out and fluttered to the floor. Youji bent over and picked it up. He saw that it was addressed to fictitious people, the Tsukiyonos, parents of Omi.

Youji's emerald eyes darted around to make sure the shop was empty. He called out, "Hey, Ken. Come here. Did you see this?"

Ken walked over and read the invitation over Youji's shoulder. The ex-soccer player shook his head and said, "I didn't even know he was in a contest. He didn't say anything to me."

A man walked in the shop. Youji jammed the invitation into his apron pocket and went to wait on the customer.

To be cotinued.