For the record, thank you to all the readers and subscribers who are still with me. New and old. Hugs and cookies and beer if you like for all of you *throw*. And special thanks to sayume214 for being so supportive.
Chapter 3
Match was many things.
He was a man. Whatever else he was, he had done and did his best to live up to the man who he and many others had come to see as their father.
He was strong. And he believed he could be stronger (his continued training evidence of this belief). But the fact was he had to have reached a certain threshold of strength to get where he was today.
He loved to eat. Everybody who lived in the Gourmet Age did, doubly so if you hadn't had enough to eat at some point of your life.
He was a member of the Gourmet Yakuza. Although he knew it wasn't something well looked upon by most people, he was proud to be part of the criminal corporation. It was, after all, his family.
He was a leader and a comrade. Each and every one of his subordinates were his responsibility, and Match took this responsibility very seriously. If someone dared harm his men…Well, it didn't matter who the perpetrators were, "eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth".
He liked to think he was understanding and fair. When given the chance, he listened to everyone's side of the story and he gave everyone one chance. ONE chance. The Bishokukai, for example…scum like them shouldn't exist.
He was a subordinate and loyal. And as a loyal subordinate, follower of Boss Ryuu, Match was willing to do many things and nearly everything for his boss.
"Garruuuuuu!"
"Stupid frickin' cat!"
Including (apparently), running around Nerg trying to catch an obese cat.
Trying being a very important word here.
And it wasn't fair that such a fat cat was so fuckin' fast.
"There it goes!"
"Shin! Kuro! Leo! Circle around! Louie! Su! Banb! Take the alley! The rest of you are with me!"
As Boss Ryuu's right hand, Match was willing to do many things for his boss. It didn't matter how demeaning or how menial, if it was important to Boss, it was important to Match. Even if it meant running around like a fool to catch Lady Masako's rare (and much hated) golden Long-Haired Nekomata Siamese. And as much as Match respected and appreciated Boss Ryuu's sweet, elegant consort who was as much like a mother to them all as the Boss was a father, he had more reason than most to hate the woman's nasty-tempered cat. Since he was a child just taken in by Boss Ryuu, that cat had been out to get him.
No, Match was not imagining it.
Evil thing with that evil twinkle in its wet, beady eyes. Pissing on Match's bed sheets only for the blonde to discover when he went to bed. Stealing his underwear from the laundry basket. Leaving dead mice on his seat at the table, on his pillow, inside his shoes, or—god-forbid—inside the pockets of his jacket.
He had taken off his jacket only for a second….
Still, how the hell—
"DAAHH! It went down that hole!"
It was merely one of the smaller openings that resulted from the crumbling debris that now made up half a building. A hole half the size of that overstuffed cat. And said demo—creature had popped itself in. It had stuffed every furry inch in. Somehow.
If he wasn't currently busy and so god-damned tired right now, Match would be smacking his head on a nearby wall for the direction his mind had turned. Not even on purpose, but the way that sounded even in his head told him that he may need to stop hanging around the members of the Yakuza that were still more or less in their teenage years. They needed training, but not at the expense of Match's sanity. That his usual focus was wavering was truly a sign of just how tired he was at this point.
Innuendoes. They really seem to come from nowhere...
"CAN SOMEONE ALREADY CATCH THAT GOD-DAMN CAT?!" Match roared as he tore down another pathway. His minions in black suits and sunglasses stampeded after him.
"Are you sure this is going to work….?"
"Quiet! Of course it is! And that fat devil won't even know what hit him!"
Bara was an ordinary man. He was ordinary in every aspect.
Besides the fact that he was in the Gourmet Yakuza.
And that he was twice as big as the man who was his Vice-Boss.
And probably physically very strong. Not that he could beat Vice-Boss in a fight, but he could lift more.
But besides that, yes, he was very ordinary.
And as an ordinary person with some special physical traits but overall still has an ordinary mindset, Bara reeaalllyyy didn't think this was going to work.
"Vice-Boss," he inquired while checking his grip on the rope. It didn't matter what he thought, an ordinary man does the job his boss (or vice-boss) gives him. "Isn't this a little…extreme? In order to just catch Lady Masako's cat?"
What the faithful Bara was gesturing towards (with his words, because he really couldn't let go of that rope), was a pile of assorted, days-old smelly fishy leftovers sitting underneath a large metal cage. Said cage was supported by a rope, which was held by the very big Yakuza member. Said Yakuza and his Vice-Boss were standing around the corner of the alley this was all taking place in.
"Extreme? No, it's the perfect trap for that little, furry monster," Match reassured in his confident, leader-voice. "It'll be too busy with the fish to notice us. And with how smelly those scrapes are, it'll draw it in and keep it from sniffing us out until it's too late."
Personally, Bara though the locals would find it first and it was usually something Vice-Boss bought up in himself first, but the frazzled, usually neat(-er) blonde hair and slightly crazed, menacing gaze his superior was currently directing at everyone and everything made him swallow his words.
"I see," Bara nodded, "But, if I may ask…what is the rock for?"
Said rock was, in fact, a large chunk of debris Match had Bara pick up and tangle into the rope over the cage. If the cage came down, then the rock would come down on top of the metal prison.
"Because," Match replied with a slight drawl to his voice and a meaningful sideways look from one eye, "Accidents happen."
Bara nodded while breaking into just a bit of cold sweat. Admittedly, they had been searching and evaded and led on many chases for the past four days, but he hadn't anticipated Match already start to lose it. Scary. The larger man's twitching gaze as he nodded at Match said it all. "Of course, Vice-Boss."
Anything else that could have been said was interrupted as both of their attentions were drawn to a golden, round figure swaggering along into the alley, two tails waving as if each had its own separate mind. But both tails were of the mind that they were going to wave jauntily around and trail like flags, even if they did it separately.
"Carefully now…," Match murmured, his lips barely moving in an almost quiet hiss. "Carefully…."
Bara forcefully relaxed his grip, holding only the bare minimum nodded to keep the cage and debris chunk from falling. The two men waited anxiously, neither daring to move a muscle as they looked on as if the fat creature were a creature straight out of the Gourmet World.
"NOW!"
And chaos broke loose like a pack of enraged Troll Kongs.
A few hours later found a scuffed up and discouraged Gourmet Yakuza Vice Boss slumped on a slab of concrete slightly propped up by rubble. Match had a hand over his faces, his thumb rubbing against a spot he thought might be the epicenter of one of the more severe of his multiple headaches. His subordinates were still running around, and he…having a break. Taking a breather. Apparently his subordinates thought he needed it. That the dark bags under his eyes were a bad sign of his health. That he…
He had failed. Failed his Boss and Lady Masako
"Well, now what do we have here?" a familiar, amused female voice broke the downtrodden, depressed silence. "A grown man sulking like a little boy. Sweet."
"Not now, Kira," Match gritted out, very closing to snapping. As much as he usually enjoyed bantering with her, he just wasn't in the mood right now for her snark.
"Someone is rather grumpy today," the irritating woman drawled.
"You'd be too if you were having the days I've been having," Match all but snarled at her.
"Vexing man," came the usual, casual snort with a condescending edge. "Just tell me already. Seeing as you're just sitting here, you don't exactly have anything better to do."
"I'm trying to find Lady Masako's very important companion!" Match retorts sullenly, still refusing to look at what he was sure would be a taunting smirk spread across that female's face. He had failed and they both knew it. And he didn't need her to remind him of that!
"And seeing as how you've been apparently running yourself ragged," Kira continued, "This precious companion of Boss Ryu's consort must be pretty sly. Who or what is this companion exactly?"
"A cat," he answered in a cross between a growl and a groan. He threw his hands out a little as a desperate, disbelieving tone entered his tone. "We've been running our asses of all fuckin' week to catch a stupid fatass cat! I'm the Vice-Boss, right-hand man of one of the most ferocious figures in the world and I can't even catch a frickin' cat. If it's still even out there. Provided a starving family hasn't already caught the beast and eaten it. Stupid thing deserves it."
"Really," she answered in a deadpan voice that turned a question into a flat statement. Then came a statement that would have sounded like a question if not for the amused, dead tone she was using. "You couldn't possibly mean this cat."
One would wonder if Match got whiplash with how fast he turned his head
And there it was. The accursed golden feline that seemed to just melt over the dark-haired woman's crossed arms like so much heavy dough, purring like it had been doused in so much Golden Catnip Oil.
And, oh, yep. That's definitely the taunting smirk on her face.
Match sputtered "What the—how did you—?!"
The wicked, bordering on sassy, evil grin wrought across the short woman's face matched that evil demon-cat's stare eerily. Both were just too easily amused by his suffering and lack of usual carefully groomed composure.
"I think he likes you," Kira hummed with a wicked gleam in those dark eyes.
"L-likes me," Match sputtered disbelievingly. "Likes me?! That things been leaving scraggly, starved, dead things in my things and hairballs and piss over my…my…my everything since I was a frickin' kid."
"That's how some creatures show their affection. Or he may just be playing. Food knows, it's funny to yank your chain once in a while," Kira hummed off-handedly in a way that suggests she had just casually admitted to something that would make everyone miserable in the future. But the underlining tone rang that she was entirely too pleased with herself. Food God's oath, Match could swear each the tattoo of the Ashera cat was smirking at him. The chit was enjoying this, just winding him up and leaving him stunned and breathless and flailing like a Silkmilk Calf with disbelief. Still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He could only numbly stumble after her as she turned and strode off purposely back towards the Yakuza HQ.
For a while, they just walked in silence. Picking their way through the crumbling city, Match started to relax. He had questions to ask and things to check, but they could wait until after a short, efficient nap. Just a little time to meditate and center himself again after this fiasco. Eventually he was just strolling next to the woman as the familiar gates came into a view. It was her that broke the comfortable silence.
"You can learn to ask for help Match," she snorted as she let the (be-damned) demon cat slide onto her shoulder. It curled around her neck happily, its two sweeping tails curled lightly around the front of her neck and its head disappearing as it curled up. For all appearances, it looked like she had a massive, fuzzy scarf wrapped around her neck. Hooking an arm around an exhausted Match's, she pulled him along as if Match's soul wasn't floating out of his mouth. "For guys like you, help will always come when you ask for it."
"Even so, it doesn't mean I should ask for it," he muttered in reply as he shortened his steps to better match her shorter strides. One could say he sounded sullen, but men of the Gourmet Yakuza didn't do sullen. Besides, anyone who said so to his face would be met with a fist to their face.
"Oh stop sounding so damn sulky," the dark haired woman snapped.
Never mind.
"You aren't alone, idiot-Match," she continued as they strolled back towards the compound together. "Asking for help won't kill you or your pride. People willing to help you is a resource. Stop acting as if you should take care of everything on your own."
The towering blonde man blinked at this. Of all things, hearing that said out loud to him was a shock. He, knew of course, that he wasn't alone anymore. But sometimes (read: most the time), he couldn't help but just revert back to the mindset he had as a brat. A homeless, starving brat of Nerg that had to watch out for himself and the younger children that looked up to him. It was just…he was the responsible. Is the responsible one.
"I guess so," Match sighed after a couple more beats of contemplation. "You might be right."
"Of course," Kira snarked, dark eyes glistening with a teasing glint that shone a lighter violet than the rest of her nearly black iris. "I'm never wrong about these things."
His lips twitched a little in response before reaching down to snag the arm hooked around his, pulling it so that it rested it rested in the crook of his elbow.
Match was many things.
He was a subordinate and loyal. To the point he would humiliate himself by becoming a cat-catcher for his boss.
He liked to think he was understanding and fair. Match never took his frustrations out on his on subordinates no matter how agitated he got and no matter how many times they bumbled trying to catch a pet the size of a watermelon.
He was a leader and a comrade. After all, he had tromped throughout the city right with them chasing that hated feline.
He was a member of the Gourmet Yakuza. It is beneath him to get this riled up over a pet cat.
He loved to eat. And if he ever got the chance, he was going to eat that damn creature.
He was strong. Chasing that cat nearly nonstop for as long as he did needed an amount of stamina an average person wouldn't have.
He was a man. And as a man…
It took a woman to remind him that he was human and may need to ask for help from others sometimes.
But to be fair, she was a pretty cruel (if down-to-earth) woman.
