I wonder how many afore notes I've written wondering about whether people read these rants of mine. It feels like I write them a lot (like, one every other story), but then again, I don't usually get any confirmation that they're read, so I have to wonder. I do think at least some of you guys read them, though, which is why I write them. I also like the fact that it gives me the chance to just simply talk to you guys. So even if you guys don't tell me explicitly that you're reading these, I think I'm gonna keep writing them anyway.

Now, let's get to the story!


The next day is anything but quiet. In contrast to last night, when the house was basically empty, and the only sounds to be heard had been the chorus of cicadas, every man has seemingly returned with a voice as vocal as a trumpet. I eat my breakfast in silence as the thugs around me curse the "bastards that dared do this to them", and swear to "pump them full of lead" the next time they see them. The only one that seems to have his head still is Satou, who sits beside me eating his own meal.

"Maybe we should go eat in our rooms," he comments wryly.

"Meals are about the only times I come out of my room," I state. "I can live with a little noise."

"You're a tough chick, you know that?"

At this point, I don't even flinch when he refers to me as a girl. I've heard it enough that I've decided being irritated by it every time it's mentioned is too tiring. "What happened last night that's got everyone like this?"

"A shipment of drugs was stolen from us," he sighs.

"By the police?"

"By a rival group." He finishes his orange juice. "We aren't naive enough to let the coppers catch on to what we're up to."

My interest piques. "Rival group? What're they called?"

He blinks. "You don't know? Well if you don't know, I'm not gonna say it now. Some of these guys might pummel me for saying their name." For fear that they might do the same to me, I contain myself from asking if it was the Izuru group.

"You speak too casually to Ane-san," Eichi scolds, taking a seat across from us. I resist a grimace that threatens to show itself at the sudden appearance of the mousy man.

"She doesn't mind," Satou shrugs, glancing at me. "Don't you?"

"I don't," I confirm.

"It doesn't matter whether she minds or not," mouseman insists gruffly. "She is on the same level as the kumicho. It's disrespectful to talk to her as you are."

I pause. "Same level?"

Eichi's beady eyes dart over to me. "As his lover, yes."

Lover….the word makes me flush. The word girlfriend, which I'd been hearing until now, had been somewhat demeaning for obvious reasons. Lover, though….I like it. Even so, I admit, "I don't know if I like having that high of a position." I mean, even though Ciel had sworn it so easily, those things that he promised the night of the ritual were heavy. I'm not sure I like having the same position as him, if such burdensome responsibilities are involved.

"Well if it makes you feel better," Satou tells me, "the kumicho is actually still higher than you. We couldn't obey you if you ordered us to betray him."

"Meaning you'd listen to anything other than that?"

"Indeed," Eichi confirms.

For a moment, I stop eating. They'll listen to anything I say. How strange. These are men twice my size, men who could beat me to death if the urge came to them, and I...am in charge of them? After so many years of avoiding men like them, the notion is no less than boggling to me. It's boggling, but the thought lessens, just a bit, the discomfort of being surrounded by thugs. Do I really have to be afraid of men who will follow my every command?

As per usual, I return to my room after breakfast is finished with the mindset to binge on the Final Destination movies. As such, my day is filled with CG blood and guts with only the temporary interruption of lunch. When I eventually come out for dinner, I can hear the din of many of the men overflowing from a room nearby. I hesitate, hand wavering by the handle of the fridge. My stomach growls crossly, but I ignore it. Instead I lower my hand and go in search of the racket. If I have no reason to fear these people, then I should probably get to know them, right? Especially considering that I don't know how long I'll be around them.

I slide open a door to reveal a scene similar to the one the night of Ciel's initiation ritual. Only, instead of the tense staredown between him and Kouta, this time Ciel sits at the head of the long table surrounded by rambunctious older men on both sides. And instead of a sober, grim expression, Ciel wears an expression that shouts of annoyance. With the red flushed in his cheeks and the overly open admonishment he readily meets those around him with, it doesn't take me any time at all to realize he's drunk. This theory is further proven when the man with a buzzcut sitting next to him proceeds to pour him another cup of sake.

"Ah, Tyler!" Sebastian is the first to notice me standing in the doorway. He quickly slides along the walls to approach me. "I'm glad you're here. As you can see, the young master has gotten a little tipsy. Knowing him, he'll probably insist on having his alone time today once he returns to his room, since he hasn't had it today. Unfortunately, that means I will be unable to tend to him."

"W-Wait, you're asking me to take care of him while he's drunk?" I glance hastily between him and Ciel. "You can't be serious! What if...what if I jump him? He's so defenseless!"

Sebastian smiles chillingly. "Oh, I trust you won't do such an unladylike thing. If you were to, the punishment following would be quite severe, I'm afraid."

Growing jittery, I look back to Ciel. I don't want to imagine what Sebastian means by punishment, but I'm also not so sure I can handle being alone with a drunk Ciel.

"W...What's he like when he's drunk?" I inquire, tentative.

"I'm afraid I am not sure. The young master has never drank before."

Before I can plead my way out of his request, a man without a shirt on calls to Sebastian, "Hey, mister servant guy! I bet I can down more sake than you!"

With his apathetic smile unwavering, he dismisses, "I will leave it up to you after the party." Then he's gone before I can respond. My hand hangs in the air, having reached out to stop him. Mind a mess, my hand drops heavily and I go take a seat at the table.

"Hey, Ane-san!" A younger yakuza who has half the hair on his head shaved plops down next to me. Holding out a bottle, he asks, "Care for a glass?"

"No, no, you've got it all wrong, moron!" An older man with tattoos wrapping around his hands reprimands the one next to me from across the table. "Ane-san is a lady! You gotta offer her wine!"

"Or," Satou suddenly sits on the other side of me, "knowing Tyler, maybe we should just offer her a can of beer." Eichi clears his throat where he stands by the wall, earning a mischievous grin from Satou.

"Um," I finally speak up, drawing all their eyes back to me. "Actually, I'm underage."

The one with half a head of hair laughs. "That don't matter, Ane-san! No one's gonna get on your ass for that here!"

"I say join in the fun," Satou agrees, opening himself a beer can. Glugging down an unknown amount, he then turns to me and asks, "So, what'll it be Miss Tyler?"

"Satou!" Eichi's voice rings out harshly. "If the missis doesn't want to drink, don't make her!"

"Relax old man. She's a yakuza woman, after all! There's nothing wrong with getting a little alcohol in her system. In fact, I say it's almost expected of one in her position!"

"That's up to her!"

"It's...fine," I decide hesitantly. "I'll have a beer."

"ALRIGHT!" The half hair one pumps his fist into the air before scrambling to grab a ton of cans.

Before he can fill his arms, I rush to stress, "Just one!"

"Alright! I'll just drink the rest myself!"

That night I discover the bitterness of beer, as well as the oddly comfortable warmth with which the cold liquid sits in your stomach. I also find out that the name of the guy with only half of his hair is Daiki, and the man with the tattooed hands is called Hideo. Hideo turns out to be a sturdy comedian, always cooly cracking jokes at all the right times. Daiki, on the other hand, refuses to sit still the entire time. When he isn't engaged in conversation, he's up bouncing from person to person challenging them to drinking contests.

Eventually, while Daiki is in the middle of his third drinking contest and also looking ready to pass out, I pose the question, "So, what's this celebration about, anyway? Everyone was so angry earlier today."

"This is just how we cool our heads," Hideo explains.

Satou adds to this. "We always do this before we retaliate against something. It's kinda like saying, 'Hey look how unbothered we are! You aren't a threat enough to ruffle us.'"

"Well…" Hideo smiles, but for a moment, distress flashes behind his gaze. "That's part of it, I suppose." I nearly ask what the other part it, but before I can get the chance Hideo stands up. "I think I'm gonna retire for the night. Enjoy the rest of the celebration, Ane-san. And be sure you keep our kumicho company afterwards." With a wink, he exits the room."

I stare after him, swishing the last bits of beer around in my can. "He seemed bothered about something," I observe.

Uncaring, Satou wonders absently, "Did he?" and chugs down another can of beer. We sit in silence for awhile after that, listening in on the conversations of those around us.

At some point, the men slowly start off to bed and the room begins to quiet. When our numbers have been cut down to about half, I suddenly wonder, "Why did you join the yakuza, Satou?"

He pauses, setting down his current can and pondering this. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, because you seem a little more civilized than most of the men here."

He snickers. "Thanks, I guess. I guess it's true, though, that I wasn't heading down this path in high school. I was strong, but that was because I learned martial arts, not because I was delinquent. In fact, I got great grades compared to the other guys you see here."

"Then why…?"

"Cause I admired the leader, I guess. I found it pretty incredible that he could take in so many hopeless guys and tame them. He was a sly fox, too. Quite the tanuki. He kept my intellectual side on my toes."

"Really? That's it?" I can't help but compare him to Sebastian. Satou may have admiration, but both of them have seemingly very loose reasons for their loyalty.

"Well, the fact that I enjoyed beating people up probably had something to do with it." His eyes shine when he finishes, "And there's no better feeling than that of winning."

I let this soak in, sipping up the last gulp of the now warm beer in my hands. I wonder if all the guys here have reasons like that. Reasons that don't make much sense to outsiders, I mean.

Beer gone, I copy Satou by crushing it. Unlike Satou, I'm embarrassed to find that I have to use both hands to do it.


Satou is an interesting character to me. I know we haven't really seen all that much of him, but I feel like he's a good foil character. Foil for who? ...well, it depends. Tyler compared him to Sebastian here, but I think he's also a good contrast to Tyler. I feel like Satou is someone who's comfortable with himself, and confident, which are traits Tyler seems to lack. Or maybe they're not good comparisons, and I'm just spouting nonsense. I'll stop now. I'll save it for another chapter, cause I'm sure I'll end up doing it again.

Till then, Kisses from SnowyNeko! :3 MEOW!