Author's Note: Finally updated! A big thank you to those who reviewed despite the inactivity. I actually started writing this chapter soon after I published chapter ten, but couldn't bring myself to complete it in a timely manner.
Chapter Eleven: Toxic Cocktail Hour
Yuzuki and Satoko were at a family restaurant. This particular restaurant catered to those who fancied lunch sets served on animal-shaped plates by pretty waitresses decked out in giant skirts and frilly aprons. Yuzuki had ordered lunch set C: an assortment of mismatching food from three ethnic cuisines served on a pink cat-shaped tray. Tapping her warm jello dessert with the back of her spoon, she watched as Satoko filled in a coloring sheet with crayons their waitress had provided. Children were running amok while a creepy raccoon mascot went around visiting each table. Since Yuzuki had practically demanded that they meet, she allowed Satoko to choose the place. It was not what Yuzuki had anticipated.
"The first time I ate here was with Izaya-san," Satoko said, rolling up a forkful of pasta. She had ordered lunch set F: a combination of Italian and Chinese. The tomato sauce from the pasta had oozed its way over into the fried rice.
Satoko was one of Izaya's admirers. She was older than Mikajima Saki, possibly making her one of his earlier followers. Like Saki, she too took orders from Izaya, playing as his soulless puppet and finding nothing but joy in that. The extent of her loyalty remained ambiguous, however. Yuzuki safely assumed that whatever they discussed here would be reported to the information broker himself.
"I first met Izaya-san in my last year of junior high. Around that time, my parents were going through a divorce. Neither of them wanted custody. I was sent to live with my aunt in Matsudo who had a...temper. She used to take the money I made from my part-time job to buy liquor. If I didn't give her money or if I didn't make enough, she'd get violent," Satoko said, sounding immune to those memories. "One day, I decided I'd had enough. I took all my money, came to Ikebukuro, came to this restaurant, sat at this exact table, without a clue of what to do. Then a man came to me, introduced himself as Orihara Izaya."
"Is he something of a savior to you?" Yuzuki asked.
"He was there when no one else was."
"Is that why you do his bidding?" Yuzuki wanted to be sympathetic, but regardless of where Satoko was coming from, what she had done was inexcusable.
"How else am I supposed to repay him?"
"Satoko, I need to know. Did Izaya tell you to give the store keys to the Yellow Scarves?"
"He told me to do more than that. It's because of him that I'm even at Indigo. 'Keep an eye on Yuzuki,' he said..." Yuzuki tried not to appear too unsettled by this. "Izaya-san told us a lot about you. You're like a bedtime story. The courageous Kiyomizu Yuzuki who dons her armor and prepares to cross the line of humanity for the sake of love." Satoko giggled childishly. "Something along those lines..."
"Why did Izaya have those boys break into Wataru-san's office?" Yuzuki asked, not missing a beat.
"That is something you'll have to ask Izaya-san. All I did was duplicate the store keys and give them to those middle school boys." Satoko paused for a moment. "After talking with you, I think I'm beginning to understand what it is Izaya-san wants out of all of this...You don't have to make this any of your business, you know. In what ear, out the other."
"It already is my business." Yuzuki worked at Indigo. She had friends at Indigo. Attacking Indigo was attacking her livelihood.
Satoko appeared unmoved by Yuzuki's resolve. "Why don't you move back home with your parents? Start over again? You could find a new job and maybe go to college like you've always wanted. It's too late to undo what Izaya-san has done, but it's never too late to back down." With downcast eyes, Satoko said, "Well, maybe it is too late. It seems your mind's made up. Izaya-san would be glad to hear that..." She sounded wary, as though she was speaking for herself and not reciting a script. "Don't lose."
Easier said than done.
Yuzuki looked awfully preoccupied as she sat alone in a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop run by failed actor with a five o'clock shadow. A lukewarm cup of coffee remained untouched before her. The sheer intensity of her stare, trained on the ceramic cup, was enough to reheat that bitter cup of joe. A recorder disguised as a fully functioning pen was firmly pressed between her fingers.
She was beyond pissed. "Beyond pissed" couldn't even describe how angry she was. Now, Yuzuki wasn't a violent person. That much was obvious. She didn't have much of a temper either. That much was obvious too. So, if Yuzuki ever acted violent or felt the urge to be violent, it was justified. Well, perhaps not justified (violence was never the answer to anything, as some would argue), but understandable. Comprehensible. Deserving of empathy. Anyone who found themselves in this pickle, this hard place, this calamity, this whatever—would be on the verge of committing bloody murder.
She wanted to kill Izaya.
That fucking asshole.
Those words had been looping around inside her head for about ten minutes. She kept tapping her right foot. It was never a habit of hers (tapping her foot, that is) because she hardly ever had this much unspent rage swelling within her, shutting out her voice of reason and eating away at her. Her fingers twitched. Her mouth was dry. Licking her lips, she waved down the no-name shopkeeper and ordered a glass of iced water with lemon. When her water arrived, she squeezed raw lemon juice into her mouth and gobbled up an ice cube. That hit the spot. She pinched her nose and gathered her thoughts.
1.) Her boss, Wataru, dealt in some sort of smuggling ring. At least, that's what she assumed with the expensive artwork.
2.) Izaya was targeting Indigo by paying members of the Yellow Scarves to break into the store and into Wataru's office.
3.) The photos those boys snapped and sent to Izaya were everything Izaya needed to send things spiraling out of control.
Out of her control.
"Kiyomizu Yuzuki?" someone said, coming up to her table.
"What?" Yuzuki involuntarily snapped, throwing a quick backward glance. When she saw that it was Shizuo's employer, the man with the dreadlocks, she dropped the unwelcoming tone in her voice and her out-of-character glower was replaced with bewilderment. "I-I'm sorry. That came out wrong...You're the one Shizuo...Tanaka Tom-san, is it?"
Nodding, he asked, "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all!" Yuzuki pulled up a chair and he seated himself. "Come here often?"
"Often enough to remember where to find this place. How about you? I'm finding it hard to believe that someone from Indigo would come here for coffee." Tom peered over his shoulder and did a one-eighty survey of the empty seating area.
"I like to change things up," Yuzuki said. "Wouldn't hurt to help out your local, run-of-the-mill coffee shop, right?"
"It'll take more than a few coffee purchases to stop this place from going underwater," Tom said, eying the owner whose nose was glued to a magazine.
The sound of ocean waves suddenly filled Yuzuki's ears. Subconsciously, her hand moved to feel at her neck, her fingers expecting to loop around something. She closed her eyes. An illusory gust of summer winds enveloped her. The taste of sea salt permeated the air. A blast from the past. Opening her eyes and blinking away the memory, she squared her arms on the table. "You're here on business?"
"Here on business." Tom gave a confirming nod.
Business for him either meant loan negotiations or debt collection.
Now was a golden opportunity for Yuzuki to step out of line and ask questions. She broached the issue carefully. "Speaking of things going underwater, I was informed that Wataru-san, whom you know to be the owner of Indigo (otherwise my boss), took a loan out from your agency. An inordinate sum if I'm not mistaken." Not wanting to sound impatient or distressed, she paused for a moment before lightly asking, "Did he tell you why he needed that money?"
"I'm afraid that's confidential," Tom said right away.
That went south quickly.
Tom was at no liberty of sharing such information unless he wanted to breach the privacy of his clients. Standard code of conduct. Reminded of what Fuyu said to him the other night, Tom couldn't blame Yuzuki for trying to get some answers out of him. "Are you worried about what will happen to your boss if he doesn't pay back what he owes?"
Yuzuki scratched her head. She figured if Tom was willing to hear her out, she might as well be honest. It could help change his mind. "I'm not worried about Wataru-san at all. Truth is...I don't really know him. I'm worried about what will happen to the girls and Indigo if he doesn't pull himself together."
"I can empathize with that. My agency won't come after you or your friends if Wataru-san doesn't pay his dues. You know the drill: can't come up with the money, we press you until you do. Nothing different from what a bank would do, really. Now, Indigo might tank because of that, but it is what it is."
Yuzuki knew that this wasn't an attack on her or Indigo. Simply put, this was life being unfair.
"Excuse me. I have to go," she said, slinging the strap of her messenger bag across her chest.
Seeing the disappointment written across her face as she stalked out of the shop, Tom silently regretted having pushed the subject. This wasn't how he wanted his first conversation with Shizuo's longtime friend to go.
Leaving the coffee shop, Yuzuki managed to walk to the end of the road before she got caught in an afternoon downpour. Water droplets spangled her hair as she ran and took cover under an awning hanging over the entrance of a convenience store. She peeled back the opening flap of her messenger bag to check if her phone had gotten damaged. Her phone was burrowed all the way to the bottom, thus managing to stay dry. Since the rain didn't look like it would be letting up anytime soon, she went into the store to buy an umbrella. They were sold-out—all taken by the customers before her who were still perusing the store.
Since she was here, she figured she might as well flip through some magazines and hope the rain lightened up. The magazine stacks were by the sliding doors, up against the glass storefront where she had a view of the street. Skimming through a fashion magazine, paying little attention to the season's trends and the models caked in mascara and rosy blush, Yuzuki heard someone rush into the store, cursing under his breath about the rain. One peek was all it took for Yuzuki to hide her face behind a magazine. It was Shizuo.
Yuzuki wasn't ready to face him just yet. Luckily for her, she wasn't in uniform, which would've made her ninety-nine-percent identifiable. Listening to his movements, she put the magazine down and scooted closer to the exit. Shizuo looked like he was going to disappear down an aisle (which didn't really help Yuzuki since his height enabled him to look over the shelves and into the next aisle—at her). He suddenly looked back towards the entrance. Yuzuki practically threw herself against the shelf behind her. After counting to ten, thinking Shizuo would've diverted his attention by then, Yuzuki tried for the exit—but not without knocking several items off the shelf with her messenger bag. She scurried about to pick everything up.
As she was gathering up packets of socks and nail clippers, Shizuo came over, stooped down, and began helping her. Her own hands stopped moving as she slowly looked up at him. It was only after he finished gathering everything from the floor that he met her nervous gaze. His sunglasses were slipping off the crook of his nose, giving her an unobstructed view of his eyes. There was something about that moment that made him look like he was eighteen years old again.
"Thanks," she murmured, sorting the items back where they fell from.
"No work today?" he asked, also sorting the items back where they fell from.
"I took a day off...You?"
"I'm meeting up with Tom-san."
"He's keeping you busy."
"There's always work to do. It's that kind of business. Did you want to do something after I—"
"Sorry...I have to go." Yuzuki brushed past him. She knew she shouldn't have done that. The more things that were left unsaid, the more misunderstandings she invited between them. But, she couldn't bring herself to tell him what she truly wanted all these years and, like a coward, she ran away without ever looking back. And as she ran, the rain clouds began to give way, the world around her seemed to blur, and a stifling silence fell upon the distorted cityscape. She felt lonely, trapped in her own feelings, her sense of helplessness, and self-justification.
A taxi pulled up next to her as she stopped to catch her breath.
The passenger door opened, revealing the slim arm of a man, followed by a face.
"Izaya..." The name rolled off Yuzuki's tongue like poison.
He beckoned her into the backseat. Wordlessly, she went in.
Yuzuki followed Izaya into his office. She closed the door after herself before plopping down on the couch. Izaya threw her a towel. She swiped it out from the air and wrapped it around herself. The heat from the taxi had warmed her up nicely, but her clothes were still damp from the rain. Izaya disappeared into another room. Moments later he stepped back out in a change of clothes and made the two of them a cup of tea. By then, Yuzuki had turned on her recorder, which she had tucked into the outer pocket of her messenger bag, among a collection of pens and pencils. She also had her cell phone set to record mode.
Clutching the ends of the towel to her chest, Yuzuki looked around the dimly-lit office. This was where Izaya spent his days plotting masterful schemes and indulging in his most favorite hobby: observation. Behind his desk was a floor-to-ceiling window concealed by blinds. Izaya came over to hand her a cup of tea. Still gripping the ends of the towel, Yuzuki motioned for him to set the cup onto the table. Smirking, he did as she suggested. Without a word, he retreated to his desk.
The silence was unsettling. He wanted her to have the first words.
And he the last.
"I spoke to Satoko," Yuzuki said, bringing the teacup to her lips. "I assume you already knew that."
Izaya raised his teacup as if performing a toast. That was a yes. But not a verbal yes. Yuzuki wanted to goad him into saying something self-incriminating to corroborate what Satoko said earlier. All she had as of now was someone "testifying" he had orchestrated a robbery.
"How's business at Indigo?" Izaya asked.
"All right," mumbled Yuzuki.
"Just all right?"
"How else would I describe the state of our business knowing you bribed two boys into breaking and entering the store?"
"What an allegation!"
"It's not an allegation. It's the truth."
"You know what else is true? You recording this conversation."
"Am I now?"
"Yuzuki, Yuzuki, Yuzuki." Izaya shook his head. "I know. Let's not waste any more time."
"In that case, I have nothing to say to you."
Yuzuki was halfway out the door when Izaya said in a low but audible voice, "Recording this conversation won't do you much good. My arrest won't stop Wataru from digging deeper into his grave or stop Indigo from sinking into financial ruin. Bringing the local police into this will only exacerbate the situation. This is beyond their jurisdiction."
Standing in the threshold, Yuzuki pretended to hesitate as if she were conflicted. She actually wanted Izaya to stop her from leaving. Unfortunately, everything he said just now was too quiet for the recorders to pick up. Taking a step back and closing the door, she took in a deep breath before returning to the couch. She dug her phone out from her pocket, turned off the recorder, and placed the phone on the coffee table for Izaya to see. "Awakusu-Kai...is it?"
"One of their members is quite upset with your boss."
"Does it have something to do with why you had those middle school boys break into his office?"
"What do you think?"
Wataru-san is an art collector. It's possible he possesses some very rare artifacts, ones that have been stolen and smuggled into the country. That requires a lot of money. It would explain the loan. If that's the case, I can see why Awakusu-Kai would take an interest in him...Those middle school boys took photos of Wataru-san's office and sent them to Izaya...There must've been something important in his office. Otherwise, what's the point? If Izaya has evidence that proves to Awakusu-Kai that Wataru-san has something they want, then Izaya can use those photos as leverage...
It was all starting to come together.
"Your boss hangs out with the wrong crowd and his taste in friends will affect you and everyone else at Indigo," said Izaya. "Wataru is going to squeeze out all the money from his existing businesses to fund his hobby. His debt collectors won't see their money come back. As for Awakusu-Kai, they're going to make Wataru make a run for his money and pretty art pieces. And if they can't get to Wataru, they might come after you and the girls."
"Since when did they start going after innocent people?"
"They're yakuza for a reason. But, aren't you missing the bigger picture? If you become a target, they might seriously hurt you. Isn't there a certain someone who would hate to see that happen? Say, for example, Shizu-chan? Protecting you would be easy for him. He could take out a bunch of gangsters so long as he doesn't get shot in the head or heart."
"Is that what this is about? For you to see Shizuo get killed because of me?" Yuzuki somehow managed to sound calm despite the anger boiling over inside her.
"Please..." Izaya almost sneered. "While it would bring me great pleasure to see that monster get put down, this is more about you than it is about him. Don't you see what I've done?"
"You mean the twisted little game you've devised to officially screw me over?" Izaya had really put her in a bad spot. She didn't want Indigo to go bankrupt. She didn't want Awakusu-Kai breathing down her neck. And she didn't want Shizuo to get his hands dirty in any of this.
"I suppose you could call it a game as long as someone's having fun, which would be me in this case," Izaya said as if this was news to him. "But, just because I'm having fun doesn't mean things have to go my way. There are things even I can't predict. In the coming months, Ikebukuro will have some interesting personalities roaming its streets. The people you meet, the enemies you make, the help you extend...These will all contribute to the game's end. What counts as a win or a loss is for you to determine," Izaya said, leaning back into his swivel chair. "I'm giving you a chance."
"A chance at what?" Yuzuki said with a light, exasperated huff as she crossed her arms.
Sensing her impatience, Izaya gently and almost kindly said, "A chance for you and Shizuo to be together."
"Oh really? And why would you do that?" she asked incredulously.
"I want to see where your heart is...Well, I know your heart is on the left side of your chest. Metaphorically speaking, you know what I'm getting at when I speak of matters of the heart. What we're having now is a heart-to-heart." Izaya pointed at her and then to himself. "Depending on the path you take and the doors you close, others doors will open and the outcome of it all might surprise you. Who knows. It might surprise all of us."
"That's your incentive? To see what becomes of my love life?" It all sounded juvenile to her. She uncrossed her arms, suddenly conscious of her own childish gestures. This didn't go unnoticed. Izaya held her with an endearing look, as though he saw her as some sort of kitten he found stranded in the rain. She didn't know if he meant to belittle her or not. Either way, she found it inappropriate.
"To see what becomes of you. This is your life, Yuzuki. I'll throw a few curveballs your way, but at the end of the day, your life is in your hands." Izaya opened his arms out to her. His perpetual smugness was oozing out through his lips which were curved into a loathsome smile. Yuzuki suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. He was so detestable.
"We all have choices. That's what makes the twenty-first century so great," Izaya said, getting to his feet and taking small strides towards the couch. "This is as much of a chance for you to get what you want as it is to get what I want." Going down on one knee, he lovingly took her hand in his. His touch was warm. No. It burned. And yet, Yuzuki didn't pull away despite her instincts demanding that she do.
With a seemingly innocuous smile, he said, "You and I finally have a chance." He leaned in close, his head tilted at an angle suited for a kiss. His voice was soft and inviting. "A chance for us to be together."