[Shizuo, due to unforeseen circumstances, I am to return home to Hokkaido tonight. Please forgive me for not telling you in person.]
Deleted.
[I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you this in person, but I am leaving for Hokkaido. I don't know when I will be back, but I hope to keep in touch with you.]
Deleted.
[Shizuo, I am actually a spy for the government. Due to a top secret mission, I have been called to Hokkaido for a variable number of weeks. I do not know if we will meet again, but I'd like you to know that the nights we spent together were my absolute favorite. Forever yours, Secret Agent Amai.]
'This one's funny, but I think he'd kick my ass faster to Hokkaido than this train could if I sent that,' I thought, my overall attitude sour as I tried to think of something to say to Shizuo via text message. Although in retrospect, anything I sent in text message form would piss him off to no end if I didn't say it in person. Snapping the phone shut, I dropped my hand to my lap and turned my head to stare blankly out the window, the roving hill sides making me nauseous. On my right Colm slept soundly, snoring lightly every few minutes. Across the seat from me, Kichiro copied my posture, his own eyes turned on the horizon, but his fingers keeping themselves busy as they absentmindedly picked and pulled at a think banded collar with a little box attached on one side of it. When I asked him about it prior to boarding the train he said he didn't want to talk about it.
"Hey Kichiro, can you help me out with something?" I asked him, deciding that now was as good a time as any to both solve my communication problem and figure out what the deal was with the collar.
"Déjà vu moment. What? Did you beat up someone else when you went to the bathroom ten minutes ago?" he asked, unusually grouchy for this time of day.
"Screw you dumbass, I just wanted to know what you said to Misa-chan before we left. I can't figure out what to say to Shizuo," I told him, sneering a bit at his attitude towards my minor meltdown last week. It's not like he's the one doing community service anyway.
"Well, my only advice is to not say anything that would make him put a shock collar around your neck and give the remote to your sadistic brother who'll shock you just because it's funny and because he wants revenge for lighting his socks on fire."
"To be fair, you lit them on fire while he was wearing them. Also, if you get shocked while you're with Colm and he doesn't have the remote, that'll be me getting more revenge for that time you slept with my ex-friend," I said, holding up the little black box and teasingly hovering my thumb over the red button, watching his face shift repeatedly between excessive rage and uneasiness.
"You're a bitch, ya know that?"
"Everyone in two cities knows that."
"Yeah, but they don't know you like I do."
"True enough. So, are ya gonna help me out or not?" I asked him, growing annoyed that he was stalling his answer.
He looked away from me, up towards the ceiling, over at the window, down at the center aisle. Really he was just pretending to think about it to just piss me off some more. Making a small impatient noise, he finally consented to helping me out, only to demand my phone and after pressing a few buttons he tossed it back to me, a big, self-satisfied smile on his face. Suspicious, I flipped open my phone and looked through the messages—sent or received—and found nothing changed. Glancing up at him, I silently wondered what he did, but after looking through the rest of my phone, I put off my questions for later when I would have more room to wail on him if he did something.
Looking back to my left, I watched the last stop slide into view and, after nudging Colm awake, prepared for the second to last leg of the journey.
DRRR!
"It feels like we just did this last week, doesn't it?" Kichiro surmised; his arms folded behind his head as he leaned his back against the side of the truck. Currently we were inside the old pick-up truck, the only other vehicle available for transportation since Kichiro—according to Carney's words—maliciously destroyed the other one.
"How would you know? You and Colm were sleeping the last time we came up here," I replied, kicking his leg away from me when it invaded my side of the flatbed. He kicked my leg in retaliation and continued on like nothing happened.
"D'you think Uncle Kashi is coming?" he asked, tapping the open window of the truck's cab where Kazuhiro and Colm sat. I didn't dare question why Hiro-chan was the one to greet us at the docks since it was obvious Carney would have killed Kichiro the nanosecond he saw him. I'm actually surprised Carney didn't even attempt to come down to Ikebukuro and drop kick his ass into traffic. I guess there's a reason why his girl friend is named Setsuko. Although a pissed off Carney is more trouble than the poor girl could handle, even if she was the most patient girl on the planet.
"Doubt it. Guy burns down an abandoned warehouse for cheap thrills and ends up with twelve years in the slammer. Still got four years left and variable amount of time for psychological help," Kazuhiro stated from the drivers' seat.
My brother. The ever gloomy person you can't help but love.
"Yeah, but Mom was his sister. They can't let him out for a few hours to go to her funeral?" Colm asked his displeasure evident on his face.
"They let him out for parole last year and look at how that went. If he can't last a week, then a few hours shouldn't be any different," I said, looking behind me at the passing buildings and the vaguely familiar people I grew up with.
"Yeah, but still," Kichiro said trying to keep the conversation going. There wasn't really a point though. When it came to Uncle Kashi the family was split in two: those who loved him no matter what, and those who judged him by his poor choices. I myself danced along the line.
"Arson's like an illness. It tends to spread and get out of control," Kazuhiro stated, glancing back at him for a second before returning his eyes to the road.
"Either way, Dad won't be happy. On the one hand, he should be there, but on the other…they'll most likely exchange verbal insults and then duke it out on the front lawn again," Colm said stating his thoughts on the opposing teams outlook of Uncle Kashi visiting the farm for a couple hours. Or rather, paraphrasing what happened about ten years ago during Sora's fifth birthday party.
"What say you, Amai?" Kichiro asked me, turning his attention back to me.
"What say me what?" I asked him, turning my own attention away from some punk kids pulling faces at me.
"You studied psychology online right? You're the only one here qualified to give a statement on Uncle Kashi's mental state of mind," Kazuhiro stated looking away from the red light we were stopped at.
"Well, in my semi-professional opinion…I find that it wouldn't be the best of situations for someone prone to arson to come to an area of flammable objects strewn around every which way, especially in such a vulnerable state," I said, calling upon every ounce of professionalism I had to offer for this evaluation of my uncle's psychotic mind.
"Then that settles it. If Amai's opinion means less than half of a real psychiatrists', then he's not coming."
"Hey! I resent that!"
"And yet no one cares."
"Are we at Sora's school yet? I don't know when this started, but this conversation has turned into a "bash Amai"-fest," I said aggravated.
"Just let it go, Amai. Kazuhiro's just venting his frustration. His choice of words could use some control though," Kichiro said looking thoughtfully at the back of Kazuhiro's dyed head.
"Bite me, Horn-dog."
"Hey! I'm just trying to justify you're actions, and then you turn on me?! What the hell is wrong with you?"
I don't know if it is possible, but the mental snap of Kazuhiro's mind seemed almost physical, and it seemed to take the form of squealing tires as he stomped down hard on the breaks, causing several cars behind us to swerve and narrowly miss our rusted red car's ass. They drove past us, shouting verbal insults and threats at us, but we neither concerned ourselves with their words, nor acknowledge them as we focused our attention on our bent-over-the-wheel brother as he silently fumed, knuckles white as he gripped the wheel.
Kichiro peeled himself from the cab's window, the force of the break having crushed him—and me—against it. "Give a guy a warning next time. Colm almost went through the windshield! The hells the matter with you?!" he shouted angrily, poking his head through the window to question him directly.
"I'm the one who's acting wrong. I'm the one who's got a problem. What about you three?! What the hell is the matter with you bastards?! From the minute I pick you up, you say nothing but this crap. Not a word about Mom or anything else! You think that's okay? You think you can just ignore it and it'll go away? That she'll come back and everything goes back to normal? Wake up! This is reality. So acknowledge it."
I'd never known Kazuhiro to be verbally passionate about anything. Rants alone were rare and few in between when he was mad about something, or when he worked up the emotion to actually be mad about anything. On his darkest day when Mamimi managed to annoy him with her endless amounts of cheerfulness, he'd just plain tell her to shut up and that was it. Of course, when he did that he'd wind up on a short leash, and jumping through hoops to get her through the gloomy mood he'd put her in. This was the first time he had ever raised his voice to any of us in his eighteen years of life.
He went silent after his small rant, turning his head back towards the windshield and leaning his forehead on the edge of the steering wheel. "I just want her to come back," he whispered, so soft and weak and full of sorrow that it just damn near broke my heart with the sheer sound of it.
I stood up from my seat in the flatbed and sat down on the edge of the side of the truck. Kichiro looked at me but said nothing, instead looking back at Kazuhiro as he breathed in deeply, like he was trying not to cry.
I've only seen Patrick cry at the birth of our brothers, the birth of his son, his wedding, even his engagement.
I've only known Kichiro and Colm to cry when it either suited them or the situation.
I've seen Sora cry a lot, but only when he was being teased mercilessly by us about his addiction to the winged vermin.
I have never seen Carney or Kazuhiro cry, either in front of us or out of sight; the only exception being when they were babies and cried at everything.
I'm not going to let a bunch of strangers on the street see my brother in this vulnerable state.
"Move over, Hiro-chan," I said, dropping down to the pavement and opening the door. He gradually let go of the steering wheel and slid closer to Colm, all the while keeping his head down and his hands clenched in his lap.
"Listen closely, Hiro-chan. Don't tell us we don't care, and we don't grieve and any of that crap. We just do it in our own way. You lash out at the people who love you. I beat up random gang members and get into a twenty-four hour holding cell. Last week Colm and Kichiro choked during the Bar Exam. Broke down before the halfway point and had to be escorted from the building," I told him, sliding in next to him and slamming the door. The window rattling as I looked out the window shield with a cold glare at the pedestrians and drivers looking and talking pointedly at the truck parked in the middle of the street hindering traffic.
Glancing away from the intrusive people I looked towards my younger brother, who had the heel of his hand pressed against his eyes in an effort to keep from crying. One hand on the wheel, I reached beside me and touched the top of his ear, earning a questioning glance from Kazuhiro before it morphed into something like anger when I roughly grabbed it and twisted it forward, earning a growled insult and the biting of his short, blunt nails into my wrist when he wrenched my hand away.
"I can forgive you calling us unfeeling bastards and that colorful word you called me just now, but don't forget Mom's number one rule: no weak emotions in front of the enemy," I told him, gesturing to the crowd of people on the sidewalks and the line of cars behind us incessantly honking their horns. Underneath the noise I heard the distinct sound of a patrol car, and through the mirror I saw the car coming up behind us. In no more than a few seconds he'd be right next to us, so now would be the time to wrap this up.
"Understand Kazuhiro? Save the water works for home or, if you prefer it, the loving bosom of Mamimi-chan." he nodded his understanding, all the while rubbing his sore ear and eyes to get rid of any evidence of his slip up. Beside me the blaring horn cut off and the door slammed shut as the officer walked to the driver of the car, i.e. me.
"What seems to be the problem officer?" I drawled as the officer came close to the car. An officer otherwise known as Ito Yuki.
"Good question. Mind telling us why you're stopped in the middle of the road? Or if you plan on being there much longer?" he asked me crossing his lanky arms across his chest while he smirked up at me like a giddy child who knew the punch line to a good joke.
"Family…issues—who's "us"?" I asked him genuinely confused since as far as I knew his partner had quit months earlier, some kind of PTSD or some such.
The "us" would be me and Hikaru." At the sound of her name she leaned out of the left side of the vehicle next to us and waved enthusiastically. Needless to say the three hormonal men—and I use the term loosely—had their eyes pinned to a place a little more south of her waving hand, her slipping glasses, even her happier-than-happy smile. Behind me I heard a yelp and what sounded slightly like buzzing electricity. I could only assume that Colm either had little to no interest in Hikaru's "generous endowment", or he didn't have a clear view. "She came with me on a ride along. Not to mention this is my way of making it up to her for missing our six year anniversary," he said looking sheepish.
"Seems pretty boring. Couldn't have thought of anything more fun or sexy?" Kichiro said, making a lot of noise as he slowly clambered back up into a sitting position, only to be sent back down when Colm zapped him again.
"Why does your brother…have a shock collar…" he didn't finish his sentence, or rather, he couldn't since the situation was too odd to even make a proper sentence.
"It's too sad to tell you, but I will say that his girlfriend has him by the—" of course before I could finish my sentence the chief of police in this here city called in, drawing everyone in our little bubble of inter relationship space to the police monitor in the car. Hikaru sat back down and picked up the receiver, imitating Yuki's voice so perfectly it could have fooled even me—someone's who's known him since the second grade of elementary school. Of course, the officer on the other end of the line was no ordinary person, and besides his father, she was only one who could tell a fake from the original. I'm even embarrassed to say to myself—and myself only—that she scared the shit outta me.
"Get off the line, Hikaru, and put my son on," she said in that cold voice of hers that made me inwardly grimace at the sheer sound of it.
'Like Izaya's knife at my throat, but less creepy,' I thought, listening in on their brief conversation along with my two older and one younger brother.
"Listen closely, Kid. We've got a hoodlum acting up like a teenage girl during her time of the month, and he's over running our officers like they're paper dolls. We need you down on Twelfth Street ASAP as backup until we get some tranquilizers on hand."
"Isn't there like a code for this? I feel like there's a code," Yuki said, either stalling because he didn't want his girlfriend in harm's way or because someone who needed tranquilizer bullets seemed like someone he didn't want to encounter.
"Shut up and get your ass down here now! This guy is as crazy as bat shit, and you have my tranquilizer gun."
Oh right, her gun. How many times have I been shot by that thing?
"Got it, got it. What corner street is he on?"
"Trust me, Kid. You'll know the street when you get down her—HEY! Stand down! You're only making it worse for yourself, Hoodlum!" In the background we heard something akin to shouting police officers and what might have been the hoodlum yelling before the receiver cut off. To anyone else, this would mean trouble, but to Yuki it was just his mother raising hell against a two-bit thug in a not-so-small, yet not-too-large town. Although, for him to need tranquilizers…must be having a steroid induced meltdown. If I was in the laughing mood I might have made a joke about this theory. Something that might've went along the lines of having no balls. Too bad I was still in a bad mood.
"Tch, she should have just taken the damn car. Not like her to leave her gun though," Yuki muttered to himself, reaching past Hikaru to her seat belt, unclipping it and opening the door for her. "Can you stay with Amai, Hikaru? You might get hurt."
"And by that you mean…" I added just to see Yuki squirm.
"Exactly what I mean, Amai," Yuki said rather tersely, glaring at me slightly, unknowing that Hikaru was sticking her tongue out at him with a sour expression, and crossing her arms defensively in front of her breasts, like she was trying to protect them from ridicule.
"Fine, fine. We'll take Hikaru home with us after we pick up some high school students," Kazuhiro said, leaning across me to talk out the window. "Get in the back with me and Amai, Big Breast-san."
"Of course, Gloomy Prince-sama," Hikaru said mockingly, giving a little curtsy in her jean shorts.
Yuki gave us a look, like he was skeptical of our willingness to take his girlfriend off his hands for a few hours. He was right to be of course, after all, he had known us for seventeen years.
DRRR!
"This isn't the road to the road to your house," Hikaru said leaning over the top of the cab, hand over her eyes to shield her from the sunlight overhead, fluffy hair blown back by the wind.
"Didn't take you long to figure that one out," Kazuhiro said sarcastically, his long form laid out along the flatbed, his black eyes squinted shut against the intrusive sunlight.
"She might be gone, but we're still her kids. Not to mention her inquisitive bone got passed down to all of us," Colm shouted back over the roar of the music playing over the radio.
"Like we're gonna pass up seeing someone who needs tranquilizers in him? Pfft, we might be law students, but we gotta let the cat out sometime. Curious is we," added Kichiro laughingly, turning the car down another side street.
I think I've known Hikaru for close to twenty years, yet it still amazed me that she didn't see things like this coming from us—me most of all.
"Good point, turn up ahead, I think I hear screams and whatnot," Hikaru said, pointing towards the left, even though the driver couldn't see her. Despite the loud music and inability to see her pointed finger, Kichiro turned left at the next block, onto a street filled with chaos incarnate.
I didn't think it would happen. Some part of me always believed there was a line, as insane as that sounds. Maybe I thought it was more a matter of distance, because surely that wasn't him in the middle of a ring of police officers. And that couldn't possibly be his friend sitting on top of a car smiling delightedly at the madness around him like a child watching a cartoon. And, as neurotic as it sounds, it couldn't possibly be because of me, could it? To the girlish part of me, it made me blush at the mere thought, to the more dominant, take-no-shit, bitchy side of me…the chaos was about to get a little more chaotic.
Of course, nothing was set in stone. I'm sure if I played this out correctly I could get him to calm down and I could find out what exactly he was doing here. The police would settle down and stop aiming whatever weapon they had available at him, and we could go pick up Sora and the girls together. Simple, elegant, sane.
Too bad I was never one to follow plans through.
'Simple, elegant, sane. Simple, elegant, sane.' This was what went through my head over and over and over as I jumped out of the back of the parked truck, pinching my earlobe to temporarily gain composure before walking towards the mess he had somehow gotten himself into.
I think there were a few hundred things I could have said after I'd weaved my way, however forcefully, through the policeman stronghold. Things regular people said to their somewhat strange significant other. Things like… "Calm down" or "Put the stop sign down". I wasn't quite sure if the thing I said qualified as such. But, you know, there's a first time for everything in this new modern era of rudeness and/or non-subtlety.
"Shizuo, you giant blonde jackass! What the HELL are you doing here?!"
