Koi No Yokan
April 3rd, 1997.
Shinya.
The sun beams through the translucent curtains of the windows above, splitting light across the futon bed where a sleeping drummer lies. The white sheets are tangled with his thin, pale limbs – almost camouflaging the young man in their cotton folds. On top of a white pillow rests his mop of a head, dark auburn locks scatter across the surface. The room is quiet with the scent of flowers; the candles had burnt out long before he fell asleep the night prior, but the aroma still fills the space.
A knock on the front door stirs him in his sleep. He groans irritatingly. He hasn't gotten his full hours of slumber and that always leaves him grumpy. The knocking continues getting louder and harder the longer it takes for the drummer to wake. He finally opens his light brown eyes to block them from the beaming sun with a delicate hand. For a drummer, he is petite and fragile – skinny and breakable – and even his hands – that should we calloused and hardened – are soft and thin.
"Shinya!" Shouts a familiar voice to him. He grumbles and rolls over, covering his head with his pillow to block out the sound but the knocking continues and doesn't quieten even with the pillow covering his ears. The sound of keys chiming echoes throughout the apartment and finally, the clicking of a dead bolt as it is forcibly unlocked.
Shinya throws the pillow to his side and sits up, his hair falls to the sides of his face. Before the singer enters the room, Shinya gets up and throws on a pair of blue jeans. He is already wearing a white tank top but he searches his closet for a proper shirt anyway. He knows what they have planned for the day is both serious and dangerous.
Their band isn't getting into as many venues as they are hoping too, so they have gone to the next level of desperation. The Yakuza. It isn't something Shinya, Die or Toshiya wanted but Kaoru and Kyo have faith in what they are asking. All they want are more places to show off their skills whether it is bars, nightclubs, or hell, even small time restaurants – though their music isn't exactly appropriate for such establishments. They need places to play. They need to be seen. They've been at the music industry for so long that it is becoming tiresome not to be heard.
A young blonde male walks into the room from down the short hall, his eyes narrows as he inspects Shinya. Kyo knew Shinya would be properly dressed and his manners are nothing to be concerned about, but the singer would still worry about the upcoming meeting. The Yakuza family they are meeting may be small but they are growing in size and popularity. The Miya family to be exact.
The family started off as small town thugs before they found an Oyabun suitable to take charge. And he did. Kyūseishu Miya was an older gentleman who knew how to run a business and a family. He swindled large corporation in owing him money when they began to fall in their own businesses. He knew the perfect places to run a gambling ring without being caught or suspected, and he had a habit of taking in people who were down on their luck, earning their loyalty and respect. He was strict on his code of conduct and made sure his rules were followed or else severe punishment would be taken.
"Remember try to keep quiet and respectful. We don't want to piss these people off, especially the Oyabun's son." Kyo reminds Shinya.
The drummer nods his head and lets out a quiet sigh. He isn't ready for this. His heart hammers in his chest from the adrenaline that is kicking in. What if the Miya family didn't agree to the terms? Would they just be allowed to leave without paying some sort of bargain? Shinya doesn't think so. He knows there would be more than just an in and out. These men are dangerous. Dangerous as they come. The Miya clan has expanded to the sex trade and dabbles in the black market. He doesn't want to be a part of that.
"Everything will be okay," Kyo says. It is like he is reading Shinya's mind, or maybe the drummer's face is showing more emotion than he thought he is letting on.
"What if they don't like us? What if they don't want to make a deal?" Shinya frets.
"Everything will be cool," Kyo shrugs. He doesn't look like there is a lick of worry or panic on his face. The singer remains calm and collected, something Kyo isn't prove to acting like. He usually slept or was depressed or angry about something. But right now? It is like Kyo is going into an interview he knows he'll pass.
Shinya isn't so sure of Kyo's positivity but he has little else he can do about it.
The band passes by trash that sits against the edge of buildings and phone poles that stretch to the sky but who's wires hang low. Even with the buildings casting shadows down upon the alley they walk, it still is hot out. It is midafternoon, and sweat drips down their spines and frizzes their once tended to hair. They aren't dolled up but did put on some makeup to express the rock-style of their band. They want to show that they want to be taken seriously and did this by dressing up in some of their lighter formal band attire.
The alley is quaint and littered with small time restaurants and bars that are hardly populated for the time of day. So it is a surprise to them when they notice a two story building that has a long line outside of its sliding doors. A tall, black muscled man stands by the door, a clipboard in one hand and a pen in another. The walls are covered in yoshizu, the screens protecting the inside of the building from the sunlight that openly shines down upon the establishment.
The line of people consists of Harajuku and dance club dressed folk, they dawn heavy makeup on their faces that sweat dribbles down their necks while they wait chatting to one another in small groups. Above the sliding glass door is a sign that reads ''Dākudansu'.
This is the place.
The band reaches the bouncer in front of the line, earning scowls and glares from the people from the front. Each member of the band bows respectfully to the man.
"We're here to see Mr. Miya." Kaoru says to the bouncer; the leader of the group is the first one to rise and the others follow.
The tall black man is very bulky in size, abnormal for Japan, his head shined from sweat that trickles down to his neck. His near black eyes glance over to the group hardly from the corner of his eyes.
"Name?" His voice is the deepest Shinya has ever heard. Clearly American with his accent speaking Japanese.
"It's probably under Dir En Grey." Kaoru poles the clipboard, earning a grimace from the bouncer. He pulls the clipboard to his large chest to stop Kaoru from continuing and pulls it away to look over the sheets of paper. He pauses, his near black eyes scanning the names and nods.
"Fine," The bouncer spits, "Second floor to the right."
Kaoru looks back at the group with a crooked smile and nods his head towards the sliding door. Shinya's heart panics in his chest and he starts to feel light and dizzy. Kyo catches him as he sways and looks up at his drummer friend with worry.
"I'm okay," Shinya reassures, but even he doesn't know if it's true.
They make their way through the sliding door when a gust of air conditioning pushes down on them. They gently push away the cloth of a noren (entrance curtain) to get inside. The marsh reed screens that cover the outside windows do their job for the inside is nearly pitch black going in. When they pass the curtain they walk down a small hall with navy blue walls with old Japanese paintings lining them. Brilliant lights glitter onto the main floor when they enter, bodies sway to the beat of Japanese mixed pop music. It is loud, crowded and cool. The bar sits against the front wall next to the hall. Its island lit from below with a green light. The dance floor takes up the rest of the bottom floor, except for a pair of halls on the right wall where the rests are down.
To the left of the bar is a set of stairs that lead up to the second floor that partially overlooks the dance floor with wide open windows/ They can't see into the windows for they are blacked out but they can feel the eyes watching from the glass.
"Let's go." Kaoru says.
Shinya follows the group from the back, slowly trailing behind to catch his breath. Once up the stairs they can see that the room to the right has two bodyguards in black suits standing by the sliding paper screen doors. Both guards lift their hands to stop the band from continuing and eyeing them up and down.
"This area is restricted," one says.
"We have a meeting with Mr. Miya," Kaoru announces.
The two guards look at one another before the one nearest to the stage slides open the door and peers inside.
Toshiya curiously leans forward to try and look inside but is nudged by Die to quit it. The tall bassist frowns and crosses his arms. "None of that, remember, be respectful," Die hisses quietly to his tall friend.
"Do we have guests, sir?" The man asks, his voice suddenly very submissive.
There is a brief moment of silence, except for the beating of music coming from down below. The man nods and turns back to them.
"They are expected."
"Search them," the other orders.
The band freeze in place – now more uncomfortable than they have been before the meeting. One by one they stand forward and are patted down. Shinya is last, closing his eyes tight and afraid that he may be groped for looking like a female. A common mistake people often have with him. But when he is finished and not assaulted, he opens his eyes wide and steps back next to Kyo and Toshiya.
After the patting and checking to see if they have weapons, the guard opens the door and allows them in, one by one.
An eagerness suddenly fills Shinya, a great part of him is interested to see the inside of a gangsters hang out. He's never experienced anything like it and when he enters he is surprised. Noh masks line the left and back walls that are gray in color. A fancy black couch sits against the left wall and once Kaoru moves Shinya sees the room is littered with people finely dressed except for one. The man who isn't sharply dressed sits on a black leather chair against the back wall in the center. All the other men and a few ladies, watch as the band come in before going back to their business of playing cards, drinking and smoking.
The room smells of nothing but cigarettes and the ceiling is covered with smoke. Shinya's nose wrinkles in distaste. He hates cigarettes. To the right is a wall with a gigantic window that overlooks the dancefloor and entrance to the building. A small mahogany coffee table stands in the middle of the small room where cards, cigarettes holders and glass cup decorate the tip.
The man who isn't finely dressed and who sits alone in the back finally lifts up his black eyes at them, a cigarette hangs loosely in between his lips. He isn't your typical Japanese Yakuza; he's not wearing the fashionable suits that the formal gang wears and his jet black hair isn't slicked back. Instead, he wears a black tank that displays the tattoos on his well-toned arms; a pair of red dragon eyes on each rounded front delt next to his collarbones. His hair is cut rugged and hangs in a tide from just below his eyes to his shoulders in the back. He is a devilishly handsome man, leaving Shinya to wonder why he is not surrounded by the chancy clad females of the room.
He's dangerous, it is obvious to Shinya, because the man doesn't care to have his tattoos seen by civilians like the band. Though, the band came here for the purpose of meeting a Yakuza leader.
"Ah, Mr. Miya?" Kaoru asks, stepping in front of the group and bowing.
Shinya watches as the man at the far end of the couch snickers. His black hair is tied in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck and his black suit jacket is open showing off the white long sleeve underneath.
"Hear that, Mr. Miya," The man toys, he looks over to the man who sits in the back with a coy smile.
"Shut it Dye," The man hisses with a deep voice that sends shivers down Shinya's spine.
Die takes a step back, his hand on his chest and his eyes wide. The red head isn't sure if the man was talking to him or not, but when the he saw the man with the black eyes turn his attention to the man on the couch, he realized they have similar sounding names.
"You can call me Heero," the man on the chair replies, his eyes falling back to Kaoru, and then he scans the band altogether. "This your band?" He asks. He manages to speak without dropping his cigarette that burns at the middle of its bud.
"Yes, sir." Kaoru waves back to the ground that stands behind him, "We're known as Dir En Grey."
"Unusual name," Heero takes the cigarette out of his mouth and places it in the holder at the edge of the coffee table, "So you want to be famous?"
"Well," Kaoru looks back at us, but all they can do is watch him. He turns back and takes a deep breath, "We want our music heard but we're having trouble getting into venues. We were wondering if we can play in some of your nightclubs and bars."
Heero leans for the table and snatches a glass filled with amber liquid and tips it in between his lips. He swallows and places the glass back down. He lifts his left hand and makes a gesture for someone to come forward. Shinya glances slowly over his shoulder to notice that one of the bodyguards from outside had come in with them and was standing behind them, hands resting together against his waist.
When he sees the gesture, the bodyguard walks over to Heero's side and leans down. Heero whispers something in his ear, and the man nods before departing and leaving the room altogether.
"It's not a bad request, I have to admit. We get bands asking to play for my clubs all the time but I usually listen to them before I allow them to play in my venues." Heero sits back in his chair, both arms resting on the armrests lazily.
Heero shifts out of Shinya's view, making the drummer have to look over Kaoru's shoulder a little to get a better look at him, this forces him to step in front of Kyo who watches him with a raised brow.
The drummer's heart jumps in his chest when Heero's eyes fall on him, watching the sudden movement like a predator to his prey. Shinya freezes in place, the sound of his heart thumping in his ears takes over the bass of the music from downstairs.
"But I like you boys," Shinya notices Heero says this while watching him and that frightens him a little. "You can play tomorrow night, here. It's small but I'd like to hear you play before sending you somewhere bigger. I can clear off the DJ floor and make it into a place for you to play." Heero's eyes twitch away from Shinya to Kaoru, "But there will be a price."
The group looks at one another with hesitation between them. Shinya knew this would happen - there is always a price.
"W-what's the price?" Kaoru stutters, something their leader never does. He is always a firm, serious leader who can be funny and playful when the time is right. But he always calm and collected when it comes to the band.
Heero lifts up his arms and drops them back down onto the armrests, "I haven't figured that out yet, so you have a free pass for right now. But watch yourselves, don't be late. Tomorrow at eight."
"Yes, sir." Kaoru responds.
When Kaoru bows, so does the others, and then the leader ushers them out the door and down the stairs. They stop at the bar where they turn to the dance floor to investigate the scenery.
The room is large, large enough for a decent crowd that may or may not like their music coming from the sounds of what they are listening too now. The DJ both is the perfect size for their band to play on, so they at least didn't have to worry about space.
"What do you think the price will be?" Kyo asks, his little frame leans over to Kaoru so that the guitarist can hear him over the music and crowd.
Kaoru shrugs. Shinya looks up at the large window that stares down at them and shivers. He knows someone is watching them right now. Could it be Heero? Dye? One of the other men or women of the room? Are they judging them?"
He isn't sure, but what he knows is, Heero made him feel something when he was in there. It was most likely fear, Shinya thinks, but something told him otherwise. He'll always remember those black eyes staring at him, and how they made his heart jump.