CHAPTER XI
…
…
The First Class students were untouchable. Most of them began to arrive at this realization way before they entered the Lyceum. After all, why wouldn't they be? These students hailed from prominent high-society families; who sent them to pursue their careers and acquire an accredited diploma of the highest standard. Whether these students behaved accordingly was another matter. It was not a surprise that they regularly got away with offenses which would have landed ordinary students in disciplinary probation or worse.
This appearance and presumption of invincibility more often than not led these people to commit ill acts against those they considered beneath them. Such was the case with what occurred that Thursday night. Ryuuen divulged the story to Hachiman: that one of their classmates, Mei-Yu Wang became the victim of physical assault by three First Class students.
It began as just another mundane invitation to a college club party, no more extraordinary from the countless occasions in the life of a student. Mei-Yu Wang was invited to Shibuya by a friend of hers. She had always been the studious and diligent kind but even then she was not one to back out of a social gathering. What she did not anticipate was the presence of three ill-mannered students, who also happened to be in the same school and year as her. At first she was unaware of their intentions. They courted her into drinking with them, trying to get her agreeable with highballs, and then they tried to take advantage of her. They came on strongly and she refused them twice. This was a defiant jab at their fragile egos. The three young men did not understand this and that was when they lost patience. And so that night, they set upon her.
They followed Mei-Yu Wang after the party, singled her out from the others and pulled her aside. The confrontation escalated into physical violence. Because she refused to give up her dignity to these rich, stubborn men, they slapped her around; "like a whore," they said. Then they left her beaten down in the back alley of the nightclub in Shibuya with no money and a broken phone. Mei-Yu Wang had no choice but to go back to her father, a man named Mr. Gio. She went to his apartment that night, though alarming Mr. Gio was the last thing she wished for. That was why she did not go to school the next day. Her face was all puffed up and bruised; her lips bled and no amount of covering up could possibly conceal the damage that had been done. But it did not hurt so much as it was humiliating.
Mr. Gio wept for his daughter. His heart brimmed with rage and thoughts of vengeance rocked his core, but alas; where could he go to? He knew all too well that the Japanese courts were useless, incompetent. He knew that given the power the families of these young men possess, the only verdict the court could give would be prejudiced - a one year sentence to the penitentiary, watered down by a guaranteed parole within three months; and on top of all that, the sentence would be suspended. It was no justice at all. Only a severe disgrace awaited them dare they raise their voices against these higher people. They could have done worse to his daughter - they might have already for all he knew. And how can he prove that those bastards sexually molested his daughter? His own daughter refused to speak of that night to him, and it seemed to Mr. Gio that it was hopeless.
Hachiman did not go with the group that evening. Instead, he decided to set out on his own.
He had learned from Ryuuen that this Mr. Gio ran a flower shop in the city, and so he took a cab to visit it. The flower shop was near the Ritz-Carlton, a short way up town. The Ritz-Carlton was where Americans checked in when they arrived in Tokyo. Hachiman had been to the hotel once, as it was a drop-off point from the airport and where elements of his organized regime also controlled some business.
Once the cab pulled up to the side of the avenue, Hachiman stepped onto the sidewalk. Dusk was already settling, turning the sky a sharp hue of orange. This side of the city was only a little less dense and noisy. Hachiman walked down the curb slowly, looking around; he gazed up at the massive façade of the Ritz-Carlton hotel, then turned back towards the flower shop nearby. He stopped in front of the storefront, only to realize the florist was not there.
Hachiman reached into his overcoat and lit himself a cigarette. There was a closed sign behind the glass door. As he puffed away, he surveyed the flowers on display outside, lined up on a neat iron rack. He stooped down a bit to take a close look at the bouquets of purple flowers - violets, he guessed. They bloomed with such a dark and rich color that it made the violets back in Chiba look plastic in comparison. He could not read the label on the stalk however, as it was in Mandarin.
Hachiman stood and turned around. A ferret-faced old man wearing a khaki polo shirt was in front of him, whom he recognized as none other than Mr. Gio. The man eyed Hachiman with obvious irritation. "Move aside, boy. You'll kill the plants with that smoke of yours," Mr. Gio said.
Hachiman obeyed at once. He stepped aside and the gray-haired Mr. Gio pushed open the storefront door. Not a short while later he stepped out with a folding chair and sat himself down beside the entrance. Mr. Gio took one swig from a bottle of shochu and demanded, "well? Are you going to buy the plants or are you waiting for new year?"
"How much do those orchids cost, jii-san?"
"They're not orchids. They're violets- I tell you not to throw yer smoke here!" Mr. Gio stopped. He set down his bottle. He produced now from his trouser pockets a short roll of Cuban cigar. He held it between his shriveled lips and struck a match; the matchstick roared at the frayed end of the cigar and in no time the old man too was puffing away.
Hachiman was now bemused. He said, "but you just lit a cigar."
"Oh but that's another story, boy."
"I'd wager it's about the same," Hachiman said quietly.
"I've got good reason to. You don't. That's the difference. You're young, boy." Mr. Gio asked, "where are you from?"
"Chiba."
"Huh. Well, the violets are 1,000 yen a dozen."
Hachiman put down his cigarette and folded his arms. He remained still for a while, looking over the flowers. He said, "I don't have enough money right now. But I'd like to buy several next time."
The old man waved him off dismissively. Hachiman then left, retracing his path back up the street from where he had come. He stopped and pulled his hat a bit just as he was about to re-enter his cab. He was very silent, glaring at the sky in meditation. He took out a cellphone from his pocket and punched in a contact. As he opened the door and got into the car, the call connected, and at that moment when he spoke into the line he devised his order.
…
"Do you have friends, Mr. Sieyes?"
Hachiman asked Albert quietly. They came that Saturday for a game of basketball down at the court in the neighborhood, not far from the campus. The two of them stood aside, resting a bit while they watched Ryuuen, Daichi, Ken Sudo and Mio Ibuki tire themselves trying to score. Hachiman now felt as if he actually fit in a group once more in a long time.
"Yeah," Albert answered.
"Do you really consider them so?"
"Well I do not see why not, sir."
Hachiman hummed thoughtfully. "If that's right, then to what extent are you willing to go for your friends? Suppose that they're under threat from someone else. Would you step in for them?"
"Wouldn't you do the same, sir?"
"Well, that's right."
"If a friend of mine needs my help, then I'll come help. Even if someone isn't a friend, I think I'd go help them as much as I can."
"That's quite a reach. Why?" Hachiman asked. "If they're not your friends, much less a relative, why should you go out of your way and risk yourself for their sake?"
"It's just the right thing to do."
"I know it is. But it's a little presumptuous, isn't it? Perhaps I'm overthinking, forget about it."
"Well, Hikigaya-san. You have friends eh?"
"Of course."
"I figure when you go and help someone, that's how you make friends. That's good."
Hachiman asked, "Albert, would you consider our classmate, Mei-Yu, a friend?"
"Huh?"
"You've heard the story. She's been set upon by a couple of fucking punks from the upper classes. Right now, would you give her justice?"
"Hell I'd do it! You think it sits right with me what those sons of bitches did to Mei-chan? I'd be out for her," Albert said now more softly. "But Hikigaya-san… how would you go about it? Those guys are from rich families. It's not anymore easy to just corner 'em and beat 'em."
"So there's the difference I'm talking about. How much trouble you'd risk for a person only depends on the level of intimacy between you and her. If she were family, it'd be a whole different ballpark, wouldn't it?"
Albert nodded. "I want to help Mei-chan. But there's not a lot of choices here for us."
Hachiman said after a while, "Has Mikaeru ever taken you along to business matters before?"
Albert shook his head.
"No? Well, there's a first time for everything." Before he turned to leave, Hachiman said, "meet me later at the cabstand on the way to the school."
It was Michael Sieyes who pushed the hesitant Albert into going upon catching Hachiman's drift. They took a cab up to Shibuya that night. It was late - a quarter before eleven PM. Albert asks where they were going but Hachiman tells him to pay quiet attention. They drove down Roppongi-dori avenue, passing by countless buildings covered in billboards and neon signs, then cut a right into a narrow street.
Hachiman and Albert went out into the streets of Shibuya. Their cab driver did not leave, remaining still and keeping the engine warm. Albert followed Hachiman without a word. Shortly they reached a street corner and across the street they could see a nightclub. Albert immediately recognized it.
Albert asked cautiously, "What are we going to do?"
Hachiman remained impassive. He leaned against a wall and popped a cigarette into his mouth. "Observe."
They continue to watch the scene. They wait for a few minutes before they spot a group of three young men exit the nightclub and raucously walk down the front steps of the joint. Unnoticed yet to them was a parked sedan waiting for them to fall into the set up. It was Kenji Isshiki, one of the more sinister underbosses in the Chiba Outfit mob who was waiting in the dark.
Kenji Isshiki was told everything he needed to know about the three punks. Their names were Hideki Housen, Naomi Koenji and Tamayo Maru. They were all about the same age, at twenty one years old, were good-looking, tall, athletic young men. They were members of the sports varsity in the Minato Lyceum. Naomi Koenji, the blonde-headed frat was the brother of Rokusuke Koenji, another son of a politician. They continued with impunity even after assaulting Mei-Yu Wang, the daughter of Mr. Gio no more than two nights ago. An orange Maserati Quattroporte was parked on the curb across from the nightclub. Raising hell and chasing call girls. The sons of bitches, Kenji thought.
It was Hikigaya Hachiman, the kid he knew from the Grandeur bar turned top boss, who had filled him in and ordered that this job be done crucially - it had to be done tonight, not a day later. Now he was not one to be ordered around like a gun-for-hire, but Hachiman had called in a favor Kenji owed him. Hachiman was younger than both him and Hanzo. It was unbelievable that he had taken over the operations in Tokyo. But now he didn't particularly mind the assignment. Even if the three punks walked out with tarts along them, he had no qualms taking them out in front of witnesses.
Kenji leaned against the side of his car, sipping his beer, watching from across the street. In the backseat, two heavy-set men sat, dark and motionless. Hachiman had given him clear instructions: no blows to the back of the head, no accidental fatalities. He suggested breaking each of the three student's limbs and ribs. It was meticulously planned - it would keep the three out of the entire sports competition this year. The only caveat was that if the punks get out of the hospital within a month, the two strong-arms are to be punished. Kenji let the two men know this, and so they were highly motivated on accomplishing the job.
He overheard the brown-haired curly one - First Class student Tamayo Maru - the one he supposed was the leader cursing and saying, "forget those cunts. Bunch of no good whores anyway. The sweet faced one would'a been great if she didn't play hard about it!" as he and his friends exited the bar. The other two concurred, still gloating spitefully over the Fourth Class girl from the other night. Kenji slipped his empty beer bottle in his back pocket.
The three punks were now pissed. As they stepped off the curb, one of them threw a beer cup onto the windshield of a parked car. Kenji pulled over his cap and ran his tongue along his crooked teeth. He remarked with a smirk, "hey curly, those chicks really passed you on, no? You musta came on like flower boys."
They turned their heads towards him and grinned carnivorously. Kenji Isshiki looked like the perfect target for them to vent the anger boiling in their blood. The man was hard-nosed, wiry, with dirty hair under his cap and dressed in the blue jumpsuit of city linemen. A scrub of the blue-collar variety. The three made a beeline, like sharks onto prey. Before they reached Kenji, Hideki and Naomi found their arms seized by two men behind them. Tamayo Maru turned back and before he could react, Kenji swung his beer bottle across Maru's face. The bottle cracked in half and caught Maru's jaw square in one blow, dislocating it.
Hachiman and Albert stand observantly from across the street, watching from the sidelines. Albert inwardly broke cold sweat, but did not react. He watched as a brutal one-sided beatdown ensued. Throughout, Hachiman remained emotionless, watching the scene with the same interest he had towards mundane television sets.
He stops briefly to glance at Albert. "Cigarette?" Hachiman offers him a half-burnt smoke.
Albert takes it. He coughed roughly.
"Not a smoker huh."
"Apparently not sir."
"Well, it's kind of like a merry-go-round. Not for everyone."
"The cigarette tastes stale, sir. I think it is tampered," Albert said, changing the subject.
"So you have taste," Hachiman was amazed. "Spot on, you can tell it's a bootleg. My apologies. I'm outed as a cheapskate."
Albert did not dare ask any more questions. Little by little he began to piece together the series of events and it dawned on him the true dark nature of his classmate. Hachiman said, "I brought you with me because I figured it'd be in your best interest to learn what kind of business your cousin, Mikaeru is in. Well, this is now a matter between you two."
"I understand, sir."
"But perhaps more importantly, I suppose I wanted you to see this here for yourself." Hachiman went on. "You'd do the same for your family, won't you? Should anyone ever lay a hand on your brother or sister, you'd be ready to break the law to exact justice. You'd think this isn't justice - well, then I can't argue. Not every system is flawless. But again, you'd do the same, won't you Mr. Sieyes?"
"I suppose so."
"Justice is whatever satisfies the people." Hachiman spoke morosely. "That girl, Mei-Yu Wang, doesn't have a lot of family left it seems. I saw her father Mr. Gio yesterday, an old man. Her mother is dead. They're not from here, Albert. I figure you'd understand their circumstances, since you don't seem to fit in Japan neither. That's how come those bastards singled her out - She's got no fight. That's how it is."
"And so you stepped in."
"Don't get me wrong, this whole fiasco will bring up too much heat. This was against my better judgement. I gain nothing from helping helpless people. Especially they're not even relatives of mine. Then again she's our classmate, and by association, a friend of a friend."
"You've helped Mei-chan greatly, sir. That makes her a friend, doesn't it?"
Hachiman did not answer. "A friend is a liability. But," he paused momentarily, "It is what it is."
"I'd likely do the same, sir. Not every system is flawless I figured. I don't know how better things would've been if Mei-chan had gone to the courts. It is what it is," Albert trailed off. Still, he could not completely suppress the rising apprehension in his guts.
Now the two boys Hideki and Naomi were trying to scream, and Kenji was getting worked up. He slipped a steel knuckle onto his right hand and jabbed the first one in the stomach, silencing him. The strong-arm who was holding Hideki quickly let go and they turned on Naomi. The three wiseguys started to work with frightening deliberation, as if they had all the time in the world. Kenji began to punch Hideki in timed, heavy beats, breaking each of his ribs in with an audible snap beneath the flesh. The other two men were beating Naomi into pulp, and the sparse street was filled with agonizing screams and the blood-curdling sound of bones breaking. Now witnesses were stepping outside and staring out the windows of surrounding buildings, instantly frozen at the sight. The three wiseguys started to work faster now.
Tamayo Maru, still stunned, tried to make a run for it, straggling desperately on hands and legs but Kenji grabbed him by the foot. He twisted his limb and kicked it. There was a snapping sound and a piercing cry that rolled all the way down the street. Kenji finally turned over the beaten kid to break a few more ribs. They were heaving now and shaking with adrenaline. Kenji Isshiki snarled, "enough. Get in the car."
Albert did not look away, his face drawn tight with a solemn kind of resistance, as if coming to terms with the grand way of things in his world. Hachiman spoke. "Mr. Sieyes, so I've been told this before, the clever people run this world. The intelligent. Not the fools. Don't forget. There comes a time when we turn to a higher power for salvation. Sometimes it takes more than friends or family. You need to learn who to fight with." Hachiman spun around and walked. "Come now, we should head off." They did not bother to see what remained as the mobsters left the bloodied bodies on the street. Albert merely heard the sound of a sedan roaring into life and gunning away.
The two strong-arms jumped into the backseat and Kenji floored the gas, all the way down until they disappeared into the avenue. Witnesses would report the car and describe the number plate but it didn't matter; it was a phony Chiba plate and there were thousands of gray Toyota Sprinters in Tokyo City.
…
News of the turn of events were slow to circulate the next Sunday morning, but by Monday the Lyceum campus was rife with heated rumors. That the murder of three First Class students occurred. That it was likely perpetrated by students from the same campus, likely by the notorious Juniors of the Lyceum. All grossly exaggerated of course, but it was not far from the truth.
The group sat again at the bleachers under the shade of a canopy. This time, Miura Yumiko joined them, and even she had not missed the gossip. Daichi Ishizaki told them noisily, "It's all over the place. Have you heard? Two Second Class students and one guy from First Class got jumped last Saturday night."
Ken Sudo said, "They nearly killed those three students. What kind of maniac would do that?"
Mio Ibuki shrugged. She snorted flippantly, "Well, seeing what they've done to poor Mei-chan, those guys got what they fuckin' deserved."
Ryuuen was nonchalant. He simply said, "That'll teach them not to mess with our class."
"Oi Ryuuen, what'd you do? Did you really go and beat the shit out of those punks?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," Ibuki quipped. "Maybe Ryuuen-kun went nuts and..."
Ryuuen snorted, then a smirk crept onto his lips. "Shut up."
"Still," Mio Ibuki said. "Why would somebody go that far? Anyone with the guts to attack the sons of rich families must be mad, or..."
She was cut short by the arrival of two other figures. Hikigaya Hachiman and Albert Yamada Sieyes walked up to them, late by a couple of minutes. The circle was suddenly silent.
Yumiko spoke first. "Hachiman, where have you been?"
"I was looking if there were still any Max coffee in the vending machines in the cafeteria. No luck," Hachiman answered. He glanced round at them. "Say, what's up with today? Everyone seems to be tightly wound up. They're looking at us Fourth-class students like we've grown second heads or something."
"They think a student from this school was the one who started that violent fight last Saturday. You hear?" Ryuuen spoke up. "They think it was us."
Yumiko hummed poignantly. She furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't think so. It couldn't have been a student at all. Did ya see the video shared on LINE last night, guys? The main thug who was beating Maru-san was wearing a blue jumpsuit. I'd wager that's an electrician. The two other men had work shoes on. It couldn't have been a student," she repeated coolly.
Ryuuen was skeptical. "Yeah? You're so sure?"
Yumiko smirked. She finished her juicebox and crossed her arms. "If it were a student, it's only a matter of time before they get caught. Besides, what do they have to gain from beating the shit out of three rich brats? It's nothing short of blunderous. Maybe it was a spat with a gang from another campus, but that's unlikely given the evidence we already have."
Hachiman had been listening well. He spoke up thoughtfully. "That's a very sharp analysis, Miura-san," he smiled at her. "Did you figure it out just now?"
"Well I mean, it kinda surfaced with me once I looked into it," she said.
Ryuuen remarked jokingly, "seems like we have a future cop with us."
Hachiman agreed. "Color me surprised!"
"Alright, guys. Don't mind if I steal him away now," Yumiko said, puffing her cheeks. She pulled Hachiman along with her, a sight that no longer surprised the rest of them. It was a half-day, and so they made their way back to the classrooms to get their bags and go home to their apartment. As they walked, they spoke about what had happened.
"Y'know Hachiman, I overheard my classmates talking this morning. I'm not kidding when I tell you that they actually believe your class was behind the fight that Saturday. I don't believe it's the truth, but it's crazy, isn't it? That guy, Ryuuen-san, seems sketchy to me."
"I'm not surprised."
"You have any idea who could've done it, Hachi?"
"It's easy to suspect our class was behind it," Hachiman began quietly. "Somebody has a motive for revenge. Then again, you said it yourself, it's unlikely a student could've done it. It's no cakewalk getting away with violent acts."
"You seen the video?" Yumiko asked, sounding almost excited. "I tell you, it's insane. Maru-san got hospitalized along with his two chums. First time I saw it I shivered. The fucking kids were like, a bloody mess. I bet it's going to get shared onto LiveLeak and then nobody will forget about it."
"Pipe down, Yumiko," Hachiman scolded her. He sighed. "It's no joke."
Yumiko quietly thought for a bit. "There really are some vicious people out there," she said. "Some people just can't be reasoned with."
"On the bright side, there's three less drunk assholes in the world." Hachiman sighed, pleased. "I'm starting to realize that in dealing with people, head-bashing might just be the best strategy. Sometimes you've got to splatter their brains on the pavement."
Yumiko scoffed in disbelief. "That's a bit harsh, isn't it? You'd be no better than the rest of them. And besides, those three guys, they're morons. But it's a bit of an overkill to go that far, no?" She added.
"Right. We've lost three drunk morons in the world. How can I ever cope with this?" Hachiman remarked, mimicking a grief-stricken expression. He chuckled. "So what's the alternative to that? Have these guys pay a rich sum for suspended sentences and practically get off scot-free? You know, our justice system kind of doesn't live up to its name."
"I just think there's a better way to justify things. There's got to be."
"Well, that's where we have conflicting opinions, Yumiko."
Yumiko pursed her lips. She said now more quietly, "is there a grand point to hurting people and calling it justice?"
Hachiman shrugged. He looked over at her with tired, but softened dark eyes. "Yumiko, people don't care about grand points. All they really want is vengeance. That's why justice is whatever satisfies the people."
.
.