CHAPTER XV

…

After my meeting with the Chief Inspector of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, I was apprehensive. What now? What's my next move? How do I make sure that he does not jump the gun on me first? Nothing else mattered as much as the dilemma I have currently in my hands. I only get this uptight and alert on very rare occasions, and during those kinds of time, I have to put everything I've got into it - mind, will and determination. Fear is a powerful motivator. You'll be surprised at what humans can achieve if they know that their lives are on the line. I was impatient, nervous but above all dead serious. Because if I make one little mistake, it's all over.

The bad guys have to get lucky every time. But the good guys only have to get lucky once.

But of course, one shouldn't rely on luck, for she is an unfaithful benefactor. I've got to start organizing my own crew now, and I'll ask Manny to help me out on that. I'll become indebted to him, which I don't want, so perhaps a deal can be agreed upon. And Hanzo would also be very important in my plan. But right now, Zaimokuza and Matsudo are the ones who will carry out the most decisive phase in this scheme. Like a jigsaw puzzle, the scheme is starting to come together inside my head. And in a way, all this is like one big chess match. The goal now is to develop my pieces and get them into the positions where they can exercise their full capabilities. The bishop pair - Zaimokuza and Matsudo. Send those two to gather information, keep an eye on the actions of the police and rival gangs and prepare countermeasures. I can already see how it would be crucial to have the 'pawns' ready to carry out the dirty work in the following phases.

Now I'm over thinking again. I need to be alone so I can concentrate. People are a distraction to me, no exceptions. And the roaring and whirring of passing cars and trucks on the avenue only worsened my mental state. Walking helps a lot to clear up my head. Running is even better, and if I just tire myself out until I'm at the point of collapse, my mind reaches clairvoyance. Just flush out the adrenaline and oxygen from your system so your brain finally comes to its senses and calms down.

And while engrossed in my inner monologues, I walked down the streets at a brisk pace. I got off the train so I could walk the rest of the way and hopefully compose myself. I must have a very serious face on, because people were keeping clear of my path as I made my way through the city. Or maybe I just looked like a creep with a malicious look. I didn't care.

I took a turn at a street corner and by luck, I bumped into a familiar-looking woman with blonde hair. I was stunned for a moment because she was pretty good-looking, until she took off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of menacing emerald green eyes. I gasped sharply out of shock, then my blood ran cold again. Miura grabbed me by the collars of my coat, and I instinctively flinched.

She softly says to me, "you know, I've been thinking about you for the entire week…"

I couldn't look her straight in the eyes. I let out a naive laugh. "That's quite flattering of you," I say.

She said it in a soft, quiet tone while smiling. I know those were very dangerous words, and if I translate them, it means "you are so dead." But- but it's Sunday! Is she going to kill me right here and then? At least do it on Monday, which is the day I'd want to die the most! I can't believe I forgot about her again. But can you blame me? I mean, I just met the inspector who is investigating on a gun robbery that happens to have me involved as a prime suspect-

I caught her fist which was flying towards my face with both hands. Holy crap, she's really going to kill me… I know what to do - twist her arm downwards and grab the other one to stop her from attacking any further. But Miura must've seen my intention from a mile away, because I felt something jab into my abdomen and knock the wind out of me. She… she punched me in my stomach! It didn't hurt as much as it stunned me, but I couldn't breathe. For some reason, I started to laugh in between gasps of air. This is ridiculous.

Right there in the street corner, Miura was yelling at me. People are glancing at us, and I'm getting embarrassed and anxious. Where does she get that level of aplomb and boldness, being able to harass people anywhere at any time? It was scary. She's frustrated that I wasn't answering her on the phone or even meeting her on Wednesday, which was our special day. Now why is she nagging me like she's my wife or something? The thought of it made me blush.

Miura was fuming. "What's wrong with you, eh? I'm texting you, and you don't answer. And you didn't show up when I asked you to. What have you been up to that you're too busy to spend any time with me?"

Oh, you have no idea! And Miura probably wouldn't believe me if I told her. Or worse, she might turn me in. Remember, her uncle is the District Attorney, so this is playing with fire.

"Can you please keep it down?" I say to her, righting myself up and rubbing my stomach. "Stop nagging me. You sound like my girlfriend."

Her cheeks reddened a bit, and she gave me her iconic disgusted reaction. "Then you must also be fooling around like this, and that's why she dumped you," she scoffed at me.

"No… no, that's not it," I started, but I found myself stuttering. I sigh and run a hand across my forehead. "You know what… look, I'm sorry. You're right. I've been fooling around, and I'm sorry for ignoring you. I should learn to manage my time and be more responsible next time. I've been ignorant and careless, and I know that I should've not forgotten about my friend- "

Miura put up a finger in front of me, pouting. "Okay, fine. Shut up, whatever. Geez, you didn't have to go through all that bullshit song and dance."

My eyes widened for a moment. It actually worked! Now you see, when dealing with a woman it is better to just put down the flag and let her pass. Arguing with a woman is like challenging Ben Shapiro to a debate, and you will not win. You could, but the chances are so small it's easier to just appeal to their ego and let them have it their way. Make yourself appear weak, so that they think they've won - lessons from Sun Tzu himself.

I glanced at my watch. It was 12:09pm and as if on cue, my stomach reminded me with a slight grumble that I should eat lunch. I wholeheartedly agree. Some hot food will do me good. I look at the Miura beside me. "Hey, you wanna grab lunch? If you haven't eaten anything yet, that is. It's on me," I say.

This prompts her to blush again and look at me in surprise. I'd like to think that she'd smile in agreement, if she wasn't too embarrassed. I was also anxious. "Y-Yeah… sure," she answers.

So we keep walking, and I look for potential places to dine in. I was hoping she'd point out where she wanted to go, but Miura stays silent. This isn't a date, is it? She's sort of acting polite right now, which was unusual.

Eventually I picked an Italian restaurant at the end of Hasuike street. It happened to be owned by a member of our crew, Nakano Suduko. After serving eighteen years behind bars, he decided that his passion was in culinary arts, and I'm not going to judge. I know he's a pretty good cook, and his recipe for the olive oil tomato sauce is always right. Though I detest tomatoes and their appalling jelly-like innards, I cannot deny that they taste good when dried and seasoned.

It was great. Miura and I were having a nice conversation which I actually began to appreciate. There's a saying that opposites attract. That might be true, but then what about the saying "birds of the same feather flock together?" You see, misery likes company. I'm thinking maybe it's because there's something wrong with both of us, and hanging around other people without the same problems isn't comfortable. I prefer being alone because that is when I am at my best, while Miura is an extrovert. She always needs someone listening to her talk and interacting with her, because that's how she keeps satisfied.

I guess I don't mind following her around, as long as I'm at peace and she's not wanting to punch me out of the blue. I simply put my body into autopilot mode and then think about more important stuff, though she gets annoyed when I'm not listening. When I'm around her, I feel like I can relax if only for a bit, and I don't have to keep up the dead serious mannerism I take to work. Now, half of my mind was reminding me that there were more urgent and important matters to deal with, while the other, more ignorant half was telling me to chill.

Anyways, I assured myself that an hour of my time devoted to a new friend of mine wouldn't hurt. I was wondering why Miura visits the city so often, if she lives in Yotsukaido. Of course, she told me it was because she simply just wants to stroll in the malls, go shopping, try out new clothes, the usual riajuu activities. Yotsukaido city is considered a "bedroom community," which means most people who live there have jobs and business somewhere else, usually in Chiba city. The train ride from there to here only takes twenty minutes, so people get around easily.

I found out some things about Miura that really surprised me. She tells me about her fine blonde hair which she always seemed to be very proud of. It was not as bright as before, but it did look just as beautiful. She says that it's her natural hair color. She inherited it from her mother, who was of British descent. Her mother had passed away when Miura was young. I felt ashamed, poking into her family life, which was none of my business. I was curious, and that is not good. She noticed, and merely smiled sheepishly. "No, no. Don't be. We're friends right? So it's okay," she says.

I nod, acknowledging her statement. Then she told me that she has a part-time job as a hairdresser at a salon here in the city. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, because that seems to be one of her specialties. "I thought you said you were fired from your last job?" I say, remembering something she said during our first meeting.

"Yeah, I was. But I got a new one now," she says.

"What job was that last one?"

"Ah, forget it." She seems to ponder whether to say or not. Maybe it's something important or big. Then she tells me, "actually it's… it's waitering at a maid café." I gasped in disbelief, staring at her and then laughed. "Oh stop it, you!" She cries, turning red.

"But why?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"I mean, why be a waitress, out of all the things you could do?"

"Well- I..." her eyes darted around, as she thought of what to answer. Then she moaned, "oh my god. We're not continuing with this line of questioning. It's depressing the shit out of me."

Miura then asks me about my part time job. Specifically, she asks where is the bar I worked in, but I was very nervous to answer that question. I don't want her to go there and see me. Nakano-san is already watching me from behind the counter, his face hidden behind a newspaper he pretends to read. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before everyone in Sakaecho rumors that I've got myself a fiancée or some other convoluted ideas as to why I have a girl with me. Is it really that strange for me to be with the opposite sex while not involving a sexual implication?

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be drinking alcohol," I say.

"Hey, I'm not a girl anymore. I can do whatever I want," she looks at me indignantly.

"Yeah sure, go ahead," I roll my eyes. "The last time you did that, I had to take care of you - twice." Now she's red as a tomato. She tells me to shut up and I snicker at her mischievously. But then we start to laugh, thinking about how silly that was.

Soon we were walking beside each other again. This time, she's taking the lead and I gladly followed. It's like when I accompany Komachi to buy groceries or to the mall, where we'd play a game in the arcade or get ice cream. It's only 1:45pm so it hasn't been an hour since we started hanging out. I think Miura is trying to look cool - she's got that chic style with the sunglasses, blouse and ripped jeans. A sharp contrast to me, who's wearing a black two-piece suit which isn't really that impressive. Remember, I had to look sharp in front of important people. Now, I took my coat off. Miura said that if I held my coat hanging over my shoulder I sort of looked like a "cool-looking bloke". She's just going in and out of boutiques and shops that catches her fancy, while I just stand back. I'm contemplating my life, and why I'm watching her at all. When she notices I'm blankly staring at her, she tells me to stop staring.

The weather wasn't so bad, but the sky was still cloudy and might rain soon. My mind was starting to fly off to other things, and I instinctively trailed Miura like a drone. I didn't notice we were in Fujimi district. People were all wearing coats, but it's not that cold in October, is it? Miura didn't like how I was just silently following her. She said it was embarrassing. It was also getting boring. So we both agreed to "play with some culture and sophistication," and decided to play squash (you know, a sport that apparently "only the bourgeoisie enjoys.")

We entered a huge, indoor court where on the far left, there were some volleyball players practicing. In the middle, there were two guys having a fierce badminton match. We went over to the right side. Neither of us had any experience with playing squash, but we were both pretty good in tennis - Miura even more so, as she was in the sports varsity back in High school. Now that I remember, we both used to play against each other occasionally, and I held out well enough against her. I was at least confident that I could draw, if not win against her.

Miura wanted to make a bet. "What bet?" I ask.

"Whoever loses must buy the drinks tonight," she says excitedly.

"Oh no, I don't want to drink anything with you… ever," I exclaim.

"Hmph… then the loser has to grant the winner one wish."

It's just like that battle royale we had in the service club! Now, why did I think of that? But it was a nice memory in any case. If I'm going to play, I may as well agree to her bet. Maybe it'll make the game more fun, that's what people say. "Okay. But don't regret it. It can be anything," I warn her. She just rolls her eyes and calls me a creep. Oh, come on…

She's overconfident in her abilities, I can see that. But she doesn't know what's coming for her… the racket felt slightly heavier in my hand, and I thought it's a good thing. Miura is faster than me, and I'm not as good as her. But I know that in squash, the ball flies faster, and the game is more intense, so I plan to move closer to the middle, where I can try to score as fast as possible. She bounces the ball on her racket. An imaginary whistle blows in my head. And soon, the game begins…

BAM! BAM! BAM! (No, that wasn't the sound of me getting beat up.)

Game over. The result? Of course… I won! I can win against her in something, finally! I felt a wave of happiness wash over me - or was it a wave of malicious joy, rather? I thrust my clenched fist upwards in triumph, while from the other side, she was glowering. She's red with frustration. Now, she owes me a wish… but this is where the problem starts. You see, Miura Yumiko isn't just going to accept defeat like that. She must be angry. It's at this point that she starts concocting up some wicked plan to get back at me.

Out of the blue, she wanted to do kendo. But isn't kendo a tough sport? It's hard on your shoulders and back. It's not as simple as swinging away at your enemies with the sword. When I was a kid, I used to play sword-fighting with other kids using bamboo sticks. I'm proud to say that I kicked ass with my bamboo stick. I was the king of the hill! The king of the hill has to fight against everyone else, and I bravely fought every kid on the block, double wielding against six. A good lot of the kids on the block have a scar of some sort on their knuckles, which is where I struck to "disable" them. See, I'm not some maniac who goes for the head… but that's also why kids started avoiding me at the playground. King of the hill no more.

There's no way she knew how to do kendo… and even if she does, how good can she be? She can't possibly be better than me, right? Sometimes on TV, a martial artist comes out and demonstrates fancy martial arts moves. You won't believe me… but I'm also a martial artist with a degree in six arts: Judo, Aikido, Taekwondo, Kung Fu, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and of course, Kendo! (Because 1st degree+0+0+0+0+0=1 right?)

The reason why I'm rambling about this is because I want to prove to everyone that it's not because I'm physically weak that Miura always beats the crap out of me. I can demonstrate dominance as well. You don't believe me? Well… you're right…

I'm still drunk with victory, so I say 'screw it' and start preparing myself. I am confident once more. We head to an open kendo dojo not far from the court we came from, and we're soon inside. What's this? People inside the dojo started looking at us - well, at Miura. They said hello to her. "Hey, long time no see," a guy who looked like a veteran bowed at her. From here, I started to get cold sweat. Soon, I was back to my old, cowardly self again.

"It's too hot to play kendo… let's just go swimming or something," I weakly laugh. She looks at me like I'm talking nonsense, and I probably am. Too hot? Heck, it was windy outside! "I… I think I have stomach cramps from when you punched me," I try again desperately.

Miura squinted at me incredulously, and I could see in her eyes that she was looking forward to beating me. Literally.

I found myself clad in black protective equipment that I didn't even know the names of. I actually felt a bit more safe. At least my head is encased in a closed, hardened plastic helmet. If I still had my chuunibyou delusions, I might have the courage to fight my demons once and for all… that demon being Miura… whatever. These pads ought to be sturdy enough. Let's just get this over with. Honor or death!

Everyone in the dojo stopped what they were doing and began to watch us. Not the fight, but me… they had the look that ancient Romans have during when they watched a gladiator fight. Sadistic excitement. We both have bamboo swords that surprisingly looked real. Or was I imagining things? We were three meters away from each other. Pin drop silence. I begin to sweat inside my helmet. I can't see shit! It's like I'm looking through a sieve! She's approaching menacingly, and I stare at her wide eyed, trying to predict where her strike will come.

They say that the trick is to focus on the sword of the enemy. I see the tip of her sword rise, and then… BAM! She went straight for my head! Did I get hit? No way! I parried her blow beautifully. It was awesome. But if I'd gotten hit, it probably would've killed me. I started calling timeout, but she couldn't hear me - or she's not listening. "Wait! Hey! This isn't how you do it in- in the movies!" I shout, feeling stupid. I know that sword-fights were supposed to go like head-head-waist-leg, with the clever back and forth quips and "en garde!" But of course, real life ain't a movie. I wish I hadn't agreed to do this.

I feel sudden pain at my side, then a stunning blow on the top of my head. The helmet did its job, but I felt like a pinata that was getting mutilated… I could see stars and that checkerboard pattern in my blurry vision. I don't know what happened. It hasn't been a minute since the fight started. I'm staring at the ceiling, motionless. Yes… I pretended to be dead. Survival instincts 101. She can't hurt me if I look like I'm already done for.

In any case, I had still won the squash match, so she still owes me a wish. But she also has her own wish now… that's not right! Now, what should I tell her? How about if I tie her up on a tree and beat her (just this once?) After today, I'd get nervous if she so much as picks up a wooden chopstick… who knows? She might complain that her food sucks and send her chopstick flying like a throwing knife to the cook or something. Apparently, Miura took up Kendo after she had been kicked out of the sports varsity due to "behaviour issues."

A girl with a Kendo degree… is scary as hell.