CHAPTER XVII

/play DeBarge - I Like It

…

As soon as I earn enough money for myself and for my family, I am going to quit this life - the life of schemes, rackets, and crime.

But that's what everyone else says. What is 'enough?' The problem is that when it comes to money, enough is never enough. Ninety-nine percent of people fall for the trap of "just enough." They work just enough not to get fired, and just enough to make a living. In fact, most people live just enough not to die. I was born to two working-class corporate slaves, and for the most part of my life it seemed I was going to grow up into one. Now, I'm different. I'm not saying I'm any better than the rest of them. But for me and my 'second' family and acquaintances, the world seemed closer to our grasp, and even more to our reach. I was beginning to learn. I learned how to exploit the system instead of being exploited. From prey to predator. Life, no matter how advanced and civilized, always goes back to the fundamental principles of the food chain and "kill or be killed."

The truth is once you're in the racket, you're always in it.

I know I'll probably never be able to go back to normal life after all this, and even if I try to run, my troubles will always find me. There's a saying: "he who runs from his troubles will meet down the street." But still. As soon as I save up enough money to get me through college, pay for Komachi's tuition fees, and buy a ticket to the U.S. I'm flying out of this country. I love my country and all, but I've got to reunite with my family in Los Angeles. As they say, family stays together. Besides, there's isn't much reason for me to stay. There's a reason why parents are always trying to send their children to study abroad - it is a sad bias that overseas education trumps a degree from one's own country.

And I love the Ieyori family. I owe them a lot, and I'll probably never be able to repay the familiarity they've given me. But if I stay any longer, it would only worsen my feelings when I finally have to leave. It's not a choice between my own family and the Ieyori family. It's whether to stay or leave. As much as I appreciate the company of Hanzo, Manuel Ieyori and Mama Imoguiri, I still wouldn't give up being a Hikigaya. I know, my family hasn't got a lot of prestige or relevance to it, but I'm still proud. I have my ego too. Besides, if you aren't proud of your heritage, you're not only disrespecting your family but yourself.

My sister called me early in the morning today. Any interaction with her was welcome, and this was the third time in a month that Komachi called so it must be something important. Normally it's me who makes a video call with my laptop. She then told me distressing news. My dad was ill. He came down with a bad case of pneumonia. In any case, I was saddened and promised to send money to pay for the hospital. I wasn't sure what line of work my dad is in now. I know he wanted to set up a small restaurant in Los Angeles, but I heard it didn't go as planned. Too many competitors and not enough capital. Hopefully he doesn't put his health in danger.

Another reason for me to reunite with my family is so I can keep an eye on Komachi. She's not a little girl anymore, and she's grown into a pretty, young woman. Obviously, a lot of guys are going to try and get their filthy hands on her. Of course I cannot allow that! Those Yankees will have to go over my cold dead body before they touch my dear sister. On the other hand, I am hoping that Komachi finds someone honest and respectable. When she does, I will be very happy. Komachi and I sometimes get into arguments over the phone, because I "meddle with her love life." But what good is an older sibling if they didn't do that? Anyway, heartbreak is part of the natural cycle but if some bastard lies to her or hurts her badly, I might put a seasoned murderer to shame.

Every time after we get into a petty argument or disagreement, I ask Komachi if she's still mad at me, and to which she often replies "I've got nothing but love for ya, big brother." Sometimes it's sarcastic, and sometimes it can almost send me to tears. Komachi says it in a catchy American accent, which never fails to crack me up. I really hope to be able to speak English as well as her.

Last night, Manny and the crew went out on their 'operations' on the streets again. I was satisfied with just staying at the house, supervising our movements from a bird's eye view through the cameras Zaimokuza wired up. Zaimokuza and Matsudo were doing an excellent job at getting us the names, details, locations and timetables of everyone and everything I decided was relevant to our operations. It's surprising what a simple profile search on Facebook or a consultation of the LINE network can do. And our two computer geniuses were like bats, so we have a constant stream of valuable information night and day. We know which policemen to avoid, which gang leader to take out and what place should we strike. I'm so pleased with the progress I could crow.

Now this morning, we were making a killing with the goods we brought in on Monday. I supervised a part of the distribution and transactions around the town, while Manny was out again with business. We sold twelve truckloads in time for lunch. We didn't just sell in our district, we had customers in plenty of places. The groceries, supermarkets, convenience stores, hardware stores, bars and restaurants all purchased from us bootlegged, untaxed cigarettes, booze, razors, television sets, sound systems, furniture, carpets, a couch, a piano, imported olive oil and fruits, toasters, kettles, kitchen utensils, clothes and jewelry - you name it, we have it. We were occasionally entitled to taking one item for ourselves, and I might get myself a nice Persian carpet one of these days.

Folks purchased from us because it was cheap, and they were saving themselves a lot of money. Well, I didn't peddle the goods myself and directly to them - we'd sell the stuff to a fence, or "the middleman" who then sells it to our customers. Kenji Isshiki drove the truck with me and we made a lot of drops that morning. We'd pull up in an alley or at the back space of the establishments, then I would begin writing down our transactions while Kenji haggled the prices. Everytime the buyer handed Kenji the money, his thin moustache would twist upwards in a weird smile, like a Guy Fawkes mask. And because the supply was cheap, the stores were able to afford lowering their prices as well, which allowed us to undercut the other competitors. People would rather shop in Sakaecho than in Fujimi, because the prices were very agreeable. Little did they know, it all had a dirty little secret. And we were enjoying the fruits. This morning, we made close to three million yen, twenty percent of which I get a part of. That's already sixty thousand yen, and we haven't even finished with the rest of the load.

But all that aside, I suppose the question on top of your head is "are all these legal?" Absolutely not. But then again, there's the government and their outrageous taxes and tariffs, and so there's us - the smugglers, bootleggers and racketeers. I am just like any other man - I supply a demand. It's basic economics 101. That's all it is. Supply and demand. Hey, you think we'd still be doing this if nobody wants it? In my opinion, we're just giving people what they want - cheap, affordable goods.

So this is what I now do on Wednesdays, since my schedule radically changed. Oh, and on Thursdays I now attend lectures in Yui, Tobe and Orimoto's class. It's embarrassing. But it's also ethereal. One moment, I'm part of one of the established gangs in the underworld and the next, I'm hanging around kids my age like normal. I feel like I'm already older. That's not necessarily a good thing, and I'm not too proud of it. I still want to keep myself open-minded to the idea of youth, but it's either I'm getting more and more cynical, or I've just outgrown the whole concept.

Like I said, there's a benefit to all this. People recognize me as "one of them," and they give me special treatment. That was something I'm not too excited with, but I appreciate it nevertheless. At first, I couldn't believe how I am entitled to skip the waiting queues and go directly behind the counter to get my bread or brewed coffee, or how I could get free drinks in any of the restaurants under our protection. I tried not to abuse that privilege, and still stood in line like most people. You know, out of consciousness. It was embarrassing to look like a hotshot in front of people, who gave you an irritated look for being pompous.

Anyway, I was reminded of those privileges when I ate lunch at a restaurant we had just sold some bulk ingredients to. The food was served within a minute and they were generous with the toppings. Also, free iced tea as usual. I hardly went out to eat at places back then because I was stingy with my money, but now things were different. Afterwards, I still have a couple of things I'd want to finish before I sit down at my favourite café for an hour of peace. Our errand boy Kid Sudo is probably at the construction site by the river in Yuko district again, hosing down stacks of bricks and posing as a bricklayer. I keep telling him to stop skipping school, but alas.

There's been several strikes going on last week. Word is that the workers are unsatisfied with the pay. I was surprised when Manuel Ieyori told me that the construction unions around here are mostly employed by associates of the Yukinoshita Financial Group. The father of Yukino Yukinoshita is not just a member of the Chiba Prefectural Diet, but also the CEO of a construction company. And this particular construction project was being funded by the Yukinoshita Construction company. Recently I've been interested in these construction businesses.

Another plan was sprouting inside my head, but I can't quite figure it out yet. There was big money to be made off these construction works and unions. But it meant taking money from the company, which might make things tricky. And considering that we're talking about a company owned by the family of my girlfriend Yukino? Oh well, seems like I'll stay awake in bed again all night, scheming.

It was around four in the afternoon, and it looked like rain was about to come down pretty hard. I hurriedly walked Kid Sudo to Higashi-Chiba station and sent the boy home. Just when I got back at The Grandeur, I got a call. It was a woman on the phone, and the first question out of her mouth is, "hey… so, what do you like?"

Yes, it's my girl Miura Yumiko… okay, maybe that came out wrong, didn't it? I recognized her demanding voice. I was momentarily stunned by her question which just came out of nowhere. What is she talking about?

"Uh… women?" I haphazardly answer.

"I-Idiot! Are you fucking obtuse? I meant, what do you like to eat?" she snapped.

"Yeah, I know. Women."

I'm so sorry about this… but I just felt like I had to get that urge off my chest. It's like some childish propensity of mine. I was laughing now. I think her phone slipped from her hand, and then I heard a rapid string of curses thrown at me.

I stifled a laugh from my side. It sure is fun teasing her… after all, we're talking over the phone, so she can't punch me. Let me tell you, it's easier to laugh at death when you're not face to face with it.

When she's done yelling at me, Miura says in a lower tone of voice, "do you wanna die?"

"No, ma'am," I snicker, still grinning.

"Anyway, my dad won't be home until Saturday, so come over and I'll make you something."

"Really?" I blurt out incredulously. My ears must be hearing wrong. "You want me to come over? And you're going to make me something?"

"Y-Yes! So tell me what you want to eat already before I change my mind," she stammers.

She's…. She's actually doing something nice for me? I couldn't believe it. After all the death threats, the beatings, the passive-aggressive exchanges and rows we had… Miura Yumiko calls me over because she's going to be alone in the house for three days? What makes her think she'll be safer with me over there?

I was invited to her house… I couldn't remember the last time I went over there. I think it was to give her some papers she forgot at school, during when we partnered up for a literature class story-writing. Of course, we both didn't choose to work together, but we happened to become the odd ones out so there was no choice. The only reason why I remembered that memory is because I sincerely hated how she gave the story I practically wrote by myself a cheesy, unrealistic and stupid happy ending. Shakespeare would probably be turning in his grave if he knew…

Anyway, since I was the guest of honor to her place… I should groom myself a bit, right? I went to a public onsen to take a bath in their shower cubicles. I think I can count by my fingers the number of times in my life I had gone to an onsen. I preferred to take a bath in private. Besides, I did not need to see the naked backs of grown men every time I went in and out of the place. If you can get past that, public onsens are a pretty chill place to relax in. In any case, it was refreshing. There were hardly any people inside. Oh, and I wore my best underwear… which happened to be a boxer with a glow-in-the-dark fish pattern… I must look like a fool. But what can I do? Unless it's in the dark, the boxer looks like ordinary underwear. Oh well, it actually looks really cool when it's dark… you know, with little green fishes glowing.

After getting dressed, I arrived at Chiba station. Miura said she would come and get me when I call her, and so I decided to buy a little present beforehand… I was invited by the high queen of Soubu, after all… I usually see her with a lollipop stick poking out in between her lips, so she must like sweets. But what I don't know is that she's never patient enough for lollipops - she tries to chew it and just keep the stick until she can throw it in a bin. I got her a Coca-Cola flavoured pop. Then she arrived in a cab and we went to her house at Konakadai district.

I always thought that Miura was rich because of how she dressed and how she carried herself. It felt like this was my first time going to her place, and I could not help but stare openly. Her house was pretty big - a wide garden filled with violets in front of the house, a giant front door… and a brown Dobermann the size of a jaguar started to go crazy and bark at me! I would've climbed up the nearest tree because of that goddamn dog. Jesus, it scared the crap out of me. And it wasn't tied to a leash or something… it was growling at me and circling me like a beast homing in for the kill.

"H-Hey Miura… you mind if you keep your hound away from me?" I gasp, sweating bullets.

She just giggles like I was having a good time with a puppy. "That's strange… Chisana never barks at people, even to strangers… Are you thinking about something perverted?"

"How would a dog know what I'm thinking about?!" I cried out in disbelief. "He's just nervous because I'm new to him!"

"But he never barks when my friends are over… that's so strange…"

Smart animal. How the hell did this dog catch on? Is it really true that dogs can smell your intentions? I don't want to stick around and find out. Do you remember that scene from "Django Unchained" where a man gets torn apart by three dogs, and… Well, just in case, I covered myself with my hands. I'd rather face a pair of scissors… if Miura ever has a male friend who wants to get castrated, her pet Dobermann is available around the clock… (By the way, the name "Chisana" literally means "tiny" but good grief, that dog blocked out the sun!)

Once inside, Miura poured me a cup of juice and told me she was going to make me a meal even though I'm not that hungry. But of course, free food is good food, and it would be unspeakably discourteous to refuse her offer. Besides, she did say it was going to be special. So I sat down on a sofa with absolutely nothing going through my mind. Oh yes, an attractive girl invited me to her house, and she's all alone for a couple of days, and I'm just here for a friendly chat. Absolutely nothing is going on in my mind. The dog Chisana thinks otherwise, and is watching me intensely from the porch. That dog is scary…

A few minutes later, she calls me. "Hey! Your food is ready! Hurry up!"

I could see the warm, comforting steam coming from her cooking… it's ramen. "I thought you were going to make something special?" I say, looking at her and the bowl of hot noodles with a soft egg in the middle.

"Yeah, it's a special ramen. Looks good, right?" She gives me this brilliant smile that struck me like lighting, and I felt my cheeks burn up. What the hell… this woman is dangerous. If I'm not careful, I might get swept under her spell. I shook my head.

"So you invited me all the way to your house to eat… ramen?"

Talk about a huge disappointment. Ramen… she said it was something special. But I think Miura sensed that I was severely disappointed because then she said something that really shook me deep down. She says to me, "do you want to eat it, or wear it on your head?"

"I-I'll eat it. Thank you so much! This looks really tasty!" I gave an uneasy laugh and began eating. Meanwhile, I'm also keeping an eye on her, because I'm paranoid that she might have ulterior motives up her sleeve.

By the time I was finished, she promised to make something really special for dinner. Aha, that means she wants me to stay until dinnertime… maybe even afterwards?

Oh, right. I'm a pervert. It can't be helped. What girls usually don't know is that there are two kinds of men: the ones who are perverts, and the ones who are dirty liars. The male human mind is literally hardwired to conceive sexual thoughts. How do you think we made it this far as a species? Any guy who says they don't have sexual thoughts is lying. Hell, even virgins dream of sex. But all that aside. The good thing about thoughts is that nobody else knows about it. I think it's pretty fundamental that you're allowed to imagine anything within the bounds of the human mind. But for a moment, let's have an open mind. If - and this is strictly hypothetical - Miura Yumiko wants to get it on, I think I have the time to stay a bit longer after dinner… there, I said it. I must have a stupid grin on my face again, because she calls me a creep. If she could read my thoughts, she'll probably murder me right now…

I just laughed. Forget it. I remember, she's my friend. How could I? I can't believe I actually considered that line of thought. Well, I'm not too sure what kind of relationship we have - if this is friendship, it sure is a peculiar one. Again, she's my friend now, since that fight we had at the diner. That's why I can't and won't fuck her over, literally and figuratively… It's sad to think that she has to spend her time in the company of the likes of me. I'm a second-rate kind of friend. She deserves better - Well, to be precise, she deserves someone who can actually be a nice friend to her, like Yui or Ebina. I'm not a nice person already, and I'm starting to question if I'm even morally good.

We watched a movie in the dark, with the curtains drawn, sitting on the same couch. I think one of the few things we shared a similar interest in are movies. Sometimes I recognize movie references Miura makes, especially catchy lines. And she really likes Leonardo DiCaprio. He actually has a huge fan base in Japan, and people call him the nickname "Leo-chan." When the movie Titanic showed in Asia for the first time, it quickly became the favourite movie of all time. Even I've got to give it to Leo-chan for his performances. Titanic occasionally still shows in theaters, and I remember going to see it with one of my classmates in High school.

Somewhere in the middle, I decided that it was no good - I'd rather watch movies alone. And in this case, with a girl beside me? Forget it, how can I enjoy the show… and before I knew it I dozed off.

When I woke up, the TV was making that white noise with static all over the screen. I guess the movie had ended… Miura was sleeping on my right shoulder. I shifted my head towards the right side. Her head was right next to mine. I could smell the warm fragrance coming from her hair… it was nice. I thought about waking her up, but she was sleeping so soundly that I decided to let her sleep. My shoulder was starting to ache and my arm began to feel numb… holding her head lightly, I got my shoulder out of there and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. She was still sleeping, with her head on my chest.

But what am I doing? While watching her sleep, I thought, it's not even a month since I've met Miura Yumiko. I shouldn't forget that she had only recently broken up with her boyfriend. I don't know how much they loved each other, but judging from the brief glimpses through her tough exterior she must have loved him enough to show him a different side of her. Her wounds must have healed a bit better now… but she's always beating me up, messing with me, putting me in trouble… but I think she's depending on me as well. So I'll do what I can to help her find happiness again, no matter how much I hate her happy endings.

And then what? It was making me sad. This whole affair was making me sad. But no, it's not about Miura, or the fact that we'll eventually part ways at some point in the future. It's perfectly clear to me that although she's a friend of mine, even friendship ends. But it's not that. I would like to imagine that it's still her who's head is on my shoulder. I fished out my phone from my pocket. Right there, I stared longingly at the picture of Yukino Yukinoshita. I've got my own happy ending to pursue. The truth was that it wasn't all over yet. But I've got to go right to the top and show her family I can be respectable as well.

Miura shifted around a bit, then woke up. Then she wiped her drool from her cheek. My shirt has something warm and slippery on it as well… judging from that, I suppose she slept well.

Soon, she's making dinner. It smells wonderful. I remember that Yui Yuigahama is pretty good with her culinary skills now, so maybe Miura taught her a trick or two. A funny thought crossed my mind. It felt as if we were newlyweds… I went over to the kitchen and saw her busying herself over so many different things.

I wanted to go behind her and give her a hug. I'd do that with Yukino. But of course, again, Miura and I don't have that kind of relationship. We've only held hands because she's often dragging me along or making sure I don't slip away. I like to entertain the possibility of parallel universes. If it was true, then there's a parallel universe where I actually came up behind Miura and wrapped my arms around her… and got killed.

She made Takikomi gohan and spicy tofu. I was really impressed. Miura must've read my mind on how I thought she is incapable of such level of cooking, because she was annoyed and told me that she's actually pretty good around the house, but just doesn't make the effort to show it. We sat down together. The Takikomi was good, but I was really excited with the spicy tofu because it looked delicious. I'm actually pretty hungry. And this is free food! I took a nice spoonful and carefully brought it to my lips, and put it in my mouth… and I almost spat it out.

It was very, very salty. It was beyond the point of saltiness that it was transcending into bitterness. I stand corrected… she's… Miura might just be as bad as her friend Yui. I began to cry.

"Aw… Don't be so emotional about it…" Miura's cheeks were turning pink as she blushed, thinking I was crying due to her culinary skills. She's not too far off either.

"Y-Yeah. It's… delicious," I sniffled, covering my eyes dreadfully.

This was the first meal she made for me. It was, in all honesty, a piece of shit… but how could I say it was horrible? Imagine her disappointment… first she'll go silent, and then cry painfully, and then explode. Screw that, she might just pour the whole thing down my throat.

And if she found out I was lying about how I liked her spicy tofu, she'll be hurt even more. If there's anything she hates the most, it's people who lie to her. I shivered. Which one is the lesser of the two evils? So I didn't allow Miura to eat not even a teaspoon of the stuff, and I ate the whole thing. We almost got into another fight. She said that she wanted a taste. I refused, and took away the whole bowl. She said that it was bullshit that she can't eat her own cooking. But oh, if only she knew!

I couldn't stop the tears rolling down my cheeks and my nose was runny… When I finished, I drank a 1.5 liter pitcher of water in seconds. I never appreciated water in my entire life as I did now. As a result I felt bloated - like a water balloon which might burst soon.

Anyway, it was getting pretty dark, and after this fiasco, I don't think I want to stay any longer. More misfortunes might follow if I do. I forced myself to smile, chuckling weakly. "Hey, I'm gonna go home. Thanks for dinner…"

"What? You're going already?" Miura says in a somewhat dejected voice. "But I'll be alone in the house…"

She's fiddling with her hair while not looking at me in the eye. I struggle not to let out a loud exasperated sigh. Normal guys wouldn't think twice of staying with Miura in her house - hell, they wouldn't even make the initiative of going to leave. But I knew this was asking for trouble.

"You're in more danger with me… now, make sure you lock all the doors and windows, okay?" I start to open the door, remembering to watch out for the dog, who could be prowling around the corner, when Miura pulls my left arm back.

"Wait… but we have to do something tonight…" She says softly with a flustered look.

My face just sours up and I laugh dryly.

Oh no! Do something? Just the two of us? There are some very provocative nuances of meanings in that sentence right there. An empty house, eight o' clock in the evening, and two people of the opposite sex in one room… what would we be doing tonight? What do you think, we would be playing Monopoly? Yeah right.

But if history does repeat itself, then all this is too good to be true. Besides, I am honestly not in the mood. By now, I'm more wary of Miura than of her pet Dobermann, because I have no idea what she is planning now.

She's bringing a huge stack of books and papers… and each article has post-its and highlights all over the page. "Hey, what's all this?" I ask curiously. She's also brought her laptop, and set it in front of me.

"You wanna show some gratitude? Then… type these for me," Miura flashed an assertive smile at me. The reason she really brought me over was to use me as her typewriting, homework-doing slave all night long… I knew it was too good to be true.

I spent all night typing her notes, post-its, and highlights, and doing the papers. She brought me a cup of coffee, then slept for an hour… then got up again, brought me a bowl of strawberries, then slept for an hour again… then got me some cookies… and then slept for an hour again. I saw how she's pretty good with English literature and is a major in Economics, which was commendable. Anthropology and social sciences? Not so much. She's more intelligent than she lets out.

Miura had been nice enough to roll out a flowery futon on the floor for me. It must've been past three o' clock in the morning when I finally finished the last of her schoolwork. With all that done, I planned to go home immediately… but I was too tired, and ended up collapsing on the futon. It was cold… Miura is on the couch, snoring away, wrapped in a cozy blanket. Well, I fell asleep all the same.

But still, I don't really mind. We don't really like each other anyway… or rather, we try not to hate each other. I guess that's what friendship is: not hating one another. I think even friends share some form of love between each other. You see, love doesn't always have to have sexual implications. It's a tricky thing, love is. But what do I know? I could say that I love something about her. Maybe it's how she's straightforward and sincere with herself. She's quite something.

...

A.N.: I realized that apparently, I have not-so-good skills in writing dialogue.. gonna have to work on that.

the whole part 1 of the story is just one big mess, I'm still going to have to rewrite, cut and polish it.. watch out for inconsistencies!