CHAPTER XII

…

The longer you stick around in this world, the more you realize that something is wrong with everything. It's easy to become blinded by the brief respites from despair and the few moments that trick us into thinking that maybe it isn't too bad after all. People would try to drown their sorrows by binge drinking or turning to drugs, but it's all the same. Now maybe if I wasn't so wretched, I'd swerve away from that path. But the disturbing awareness of my impending death and the fact that I'd never bought into the idea of spirituality did not help my case.

It happened that the medicine for my degenerative illness was already being phased out, and dexamethasone wasn't manufactured in Japan anymore. It was a very sophisticated treatment, made to order. I'd have to arrange for it to be purchased and flown back from Russia, where it was still available. It was between the lines of inefficiency and adverse side effects that they cancelled the drug, but I wasn't about to turn myself in the hospital. I always held an aversion towards doctors. No, it wasn't a phobia. Call it an inherent distrust towards other people, with my inclination for being antisocial. There were only two physicians that knew of my illness, and one of them happens to be the father of a friend of mine.

I hope that we're not just human garbage, all headed towards a big sewer. But I think so. This is the fatal flaw with people who are realists. It's not that we detest anything remotely positive out of spite. After all, behind every cynic is once a hopeful optimist. I could never imagine myself growing into old age, and maybe having grandchildren. No, I didn't have the most imaginative mind at all. I would've easily settled for a life as a househusband once. You knew your raison d'être; just get out of bed, start moving around, wash the dishes and sweep the floor. But I suppose I'm not going to attain that ideal soon.

The conflict between our mob and the Inagawa-kai was defused for now. Yesterday, Hanzo and I had a sit-down and talked with the Yakuza people. A fragile truce was reached, under the condition that there would be no more aggression between the two parties. Hanzo Ieyori appeared as the front boss and took up the responsibility, assuring the Inagawa-kai of our end of the deal. I was acting as his advisor at that time. But we knew that peace wouldn't last very long. There were other matters to be concerned with. Now I find myself in a bar in Narashino, away from the game if only for a few hours. The January weather had turned bleak. I stared out the window. The boardwalk jutted over the beach, stretching along the coast as the unforgiving gales blew inland. There were hardly any people walking along the pier.

You may be wondering what I was doing out there on such a day. I was making a retreat from some nasty business of my own. I needed to think and to clear my head. I'd just parted ways with Yumiko and dropped her at the station before driving up here. She knew what she wanted to do on a weekend. I had my own ideas as well.

The house wasn't as large as the Grandeur, but it was well furnished and topped any other izakaya in the city. Office boys and the like came to such places. That was when I met her again. It's a small world, so they said. I didn't understand why I was so surprised to find her working as a barista. It was what she did, even back then. Perhaps it was because a part of me had wanted to see her. It had been a long time since I last heard from her.

I'd spotted her and began to watch from my booth, not daring to approach soon. I swirled the half-empty glass in my hand. She worked quietly and deliberately, pouring and mixing drinks behind the counter and serving the men atop the stools across her. She was dressed sharply, donning a simple uniform of a waistcoat, shirt and slacks with a matching necktie. Her flowing silvery hair was tied behind her head, so as not to impede her actions. Why should I appear before her? I weighed my choices. After all this time, I didn't think she would be happy to see me.

Two burly men in suits got up front and caught her attention. She faced them with a calm and unperturbed expression, regardless if one of the men was becoming increasingly irritated and unruly. The man flung his demands and insults over the counter and at her. What the debacle was about, I quickly forgot. Trivialities that did not matter to me. Any gentleman would have stepped in to relieve a lady who was clearly in a bind. But I merely sat back and watched carefully.

Then it happened. When the man overstepped and slammed his fists on the bar, snarling at her, she snapped. She seized the man's necktie and with a fluid motion, smashed his chin onto the countertop. It was followed by a sharp slap across his face, sending the guy staggering backwards. It prompted eyebrows to raise, including mine, but I was more impressed than shocked.

This was the Kawasaki Saki that I always knew. Strong, independent, and not one to be taking shits from other people. I used to be intimidated at the way she'd look at us piercingly. She even wouldn't put up with a certain fire queen from our class. She could've been a delinquent, but she wasn't.

She was just like me, someone who was singled out from the pack and left to fend for herself. When she walked over, the man shoved off and his companion flinched. She said they'd better beat it before she lost her temper. With that, the two men grudgingly left the house.

Kawasaki Saki was the one who first introduced me to a part time job in a bar after all. Which, one thing led to another, put me in touch with Hanzo Ieyori and eventually an opportunity to enter the mob life. I mused at the notion that it was all to Kawasaki that I am what I am now. She brushed herself off and in a moment, her face was washed with an apathetic expression again. She continued polishing a cocktail glass, ignoring all the gazes pointed at her. This was all over in under a minute. A female coworker appeared from behind the spare room and worried about her. Kawasaki shrugged her off.

I made my way over to the bar.

I took a seat on one of the stools and waited patiently, seeing if she would notice. "Bourbon on the rocks, miss." She heard, but did not look up immediately. She went to get the bottle from a rack on the wall. "That was a hell of a move you pulled back there," I said.

"They're askin' for it. I say let people get what they fucking deserve."

She answered brusquely. If she was surprised to recognize me, she didn't show. Neither did she react with any interest. Kawasaki treated me with indifference, like any other passersby in the house. Three ice cubes tumbled into a glass before being poured over with the honey-coloured ambrosia. She slid it towards me curtly, finally glancing me in the eye for a second.

We'd never been that communicative verbally. It was enough that we picked up from the subtle nuances in between, and allowed the silent pauses. Sometimes, we had to guess what it meant. And sometimes we guessed wrong. I swirled the whiskey in my glass before taking a sip. It was bitter, but I was used to it.

I continued to glance at her quietly. Despite everything, I resolved to speak to her. I knew my presence was unexpected, and this meeting an unwanted reunion. I asked, "are you still mad at me, Saki?"

Kawasaki let out a strained sigh. "Oh for Christ's sake, Hachiman, can't you take a hint?"

"I just want to talk with you," I reasoned.

She scoffed contemptuously, carrying on with her business. "Just wanna talk, you say? Huh. That's what everyone always says. Don't get all cheeky and be calling me by my first name." She refused to look at me. Her voice became low. "After all these years…"

"You know I didn't intend for things to end that way," I muttered. "Maybe you don't want to see me again, and that I could understand. If I'd known to find you in this place, I wouldn't have come, out of shame. What do you want me to say? I didn't want to part ways with you but… we can't always get what we want. Don't you know that, Kawasaki-san?"

We remained silent towards each other for a good while. I resigned to the fact that if she would rather not speak of the past again, then there's nothing else to be said. I just had to deal with it and leave. But she thought it over, and as the guests in the bar became fewer and fewer, she spoke up.

Kawasaki finally looked at me, though unamused. "Meet me at the back in a while," she said before taking my now empty glass. I stood up and made for the door.

The icy wind greeted me on the way out, and I walked around the parking lot and behind the building. The sea was right before me now. The sky was dark and barren, and would more likely rain than snow. I pulled over my hat and shoved my hands deep in my pockets. After a few minutes, she appeared outside. She was now covered in a dark green overcoat and wore a Seibu baseball cap. She was taller now and had grown into a proud woman. A fighter. Her purple eyes were stern but serene. She was what Mama Imoguiri would've called a 'señora', a fine but strong lady.

She walked over and confronted me.

"You said you want to talk. Spit. I don't see the point of going around in circles again."

I smiled at her. I looked out to the sea again. She turned her gaze as well. "How's your family these days?" I started.

"A wreck." She muttered disgruntledly. She leaned her arms on the railings and gazed at the pier. "Mom and Dad finally split. They took Keika-chan and Taishi-kun with them while leaving me in the dust." She peered at me to see if I was listening. "Are you familiar with the dilemma of having to choose between siding with your mother or your father? It's fucked up. Then again, nobody should ever have to choose between that. I didn't go with either of them."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "You didn't want to live with either your mom or dad?"

"Hell no. Besides, I reckon they both got married their own ways. I'll be out of place and just become a burden. No, it's better now that I'm on my own. I still visit Mom and Keika-chan sometimes."

"I could say the same. Mine, they're in the states right now," I said quietly.

She took out a pack from her coat and placed a cigarette between her lips. Inwardly, I was somehow content to find a similarity at least between us. A preference for mild smokes. We may be on the same boat, but that wasn't really the case. We had both gone down separate paths, and we were now different individuals. Life had forced us to harden up. Similarity was only an illusion at this point, so I thought.

"Ah, shit." Kawasaki fumbled with her lighter, but a sudden wind blew out the flame.

"Here, let me," I offered.

I moved closer to her and produced a matchbox from my pocket. Methodically, I struck a match against the strip and cupped my hands over it to shield the bursting little flame from the icy wind. In some ways, matches still proved relevant despite lighters. The phosphorus tip burned fiercely enough for a good second, properly lighting her cigarette. She took several quick whiffs before lowering it. I lit my own.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"Don't mention it."

"I didn't forget about you even after all this time. Why didn't you come with me to Tokyo after we graduated?"

I sighed. "People and their antics can be really strange, no?" I chuckled naively. "Maybe there was something I didn't want to leave behind. Something unfinished. Someone… not so important anymore. Well, I have my excuses."

Kawasaki scowled at me. "You broke our promise to each other. Fuck you."

"I'd have thought out of all people, you knew that. You can always expect promises to be broken," I said.

"I thought we agreed that we'd always have each other when we needed support," she said disdainfully. "You're a piece of shit, and you know that. You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

I put up my hands tactfully. "I'm here now. Time brought us back together again, did it not?"

"Too long and too late. It's not gonna make a difference now."

I shook my head sadly. "No, it wouldn't."

Kawasaki was disappointed. She faced me seriously. "Hachiman, you betrayed me. You kept talking about how people will stick a knife in your back the moment you turn around, as soon as they've used you already, when it turns out you're no different than them. After Miura and Hayama got together, and when you've finally made amends with Yukinoshita, I hoped we could move on. I hoped you were done with her. It seems I was wrong."

I was incredulous. "You hold too tightly on things that are so ephemeral such as hope. I didn't intend to break our promise. I would've readily gone with you after graduation, but… that's not me. I might be a piece of shit, but that makes us two if you haven't realized how selfish that would be. And for what, to just leave our families abruptly? We haven't come this far to make such an impulsive decision. And betrayal… but that's an inherent part of love."

"Tch… well, forget about it. We're done." She looked away, blowing a puff of smoke and pushing her hands in her pockets. She glared at me. "Did you really even feel the same way towards me?"

"I did," I admitted, though I found it difficult to face her. "I loved you… but it's not gonna make a difference now." I took a long drag from my cigarette before throwing it down and crushing it. It didn't help the heavy feeling in my heart. "Is this our last meeting?"

"Is that what you want?"

I smiled again at her, affectionately. "I wouldn't say that. But I imagine we might cross each other again." I finally began to part ways, but not before looking back. "Saki, I'll see you around. Take care on your way home, love."

She frowned, watching me disappear around the corner and into the night. She sighed. Her cheeks were tinted slightly a pinkish hue. She went back inside to close up the house and hail a cab back to home.

It was a coincidence that we did cross into each other again not even a day later. The next morning, right after the itinerary of coming along for the Sunday mass with the Ieyoris, I went downtown to once again involve myself in the business. With the burden of responsibilities shifted unto me, there was little respite. I was again driven down the Rue de La Pierre street and shaking hands with Xiao Bo inside the office of the Chiba Outfit tailor shop. When high noon came around, I was free for an hour and went down to the mall in Shinchiba district, to make for our fronts in the area.

Kawasaki Saki might've been in the game before I was, and like anyone else with a competitive mindset and an edge to employ questionable measures, she moonlighted different jobs. No, she didn't learn from Hanzo, nor did she have the privilege of being under the protective umbrella of a family. She had to learn on her own. I'd even learned a thing or two from her. I realized that she was ahead of the rest of us in high school, always looking forward. Maybe that was what differentiated her from me. And now, I happened to spot her once again, this time inside the mall.

As I walked down the main floor of the place, I discreetly eyed the department stores and windows on either side of the crowded corridor. I stared a moment too long into one window, and saw her.

Kawasaki was now more casual. She had on a red scarf, a mouse gray cashmere blouse and a pair of blue jeans, and carried her handbag slung on one shoulder. A pair of sunglasses was stuck on her hair. She had a certain sway in her steps, as she walked over to an aisle in the cosmetics section of the department. She eyed the racks judiciously, and started picking up expensive and sophisticated boxes of perfume and make-up, even sampling some of them.

She went over to the cashier and smiled charmingly at the young man, who was taken by surprise. He returned her politeness clumsily. I did not hear what was said between them, but as I watched, I was amazed. Kawasaki set down her hefty purchases on the countertop. The clerk suddenly pulled an embarrassed look, and shook his head as if apologizing "not allowed." She pulled an irritated pout, and began persuading. A few more moments, and the clerk seemed to relent, bending over behind the counter and producing a paper bag, which he began to fill with her purchases. But I had not seen Kawasaki pull out even a single bill this whole time. At first I was bewildered on how she'd done what she did.

She strolled out of the mall, sunglasses on now, brimming with confidence. Only now did I notice that she'd been carrying two other bags the whole time, both probably obtained using the same devious method she employed. I pieced the hints together. Kawasaki couldn't have seduced the young clerk back there, but she did have charisma. But she didn't convince him to give her the products for free.

Then it hit me. She pulled a hustle. The department store did not have a refund policy, which she now exploited sharply. The clerk did not notice her taking the boxes of perfumes from the aisle. She asked for a refund of her "purchases" when in fact she hadn't purchased anything at all. The young man, too stunned by her appearance, didn't know any better. He told her they don't make refunds. She raised a small argument before relenting, instead asking the clerk for a paper bag to put her purchases in. Now, she could walk out as if she just made a legit transaction.

And the CCTV cameras? You'd have to be watching closely to even notice that something was off, and with the clerk letting the hustler go, tucking the stuff in a bag and waving her off himself, it was wildly deceiving. It was clever.

I began to walk towards her as she left the shop. I trailed her until we made a turn and were headed for the main exit of the mall. I caught up to and appeared beside her, a good space away of course.

I was impressed. She was pretty bold and daring to be pulling such schemes. I caught her attention and she turned her head. "The old refund trick. Seems like you've scored quite some stuff there," I commented.

Kawasaki was initially surprised, and flinched. She frowned, recognizing me. "Mind your own business," she growled. "What the hell are you doing here? What do you want this time?"

"It happened by a fluke that we ran into each other once again. There's nothing wrong with that." I looked her down, humming to myself. "I know you were the one who taught me a couple of tricks, but I honestly didn't expect you to be hitting the stores that hard. A fighter, a barista and a hustler. What's next?"

"You're not gonna rat on me, are you?" She said irritably.

"Do I look like a rat to you?"

"Certainly."

"Hey! I'm not that low," I furrowed my eyebrows and pouted ostensibly at her. "Even I know the meaning of integrity." I smirked.

"Well, you gotta do what you gotta do."

"Looks like you're carrying a heavy weight. Let me help you."

"Hoh? No way. What're you trying to do?"

"I'm just offering to help, only that." I shrugged. "What do you think I am going to do? I'm not that much of a bastard as you figure me to be." I peered at her coldly, slightly offended of her inward suspicions.

"Fine." She handed two of the bags to me. It weighed more than a pound each. I guessed one contained clothes, and the other might be more cosmetics. "You try to pull anything funny, I'll drop you like your girlfriend." To this, I giggled.

We talked a bit, stopping at a café for a while. We learned that we both moonlighted bookmaking, loan-sharking and a handful of side jobs to supplement our meager salary from our day jobs. The difference was that Kawasaki was more honed in the field of hands-on scheming. She was a lone wolf who took what she could and fended off for herself. She hustled relentlessly. It was mostly shoplifting and fencing off her scores, but although she didn't divulge it to me openly, I was certain there was more to her than she lets out. She was a white-collar criminal of the finest class, you could say.

"Figures," she said. "Well, I guess I'm glad that you did sort of change for the better in a way, thanks to me. I didn't expect you to stick around with Hanzo-kun until now, after all, you did ditch me without so much as a goodbye," she muttered disgruntledly.

I nodded guiltily, sipping on my coffee. I crossed my arms and looked out the window. "I suppose you have someone to fence these stuff off."

"Yeah, no," she shortly said. "I do my own business too. Listen, I do it out of necessity. My Mom's new boyfriend is one worthless son-of-a-bitch who doesn't have a stable job, so I said, fuck it. I'll do it myself. I don't understand why she even fell for that guy. Can you believe that shit?" She sighed angrily. Just as swiftly her temper rose, it dropped and left her. She blushed, realizing that she had said too much. "A-Ah, sorry. I guess I've been rambling. Forget about it."

I shrugged and reassured her. "Well, I'm not gonna stick my nose in that affair. I have no say. How is she, your mom?"

"She's been kinda depressed lately. But to be fair, considering her joke of a boyfriend, I'd be pretty sick too."

"What about Keika-chan?"

A rare smile crept on Kawasaki's lips. "Oh, bless her. She's fine. I suppose we're on the same wavelength, and she doesn't like mom too much as well. I see her every afternoon when school lets out."

"That's good," I agreed.

"Yeah." She picked up her cup of frappuccino and sucked on the straw. "Student loans are a bitch though. I don't know why I even signed up for college. You look at it this way, it's almost like a scam to hustle you out of your money. I coulda just gotten a fine job just as good. Well, no use complainin' now."

"We're in the same boat. I feel you."

She nodded. I realized that we - her peers and I - didn't actually know where we stood with Kawasaki. She was farther ahead than the rest of us back in high school, and she always looked forward. She was distant and reserved, but she could just as well work with others unlike me. That might be what differentiated her from me. We were too close to be acquaintances, yet already too distant and out of touch with each other to be friends.

"Kawasaki-san, do you want to go out for a drink tonight?"

"E-Eh? Damn, you work fast, Hachiman." She looked at me disgustedly, hiding her surprise. "No sense of shame as usual."

"I'm just being straightforward. I'm not one for bullshitting anymore. Take it or leave it."

"Well then, in that case I'll take you up on your offer if you'll be so kind," she smirked.

And so that evening, we met up once more in the city. I resolved to settle and make amends. There were things that needed to be said, and old wounds that must heal. The promise that I'd made to her, which was broken. When Yukino and her family left the country and parted ways with me; when we both saw how Miura Yumiko and Hayama Hayato got together, even if it was short lived; Kawasaki felt a chance which she took wholeheartedly. We both had our share of internal problems with the family. She wanted to get away from her parents, and I was at a low at the time as well after Yukino left. She wanted to stick together with me for college. But being the fool that I am, I was too ignorant and unwilling to hope again.

Kawasaki was someone who I'd tried to forget, and she did too. Because our last encounter left a bitter taste in our mouths. Now, I hoped that our restless reunion would mend our relationship even if only a bit. It would be a fine consolation.

I started hesitantly. We both felt slightly timid towards each other, given our past. She watched me anxiously. "Listen. I've done you wrong, I know that- "

"Hush up," she put a finger on my lips and sighed bashfully. "We're cool, really. You gotta let that go. That's life, and we've got to move on at some point."

"I was hoping we could start again." I said quietly, looking her in the eyes. "A part of me says that I should just leave it as it is. Everything is better this way, now that we've gone our separate ways, don't you think? And I do too. But like I said, I've done you wrong and if I hadn't betrayed our promise back then, maybe we'd still be friends."

Kawasaki mumbled inaudibly, looking down at her feet. "Well… not necessarily…"

I said regretfully, "it's by my own fault that I've lost a good friend like you, Saki."

She immediately put down her glass of highball. She blushed, glancing up at me petulantly. "You dope!" She snapped. "Who said you've lost me as a friend? Did you really think I could hold a vendetta against you this long? I told you we're cool, alright?!"

I chuckled lightly and held both of my hands open. We both felt more comfortable, having broken the ice between us. After a while, she spoke again.

"No, I don't think we have to part ways. Knowing you, I figure you'd think that it's necessary to 'delete' and 'reset' your relationships once it goes to shit, but let me tell you once and for all that that ain't the setup, pal. Goddammit, a real friend is someone who you couldn't get rid of even if you tried. And if you wanted to end things with me, why'd you ask me out tonight?" She exclaimed.

"Well… touché," I hummed, resigning myself to her points.

Kawasaki was reluctant to speak her heart. "The truth is that I've never forgotten about you, even though you didn't stick with me as we promised. How could I? After all we've been through… I'll admit, life became a bit more hard and bitter for me without you to help me up. I didn't have anyone else to rely on. It's different now." Her eyes darted around anxiously, as she struggled to word her thoughts. "But… everything would sure be more bearable if we still had each other like before y'know, Hachiman?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Even though I think we're living in hell right now, at least I'd have you."

"You're fucking twisted!"

We both shared a good laugh.

"We're still friends," she said. "Always has been."

Kawasaki smiled, but deep inside, she felt a sharp pain touch her heart upon thinking of the word "friends." Because the truth was that we haven't always been friends. Once, we were more than that. At one point, we were too close to be merely friends, and not far enough to be acquaintances. We were close enough to be called that peculiar thing - love. We could've been. But I broke the chance. Maybe it was because of love that I did what I did, but… that's not important anymore.

.

.

Another one joins the game! At this point anything might happen.. it took me a while to introduce Kawasaki into the story, but of course she just has to appear. It wouldn't be really complete without her, don't you think? Every time I think up a plot with 8man and Kawasaki which involves part time jobs and business, I just can't help turning it into something of a crime/adventure novel.

I guess it all started when I watched some movies and 'Fear City: New York vs. The Mafia'. It stuck in my head, I had to read up on stuff, and now I'm stuck in the rabbit hole that is organized crime. Interesting topics.

And it's curious how people are interested with Haruno and what can happen with her and 8man. y'all like that huh? The next chapter will be a flashback of sorts to shine light on what really happened between 8man and Yukino. After that, well... let's see what happens.