Anchor
Written by: RinoaDestiny
#8 – Nightlife
They decided one night to meet at a bar located downtown. Having no plans that evening, Kyo zipped his way there on his bike, reaching the destination three minutes earlier than the time discussed. It didn't surprise him, though, to find Iori already there. The other man spotted him and waved him over, motioning to an empty stool beside him. Iori was dressed simply in a dark red dress shirt, black jeans, and the ring on his finger gleamed in the dim light. Making his way there, Kyo seated himself.
"This the bar you frequent?"
"It's a good spot," Iori said, taking a sip of amber-colored liquor. There was a single ice cube in it. "The bartenders know what they're doing. Gets in all the good stuff like this." A slight motion of his hand and Iori's liquor swirled in the glass. "Whiskey from Ireland."
"We have whiskey, too."
"Not quite the same."
"How's it different?" Kyo asked, uncertain about the differences in whiskey. To him, whiskey was whiskey, right? Since Japan made their own, wouldn't Japanese whiskey suffice?
"Whiskey originated in Ireland." Iori responded matter-of-factly, as though giving him a small history lesson. "Prefer it from the source."
"Huh. Didn't take you as a connoisseur."
"I have few tastes, so I make them count."
"Quality, eh?"
"Yeah." Iori took another sip from his glass. "You getting anything?"
Kyo motioned to the bartender, who wiped his hands clean and came over. "One Sapporo, please." Since he needed to get back home later on his bike, he wanted nothing stronger than beer. "Don't need a glass."
"It's on my tab, so order whatever you want."
"Sure."
His beer came in its bottle. After thanking the bartender, who further acknowledged him – Iori being a regular seemed to help as well – Kyo took a pull and observed his surroundings. The other patrons here were either seated or standing, drinks cradled in their hands. Some made small talk, while others remained solitary and quiet. Lights from cell phones reflected off young faces. While some dressed casual like he did – shirt (his was blue) and jeans – others were in slacks and a few women wore simple dresses.
The bar was decent-sized, not too large or too small and had a warm welcoming vibe. There was music playing – was it jazz? – and the bartender was busy, going from customer to customer, serving drinks and starters. Maybe later, after a bit more beer, he'd order something to nibble on. Iori continued sipping at his whiskey, foregoing his usual cigarettes.
"No cigs?"
"Not allowed here. I can always smoke outside after."
He took another drink of beer. "Nice place here."
"Thought you'd like it."
Some time passed, in which he continued absorbing in the ambience and Iori moved onto his second glass of whiskey. Kyo finished his beer and got a small starter plate of food, which he and Iori shared. Their fingertips would touch and while they didn't say anything, Kyo smiled and Iori's expression said it all. They finished the plate and Iori ordered something else to accompany their drinks.
"Would this count as a date?" he asked, keeping his volume low.
Iori looked at him, barely fazed by the alcohol he kept consuming. Kyo wanted to reach out and push his hair aside, but refrained from doing so. "If you want."
It didn't count as one to Iori, but Kyo took what he could from their still developing and young relationship. "Drinks in a bar? Not a bad way to do it."
Iori simply took a sip of whiskey and didn't say anything.
Time passed pleasantly enough and warm with alcohol and food, Kyo decided to hit the restroom in back. Iori would be outside after paying, waiting for him. The restroom was small but well-kept and clean. If he became a regular here, it wouldn't be a bad place to while away a quiet evening. He was also curious about the difference in whiskeys, as he'd discussed earlier with Iori.
Upon arriving outside, Kyo noticed a slight altercation taking place. There was a heavyset man – a complete stranger – accosting Iori, whose body language showed annoyance. Kyo was about to approach them when he glimpsed the man's right hand and its missing pinky finger. Yakuza. What the hell was a Yazuka member doing bothering Iori? The idiot would be lucky to walk away intact.
"Told you 'no'. Go away!"
Instead of heeding Iori, the man only got closer. Kyo couldn't hear him, but the sudden shift in Iori's body told him the fighter was prepared to strike back if necessary. The whiskey hadn't seemed to impair Iori and Kyo knew the other man could hold his own against others, so he remained where he was. He'd told Yuki before Iori could take care of himself; if he believed what he said, he'd let Iori handle this unless he couldn't.
Kyo doubted that. Iori Yagami against the Yakuza was child's play.
"I said 'no!' I'm not interested!"
The Yakuza idiot said something.
"Fuck do I care? That's your problem!"
Another set of words Kyo couldn't hear.
"Not your hired hand! Not the other, either! Find someone else!"
Either the moron had a death wish, deliberately pretended not to hear, or had an agenda which included the possibility of being maimed as part of the plan. Kyo couldn't figure out which was which or if it was a package deal with the man irritating his lover. This time, when the man spoke, Kyo heard him.
"You'll regret this!"
"Fuck I will!" Iori hollered back, tone irate. "Leave now or else you'll die!" The redhead made a threatening gesture and the Yazuka idiot fled, muttering something under his breath. With the incident over, Kyo approached. Other bystanders, he noticed, also had avoided the area until it passed.
"Hadn't heard that in a while," he said, keeping his tone light to smooth over the aftermath of the situation. "Will I hear it again during the tournament this year?"
Iori's rage still lingered, for his face was tense and angry. "Fuck did that guy think he was?"
"Yakuza. Maybe he thought you'd be intimidated?"
"Tch."
"What was that about, anyway?"
"Wanted a hitman or someone to fuck. Or both. Didn't make it very clear."
Kyo raised an eyebrow. "And he decided you were the one to –"
"I'm not a goddamn assassin. Or a whore."
"Guy's a moron."
"Obviously." Iori shoved his hands into his pants pockets, scowl still etched in lines on his face. "Do I look like either one of those?"
"You fight, but –"
"That's all I do. I can't be bought."
"Must be a gang war or something, if he came to you. Think he scouted the place? Knew you were here?"
"Probably. Scare me? Pah. I'll scare him if he comes back."
"Yeah. Not worried – know you've got this."
"Fucking idiot."
"That's two of us, then. Good to know we agree." Kyo turned, angling his body towards his parked bike. "Besides that, I like this place."
"The bar?"
"Yeah."
"Good." The mood had altered and with the incident over, discussed and gone, Iori's expression turned mild. "Now that they know you, you can always come back."
"I'll let you know."
People walking around, neon lights ablaze – bright colors aglow in the night – and the city was in full swing. Osaka's nightlife never disappointed, especially if one knew the good locales.
"You have to leave right away?"
"No." Kyo redirected his gaze back to Iori, whose face was a question. "Why? You have something in mind?"
Iori flushed red, then – it wasn't the alcohol – and leaned closer. Whispered in his ear. Kyo felt himself burn hot and stared at the other man, surprised. "You sure, Yagami?"
"We don't have to…not if…but I…"
He nodded. "Just let me know, okay?"
Iori didn't respond but he didn't have to. Kyo could read his expression.
"Night's still young. Come on."