Title: Profit and Loss
Author: Rubious
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU-OOC
Spoilers: for episode 42 of Get Backers.
Archive: This story is archived at under "Rubious", under "Rubious2", and at my home page.
Disclaimer: Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. This story is a work of fanfiction and is intended for entertainment purposes only.
Notes: On a quiet afternoon in the Honky Tonk, Paul reflects on his business and customers.
thoughts
Tendrils of smoke wafted lazily upwards from the cigarette butt Paul had just stubbed out in the ashtray. He paused before the turning the page of the newspaper spread out before him on the counter and picked up the remote control to change the channel on the TV mounted on the wall, decreasing the volume so that it was mostly background noise.
It was tuned to a financial news channel with a continuous stock ticker scrolling across the bottom of the screen. The Nikkei index had rebounded after a string of recent declines, which brought a smile to the investor's face, who had struggled with the dwindling value of his portfolio and the increasing overhead of maintaining the Honky Tonk straining his cash flow.
Paul Wan had purchased the café a short time after the Plunderers, a group of noble adventurers, were betrayed by one of its own members to the Yakuza. After escaping, he chose to live a quiet life as a proprietor of a small coffeehouse in Shinjuku, which he acquired with the money he'd saved during his career as a Plunderer. Living modestly, his income was supplemented by accepting covert assignments for a network of contacts within the political and financial communities.
After refilling his coffee mug, Paul glanced out the window towards Mugenjo, the towering complex that loomed in the distance that always seemed to be shrouded in a cloak of mystery, even on the sunniest of days. Though he had never actually ventured inside, he knew from the accounts Ginji had told of his life there before meeting Ban and from the Get Backers recounting their IL retrieval mission, Mugenjo was a very dangerous place, far more perilous than anywhere he had encountered before.
I prefer it here in Shinjuku.His thoughts were interrupted by the telephone ringing. Setting down his mug, he answered the phone. "Good morning. Honky Tonk. Can I help you," he said politely.
"Master?" asked a youthful voice.
"Natsumi? Is anything wrong?" The caller was Paul's sole employee, Natsumi Mizuki, a high school student.
"I won't be able to come to work today. My coach scheduled an extra practice after school to get us ready for the upcoming tournament," she explained.
"Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I'll see you tomorrow," Paul replied.
"Thanks, Master. 'Bye."
Paul hung up the receiver and then took another sip of coffee. He remembered that Natsumi did have a table tennis tournament coming up in the near future that the Honky Tonk was sponsoring her in. She was an exceptional player and defeated him or Ban and Ginji in a friendly game of ping-pong on a regular basis. Besides being very athletic, the high school student had an easygoing demeanor.
He sensed that Natsumi had a soft spot for Ginji, but could there be anything developing between her and the prankster, Emishi? The unlikely duo had hit it off when they paired up on a mission the girl had taken on for the Get Backers. Anything is possible, especially with teenagers.
Two salarymen entered and sat down in one of the booths. Paul walked over and took their order, coffee and ham sandwiches for each of them. He brought them their meals and went back to watching the TV, switching the channel to a sports network, which was airing sumo tournament highlights.
A short time later, during which he refilled their coffee once, the customers paid their bill and departed, leaving the Honky Tonk bereft of business again. Paul sighed, hoping there would be more customers that afternoon. Business had slowed lately; he wasn't counting the non-paying clientele, most notably Ban and Ginji.
Picking up the newspaper he'd been reading earlier, he scanned through the restaurant guide, searching for possible inspiration. Internet cafes seemed to be popular, he noticed. There were certainly enough around to cater to the tech-savvy young crowd he hoped to attract. Now who could he possibly consult to tap into the mind-set of that group?
Thinking of the possibilities, he settled on Hevn. The blonde intermediary belonged to that demographic. Possessing a unique stylish flair, she would use her wide array of contacts to select a trio of designers, from which he'd choose a suitable plan in renovating the Honky Tonk.
The woman was wiser than her blonde bombshell appearance implied. Men get fooled into thinking she's just a bimbo. It's their mistake in underestimating her business acumen and take-charge attitude and realizing in the end they'd been outfoxed.Secrets hid behind her beguiling eyes; her past was as mysterious as the upper reaches of Mugenjo.
Pressing the remote, Paul switched stations to HGTV, an American cable channel devoted to home and gardens. "Maybe something here will give me some ideas on fixing up this place," he said, mulling what possible changes might make the café interior more appealing.
Taking inventory of the café's layout, Paul noted that as one entered the front door were three booths along the shortest wall in length. An oaken wainscoting ran the length of the other walls except for behind the bar. Above the wainscoting, the walls were painted a light green except in the area next to the front door, which was gray. Posters advertising concerts by local bands decorated the walls. At the far end, a door led to a staircase where upstairs was Paul's living quarters and there was a storage room in the basement. .
The room's dominant feature was a long wooden counter with six barstools for customers to sit. Behind the counter were storage shelves and a small cooking area
Paul shook his head as he watched the TV. A prissy man with an English accent was advising a squabbling couple, who were not taking his suggestions too kindly. If he tried that snobbish attitude with me, he'd be sent packing right away. No way would I replace everything with antique fixtures and turn this into a London tea room.
He waited to see if the next program would offer anything better. A perky brunette assisted by two hunky carpenters exhorted people to remodel a room in their neighbors' homes, much to their chagrin upon seeing the final result. Often, color schemes were garish, inexplicable, or conflicted with the homeowners' tastes.
Why would anyone want walls painted deep purple or maroon? That's too dark for my tastes. If painting needs to be done, Ban and Ginji could do it in exchange for paying down their tab. Natsumi told me that Shido was a capable carpenter when she saw him doing some repairs at Madoka's mansion.
If none of the proposals proved to his liking, Paul decided that he would turn to Hevn for her expertise. She had a keen eye for fashion. While he made himself a sandwich, the proprietor envisioned what a redesigned Honky Tonk might look like.
The Honky Tonk hummed with activity as customers chatted in booths or people stood at a row of kiosks along the wall using the Internet or checking e-mail. Light glinted off the chrome-framed prints adorning the ivory-painted walls while twentysomethings stood in front of flat-screen monitors that were mounted on a small group of round tables checking e- mail. Other huddled in the booths, chatting over coffee. Shelves behind the counter displayed pastries that customers could purchase to go along with a variety of coffees and lattes. Word of mouth had spread about the removed coffeehouse; the Honky Tonk quickly became one of the "in" places to go for a friendly atmosphere.
Finishing the sandwich, Paul mused aloud, "Hmm. I could even add some outdoor seating." He chuckled at the idea of Ban griping over losing his parking space in front of the café.
But the renovations would make a serious dent in his checkbook balance; the Honky Tonk's coffers weren't overflowing with revenue at the moment. Paul opened a drawer and took out a ledger to see if any receivable could be collected. Ban and Ginji's tab filled an entire page. Seeing the total accumulate, Paul sighed, wondering if the two youths would ever make any payments on their debt.
If a windfall ever came the Get Backers' way, it was quickly spent, whether it was their choice or not. Much of their income was spent paying impound fees to get the Subaru out of police storage because Ban hadn't paid his parking tickets. Ginji would give their last yen to someone last fortunate if circumstances warranted it.
Paul smiled as he recalled a Mark Twain quote he had once read: "Fortune knocks at every man's door once in a life, but in a great many cases the man is in a neighboring saloon and didn't hear her." That fits them perfectly. In their case though, they'd be sleeping in the car and couldn't hear it over somebody's snoring.
From his experiences a decade before, he shared a bond with the young duo. Though Ban's incentive was mostly materialistic, the Get Backers had noble intentions in retrieving items for their clients.
The afternoon passed uneventfully. Noticing that it was closing time, Paul locked the front door and shut off the lights. After climbing the stairs to his second floor apartment, he padded into the kitchen, took out a can of Asahi beer, and plopped down onto an easy chair. Popping the top, he took a long swig of the beer and pondered the future.
Red ink filled the Honky Tonk's ledger, but the losses didn't deter him from operating the café. It wasn't about making a profit. The real wealth to be gained was in the relationships that had grown and nurtured with friends and customers alike. And that was a priceless gift that couldn't be bought or sold.
The End
Author's Note
[1] For more information on my fanfiction projects, please check out my Live Journal at
Author: Rubious
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU-OOC
Spoilers: for episode 42 of Get Backers.
Archive: This story is archived at under "Rubious", under "Rubious2", and at my home page.
Disclaimer: Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. This story is a work of fanfiction and is intended for entertainment purposes only.
Notes: On a quiet afternoon in the Honky Tonk, Paul reflects on his business and customers.
thoughts
Tendrils of smoke wafted lazily upwards from the cigarette butt Paul had just stubbed out in the ashtray. He paused before the turning the page of the newspaper spread out before him on the counter and picked up the remote control to change the channel on the TV mounted on the wall, decreasing the volume so that it was mostly background noise.
It was tuned to a financial news channel with a continuous stock ticker scrolling across the bottom of the screen. The Nikkei index had rebounded after a string of recent declines, which brought a smile to the investor's face, who had struggled with the dwindling value of his portfolio and the increasing overhead of maintaining the Honky Tonk straining his cash flow.
Paul Wan had purchased the café a short time after the Plunderers, a group of noble adventurers, were betrayed by one of its own members to the Yakuza. After escaping, he chose to live a quiet life as a proprietor of a small coffeehouse in Shinjuku, which he acquired with the money he'd saved during his career as a Plunderer. Living modestly, his income was supplemented by accepting covert assignments for a network of contacts within the political and financial communities.
After refilling his coffee mug, Paul glanced out the window towards Mugenjo, the towering complex that loomed in the distance that always seemed to be shrouded in a cloak of mystery, even on the sunniest of days. Though he had never actually ventured inside, he knew from the accounts Ginji had told of his life there before meeting Ban and from the Get Backers recounting their IL retrieval mission, Mugenjo was a very dangerous place, far more perilous than anywhere he had encountered before.
I prefer it here in Shinjuku.His thoughts were interrupted by the telephone ringing. Setting down his mug, he answered the phone. "Good morning. Honky Tonk. Can I help you," he said politely.
"Master?" asked a youthful voice.
"Natsumi? Is anything wrong?" The caller was Paul's sole employee, Natsumi Mizuki, a high school student.
"I won't be able to come to work today. My coach scheduled an extra practice after school to get us ready for the upcoming tournament," she explained.
"Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I'll see you tomorrow," Paul replied.
"Thanks, Master. 'Bye."
Paul hung up the receiver and then took another sip of coffee. He remembered that Natsumi did have a table tennis tournament coming up in the near future that the Honky Tonk was sponsoring her in. She was an exceptional player and defeated him or Ban and Ginji in a friendly game of ping-pong on a regular basis. Besides being very athletic, the high school student had an easygoing demeanor.
He sensed that Natsumi had a soft spot for Ginji, but could there be anything developing between her and the prankster, Emishi? The unlikely duo had hit it off when they paired up on a mission the girl had taken on for the Get Backers. Anything is possible, especially with teenagers.
Two salarymen entered and sat down in one of the booths. Paul walked over and took their order, coffee and ham sandwiches for each of them. He brought them their meals and went back to watching the TV, switching the channel to a sports network, which was airing sumo tournament highlights.
A short time later, during which he refilled their coffee once, the customers paid their bill and departed, leaving the Honky Tonk bereft of business again. Paul sighed, hoping there would be more customers that afternoon. Business had slowed lately; he wasn't counting the non-paying clientele, most notably Ban and Ginji.
Picking up the newspaper he'd been reading earlier, he scanned through the restaurant guide, searching for possible inspiration. Internet cafes seemed to be popular, he noticed. There were certainly enough around to cater to the tech-savvy young crowd he hoped to attract. Now who could he possibly consult to tap into the mind-set of that group?
Thinking of the possibilities, he settled on Hevn. The blonde intermediary belonged to that demographic. Possessing a unique stylish flair, she would use her wide array of contacts to select a trio of designers, from which he'd choose a suitable plan in renovating the Honky Tonk.
The woman was wiser than her blonde bombshell appearance implied. Men get fooled into thinking she's just a bimbo. It's their mistake in underestimating her business acumen and take-charge attitude and realizing in the end they'd been outfoxed.Secrets hid behind her beguiling eyes; her past was as mysterious as the upper reaches of Mugenjo.
Pressing the remote, Paul switched stations to HGTV, an American cable channel devoted to home and gardens. "Maybe something here will give me some ideas on fixing up this place," he said, mulling what possible changes might make the café interior more appealing.
Taking inventory of the café's layout, Paul noted that as one entered the front door were three booths along the shortest wall in length. An oaken wainscoting ran the length of the other walls except for behind the bar. Above the wainscoting, the walls were painted a light green except in the area next to the front door, which was gray. Posters advertising concerts by local bands decorated the walls. At the far end, a door led to a staircase where upstairs was Paul's living quarters and there was a storage room in the basement. .
The room's dominant feature was a long wooden counter with six barstools for customers to sit. Behind the counter were storage shelves and a small cooking area
Paul shook his head as he watched the TV. A prissy man with an English accent was advising a squabbling couple, who were not taking his suggestions too kindly. If he tried that snobbish attitude with me, he'd be sent packing right away. No way would I replace everything with antique fixtures and turn this into a London tea room.
He waited to see if the next program would offer anything better. A perky brunette assisted by two hunky carpenters exhorted people to remodel a room in their neighbors' homes, much to their chagrin upon seeing the final result. Often, color schemes were garish, inexplicable, or conflicted with the homeowners' tastes.
Why would anyone want walls painted deep purple or maroon? That's too dark for my tastes. If painting needs to be done, Ban and Ginji could do it in exchange for paying down their tab. Natsumi told me that Shido was a capable carpenter when she saw him doing some repairs at Madoka's mansion.
If none of the proposals proved to his liking, Paul decided that he would turn to Hevn for her expertise. She had a keen eye for fashion. While he made himself a sandwich, the proprietor envisioned what a redesigned Honky Tonk might look like.
The Honky Tonk hummed with activity as customers chatted in booths or people stood at a row of kiosks along the wall using the Internet or checking e-mail. Light glinted off the chrome-framed prints adorning the ivory-painted walls while twentysomethings stood in front of flat-screen monitors that were mounted on a small group of round tables checking e- mail. Other huddled in the booths, chatting over coffee. Shelves behind the counter displayed pastries that customers could purchase to go along with a variety of coffees and lattes. Word of mouth had spread about the removed coffeehouse; the Honky Tonk quickly became one of the "in" places to go for a friendly atmosphere.
Finishing the sandwich, Paul mused aloud, "Hmm. I could even add some outdoor seating." He chuckled at the idea of Ban griping over losing his parking space in front of the café.
But the renovations would make a serious dent in his checkbook balance; the Honky Tonk's coffers weren't overflowing with revenue at the moment. Paul opened a drawer and took out a ledger to see if any receivable could be collected. Ban and Ginji's tab filled an entire page. Seeing the total accumulate, Paul sighed, wondering if the two youths would ever make any payments on their debt.
If a windfall ever came the Get Backers' way, it was quickly spent, whether it was their choice or not. Much of their income was spent paying impound fees to get the Subaru out of police storage because Ban hadn't paid his parking tickets. Ginji would give their last yen to someone last fortunate if circumstances warranted it.
Paul smiled as he recalled a Mark Twain quote he had once read: "Fortune knocks at every man's door once in a life, but in a great many cases the man is in a neighboring saloon and didn't hear her." That fits them perfectly. In their case though, they'd be sleeping in the car and couldn't hear it over somebody's snoring.
From his experiences a decade before, he shared a bond with the young duo. Though Ban's incentive was mostly materialistic, the Get Backers had noble intentions in retrieving items for their clients.
The afternoon passed uneventfully. Noticing that it was closing time, Paul locked the front door and shut off the lights. After climbing the stairs to his second floor apartment, he padded into the kitchen, took out a can of Asahi beer, and plopped down onto an easy chair. Popping the top, he took a long swig of the beer and pondered the future.
Red ink filled the Honky Tonk's ledger, but the losses didn't deter him from operating the café. It wasn't about making a profit. The real wealth to be gained was in the relationships that had grown and nurtured with friends and customers alike. And that was a priceless gift that couldn't be bought or sold.
The End
Author's Note
[1] For more information on my fanfiction projects, please check out my Live Journal at