The restaurant owner's dirty looks stopped as soon as they ordered. That was a relief. What was wrong with four friends talking for a little while before looking at the menu? What a weirdo. What a weird restaurant. What was a Honky Tonk, anyway?

"Riko? Are you sure he'll be here."

"Of course I'm sure, Midori." Riko sipped at the tea their waitress had brought; it was just the way she liked it, not too weak or too strong. Someone here knew their job. "I told you, I saw him here before." Two weeks ago, not yesterday like they assumed. Not that Riko was going to tell them that.

"It just…well, it doesn't look like a place he'd hang out at." Kohana's gaze focused somewhere past Riko's left shoulder. Riko didn't have to turn around to see what had the other girl's attention. Those two weirdos who'd harassed her about some old guy's briefcase sat two booths behind them. The one with purple glasses glared at them while his friend with the spikey blond hair babbled like an idiot. After one withering glance, Riko pointedly ignored them. Where did they get off, treating her like that?

"I heard gangs operate out of here."

Riko suppressed a sigh. Suzu's obsession with gangs and mobsters was getting old. She had this theory Akabane worked for the yakuza, or maybe a Russian syndicate. (Or was it a Chinese tong? Suzu's theories were hard to keep straight.) In any case, the whole idea was ridiculous. Akabane was far, far better than any gangster.

The waitress brought their sodas. "Paul-san's making fresh dough for your pizza. It'll be a little while longer, so please, enjoy these complimentary cheesesticks on me."

Riko returned the girl's smile. "That's so nice of you!" Someone in this place appreciated customers.

Kohana speared a couple cheesesticks onto one of the tiny plates the waitress left with them. "Riko, how long are we going to wait? It's already been an hour. I've got that calculus exam Wednesday, and I really need to study."

This time Riko did sigh. She wished at times she hadn't bragged to the others about Akabane, but after listening to them go on and on and on about their lame boyfriends (okay, maybe not so lame – they were cute) for the last month or so, she couldn't resist.

So, naturally, they wanted to see Akabane for themselves.

Arranging an opportunity was tricky. In the past year, Akabane never answered questions about where he lived in their email exchanges, and her hints about meeting him fell flat. Running into him on the streets of Shinjuku was Riko's only face-to-face contact. Then, coming home from an arcade one night she'd seen Akabane leaving this place. And again, a few nights later. She mentioned this in her next email and to her delight he admitted that, yes, he was fond of that quaint little restaurant and frequented it regularly.

Finding a night when Suzu wasn't out with her boyfriend, or Midori didn't babysit her little brother or when Kohana wasn't cramming for her advanced classes was even trickier. Finally, though, everything clicked, and here they were.

"He'll be here," Riko said, exasperated. "Trust me."

"Are you sure?" Suzu peered at her over her soda glass.

Riko scowled. What was with them? They'd begged to see Akabane, and now they were whined because they had to wait?

The door opened. As one, the girls looked up.

Midori gasped. "Is that –"
Riko half-rose from her seat. There was no one else with that hat, that coat… that unmistakable walk. He's here. He's here! "Akabane-san!"

"Oh…wow…yakuza never look like him…"

As if finally noticing the attention he attracted, Akabane raised his hat with one gloved hand and looked directly at them.

At Riko.

And smiled.

Riko smiled back; she couldn't help her. Her face felt hot, and she knew she looked like an idiot, but she didn't care. When Akabane – her Akabane – walked toward them, butterflies the size of the space shuttle did loop-de-loops in her stomach.

"Akabane-san…hello…" she managed when he stopped in front of their booth."Riko-chan." He smiled again. "How very nice to see you."

"It's never nice to see you, jackal." The weirdo with the purple glasses stood up from his booth. "What are you doing here?"

Akabane continued to smile as he glanced over at the other man. "I am here to see Riko-chan, if it's any of your business…which it isn't, Midou-kun."

"Her? You've moved on to molesting little girls?"

Riko whipped around in her seat. How dare he?! Before she could open her mouth, however, Midori was out of the booth, arms akimbo. "Don't you talk about the man who saved Riko-chan like that!"

The black-haired weirdo gaped. "Saved her?"

"Yeah!" Suzu chimed in, only a step behind Midori. "After you and your loser friends put her in danger in the first place!"

Riko grinned. Watching Midori the Mouse and Suzu take on Akabane's distracter was funny. If Midori chose to believe that Akabane's arrival had saved Riko…well, there was nothing Riko could do about that, was there? It wasn't her fault Midori was such a die-hard romantic. She shot a look at Kohana; the other girl's lips twitched as she took a sip of tea. Riko examined her nails. Her polish needed a touch-up. She hoped Akabane hadn't noticed. "You know, you never did apologize to me for about that."

The man's eyes bulged. His mouth opened and shut like a fish's. "We saved you! Those guns were real! Not that – that – that ---" He slammed his fist into the table top, grabbed his yellow-haired friend by the arm and stormed out of the restaurant, nearly knocking over Akabane in the process.

Akabane chuckled as they disappeared past the front window. "So cold."

"Yeah," Riko muttered. She felt a twinge of guilt; the weirdoes had saved her, after all…even if they had been the ones to put her in danger in the first place. Why would they associate with people who carried guns in broad daylight?

"But they are gone now." Those gorgeous violet eyes seemed to gaze into her soul. "And I am glad to see you, Riko-chan."

"Riko-chan's told us all about you, Akabane-san." Kohana leaned forward. Riko felt a stab of jealousy. Kohana had a boyfriend already. What was she doing, trying to take Akabane's attention from her?

"She has?"

"Yes! She has!" Midori looked down at the table and giggled. Riko gave a mental groan. Why did Midori have to act like such a child? She was going to spoil everything.

"That's very flattering. I'm honored. Riko-chan, if I may presume…" He paused, watching her.

"Yes?"

"I would like to speak with tomorrow."

He wanted to speak with her. Privately? Of course, privately. He hadn't invited the others.

"Of course, Akabane-san."

That beautiful, beautiful smile appeared again. "Thank you, Riko-chan." He held out a business card. "Shall we say, six o' clock?"

Riko took the card. The address was one she knew from her parents' anniversary parties; one of the better dining establishments in Tokyo, head and shoulders beyond this place.

"Yes, that's fine." Wonder of wonders, her voice didn't shake. She sounded … poised.

"Excellent. I look forward to it. Ladies, please forgive me. I must go now."

"Goodbye, Akabane-san." Nothing in life – not even the three-week vacation in Hawaii two summers ago – would or could ever top this moment. "I'll see you tomorrow."

---

Perhaps molesting little girls was not as good a phrase as taking advantage of what their parents' wealth had to offer to explain Akabane's interest. Ever since he caught the first scents of the police watching his 'home', he'd been looking for a new place of residence. It was rather unfortunate. He'd been rather fond of that deserted church, despite the leaking ceiling, rotted floorboards, ancient organ pipes that moaned like the souls of the damned in a cool night breeze, and all. He'd even adapted to waking up with a brown titmouse sitting on his… well, strangely appropriate body part.

While taking advantage of the free internet connection (with food purchase, this means you B G as the sign read), he'd stumbled across an email from Riko-chan. She'd happened to casually mention how empty her large house seemed with her parents away on an extended vacation. From his brushes with yakuza "princesses" and well-to-do-clients, he knew the email was intended more to showcase how large her house truly was than bemoan her parents' absence. What had caught his eye, however, was the absence of the parental units. Perhaps he wouldn't be moving back to the sewer drain beneath the train tracks after all.

Of course, the asking required just the right mixture of build-up and wording. No matter how enamored with him the youth seemed to be, he couldn't help but feel that outright asking her to let him move into her house would give her reason to pause. It wasn't that he actually intended to stay there, mind you. He merely needed transitional housing until he could find a better hide-away from the prying eyes of the world. That made maintaining emotional detachment from how much he might break her heart all that much easier. If animals were just protein meant to be used by the living, why wouldn't weaker humans just be stepping stones intended to feed the strong?

To make the asking easier, it was a requirement that he should take her out to a place that would make her feel like a real princess. It was easier to sweep a girl off her feet when she was wearing glass slippers than hiking boots, as he'd heard someone say. Maneuver the girl into the right position and he'd be sleeping on a warm mat with a hot shower to follow the next morning. He was looking forward to using her shower more than having a bed, in all honesty. It was not easy to find a public bath house that allowed tattooed individuals, despite his honest attempts to persuade management that he was not actually a yakuza.

His mind kept wandering back to that comment dear Midou Ban had made about molesting little girls. He didn't will it to, but it did, like the way that a single bad comment could outweigh all the positive critiques an artist might receive. He had no sexual interest in the girl, and wasn't even sure that he would bed her if she threw herself on him. He was a man of taste and elegance above all; a man whose age and intellect made him appreciate a mature partner like a fine wine or aged cheese.

Still…Riko-chan had grown up in the past year, in more ways than one. Her embarrassment and irritation at her friends' behavior had been apparent. She possessed a certain diamond-in-the-rough air that was intriguing. Give her a few years and the proper coaching, and Kanae-san would have quite a rival. Not in a professional sense, of course. Riko-chan didn't have the makings of a negotiator.

He considered calling Kanae-san. At their last liaison she had casually mentioned a potential delivery he might find intriguing. The idea pleased him. Much as he enjoyed the chance to antagonize and terrorize the Get Backers through the jobs Hevn-san offered him, they all too often lacked a challenge.

Kanae-san provided that, in more ways than one, he thought with a vaguely happy smirk dancing on his lips. Pity he couldn't hint at his impending state of homelessness to her. Doing so was out of the question, no matter how much pleasure he took in her intimate company. He would be in her debt, and she would have the upper hand. In his line of work, even the appearance of weakness was to be avoided.

He decided to place a quick call. Merely to check on the status of that job, of course. It wasn't as if he needed contact with her or any such weak nonsense. Akabane had just removed his phone from his pocket when it rang. His lips curled in a hungry smile when he saw the number.

"My, my. Kanae-san. How pleasant -- I was about to call you myself…Why, the delivery you mentioned, of course. I see. Indeed, that does sound enjoyable. Confirm the details in your private office in an hour? Of course, Kanae-san. I shall see you soon. Goodbye."

He slipped the cel phone back into his coat pocket and set off again, whistling. This evening was turning out to be fun, after all.

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