Tokyo. Shibuya.
The broken- toothed little man was lisping an apology into the night air, but Kogata was in no mood to listen.
"…and I wathn'th thinking thraighth afther thath basthard thucker punched me." The man, Kenji, peered up hopefully through his thin spikes of blue hair. And ventured a small, apologetic grin. "You unerthan, righth, buddy?"
Kogata grinned himself, but it was the expression that an Inquisitor might show to the one standing on the tinder. "Sucker punched, my ass! What the hell were you thinking?" Kogata moved his head down, pushing his face close to the other man. "A former girlfriend of Saiga- sama and you manhandle her?"
The man's sallow cheeks puffed out in indignation. "Wath the problem? We were thold to collecth the debth and I wanthed to make thure thath she couldn'th run." His black eyes flashed. "You thaw the guard she had! Thath's more than Thaiga- thama was expecthing, righth? Bethideth…" the man, Kenji, said with difficulty, "…I'th been thrying tho sthow more enthuthiathm in my work. My athrologer thaid thath ith the key to thusher succeth."
Kogata's eyes widened, and then narrowed sharply. "Future success, eh?"
"Yeeeeeeeaaaahahhhhhhhh!" Kenji's response was attenuated by the speed with which Kogata grabbed his shirtfront and pulled. He held his erstwhile partner up against the alley wall, the smaller man's feet dangling above the wet and trash- strewn street, as the reflected neon and LED lights blazing nearby scrawled alien alphabets into the puddles around them.
"Kenji, I thought maybe, perhaps, there was some potential for you in this business…" The big bald man dropped his head and shook it dejectedly. "… unfortunately, it requires a bit of intelligence, some good judgement. Qualifications you've proven you lack. And…" he growled, dragging his other hand across his cheek, "…you've been spitting on my face since the moment you opened your mouth." He threw the smaller man into a particularly noxious pile of garbage. "Here, this will improve your chances of future success better than anything you've done up to now." He turned and walked away. "Jerk- off."
Kenji tried to stand, slipped and fell deeper into the garbage pile. His shaking fist appeared between several plastic bags, and then the middle finger extended. "Thucker!"
Konaga continued on his way to his appointment with Saiga – sama. He dreaded the meeting. He strode through the tiny parking lot of the Azabu Market on his way towards Hiro Crossing, rudely making the harried valets work around him as they shuffled expensive automobiles around at breakneck speed. No one protested, not with his bruised and bloodied anvil of a face. Embassy gaijin were stacked four – deep to get through the foreign – goods store before the doors shut for the night. It looked like tonight's vehicle of choice was the Mercedes.
His blood- shot eyes narrowed at the pain of his headache. Saiga – sama. This was going to thuck. Ah…suck. He smoldered as he realized that Kinji – douchebag's lisp had already subverted his thoughts. Thushermucker!
He switched to the other side of Hiroo Shopping Street to avoid the jets of water the street cleaner was spraying, striding past the brick – shaped Bank of Japan branch and Meidi Ya Foods. There was a hell of a commotion down at Arisugawanomiya Park and a cop ran past the back- lit columnar façade of the Plaza and down the street, mouth glued to his radio handset. Konaga kept his head up and walked on by, his lips lifting only slightly as the distracted man of the law received an ankle – high dousing by the cleaner.
Soon enough, Konaga was standing in front of his personal hell on Hiroo Shopping Street: 'karaoke corner.' Hiro Saiga loved karaoke, always revving up a night out at Smash Hits or AidorU or URAStar JP, but the attractionof such activity was beyond his own understanding.
He was recognized by Saiga's boys on the street and pointed towards AidorU. Instead of a bell on the entrance, a cheesy digital sample of Queen declaring how they would, they would, rock him pierced his ears as he walked beneath the club signage and entered through the smoked glass foyer. He understood that much English, at least. Shith. The staff took one look at his face and immediately directed him over the shag carpet, past the high backed, button- upholstered pink vinyl booths and geometric pastel LEDs of the large main customer area and through the brushed steel rubber- edged double doors into the smoke- filled VIP Lounge.
There seemed to be a large man convention in the Lounge, with Saiga's boys and more than a dozen other bulky men that Konaga didn't recognize as "businessmen" or local law enforcement, but who were definitely a single party. Several men in the group were wearing jackets embroidered with a three- sakura emblem that plucked at his memory. He thought they might be military, to a man they looked like tough bastards. There was a tense vibe in the room as the two crews eyed one another, the performances and over – loud laughter couldn't disguise it.
Well, all his boys were doing was singing, tonight. And, speaking of singing…
Sagai – sama was on the light- struck stage, his lanky frame in a brown tweed double – breast, a matching pork – pie on his head. As the rotating stage – lights passed over him the golden ankh on his dark tie gleamed like a beacon. His eyes, however, remained fully shadowed behind his shaded lenses. He was crooning Dean Martin's "Everybody Loves Somebody, Sometime," with two young women sandwiching him at the waist, his pinky raised from his grip on the wireless mike.
As the last lyrics hit the air, he raised his arm and let it fall in a dramatic sweep. "Thank you," he smiled as his boys applauded and then covered his mouth with his hand for a moment. He kissed the two women on each cheek. The one with the cat tail rubbed at her nose and when Sagai looked away she exited the stage. The black- bowed maid kept her manicured hands firmly on his tweed, her crimson lips locked into a smile.
Sagai handed over the microphone and exited the stage with a bounce, the maid in his wake. Spotting Konaga, he gave a small grin and indicated a nearby booth with a jerk of his chin, then swept up his female friend in one arm and whispered in her ear. She nodded and thudded away in her thick- soled black boots towards the bar, apron strings trailing behind her. Konaga grabbed a chair from a nearby table, placed it before the booth and sat down. Sagai patted his shoulder heavily as he swiveled his body into the booth to face him.
"My friend, my friend…" he smiled, and removed his glasses. His dark eyes, for now, were concerned as they took in the bigger man's visible injuries. He took off his hat as well and placed it on the table top. "…did my lovely Fox take exception to your visit? She hasn't forgiven me for what I did to drive her away… whatever it was…and took it out on you?" He twitched his head to the side to clear hair from his eyes, raising his eyebrows to underline his frank and amazed interest. "What the hell happened to you?"
Kogata cleared his throat. "Saiga- sama, I succeeded only partially in the task that you appointed to me." He reached into his pocket and removed the roll of bills he was carrying. "Three hundred seventy seven thousand, seven hundred and seventy seven yen."
"Now, that's an odd amount. Kitsune had that much ready for you out of what she owed?"
"Not exactly." Kogata took a breath and began to relate his encounter with Kitsune and with Steve Seyama at the Café Hina. Hiro Sagai's face flushed when he heard of the actions of Kogata's partner.
"Idiot! Whoreson! Kogata, take two…"
"I've already spoken with the fool." Kogata interrupted, gently.
"You didn't kill him, did you..?"
"No, no… actually, Seyama- san beat him quite severly, there was little I needed to do to add to his discomfort. I merely explained to him that his services would no longer be required within the organization." He rubbed his smooth head and grinned. "I believe he'll be considering his mistakes during the many hours he'll be spending in a dentist's chair."
His boss nodded curtly, and then cocked his head. He turned his head to the stage and Kogata followed suit. Three of the largest men in the group bearing the three – cherry – blossom symbol were on stage, belting out a song in English the likes of which he had never heard. Their companions were standing in their places at various tables, singing along. It was no pop – tune, more like an anthem. The two men watched in interest as the song concluded and every singer's glass was raised. The shortest of the large men on stage made a final comment into his microphone, glasses were slammed to tabletops and the three men left the stage.
"I'll be damned," Sagai commented with a bemused smirk, "if I know what that yatsu just said. What's up with that?"
Kogata shrugged. The honest and off- key voices he'd just heard sounded better to his ears than the standard saccharine melodies he usually suffered through. Not something to say out loud.
The other man sighed in response. "Doesn't matter. So, I'm sorry, this 'Seyama – san'? The big man you said was with my sexy Fox?" Sagai indicated Kogata's injuries. "Did he…"
Kogata nodded. "He beat me unconscious…"
Sagai- sama grunted in surprise, his jaw tightening.
"… and then with Kitsune brought me to the Café and helped to treat my wounds." Kogata reached into his jacket and removed the green ceramic tokkuri and sakazuki Kitsune had given to him, placing them onto the table. "We shared sake." He shrugged mountainous shoulders. "I must tell you that it was an understandable reaction after Kenji's mistake. I hold no grudge, he was honorable to the extreme."
"Oh." Sagai's eyebrows rose again. "And, the money…?"
"His, provided on Kitsune's behalf as a gift. She was as surprised as I was and attempted to refuse."
Sagai was silent for a while, his face settling into neutral lines and his eyes losing their candor. He studied Kogata, who sat patiently under the examination. Finally, he leaned forward, one eye obscured by the fall of his hair. Both hands lay flat upon the tabletop. "And what's your real take on this, my friend? I trust your judgement as my eyes."
"Your chances at reuniting with Motoko Konno romantically have been reduced to zero…"
Sagai pushed himself backwards and slapped his palms together in annoyance. "Well, shit…!"
Kogata continued. "…however, your chance of getting back the money she owes you has never been higher."
Sagai grimaced. "It's not the money, my friend. Kitsune makes my blood boil, with her sexy hot body and her need to raise hell… and the fact that you can have a conversation with her!" The grimace settled into a small frown as the lanky criminal crossed his tweed – clad legs and moved his hat so that it sat upon his knee. A long finger tapped his lips. "Crap." He grimaced again and belched, holding a hand over his lips.
Wasabi. Thought Kogata, thinking of Kitsune and surpressing a smile. Thushing nasty wasabi.
Sagai waved with his other hand. "And this other man… he must be pretty formidable to do what he did. Did Kitsune… shit, you did say zero, didn't you?" He rubbed his face in his hands. "Ah, hell and damnation." He shrugged, and replaced his glasses. "At least I'll get my money back.
"Already, this is more than you expected."
"Yeah, yeah… it was good to have some connection to her, even though…" The thin man shrugged again. "We had some good times…"
"She said as much… she mentioned your time together."
"Ahh!" His boss smiled in delight. "She feels the sorrow at what could have been." He replaced his hat and lowered the brim appropriately with a smooth thumb – and – forefinger snap. He waved to the girl in the maid outfit, who had been orbiting the bar and glancing over for the last several minutes. She smiled brightly and started a heavy – footed trek back to his side.
"I'm sure…" Kogata answered, neutrally, "that's exactly what she was thinking, Sagai – sama."
"Her loss. I'm buying a Lotus. She was always keen on my wheels, heh." He winked in a decidedly smarmy manner and began to walk away, then halted and turned back to look at Kogata. A chesire – grin slowly curled his lips. "My friend, I've just had a great idea for our next performance… inspired by your beautiful face…!
Oh, shith!
Kogata had no choice. At Sagai- sama's insistence he was pressed up onto the stage and his role in the next performance was defined. To his gigantic embarrassment, a guitar riff started and his boss announced to the room: "This is the Eye of the Tiger!" Hiro Sagai and his maid then launched into the song by Survivor.
Kogata waited painfully for the guitar at every chorus and then, as he had been directed, thundered "Dum. Dum – de – dum. Dum – de – dum. Dum – dum – dummmmmmm." The pastel – colored LEDs seemed to waver before his eyes. It was incredibly awkward, although the audience seemed to think it was quite funny. Especially the cowbell at the end, not part of the original song, one of Sagai's 'improvements.'
Then, mercifully, it was over.
The maid exited the stage. Sagai – sama covered his mouth with his hand and belched. He turned to Kogata and inclined his head. "Great job, my friend." Obviously he thought that Kogata's grimace was one of modesty at the compliment. He signaled Kogata to get closer with a flick of the wrist. "Say, are you going back to see this Steve Seyama character when you go to get the remainder of my money from Kitsune?" The words echoed around them, and Kogata realized that Sagai had not turned off the wireless mike dangling from his fingers.
"Sagai – sama!" He reached out and removed the microphone from the hands of his boss, thumbing the on / off and bowing slightly. "It looks like we've got some defective equipment here!" He said loudly. The stage manager, horrified that such comments had been amplified, nodded vigorously.
Sagai's mouth gaped in surprise at his gaffe, but he recovered quickly and rounded on the manager with a nervous jerk. "Next time, make sure that this equipment works properly! I don't want my words to be, ah, wrongly interpreted…"
"Yes, sir." The attendants scrambled. Eyeing the audience, Kogata could see that several of the men wearing the sakura emblem were conversing animatedly and casting glances towards the stage. Shith, just our luck if they're slumming NPA Security Bureau or Vice. The maid attempted to glom on to Sagai - sama and he sent her to the bar again. She clomped off, eyes sharp as knives.
Kogata and Sagai re – seated themselves at the booth. "Those guys are really getting agitated." Sagai commented, sotto voce behind his hand. He removed his hat and placed it on his knee as he continued to monitor developments at the other table across the room. "Oop, someone just got 'angry dragoned' and isn't happy."
"I've been watching." Kogata made himself grin and waved over Hayakawa- san. When the the bowling – ball of a man with the buzz cut presented himself, Kogata made a big deal of locking him in a 'friendly' choke hold. Through his clenched teeth, Kogata whispered "Something could happen with those other guys with the cherry blossoms, everyone watch their backs, no one goes to the shitter alone… make no move until they do!" He finished with a loud laugh, released the other man and pushed him playfully away. Hayakawa – san took a moment to dramatically straighten his suit, laughed and walked back to his table, where he put his arms around the men there and began talking urgently.
Kogata yawned and stretched his arms out widely. "I'm exhausted… I'm too old for this shit." Sagai – sama winked at him, then stiffened.
Kogata looked over his shoulder as one of the other group, the shorter man who had made the final comment on the microphone during their last song, pushed back his chair and began an approach. Kogata made eye contact with Hayakawa – san and shook his head.
The man was very broad in the chest and his nose had a decided cant to the left. He had the pale lines of several small scars marring his tanned forehead and the back of one ear was folded forward slightly. His eyes below his unibrow were calm. He stopped perhaps six feet from their booth and bowed, a bit more deeply than was called for. "Forgive the intrusion on your evening, gentleman." He said in a rough but surprisingly cultured voice. "But I was hoping that you could answer a question…?" He tilted his head and smiled suddenly, large hands opened upwards. As he smiled, Kogata felt some level of familiarity with him and his eyes narrowed. His eyes shifted to Hiro Sagai, who was disguising his apprehension with a casual pose.
Sagai shrugged slowly and pulled his glasses down on his nose so that his eyes could be seen. "What question, my friend?"
"Forgive me, but I believe I heard you say a name a moment ago, a name I'm familiar with. Did you say 'Steve Seyama?'"
Sagai – sama leaned forward, pose forgotten. "I did say that name. Is he a friend of yours?"
The other man's face became serious. "We, " He indicated his companions with a thumb, "heard that he was in Japan. We've been hoping to see him for some time." He smiled again, but there was much less good cheer in the expression. "Could you describe him to me, so that I can make sure it's the same man?"
Sagai looked at Kogata, and then the other man did as well. Kogata cleared his throat. "A big man, larger than me, taller than any of your friends. Very muscular, especially around the shoulders and neck. Black hair, green eyes, speaks with a kansai accent." He paused to gauge the man's reaction: he was extremely intent on the description.
When it was clear that Kogata was done, the man raised an eyebrow. "Was there any indication you got that this Steve Seyama was an American?"
"American!" Sagai – sama's hands hit the table loudly, making everyone jump. "Oh, sorry." Sagai stood and held his arms out. "Everything's okay, my bad!" He sat back down, grimacing. "An American!" He said, again, not liking the taste of the word. "No wonder she likes him. Shit."
Kogata and the other man exchanged glances and shrugged. The man raised a hand and barked a name. A young – looking man, one of the slimmest in the sakura – wearing group, leapt to his feet and ran over. The new man thrust a hand into his pocket, and suddenly the room was full of sounds as men leapt to their feet and chairs fell over. He pulled out a cel phone, raised his head innocently and looked around at the commotion. Kogata sighed as the sudden tension dissipated.
The first man crooked a finger at the other, motioning his head close. When the slimmer man leaned forward sufficiently, the other whacked him softly across the side of the head. He turned to Kogata and inclined his head towards his fellow. "This is Cherry," he said, rolling his eyes, "he's an idiot."
Kogata said nothing.
The man looked at Cherry and said, "Call him."
"Here?" Cherry replied, his eyes roving the club, incredulous.
The man's eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
Cherry stiffened and nodded. "I'll call him right away!" He ran back to his original table, where he was struck across the head again when he sat down. He began to dial feverishly with one hand, rubbing the impact point vigorously with the other.
"My name," the first man said, extending a hand Western style, "is Miuchi, Tak Miuchi." The name again touched a familiar place for Kogata, but he ignored the feeling and took the man's hand, naming himself. Miuchi introduced himself to Sagai – sama as well. Sagai, feeling more comfortable, called for his maid.
"Kogata? They call you 'Tiny?'" Miuchi's eyebrows rose and Sagai snorted at his expression.
"It's an 'in' joke. I prefer not to have my real name known."
Miuchi – san shrugged, then winked. "Whatever… " He turned to Sagai. "Anyway, Cherry is calling a man that we were hoping you might speak to…"
"About Steve Seyama? The possible American?"
"Ah, yes."
"And how long do we need to wait?" Kogata asked.
"Not long, I understand he's in the area tonight."
Kogata and Sagai exchanged glances. Sagai, suddenly enfolded from behind in his woman's embrace, smiled unguardedly. He pointed at Tak Miuchi. "It's going to cost you, my friend…"
Several rounds later, Cherry quivered next to the table, leaned forward and told Miuchi that the man had arrived. Cherry pivoted to go, but was called back to the table. Miuchi motioned him to lean closer and the younger man squinted in expected pain. Miuchi patted him gently on the cheek, however. "Good job, kid…now show the old bastard in. Bring him right in here."
Cherry's smile nearly split his face in two and he rushed across the room and out the door. Miuchi shook his head and laughed. "Oh, what a cherry…!"
After a moment, the double doors opened and Cherry ushered an older man into the lounge. As one, Miuchi – san's group stood and, confused, so did some of Sagai – sama's men. The old man looked around, his face neutral, then spotted Miuchi and began to walk towards their table. The man was over sixty, his hair cut short and completely silver, his face tanned and set in strong lines and crow's feet, chin projected forward to the extreme, seemingly past the tip of his prominent nose. His carriage was straight, his build stocky, and he was dressed in a three- piece blue pinstripe with a crimson school tie.
"Tak." The man said, his eyes flickering over the group, lingering on the maid for a moment. "Yukio," his eyes shifted to Cherry and back, "said that Steve Seyama is in Japan?"
"Yes, sir. Tiny here," The older man's eyes widened slightly as he understood Miuchi meant Kotaga, "gave me a description that I think matches the gaijin's." The elder frowned and Miuchi quickly concluded. "I wouldn't have bothered you, otherwise."
The man was silent for a moment, and Kogata realized that the entire lounge had gone quiet. "How did the meeting go, sir?" Cherry asked, startlingly loud. Miuchi rolled his eyes.
The old man shifted his stance and looked at Cherry, who began rapidly to fidget. The silver – haired man relented, then, and scratched at his nose. "Our sponsors are not happy with us, Yukio. The meeting went poorly."
"Oh." Cherry said, deflating. The old man shook his head and turned back to Miuchi. He reached into the breast pocket of his blazer (such was his charismatic power that not one of Saiga- sama's boys flinched) and withdrew his bill- fold. He opened this and extracted a folded photograph, which he handed to Miuchi. Miuchi unfolded the photograph and gazed at it, his brow clouding.
"Is this the man you met?" He said finally, and placed the picture in front of Kogata. Sagai extricated himself from the maid's embrace and moved to look over Kogata's shoulder.
A sweaty Steve Seyama smiled up from the photograph, slightly slimmer but easily recognizable in a shot that captured him from the waist up. He was dressed in a dirty and stained uniform, stars and stripes prominent on the shirt, a patch featuring an eagle over the left breast. He was wearing a close- fitting white helmet that allowed only a shock of black hair over the forehead. He had his arms over the shoulders of two similarly attired and disheveled men of close to his own size.
Kogata raised his head, his gaze traveling across the faces of those at the table. "This is him."
Tak Miuchi sighed strongly and took a mouthful of beer. Cherry closed his eyes and looked ready to faint. The old man's expression did not change as he regarded the photo from upside down. Then he turned and said, voice raised, "It's him." He turned back to Kogata. "Where is he?"
"Hinata."
"Hinata… and how did you meet him?"
Kogata related the circumstances around his trip to Hinata and the result. He felt no need to lie to the old man. He had recognized the uniform that Steve Seyama was wearing. The men wearing the three – sakura emblem were not affiliated with the police at any level, and the familiar tugs at his memory were now in a recognizable pattern. He smiled as he realized just what he had encountered earlier in the day, how he had been overpowered.
"Seyama – san used the money that he had to provide a partial payment on the debt to my boss," he inclined his head to Sagai – sama, "owed by the woman."
The old man was silent, considering the information. "I should be disgusted." He grated. Then, startling, he smiled, revealing strong yellow teeth and a light in his dark eyes. He again pulled out his billfold. "This is what I will do." He said, with great conviction.
Kogata nudged Sagai – sama with his elbow. When the old man explained himself, Hiro Sagai was intrigued, despite himself.
Meanwhile, the maid began to flirt with Cherry.