Chapter Four
When Opportunity Knocks
The bright morning sun illuminated the pictures in Sae's hands perfectly. Each was about one second of time from when the window to Representative Tatsu's penthouse shattered to when he hung lifeless from the ledge. Mack, a tall, extremely built black man and contact of Sae's, looked over his pictures with her as she pulled them out of the file. Under the evocative photos was three pages of notes meticulously detailing everything Mack had seen the previous night. Sae glanced at them, though noticed not much more than she was already aware of, until she came upon notes regarding the assassin.
"Look at this one," Mack indicated to the last photo. A silhouette of a lean, athletic man was rushing across a rooftop not far above the angle at which Mack took the photo. Sae scrutinized every detail she could, barely hearing Mack explain what he had seen. "I only saw him for a few seconds as I was taking photos of a restaurant. I only was able to get that one picture before he jumped out of sight. The guy was like lightning, let me tell ya. I think I was the only person on the street that saw him."
"I didn't think yakuza employed ninjas," Sae deadpanned.
"Me neither, but there he is. God knows what kind of training he's gone through to be that skilled. I mean, he killed over ten guys in five minutes. Yakuza don't do that kind of shit."
"Well, it couldn't have been a triad. Tatsu had nothing to do with the Chinese that we're aware of."
"But he was militant against the yakuza in Kansai."
"Exactly," Sae nodded. "He was looking to improve the legislative power against organized crime in Kansai, even with nearly forty percent of people disagreeing with such actions." Sae shook her head, pursing her lips. "It still shocks me how many people think the yakuza are the good guys."
"C'mon, it's a lot more complicated than that. Many people see them as more local, hometown assistance, ya know? Seems like for every one person who hates the yakuza, there's another who was saved by them."
"One good deed doesn't redeem a man of a lifetime of crime. And what if those good deeds were accomplished through illegal means."
Mack looked away, lighting a cigarette. "Just playing devil's advocate, Nijima," he said. "Anyway, you satisfied with what you got though."
Looking over the file again, Sae nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm satisfied." She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of two hundred thousand yen, handing it to Mack.
The photographer ran his fingers along the wad of cash slowly twice, as if counting to make sure the amount was correct. Sae continued to pour over the photos as her contact spoke up. "What do you plan on doing with these? Going hunting?"
"You don't believe I'm just a fan of your work?"
"Nope. I do believe, however, that you've got something interesting cooking in that head of yours."
"I always do. It's a large part of how I got so good at my job. I'm always thinking."
"And what are you thinking about doing with my photos?"
Sae did not respond, but instead simply leaned against the wall behind her and looked down the other end of the street, as if watching for passersby.
Mack did not press the matter further. "Your business is always appreciated," he smirked at her, nodding. "But isn't it a bit… strange that you preach about good deeds through illegal means, and then take my photos and notes behind your boss's back?"
"Yup," Sae snapped back. "I completely agree."
Mack whistled awkwardly, taking a step back. "There's that biting realism. It's always fun to see for myself instead of over the phone."
"Don't you have a plane to catch?" Sae asked in a deflective way.
"I do, though I was hoping to have a reason to cancel it. You know, a bit of wine and dine like last time?" Mack raised an eyebrow, giving her a sideways glance.
Images of their unexpectedly romantic night flashed through Sae's mind. What had started as a routine drop-off on a particularly bad day had turned into a one night stand in a matter of hours. She still kicked herself over being so weak, so susceptible to that little bit of attention when she had been so depressed, but she knew Mack. She knew he was a good man, and he had no desire to hurt her. However, she also knew that it had been just that: one night, nothing more.
"Sorry, Mack, I can't. I've got work to do tonight. I appreciate the thought though, really." Normally such pleasantries were lies to get suitors off her back. This was not one of those times.
As if Mack could sense her honesty, he nodded slowly and took a step back. "Can't blame a guy for trying." He took another puff of his cigarette. "Well, I hope work goes well for ya, at least. And thanks for the consistent business," he nodded to her with a smile. "You ever need any more pictures, just call."
"I know, thank you," she gave a soft smile back. "Safe travels, to wherever you're off to next."
"The Netherlands, actually. Got a real itch to go into the hills, take some landscape shots. It's been years since I've been there and I wanna see if my old photo spots are still as beautiful as they were."
"I'll be waiting to see what you get."
"Thanks, Sae. You'll be the first." Mack blew her a kiss and turned on his heel, walking down the street and whistling to himself.
The policewoman watched him walk off as she lit her own cigarette. She continued to look over the photos, even though she was sure she had extracted every usable detail she could from them. The ability to focus so heavily on her job once again was… comforting, until that focus was broken by a woman's voice sounding off to her left.
"Is he gone?" said the woman. Sae turned her head to see a woman about her age leaning against the corner of her apartment building. The woman had a round face and large eyes framed by a short bobcut. A camera hung from her neck in front of a casual, colorful tee shirt atop her bell-bottom jeans. The woman appeared very excited to see Sae, and equally relieved to be able to step out into the open.
"When did you get here, Ohya?" the policewoman asked casually.
The woman called Ohya chuckled to herself before responding. "I was a bit too excited to get your call this morning, so I rushed on over. Didn't expect the traffic to be so light, so I made better time than I thought I would. When I got here, I heard you talking with your guy and hid; didn't know how sensitive the meeting was."
Ichiko Ohya: full-time investigative reporter, part-time fashionista, part-time barfly. Known throughout Tokyo to be as dedicated to her journalism as she was to her drinking contests, Ohya had quite a colorful yet positive reputation among the pleasure districts of the metropolis. Her stories centering around organized crime and the goings-on of the city's nightlife were highly respected, and thus was how she drew Sae's attention.
Their business relationship would then be finalized over a chance meeting at one of Shinjuku's famous bars.
"He's just a really good photographer, that's all. You know that." Sae motioned for Ohya to come closer, and the woman quickly came to her side. "You didn't need to hide from him."
"The fact that you're not at all afraid of his kind is even more concerning."
"How do you mean?" Sae asked incredulously.
Ohya leaned against the wall beside Sae, crossing her arms. "This isn't exactly legal, Sae, right?"
"Of course, it is. I'm using an informant on official police business. The evidence is going straight to the authorities for the advancement of justice. I'm simply utilizing my level of influence to keep this information in the right hands."
Ohya was about to object, but stopped herself as she pulled out her own cigarette. Sae took the liberty of lighting it for her. "Makes sense, I guess," she admitted slowly.
"What are you so concerned about, anyway? This is what you wanted: I get you a good scoop, you use it to put a spotlight on those in the justice system."
"And don't think I'm not thankful, because I am. Were it not for this stuff, the good shit, my boss would have me running tabloid bullcrap about celebrity love-lives. It's just that, well…"
"What is it?" Sae pressed, growing annoyed with her friend.
"Sae, this is an assassination. Normally, it's loan sharks, or a corporate scandal, or something like that. People died last night. Lots of people. Call me crazy, but I don't wanna get caught in the crossfire in case whoever did this wants to tie up loose ends, because they obviously have the means to do it."
"Ohya, I promise," Sae put a hand on her shoulder reassuredly, "everything is going to be okay, for both of us. We're doing good work, but there's no way anyone can trace the origin of the photos or how you and I got them. Mack's on his way to the Netherlands, for God's sake. All you have to do now is try; try to get the news to report on this incident hard, but without inciting a panic."
"I know, I know," Ohya started to become more exasperated. "Just forgive me for being a bit nervous given the circumstances. We've never done anything like this, Sae."
"But we're still able to do it, even with things escalating." Sae blew out one more puff of smoke before putting her cigarette out. She then looked to the intrepid reporter. "If you can't get them to report on it, then that's fine. I just need to know that we tried. People are far too accepting of the yakuza in this town, and they need to be woken up to how dangerous these people can really be. Every file and photo I pass to you brings us one step closer to that, even if it may only be one person at a time."
Sae paused, her expression growing more dour. "The fact that Kamoshida was killed by yakuza has only increased their reputation in Kamurocho. We tried to repress the rumors, but somehow they still managed to slip through the cracks, likely by those who perpetrated the hit in the first place. The public is beginning to believe we were shown up at our own game, Ohya. That kind of mentality is unendingly dangerous."
Ohya nodded slowly, putting a hand on her camera like a security blanket. "I believe you're right, you know that. But I know what can happen when someone gets in too deep chasing those with this level of influence. So promise me," Ohya looked to her friend with a seriousness in her glare that the normally fun and flighty woman never showed, "if things ever get dangerous for either of us, we back off cold turkey. No ifs, no ands, no buts. I'm not gonna let another one of my friends end up in prison, or face down up the river."
Sae raised an eyebrow toward Ohya, both surprised and impressed by her outburst, though she could not say she failed to understand her concern. "I appreciate the concern, Ohya, and I share it. I'm not putting you in any danger, I can assure you. This is police business, and therefore you are under protection of the force."
"Is there an official file that says that?"
Reluctantly, Sae was unable to respond.
Ohya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'll do my best with this stuff, promise. I'm just making sure you're keeping your nose at least mostly out of trouble. You're doing good work, yes, but it can still be dangerous if you dig too deep. Remember, this is an –"
"Assassin, yes," Sae interrupted, "I'm aware. But at the end of the day, he's still just a yakuza with a higher paygrade. He and his employers must be brought to justice, and this will at least help sway public opinion in Tokyo and Osaka if we can get it on the air."
"You're not curious as to why this attack happened in the first place?"
Sae looked down the street, away from her friend. She finally spoke, her voice as icy as he demeanor. "No, I'm not."
Ohya shrugged her shoulders, only slightly surprised by the hardened policewoman's response. "Well then, if I get some dirt on whoever did this, guess I just won't tell ya then."
"Don't get cheeky, Ohya," Sae smirked back at her. "Just because I don't deem it immediately important to my operation, doesn't mean I wouldn't listen if you did have something interesting to tell."
"Ah, that's more like it! Now get to work, lazybones!" Ohya chided her sarcastically. "I got work to do myself with this bundle of goodies."
"Well, call me if anything comes of it. Just make sure you're sober when you do."
Ohya's excited smile turned to a sour pout. "It was only one time, god," she mumbled.
With that, Sae made her way to the police station as she did every other morning. Apart from witnessing two cars nearly collide when one made a rolling stop onto a busy intersection, nothing of interest or import occurred on her commute.
Upon arriving at the station, she was immediately directed to Commissioner Murakata's office by Kenjiro, who seemed about as unphased by the news as he was by anything else. Sae often wondered what it would look like for the gentle giant to actually get outwardly invested in something. A ghost of a smile creeped to her face thinking about how that would hypothetically look like when she opened the door to the lavish office, only to gaze upon Murakata and Akechi engaging in subdued conversation.
"Ah, Nijima," said Murakata, glancing her way. "I hope the morning finds you well."
Confused, Sae looked between the old man and the young one. The first thing she noticed in the bright morning light pouring through the window behind them was what seemed to be prominent, dark bags under Akechi's eyes. Adding to his tired demeanor was a prominent slouch contrasting his normally stiff, upright posture.
"Sae-san, good morning" Akechi greeted her warmly with a respectful bow.
"Good morning to both of you," said Sae slowly. "I was told you wanted to see me, sir?" she addressed Murakata.
"Yes, quite. Akechi-san is here regarding the same matter, actually. We had only just started discussing it when you arrived."
"This matter is?"
To Sae's surprise, Akechi was the one to speak up next instead of his superior. "Sae-san, I understand that last night's… incident may be at the forefront of your thoughts right now, but recently I have come across some rather urgent, and disturbing, leads here in Kamurocho."
Sae raised an eyebrow at the younger man. Normally, Akechi was a light-hearted, almost obnoxiously optimistic individual. But the young man's tone, his expression, his gaze, were all of the most dire seriousness. "What have you found, Akechi?"
"I was just explaining to Murakata-san that I have come onto the trail of a prominent group of… well… God, it truly is despicable. So much so that I seem to be at a loss for the proper words," he chuckled awkwardly.
"You were present for the Kamoshida case, Akechi," Sae responded coldly. "I doubt this surpasses that in terms of grotesquery."
"Even so, forgive me for maintaining a bit of my innocence, Sae-san. At least compared to yourself."
Sae was trying to find the words to object to such entirely erroneous yet almost admittedly true claims when Murakata spurred Akechi on, saying, "Simply tell her what you told me, kid. You already made it through this once."
"Right. Of course, sir," Akechi said almost sheepishly.
Still a kiss-ass, thought Sae. Better than a dumbass, I guess.
"Well, as I was saying," Akechi continued, "I have zeroed in on the trail of a prominent… organ trafficking ring, Sae-san."
The fact that Sae was more interested than frightened by the admittance disturbed her to some degree. She did not say anything, but instead let the younger man speak uninterrupted.
"There was a recent kidnapping reported about three days ago, originating near Shinjuku. Given that it occurred after Kamoshida's demise and the dissolving of his business, we ruled that out as an immediate possibility. Perhaps a remnant of his group, yes, but when I investigated further, I found that to not be the case. You see, a child was involved in the kidnapping as well."
"A child?" Sae asked, growing even more concerned.
"Yes, a child. Kamoshida was not known to have used children for his projects. Teenagers in rare cases, yes, but the primary victim's young daughter seems to have been kidnapped as well. I've tracked their movements over the last couple days, and I am confident they will be holding up in a warehouse near the docks. Tomorrow, Sae-san, you and I will be attempting to intercept their drop-off, and save the kidnapped victims. I personally requested to Murakata-san that you go with me tomorrow."
Sae instinctively took a step back, processing Akechi's speech. Her mind reeled with a hundred questions, a hundred responses, but she narrowed such a long list down to the absolute essentials. "How did you come about this information, Akechi?"
"My contacts throughout Tokyo informed me that this ring may be present. I had only heard of them through the grapevine before, given that they operate primarily in China and more isolated parts of Japan, such as the far reaches of Hokkaido. But the possibility that such barbarians were about was more than enough to spring me into action. I was remised to allow such an unholy maniac like Kamoshida to run rampant in the city under our protection. I will not allow such a thing to happen again."
Akechi's tone was entirely serious; he glared down his nose at Sae, as if affirming to her his heroically ironclad resolve. The young man spoke slowly, precisely, enunciating and accentuating every critical detail.
Sae turned to the Commissioner. "And you have already approved this operation, sir?"
"I have, yes. As Akechi so eloquently put it, I will not allow this subhuman filth to run freely among the good people of this city. Nothing and no one puts our children in danger on my watch. I will have a proper briefing file prepared by the end of the day. Until then, Akechi-san will be at your disposal regarding any information you may need."
Sae looked back to Akechi, appearing almost shocked. "I wish you would have informed me sooner, Akechi. I could have aided your investigation."
"I'm very sorry, Sae-san," he replied very genuinely. "I actually had considered enlisting your help, but everything happened so quickly, and you were still investigating the Kamoshida incident while I had no concrete leads. It was not until very recently, as I said, that we came across anything actionable. To make up for this, I would be honored were you to accept the position of operational command."
Sae crossed her arms, glaring daggers at both men. "This sounds like a military operation. Are you sure this isn't out of our jurisdiction?"
"We don't have time to call in any higher support," said Murakata slowly. "We must act quickly before more innocents are subjected to their barbarism. I, however, will make absolutely sure that this operation goes through the necessary channels before commencing. That part, you may leave to me. The part that will get on the news, however," Murakata looked Sae in the eyes, the both of them knowing exactly what he meant by speaking with such gravitas, "will be in your hands, Nijima - if you choose to accept it."
Sae looked away from the men, weighing her options. She was not much of a God-fearing woman, but what was happening before her eyes seemed almost too good to be a coincidence. Just less than an hour earlier, she had aided a journalist in gaining information to put yakuza reputation squarely in the public's crossfire, and now here she was being offered command over a heroic operation to do just that again, by her own hands. After being shown up at her own game, she felt… enticed. While her primary concern was, of course, the safeguarding of the citizens and seeing this scum brought to justice, there was a small part of her that felt vindicated by the chance to show these criminals that there is still strength left in the law.
Sae raised her eyes once again, meeting the gazes of the men before her. Slowly, she nodded.
"You don't have to come if you don't fully support the case," said Akechi. "I am certain it will be… dangerous."
"I know," said Sae, her tone becoming dark. "When do we start?"
…
Whisking the toothbrush around in his mouth, Akira stared into the mirror before him. He stared at his reflection, taking in how tired he looked. His eyes drooped, his vision was slightly out of focus, his body was stiff and his joints ached. He had tried to go to sleep without the aid of alcohol the previous night, in spite of the stress he felt regarding the assassinations and the discussion he had with Sojiro regarding his parents. He estimated he had only gotten about four and a half hours of sleep in total.
At least he had managed to get some breakfast in him.
He spat the toothpaste out into the sink and wiped off his face before slowly donning some jeans and a plain gray tee shirt. He was not entirely sure what time it was anymore, nor how long he had spent showering and getting ready for the day. Akira knew he had nothing in particular to do until the evening, so it did not really matter anyway by his reckoning. Sojiro was gone, Ryuji was off doing a delivery for Iwai, leaving Akira with a day to do more or less anything he liked.
To his increasing chagrin, days like this were becoming more and more frequent. Akira would be sent out to work most nights, but in the day, he would be stuck inside, watching television, eating room service and just lazing about. Occasionally, he would hit the town and do some shopping, but Sojiro actively discouraged him from doing so, the reasoning revolving around how it would be poor judgement to let the boy become more known to the public than he already was. Akira did not argue with his assessment, but he still concluded that the isolation did little for his physical, or mental, wellbeing.
Akira quietly hummed a tune to himself along with the radio playing softly in the background as he stepped out of the bathroom, combing a knot out of his hair with his fingers.
Then the phone rang. With a groan, Akira walked to the phone to pick it up. "Yeah, this is Akira," he said with no consideration for pleasantries.
"Kurusu-san," said the receptionist, "there is a guest in the lobby to see you. I was wondering if I would be able to send her your way."
Akira paused, suddenly feeling more awake. "Her?"
"Yes, sir. Takamaki-san is her name. Are you available to see her, sir? She specifically requested that she may be sent to your room."
Ann. "Yeah, send her on up," Akira said quickly.
"Of course, sir," said the receptionist. "Thank you very much."
The receptionist then hung up. Akira was left utterly stunned at what he had just heard. Ann's back, he thought. And she wanted to see me? Akira hung the phone up, a feeling of excitement welling within him until he reflexively looked around to make sure everything was clean and tidy. Upon brief examination, he determined that the state of the room was apt. It was not like he would have time to thoroughly clean before she ascended the elevator anyway.
Only then did he realize that he was wearing short sleeves, and that his scars were completely exposed. The young man knew that Ann was already aware of what he had done following Kamoshida, but he felt he did not presently have the energy to have that conversation again. In a flash, Akira ran to his room and threw on a long sleeve tee faster than he had ever dressed himself in his life, even when he was late for school. He then ran back out into the foyer, controlling his breath and trying to calm himself so as not to look like he had just gone for a run in the time it took Ann to ride the elevator.
The elevator bell sounded off, pulling Akira's attention toward it entirely. The doors slid open, and out stepped the young woman. Her hair was down, flowing past her shoulders in waves like those that crashed against the beach near his home. She wore a casual yet trendy outfit as she carried an expensive pink purse over her shoulder. Their eyes met, Akira's heart beat slightly faster as he took in the fullness of her beauty, for that was the only way he could hope to describe her. No fancy clothes, no abundance of makeup, yet Akira was left still with only way of describing his friend.
Beautiful.
"Hi," Ann said quietly.
"Hey," Akira replied, his voice sounding low, almost hoarse.
Ann put her bag down on the table in front of her, then walked around it toward him. She stood in front of Akira, looking up to him as if silently examining his face. Akira did not know whether or not this was a bad thing, whether she was judging him or looking for a way to begin interrogating him on what he had been doing the past two weeks, but he still could not find the strength to stop her.
Her presence was oddly soothing.
Ann's expression changed subtly, shifting from inquisitive to… sad. She seemed sad as she looked upon his face. Her eyes traveled down his body before settling on his arms for obvious reasons. But instead of asking him about his scars, she simply met his gaze again. "You look tired," she said, almost whispering the words.
"I had a late night."
"I can tell," she nodded slowly. "Have you eaten anything?"
"Yeah, why?"
Ann turned away, taking a seat at the table. "Just checking."
"What, do I look sick or something?"
"No, not really. Honestly, you just look completely exhausted."
Akira took a seat beside her, saying, "I told you, I had a late night."
"Doing what?"
"I was… out on the town. Sojiro and I ended up getting a bite to eat."
"Probably didn't end up being a good decision, huh? You know, with the news."
"Yeah, it broke while we were eating. Really messed up shit, but it's far away from here. We're safe."
"You sound very confident in that," Ann looked at him sideways as if not entirely believing him.
"I am, really." Akira paused for a moment, thinking it best to divert the subject. "What are you doing here anyway, Ann? I honestly didn't expect you to ever want to come back to Kamurocho after what all went down."
"I got a modeling gig for a local clothing outlet here, actually. We wrapped up the first shoot yesterday evening, it was fun. I got another shoot in a couple hours, but figured I'd come up and see if you were in. But, yeah, I really had a hard time accepting the gig, given where it is. But I can use all the exposure I can get, and I figured it would be a good opportunity to… check on you. And Ryuji, of course," she added quickly.
"Well, I appreciate it," Akira nodded. "Still was shocked when the receptionist called me."
"Pleasantly so?" Ann smirked at him.
"Entirely," Akira returned the grin. "I may not sound… or look like it, but I am glad to see you, Ann. Things have been dull without you around here."
"Oh, c'mon, Ryuji surely gives you more than enough excitement." Her tone was becoming slightly more upbeat, her eyes meeting his more often.
"He does, but we mostly interact on business. Only gone out drinking a couple times since the whole Kamoshida thing. We've both been pretty busy." Feeling as if he was then hit in the face with a brick, a new conversational topic dawned on him. "How's Shiho been? Have you gotten to talk to her.
"She's actually doing better, yeah. She's still with her grandparents in Osaka, but I talked to her a couple days ago on the phone, and she said she'll be moving back to Shibuya in a couple weeks. She's still a bit rattled, but I was so happy to hear her back to her normal self so quickly. She… usually needs more time when something reminds her of past trauma. That's just how she is. I guess she really has gotten a lot stronger."
"I don't blame her, after what she went through. I'm really glad that she's okay though. Next time you talk to her, tell her I'm glad she's doing well."
"I will, promise," Ann smiled. Her gaze then travelled upward along his face, inspecting something above his eyes. "Hey, Akira, when was the last time you got your hair cut?"
"Wait, huh?"
"Your hair. It's looking pretty scraggly, if I may be so blunt. When was the last time you cut it?"
"Um, about a month and a half ago now, I guess."
Ann nodded, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "That's what I guessed. Well, if you'd like, we could continue this conversation while I trim your hair a bit. Not to be rude, but it kinds needs it," Ann smiled at him.
Akira was entirely surprised by her candor. Self-consciously, he ran his fingers through his hair as if to confirm for himself that what she had said was true. He had known for about a week that his hair was getting longer, especially by how his bangs now fell over his eyes when he neglected to gel his hair. "You got experience with this kind of thing, Ann?"
"I may not be a salon beautician, but I can spruce it up for you no problem," she nodded. "And my rates are unbeatable for friends."
"How much would that rate be?"
"First one's free every time," Ann smirked, walking past Akira toward the bathroom.
With a shrug, Ann followed her, taking a chair with him. The main bathroom was more than large enough to house the chair comfortably, and Akira took a seat slowly. He had always been very proud of his full, thick black hair – one of the primary sources of compliments he tended to receive. And this sense of pride made him very particular about who he would allow to cut his hair, on top of making him secretly terrified of ever losing his hair to male balding. While Ann was untested by him, she seemed confident as she gathered up the necessary tools: scissors, an electric razor, pomade, hairclips.
"I'm not gonna do much styling," she said. "I'm not that experienced with men's hair yet, but I can still shape it up to look less shaggy."
"What? It doesn't make me look like a rock star?" Akira joked lightly.
"It does, just not the type of rock star you want to look like. You're starting to look like one of those underground druggy types," Ann ran her hands through his hair like an experienced stylist, getting a feel for thickness and texture. She whisked the layers around, travelling from the top of Akira's head to his neck.
"Maybe I'm going for that look. Ever think about that?"
"No, because I know you're not," she quipped back, smiling confidently.
Akira could not argue with her assessment.
"Now, let's spin you around and wet your hair a bit. Won't need to do much since I can feel it's already damp."
They did as she said, holding Akira's head under the faucet. Ann moved his hair about to help the water get deep into his layers, the movements acting as a slow, soft head massage for the man. He closed his eyes both to keep water from getting in them and to simply enjoy the feeling of her soft hands playing with his hair.
He had nearly forgotten how much he liked it when a girl played with his hair, as it had been so long since such a thing happened last. The feeling was calming, soothing; it quieted his distracted, addled mind.
"God, your hair is so thick," said Ann, lightly grabbing a handful. "I mean, you obviously have a lot of hair, but I didn't know it was this much hair!"
"Is that a good thing?"
"Yeah! Most guys don't have much hair to play with, they usually keep it short or just don't have a lot of hair to begin with. But Akira," she turned off the faucet, starting to dry his hair with a towel, "you have a ton of hair, and it's really healthy too! It's soft, smooth, lush… I know lots of girls I model with that would kill for your hair!"
Akira smirked proudly as he looked into the mirror, seeing Ann admire his hair as she dried it. "Believe it or not, every stylist I've ever had has said more or less the same thing."
"I'm not surprised. Your hair is honestly beautiful."
"Wow," Akira looked away sheepishly, "thanks, Ann," he said in a hushed voice.
"Just calling it as I see it," Ann smiled to him in the mirror. "Now, as much as it will pain me to do so, it's time to get some of this bulk trimmed up," she held out to handfuls on either side of his head, fully showing Akira just how much his hair had really grown. "This won't take long, promise."
"I'm not going anywhere, it's alright. I got time."
Ann picked up the thin pair of scissors and started to snip at the top of Akira's hair tepidly, getting a feel for how best to trim it. "You mean you're free today?" she asked.
"Until tonight, yeah. Got an important errand this evening, but until then I was mostly just gonna be working out, maybe hitting up a store or something."
"And this errand… is for Sojiro?"
"…yeah."
Ann nodded slowly, picking up a hairclip to hold some of the bulk back as she trimmed the back of his head. "Why haven't you gone home yet, Akira?"
While his eyes had hitherto been watching her in the mirror, Akira's gaze fell to his side at her question. "I have a job to do, I guess."
The rhythmic snipping sounds of the scissors slowed slightly as Ann tried to meet his gaze, though was unable to as the young man seemed to be avoiding that very thing. "You guess?"
"Yeah, basically. It's complicated."
"I'm sure it is, but… what? Is he keeping you hostage here or something?"
"No, not at all."
Ann stopped trimming his hair for a moment. "Then why can't you go home?"
Akira pursed his lips, glaring to the floor before meeting Ann's eyes once again in the mirror. "Ann, I've killed a man."
Ann's concerned gaze grew angry in the blink of an eye. "And saved many lives in the process, including mine."
"No, I didn't," Akira said sternly. "He was already taken care of, he just taunted me into… finishing it."
"And what? Do you honestly expect yourself to have acted perfectly rationally in a bad situation like that?"
"No… maybe, I – I don't know," he gritted his teeth.
Calming herself a bit, Ann lowered her hands to her sides, looking at her friend in the mirror. He was pale, his eyes were dark, and she could have sword his cheeks were slightly gaunt compared to when she last saw him. She was frustrated at his obstinance, yes, but far moreso did she pity the situation he found himself in. "Akira, may I see your wrists?"
Akira's eyes widened in a way almost fearful. "What?" he whispered.
"Your wrists. I'd like to see them."
"Ann, I don't know about this."
"Akira, please," she pleaded with him, putting her hands on his shoulders. Her touch sent a tiny jolt through his body, and while he pondered on the many reasons he loathed the idea of her seeing his scars, he figured that she had already seen them before, so what harm could one more time do?
Wordlessly, Akira pulled back his sleeves, letting Ann see the scars over his shoulders. He watched her in the mirror as she studied his arms, and he felt disgusted by the image of this beautiful, kind young woman looking upon the reminders of his greatest personal and moral failure. That disgust showed on his face as his expression contorted into one of sadness and remorse.
Ann did not gasp at the sight though; she hardly emoted at all. As her face was right next to his, she looked over every detail of his scars, taking note of how some were fresher than others. "Some of these are new," she said.
"By about a week."
"How many times have you done this?"
"Once since you left. About five days ago."
"That's good. I'm glad it's only once. I wish it was zero times, but still."
Akira met her eyes once again in the mirror. "You're taking this rather well."
"I hate that you've done this, but it looks like it hasn't gotten much worse. These new scars aren't nearly as deep as the… first time."
"Honestly, I was too drunk to do it right last time. But it was the fact that I was drunk that got me to do it in the first place."
"I see." Ann crossed her arms over her belly pensively. "Do you remember what happened the first time? When I found you?"
"Only a little bit… just some images, sounds, feelings. Not much, honestly."
Ann nodded sadly. "I remember all of it."
Akira raised an eyebrow her way. "What do you remember?"
Ann breathed out slowly, deeply, before speaking. "I remember seeing you standing over the sink, the blood coating the basin. You said something about a monster, but I was honestly so shocked that I didn't hear it clearly. I tried to pull you away from the sink but you got… defensive, angry. It took me a couple minutes to coax you out of the bathroom. When I did, you were in such a daze – you were mostly just mumbling to yourself as I wrapped your arms in wet washcloths, cleaned your wrists with rubbing alcohol. Occasionally, you'd talk again about a monster, and sometimes said something about your family, especially your mom. You were apologizing over and over to her, you barely even noticed I was there until I hugged you. Then you woke up a little bit, realized I was there… That's when you started crying."
Akira blushed in both embarrassment and bafflement at her story. "I remember parts of all that, just a few images mostly. God, I'm so sorry for putting you through that, Ann."
"Why? I was trying to help. I didn't think any less of you, and I still don't. You were caught in a horrible situation and had no idea how to deal with it." She put her hands back on his shoulders, rubbing them lightly. She smiled softly to him in the mirror. "It's alright," she said, but then her smile faded. Her comforting expression waned into one of grief. "Just don't do anything like that again. Ever."
Akira closed his eyes, lowering his head. "I'll try."
"Try your damnedest, Akira. And not just for me. You think Ryuji would be any happier about it? Or your family? When you go home, you want to go back a proud hero. One mistake doesn't mean you can't go home if your family really does love you. You already won one battle, right? You can win this too. I believe in you."
The slightest ghost of a smile appeared on Akira's face as he listened to her words, then a full grin came after that as she hummed along to the radio.
"That's why I'm easy," she sang softly as she began trimming his hair again. "Easy like Sunday morning." Her voice crooned quietly, washing over him like a siren. Akira's shoulders dropped as he relaxed; he breathed slower, deeper, easier.
"That's why I'm easy," he sang in turn, causing Ann to giggle. "I'm easy like Sunday morning."
They softly sang the whole rest of the song to each other, happy for the conversation to be diverted to something far more pleasant. For the next twenty minutes, they sang along with the radio as Ann trimmed up his hair. When she ran the last bit of gel through his locks, Akira looked in the mirror to see a much more shaped up, sleek looking version of himself staring back. He smiled at himself, enjoying the sight.
"So, what do you think?" Ann asked, her sunny smile beaming. "A one hundred percent improvement, right?"
"One hundred ten percent," Akira nodded.
"Thank you! I think you look awesome! Real classy rock star look. Thank you for letting me cut your hair!"
"Thank you for doing it, and doing it so well." He turned around in his chair, grinning up to his friend. She looked on her handiwork with glowing pride.
"You have a really handsome face, Akira. You don't need to hide with your bangs."
"I'll remember that," he nodded, standing to his feet. Looking back into the mirror, he shifted his head around to take in every angle, feeling very satisfied with the man staring back at him. So satisfied was he that Akira felt a new wave of confidence well up inside him. "Hey, Ann?"
"What's up?"
"When I get back from my errand tonight," he turned around, looking her right in her big, blue eyes, "would you like to get dinner?"
Ann's eyes widened in surprise, but the image of the man she had spruced up standing before her only made her feel more proud of her styling skills. Her surprise turned to abject excitement. "I'll be waiting," she smirked. "Just don't keep me waiting too long, hotshot."
"I'll do my best." Akira also did his best to hide the overly proud excitement he felt tingling in his gut. "Now, how about some breakfast?"
With a bubbly grin, Ann made her way to the kitchen straight toward the freezer to procure some waffles, with Akira in tow.
Easy like Sunday morning, he thought to himself.
