Chapter Five
Sweet Like Hellfire
The sun was setting over the Kamurocho skyline. Pinks, oranges and blues flowed across the sky like an oil painting as Akira exited the leBlanc hotel. Dressed in a slick black suit with a white undershirt, undoing the first two buttons to show off his collarbone and chest, he strutted outside onto the bustling sidewalk. With his hands in his pockets, Akira made his way over to a parked limousine to his left. To his surprise, he saw a thin framed, long-haired man in a royal violet jacket smoking a cigarette as he stared into the sky contemplatively.
"Akechi?" Akira asked as he approached.
Akechi turned to him with a friendly grin. Akira noticed a golden chained necklace adorned his neck, and an equally golden watch was worn on his left wrist. Akira had seen some gaudily dressed yakuza in the last couple weeks, but Akechi's appearance was somewhere between a pop star and a prince. "Ah, Kurusu-san," Akechi nodded to him. "Right on time, unlike our other companion."
"You mean Ryuji?"
"Indeed. I was told Sakamoto would be joining us, and I was rather intrigued to meet him. However, he yet alludes me. I have never met the gentleman personally, but I have been informed as to his… eccentric personality."
"He's a bit hotheaded, yeah, but he's honestly a great guy, Akechi. He'll be around any second –"
"Hey, guys!" called the voice of Ryuji from down the sidewalk. Running toward them was Akira's friend and comrade, wearing a suit more fitting of a clubber than a traditional yakuza, especially when it came to the trilby he wore on his head and the wide chain on his neck. Panting, Ryuji stopped right in front of them, hitting himself on the chest to catch his breath. "Sorry for the wait, got hung up with Iwai. Geez, I used to be able to run that distance literally no sweat back in high school," he wheezed, forcing himself to stand straight. "Oh, hey, Akira! Wait, did you get a haircut today? It's, well, actually done for a change."
"I'll ignore the last part of that comment and just say yes," Akira said sarcastically. Ryuji's comment may have been scathing, but the truth often was.
"I've never seen it slicked back before. It looks goon on ya," Ryuji gave a toothy grin and a thumbs up.
"Glad you appreciate it," Akira touched his hair on reflex, feeling a bit sheepish.
"Sakamoto, I presume?" Akechi raised an eyebrow at him, almost appearing disapproving.
"Yup, that's me, man," Ryuji pointed to himself with his thumb proudly. "And I'll bet you're Akechi Goro then?"
"Indeed. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Sakamoto-san." Akira noted how Akechi seemed far less enthusiastic to introduce himself to Ryuji than previously with him. "Now, our hosts are waiting on our arrival as we speak, so shall we continue our introductions in the car?"
"Sounds good, man," Ryuji said casually, walking up to the door. "Man, this is the shit!" he exclaimed as he opened the door. I ain't never been in a limo before!"
"Compliments of the Kuze clan, Sakamoto," said Akechi.
He then looked to Akira awkwardly at their companion's exuberance. "Not all of us eat a dictionary for breakfast every morning, Akechi," Akira joked at him, smirking smartly.
"Touche, Kurusu-san," Akechi shrugged, not at all offended by the jab at him.
The three young men got in the limo, taking their place on the leather seating that made Akira's wallet feel lighter in his pocket even though he was paying for none of it. In front of them, a gangly man wearing pitch dark sunglasses at night turned around quickly to address them. "Ready to depart?" he asked in a dark, raspy voice.
"Indeed, Maurice," said Akechi, looking out the window at the pedestrians across the street. "Make it snappy, will you?"
Maurice groaned, supposedly in agreement, and the limo pulled out of its parking spot. Driving down the road slowly to avoid the bustling pedestrians walking about in the Kamurocho night life, the limo garnered many stares of abject envy for its lavishness. The windows were tinted to the point of being nearly opaque on the outside, so no people could see the three young men watching the envious bystanders go by.
"This is so fucking cool," Ryuji beamed, feeling like a king among peasants as he looked out the windows. "God, I wish I could travel like this every day!"
"Your enthusiasm indicates a short tenure with the Clan, Ryuji," Akechi glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Is that true?"
"I mean, it's only been about a year, yeah. I guess I don't get all the crazy assignments like you must get, Akechi. I mean, you barely even cared that we got a freaking limo to take us to the club."
"Well, this isn't exactly my first time in a limo, I admit." Akechi's self-important poise was apparent to both younger men, and Akira silently admitted to himself that he was starting to find it slightly annoying. "Nor is it my first time attending The Gates of Hell."
"Wait," said Akira, "I thought we were going to some joint called Tough Love. What's The Gates of Hell?"
"Yeah, man!" Ryuji added. "I've been to Tough Love a couple times myself, I know what it is. Did you snort a line or something before meeting us?"
Akechi chuckled into his hand, a devilish grin appearing on his face. "Oh, my friends you shall see shortly, I assure you."
Akira and Ryuji looked confusedly to each other as the limo continued on for seven minutes before stopping in front of an unassuming small club on the southeast end of Kamurocho. The building was extremely plain, with nothing but a small sign lined in neon to indicate what it was. One would probably not even guess that Tough Love was much more than an underfunded bar going out of business. Even Serenity seemed more upscale than this, at least by Akira's reckoning. There were only two people, a couple about thirty years of age, going inside when they arrived, and Akira was left entirely unimpressed.
Ryuji scratched his chin as they watched the two pedestrians walk by. "Would've thought Kitagawa-san would roll out the red carpet for us somewhere a little more lively. I mean, I've been here twice before. It's probably the smallest bar in Kamurocho. Isn't this a bit underwhelming?"
"What you perceive with your eyes, Sakamoto-san," said Akechi as Maurice opened his door first, "can often be very deceiving. In this city more than any other I've been to, what we see on the surface will likely be something of a ruse."
"Um," Ryuji looked to Akira confusedly, "what?"
"Come along, if you please," said Akechi in a tone that was more indicative of a babysitter than a coworker.
With a quiet groan, Akira exited the limo alongside Ryuji. He straightened his jacket as Akechi took the lead into Tough Love, opening the door to the ding of a small bell overhead. Inside the bar was little of note. There were only four tables in the small room, and the bar itself resembled a kitchen counter more than anything. In the far corner was the smallest karaoke setup Akira had ever seen – just two tiny speakers and a shelf of stacked CDs less than a meter tall.
At the bar, the elderly bartender cleaned out a glass as the couple they had seen outside talked in hushed tones. He seemed lost in thought as a small AM radio played next to him. A woman calling herself "The Deb of Night" spoke in a deep, sultry tone as she discussed the music selection for the next hour and advertised her call-in advice segment coming up in twenty minutes. The bartender glanced at the three well-dressed young men standing in his doorway then placed the clean glass under the bar before letting out a long yawn.
"Well, he seems happy to be here," Akira whispered to Ryuji.
"Oh, he's always like that," his friend whispered back, slightly louder than Akira had. "He talks less than any bartender in the city, but he makes a mean cocktail."
Akechi straightened his lapel properly before beckoning the other two boys to follow him. They came upon a door next to the karaoke station that Akira had guessed to simply be a supply closet. Upon closer inspection, he saw a slide panel at eye level near the top of the metal door. Akechi raised his left hand and knocked on it three times, then four, then two. After a moment, the panel slid to the side slowly, and Akira saw a pair of eyes staring back at them. One eye was a deep brown, and the other was a milky gray. "Password," said the man in a raspy, elderly voice.
"No," Akechi replied flatly, his jaw clenching.
The old man on the other side seemed very annoyed by Akechi's candor, but then nodded before sliding the panel back. A quiet metal thunk sounded off from the other side of the door, and thus the door slid open silently. On the other side was a slouched over, elderly man with a wide chest and metal baton strapped to his belt. He motioned for the three men to enter, and Akechi took the lead as usual. They then found themselves in a metal corridor, pipes and general building infrastructure lining the walls.
"Whoa," Ryuji commented, "I had no idea what that door was before."
"You've seen nothing yet," said Akechi, putting his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. "Trust me."
Akechi's smugness was not lost on Akira and Ryuji as the old man led them down the corridor. They soon came upon an ominous, gray elevator door with a keypad to its side. The old man pressed six numbers into the keypad with blistering speed, followed by an innocuous ding as the elevator door slid open. Faintly, barely audibly, Akira swore he could hear music coming from somewhere below.
"So, this is how we enter The Gates of Hell?"Akira asked as they entered the elevator.
"Precisely, Kurusu-san. I do hope you have at least a little faith in me."
Akechi gave the old man a nod, which was reciprocated before the old man slipped away back down the corridor. Akira and Ryuji stood at either side of the older yakuza as Akechi pressed a button on the elevator panel labeled "C".
Akira nodded as he was now certain there was music coming from beneath them. A driving bass and drum beat was barely but definitely audible from what he guessed was a few floors below. "Ah, 'descending into hell'," he made air quotes with his fingers, speaking with a deadpan tone. "Clever."
"Remember to mind the heat," Akechi remarked with a smirk.
The door slid closed and the elevator quietly, smoothly descended. Akira could hardly feel the elevator's movement, but he knew they were going down because the music was quickly getting louder. He and Ryuji looked to each other, with Akira looking more concerned than Ryuji, who appeared both confident and excited. Akechi, however, kept his gaze forward, his eyes low and brows raised. Akira could swear his face naturally tended toward some degree of smugness.
A moment later, the elevator door opened, and before them was a small corridor, lit only by faint red and orange candles set on the floor along the walls. The candles gave off a strong earthy aroma, which Akira assumed to be some sort of drug given how pungent the aroma was. At the end of the hall was a door, crossed on its front by two long chains, and guarded by an imposingly large bald man of dark skin, wearing a long black coat over his suit and pitch dark sunglasses on his face. Akira and Ryuji both gulped as they could feel his gaze falling on them immediately. As he did, the very air around them seemed to go still, though Akechi, of course, was entirely unphased.
"Good evening, Gerald," Akechi greeted him casually.
"Mr. Akechi," Gerald replied with an expressionless nod. His voice was deep, heavy, as if the very sound carried weight. "The Master is expecting you. Your table is waiting."
"My compliments to the Master," Akechi bowed his head with a slight grin. "My companions and I are eager to conduct business with him."
"Hmm," Gerald groaned, looking between the two younger men. Ryuji crossed his arms, looking down his nose at the bouncer, while Akira only clenched his jaw and straightened his back. He felt as if Gerald was probing them for weaknesses and shortcomings, and Akira felt a natural inclination to prove him wrong.
Gerald then nodded again slowly, and took hold of the iron door handle to his right. The handle made a loud clunk as it was turned, and Gerald then opened the door slowly. Rock music began pouring out of the doorway in greater clarity. "Enjoy your evening," said Gerald.
"Thank you very much," said Akechi before turning to his companions. "Come on, we're expected."
The three yakuza walked past the bouncer, with Ryuji ending up closest to him. Gerald watched his every move from behind his shades, and Ryuji could nor repress the shiver that crawled up his spine as the bouncer silently scrutinized him. Akira found it humorous, though was silently thankful that he was on the other side of Akechi at that time.
As they walked through the door, they were greeted with a large club-like environment, lit up ominously in deep, fiery reds and oranges. There was likely about one hundred people present, by Akira's reckoning, crowding the tables in front of the currently empty large stage. Above the stage was two cages hanging from the ceiling, with busty women in leather lingerie (though given how much skin was shown, "lingerie" may have been a strong description), danced far more provocatively than any other club Akira had seen. They ran their hands over themselves, focusing primarily on their crotch areas, and appeared to be outright masturbating themselves as they girated and danced. Microphones were also hung above them in their cages, broadcasting their sensual words and moans all throughout the club.
"Oh, why must you be held from me," the girl in the right cage called to the girl on the left, making her words sound as lusty and sexual as possible. "I need all of that right now, baby!"
"And it will all be yours soon!" the other girl called back exuberantly. "Master will set us free when we are through being punished, and I shall be yours again as long as you need!"
To Akira's further confused, and shamefully arousing, shock, the girls then seemed to begin truly masturbating for each other from their cages to the overt delight of every man and woman watching.
The club was decorated with infernal, fittingly hellish fetishes and furnishings. Artwork resembling sexually charged death metal albums were showcased on the walls like an art gallery. The furnishings were of a gothic design, with pointy, jagged edges contrasting the lavish upholstery the patrons sat on.
The waitresses wore similar clothing to the girls in the cages. That being, barely anything at all. Akira did notice, however, a certain universal fascination for leather and latex present throughout the club. One girl with a particularly developed behind on almost total display walked by the three young men, deftly carrying a platter of expensive drinks. She winked to them as she made her way to a nearby table that erupted into cheers as she approached.
"What the fuck is this?" Akira whispered to his companions.
"I would say 'heaven'," Akechi replied, "but I feel that would be inappropriate." Ryuji was too distracted to respond. "This, my friends, is mine and many others dirty little secret." Akechi turned to face the younger yakuza, a genuinely excited but mischievous grin shining on his face in the red and orange lighting. "Welcome to 'Hell'."
While Ryuji eyed every waitress like a starving dog in a deli, Akira did his best to maintain his composure, reminding himself every few seconds that he had a date after his business was done. But reminding himself of such a fact proved difficult as another hostess approached them, wearing a more covering, but still deliberately enticing, occult perversion of a nun's outfit. "Greetings, gentleman," she crooned in a deep, seductive voice. "The Master has prepared a table for you right at the front of the stage. Please, follow me. The show will be starting shortly."
"Thank you kindly," said Akechi, walking up to her side. To Akira's abject shock, Akechi then groped her butt hard as she led the way. As if sensing Akira's disapproval, Akechi looked back to him with a devious smirk as the hostess simply giggled to herself.
Akira nudged Ryuji in the arm to attempt to get his attention. His reaction was delayed, but it worked. "What is it, man?"
"I have a really bad feeling about this."
"Oh, it's okay, man! You're just sheltered. You gotta break out of your shell a little!"
"Have you ever been to a place like this, Ryuji?"
"Well, no. So I plan to do just what I said," he locked eyes with a passing hostess, tipping his hat to her in a way Akira almost found endearing, but not quite, "and break out of my shell a little."
Akira sighed and shook his head as they came upon their table. The hostess pulled out a chair for each yakuza and bowed to them. "The Master will be with you momentarily. Please feel free to peruse our menu while you wait."
"We appreciate it, thank you," Akechi nodded with an innocent smile that immediately faded as he turned to Akira. His expression turned judging, but somehow amused. "Are you perhaps offended by my actions in some way, Kurusu-san?"
"Just taken by surprise," he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.
"It's called confidence, my friend. I'd suggest investing in some. Keep in mind that you are directly employed by the organization that owns the organization that owns this establishment. You, gentlemen, are capable of doing whatever you could possibly desire here and anyone involved will simply ask if you have had your fill. The same, of course, goes for me as well. So, Akira – can I call you Akira? Yes, I believe so – I would advice you to take a note from our companion, Sakamoto, and let go of your personal inhibitions a little bit. Trust me, whatever it is that stokes your flame, no one will judge nor care save that you are satisfied."
"And I'm not here for that kind of entertainment, Akechi," he glowered at him, growing more uncomfortable by the minute.
Akechi raised an eyebrow at him, then slid back in his chair, raising his hands. "Alright, fine. I apologize. I was simply trying to inform you as to how this establishment is run. I meant no offense."
"I know, it's just…" he trailed off upon realizing that any excuse he could give would only be more embarrassing.
"You're not used to it, I know," Akechi nodded. "This is sort of like trying to run before you can walk. But rest assured," Akechi leaned forward again, looking Akira dead in the eyes, "you're not alone here. Trust me."
Akira was at a loss for how to respond to that when a man abruptly took a seat next to him, causing the young yakuza to jump. Now lounging in the seat to his left was a tall, lanky man with unkempt, messy hair sticking out from his head. He sported a goatee under his callow, lazy smile, and was dressed in a tee shirt with a bleeding heart on it and a leather jacket with the words "ASK NICELY" written on the sleeve.
"Ah, my best boys of the evening!" the man blurted out, raising his hands in the air. "Good to finally have ya all here. Akechi," he held out his hand, "it's been too long, man."
"Likewise, Vincent," Akechi shook his hand with a friendly smile. "Sorry for being a stranger, I've been very busy in the last couple months."
"Ah, fuck, man, so have I! Especially the last couple weeks, damn! I mean Suguru Kamoshisa as I live and breathe starts picking up and ganking girls in this town, meaning I gotta start hiring extra protection for my girls. And then out of the fuckin' blue I hear that some small-town kid charges into the base of operations of one of the biggest bastards in the adult industry, and puts the asshole on ice! Man, talk about excitement!" Vincent then looked to Akira, who was secretly wishing he could call his mom and have her pick him up to take him home. "You're that kid, aren't ya?" Vincent asked casually.
"What?"
Vincent slapped his knee and loudly guffawed. "God's honest truth, it is you! Man, talk about an awesome night!" Vincent slapped Akira on the shoulder while still smiling giddily. "Let me tell ya, man, my girls and I had one hell of a party in your honor when we heard the big news. I almost called up the Boss to invite ya over for it, but I knew he was awfully busy, so I didn't bother him. However, now that you're here, we can make up for it! Hey, Marsha!" Vincent called to a passing waitress, dressed in a playboy bunny outfit. "Four 'Scalders' if ya would, please!"
"Right away, Master!" 'Marsha' bowed and walked off, practically bouncing with glee, causing her bosoms to bounce in time as well.
"Ah, I love that girl," Vincent remarked as he watched her walk away. He noticed Ryuji watching her intently as well. "You love her too, buddy?" he asked.
Pulled out of his daydream, Ryuji sputtered out, "Huh? Me?"
"Yeah, you, blondie!" Vincent smirked. "You like her?"
"I mean, she's really hot…" That 'confidence' Ryuji and Akechi had commented on seemed to be draining from him.
"She's off waitress duty in one hour if you want me to set up an appointment."
Ryuji's eyes bugged out to everyone present's amusement. "Uh, well… Oh, man, that's a generous offer, but, uh, I think I'll have to pass – uh, sir! I mean, we're here to talk shop, right? Probably should get on with that."
Vincent raised an eyebrow and then shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you ever wanna try a bit of that forbidden fruit, though, members of the Clan get VIP treatment around here. You guys scratch my back, I scratch yours." Vincent rubbed the back of his neck and cracked it; this combined with all his other ideosyncracies effectively betrayed all of Akira's preconceived notions of what the manager of a club like this would be like. He expected some tough as nails, steely yakuza type who would never let anyone near his girls without the highest of premiums, but instead here sat Vincent, reclining in his seat and acting like they were all long-time drinking buddies.
"I must agree with Sakamato-san on that though," said Akechi. "Sakura-san has been informed of Kitagawa-san's current circumstances, and we are here to help in any way possible, Vincent."
"Hell yeah, you are! You brought along hero-boy, for god's sake," he nudged Akira in the shoulder, who then scooted his seat a few inches away from the flamboyant rockstar-like manager. "Kitagawa appreciates you getting here so quickly, and also apologizes for not being present himself. Important business, as usual. Always tied down with something, man. Anyway, what all do you boys know about the situation?"
"Only that there is one," said Akechi. "We were hoping you'd be able to enlighten us."
"And I plan to, but only after eat, drink, and watch the show." As if on a cue, Marsha appeared at the table and set down four orange drinks in tall, ornate glasses. The drink resembled a lava lamp, and Akira wondered just how they were able to make the different substances float in such a way. "Your drinks, Master," she said to Vincent before kissing him on the cheek. "Enjoy, all of you!" She ran a hand through Akira's hair as she walked away, and the boy was remised to admit that her touch was not unpleasant.
Her hands were especially soft.
Vincent raised his glass with a wide, beaming grin. "To your health, boys!" he proclaimed before taking a long swig of the concoction.
"Here, here!" Ryuji chimed in as he and Akechi began drinking their "Scalders". Akira took one sip, and felt as if his tongue was on fire as his sinuses were cleared in a second. The drink burned, but not like coffee or coco. He found it difficult to describe, but the flavor was intense, invigorating, and warmed him up from his toes to his head. He was only able to take a couple small sips at a time, and wanted no more than that to be in the right mindset for his plans later, but he did enjoy whatever this "Scalder" was.
"Vincent," Akechi spoke up.
"What's up?"
"Is Catherine performing tonight, by chance?"
From behind his glass as he continued to drink, Vincent nodded confidently. "Indeed she is, buddy! You've missed her, haven't ya?"
"I'm sure that is entirely common around here," Akechi smirked as he took another swig of his drink.
"Everyone misses her when not around her, Akechi. Even me, though I'm hardly ever away from her for long. That girl, oh man," he said wistfully, looking to the stage.
Ryuji nearly spat out his drink as a revelation dawned on him. "Wait, you guys mean that Catherine!? I thought she was just a myth!"
"Depends on who ya talk to, man," Vincent replied smugly. "To most, she is just an urban legend. But here, she's as real as I am. In fact, it's pretty lucky that you guys came tonight. One of her bandmates may be of interest to you guys."
"Who's that?" asked Akira.
Vincent waggled his eyebrows at the young, endearingly serious man. "The next best thing to Kitagawa-san, hero-boy. That's why I wanted to wait until after the show to talk shop, he'll be available then."
"Ah, he's here tonight, is he?" asked Akechi.
"We get too many requests for him to not be here, man! It's a bitch trying to fit performances into his schedule, but when he can make it, my girls and I bathe in money at the end of the night!"
Akira rolled his eyes, becoming more closed off. "Are we done playing the pronoun game, guys?"
"Sorry, hero-boy," Vincent joked, "I just wanted him to be introduced to you properly, and you're about to get one hell of an introduction."
Vincent snapped his fingers in the air, and the lights in the club dimmed as spotlights shown on the stage. The hum of stage monitors rang out through the hall as the crowds began to cheer. Vincent hooted and hollered, with Akechi calmly nodding to himself. "Showtime, boys!" Vincent shouted over the table as he stood to his feet, waving his arms in the air.
The lights of the club then went out, only illuminated by a few candles. The stage went completely dark, but Akira could faintly make out the curtain being raised. A sultry, seductive, enticing, evoking, sensuous female voice flowed through the club like a siren's call.
"Step inside,
Walk this way,
You and me babe,
Hey, hey!"
The stage came to life, illuminated in an instant by spotlights. There on raised platforms was junky-looking bassist, a tough and roudy drummer, a redheaded girl dressed in lingerie and devil horns playing an electric guitar, a black-haired girl dressed similarly, and a gaunt, pale young man of about Akira's age playing a lead line on his electric guitar hypnotizingly effortlessly. His blue hair shown vibrantly in the spotlight, his clothing was simple, largely uninteresting compared to the gaudy outfits worn by his companions. He seemed far less emotive than his bandmates, but his fingers flew across the neck of his guitar with an ease and precision that only came from years of practice.
But then, walking out onto the stage, there appeared a young woman with short blond hair, dressed in a dainty but sensuous camisole, strutting out onto the stage with a particularly evocative sashay to her steps. Her movements as the song introed flowed like water; she threw her body around the stage with precision and grace, seemingly in a spiritual harmony with the familiar tune. Ryuji cried out in excitement and stood to his feet as did so many others. Akechi clapped along to the driving beat, Vincent headbanged like a megafan at a metal concert, and Akira had no idea what to make of it, save that this hellish angel was singing one his favorite songs.
She put her microphone on a mic stand at the front of the stage, her eyes lowered into a seductive glare out into the crowd, and as she continued to gyrate and dance in perfect syncronicity with one of the hottest hits of the previous year, she sang.
"Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on
Livin' like a lover with a radar phone
Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp
Demolition honey, can I be your fan-ta-sy?
I'll be your fantasy, baby.
Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' I flash a little light
Television lover, baby, I can go all night
Sometime, anytime, sugar you sweet
Little missy innocent sugar me,
Yeah, yeah!"
The whole crowd was entranced by her amazing performance, and Akira found it difficult to focus on the other bandmembers as the singer began to feel herself up as she went into the chorus. "WHOOO! CATHERINE!" Ryuji cheered to his side.
"Now c'mon, take a bottle, shake it up
Break the bubble, break it up
Pour some sugar on me!
Ooh, in the name of love
Pour some sugar on me!
C'mon, fire me up
I'll pour my sugar on you!
I can't get enough
I'm hot, sticky sweet
From my head down to my feet, yeah!"
The crowd was electrified, shouting out every lyric with her in a way almost religious as the drums pounded and the guitar blared. Upon concluding the chorus, the siren before them got to her knees with mic in hand, and moaning directly into it, began to rub herself under her panties. Akira had thought the crowd could not get any more excited. He was proven very wrong.
Like a light switch, her demeanor turned in a second away from her pleasure to her music. Singing the next verse, she crawled on the stage toward their table, staring directly into Vincent's eyes, before to his utter shock, meeting Akira's with an enticing, succubus smile.
"Listen, red light, yellow light, green-a-light go
Crazy little woman in a one man show
Mirror queen, mannequine, rhythm of love
Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up!"
She leaned over the edge of the stage, inches from Akira's face.
"Loosen up for me, baby," she whispered into the mic.
She raised herself to her knees, jutting out her pelvis in front of the boys as she ran her free hand through her hair, never breaking eye contact with the dark-haired young yakuza. Akira's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"You gotta give a little, squeeze a little
Tease a little more
Easy operator come a knockin' on my door
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet
Little missy innocent sugar me, yeah,
Give a little more, baby doll."
Getting up to her feet, Catherine strutted back and forth along the stage as the whole club sang along. The following chorus received even more raucous and enraptured reactions from the crowd, and Akira found himself watching the talented but strangely understated guitarist as they approached the solo. He was even more interested as the band brought down the energy to a slow, steady beat as they came out of the chorus, and the lights focused on the blue-haired guitarist.
He started playing a staccato rendition of the main riff, gradually building into a more complex, hypnotic line. Catherine came up behind him and covered her eyes with his hands before kissing his cheek and ear. Akira made out the slightest hint of a smile before, with eyes still completely covered, the guitarist let loose a furious onslaught of shredding and finger-tapping along the neck of the guitar. The crowd went ballistic as he played one of the most complex solos Akira had ever heard completely unable to see anything he was doing.
Catherine began planting kisses on his face more and more as his shredding increased in complexity and intensity, sending the crowd into a hyped frenzy. Vincent threw the "rock on" hand symbol into the air, shouting proudly in support of the young man. Ryuji and many others followed suit, Akechi clapped and shouted "Brava!". Akira then found himself moved to cheers as well as the young man climbed to the highest register of the guitar in a dizzying climax to his solo, before the whole band crashed into one gigantic final chorus.
"C'mon now, shout it out!
Pour some sugar on me!
Ooh, in the name of love
Pour some sugar on me!
C'mon, fire me up
I'll pour my sugar on you!
Oh, I can't get enough!
I'm hot, sticky sweet
From my head to my feet, yeah!"
One minor outro, and there was the drum crash as the whole band proceeded to improvise, drum, shred, and play their hearts out for thirty more seconds. The drummer filled and rolled at lightning speed, the backup guitarist and keyboardists sang out the root chord in perfect tandem, the lead guitarist shredded like his life depended on it, and Catherine headbanged along so hard and fast she could have been mistaken for being possessed by some spirit of rock 'n roll itself. The crowd stood to applaud the entire time, shouting and cheering as the band showed off for no more than posterity and the love of the music.
Then all went quiet for the briefest moment.
"SHA!" shouted Catherine. And thus, the final hit rang out through the club, and there was not left but applause from all, including Akira. The band took their energetic bows and waves, save for the blue-haired guitarist, who simply held his guitar at his side and bowed deeply, respectfully, as if he had just made a workplace presentation before they all exited the stage.
"Hell yeah!" Vincent shouted as they finally took their seats. "That's my girl! That's daddy's girl! The most beautiful angel in hell, am I right, boys?"
"She's freakin' amazing!" Ryuji exclaimed, eyes alight with excitement. "They all were amazing! Man, I'd pay good money to see them do a full show! Wait, do they do full shows, Vincent?"
"Occasionally, though they had to cut this one short since the four of us have other business to attend to, and Prince Guitar up there is going to be involved."
"Wait," added Akira, "you mean that amazing guitarist is a Kitagawa?"
Vincent chuckled to himself before standing to his feet. "I'll let him introduce himself personally. Come on, we're headed for my private lounge," he smirked confidently as he led them away.
Getting to his feet, Ryuji whispered to Akira, "This is one of the most awesome nights of my life! These babes, that song, Catherine! I feel like I've been missing out big time not knowing about this place sooner!"
Akira could not help smiling in some small degree of agreement. "Honestly, you're right. This place is pretty cool."
"Don't you ever get excited over anything, Akira?"
"Yeah, I do."
Ryuji lowered his brows at Akira's flat response. "Fuck you," he snided. They both laughed jovially at that as they were led to another door in the back of the club.
Vincent pulled out a key linked to his belt and unlocked the door. Opening it revealed a small, dimly lit lounge with three couches, two beds, a large television in front of the wall lined with raunchy posters, and tucked away by the bed at the far side of the room, a shelf of BDSM gear. Akira felt it best to avoid further interaction or acknowledgement of such items.
"Welcome to my personal corner of Hell, boys," Vincent flamboyantly held his arms out as they entered. "Everything you could possibly want, and everything you had no fuckin' idea you wanted, all on tap here like soda!" Vincent took a seat on the couch, sprawled out and relaxed, with his guests sitting across from him in less fraternal manners. "Anyone want more to drink? A couple babes? A couple guys? Your call, boys."
"I believe that will leave us a tad to distracted, Vincent," said Akechi.
"You guys really gotta come by when not on business," Vincent produced a small bowl of marijuana from under the couch and began rolling it in a piece of paper. "We would have so much more fun, totally guaranteed." He proceeded to hold the marijuana in his mouth and light it. Moments later, the distinct stench filled the room, and Akira was wondering whether he would need a shower and change of clothes before his next appointment so as not to conjure any unpleasant questions with Ann.
Outside the door, the men heard a new wave of raucous applause erupt from the club, and the door was unlocked and opened quickly. In walked two figures, Catherine and the Kitagawa boy, waving to their adoring public. Upon closing the door, Catherine turned to her guitarist. "That was so badass, man!" she exclaimed jovially. "You seriously killed it tonight!"
"I appreciate it," the boy replied. Akira noticed his voice was deeper, smoother than he had expected, given he seemed to be no older than himself. "You were exemplary as well, though that is unsurprising."
"Oh, gosh, you're too sweet," Catherine batted her eyelashes at him. "And way too proper. Would it kill ya to use some slang from time to time?" The boy simply raised a confused eyebrow at her. "Oh, whatever," Catherine shrugged, turning to the other men. "Did ya like the show, boys?" she asked with an innocent, girlish tone.
Ryuji was outwardly enamored with the image of the rock idol standing before them, and Akira had little more than a nod before Akechi spoke up. "You were enchanting as usual, Catherine. I missed hearing your voice dearly."
Catherine's eyes widened excitedly as she focused on the older yakuza. "Akechi! You're back!" She rushed over to him in his chair, sat on his lap, and they proceeded to kiss each other on the cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Where the hell have you been, baby? It's been so lonely without you!"
"Business is killer, darling. I've been at my wit's end pulling all-nighters for god knows how long now. But never has a night gone by where I did not think of you and your voice."
Smooth, thought Akira.
"Oh, always the charmer, aren't you?" Catherine batted her eyelashes at him. "I saw you in the crowd and just had to say hi, but then I spied another little fly caught in my web," she turned to Akira with a confident, devilish grin that took him completely off guard. Unbeknownst to him, his surprise was painfully apparent on his face, which Catherine thought to be saccharinely adorable. "Let me guess," she stood to her feet and walked over to Akira, bending down in front of him until he could feel her breath on his lips, "you're the legendary hero-boy that stopped those big, bad men, huh?"
"H-how do you know that?" Akira tried not to stammer.
"I hear everything that goes on in this city, little boy. I've heard plenty of tales of some little yakuza hero wandering into big, bad Kamurocho and cleaning up the place a bit. Though I must say, you are a bit smaller than some have described you," she ran her fingers along his chest, smiling wisely down at him.
"I don't even really know what these rumors are," said Akira sternly. "I just did what I had to to save my friends."
"Oh, so modest," Catherine crooned, then sitting on Vincent's lap who took the opportunity to immediately and shamefully grab and hold onto her butt. "But where are my manners? I totally stole the spotlight from our benefactor," she motioned to the young Kitagawa, standing stock still by the door in a way almost uncanny, dissociated from his own surroundings. "Don't be shy, baby. They're friends."
The young man walked up to them and bowed deeply, his blue hair falling over his face. "Good evening," he spoke in a proper, delicate articulation. "I am Yusuke Kitagawa. Daijiro Kitagawa, patriarch of the Kitagawa family is my grandfather and primary benefactor of this establishment. While my grandfather is sadly indisposed and could not be present tonight, he wished for me to make known that he is very thankful for Sakura-san's continued support in these trying times." Yusuke then took a seat next to Akira on the couch, folding his hands in front of him and sitting perfectly straight.
He really seems nothing like a rock star, thought Akira, looking him up and down. Hell, he's practically like a robot.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kitagawa-san," said Akechi with a nod. "And may I say before we begin, your performance tonight was simply stellar."
"Thank you kindly," Yusuke bowed his head again. "I am pleased it was able to move you so."
"More than that, it was simply rousing. Is that not right, gentlemen?" he addressed the younger yakuza.
"Hell yeah, bro!" Ryuji pumped his fist with a smirk. "You're totally sick! Like, the kind of sick that deserves to perform with Van Halen!"
"Your compliment is most appreciated, sir," Yusuke spoke in a complete monotone, leaving Ryuji without any idea how to respond.
"Uh, yeah, well, you're welcome… I guess."
Yusuke nodded and turned to Akira. "Is it true that you are the one who fell Kamoshida?" he asked apropos of nothing.
"Uh, yeah, I am," Akira said before visibly twitching for the briefest flash.
"Are you alright?" asked Yusuke.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just… the drink, you know?" he lied.
"Ah, indeed."
What a weirdo, thought Akira.
Yusuke turned to address all present, even as Vincent and Catherine began slowly making out in front of them. "I will take up little of your time, I assure you. The matter is, in fact, rather murky, so I lack many clearer details. The bottom line is that my grandfather's business partners have come across some unsettling developments down at the Kamurocho port."
"What sort of developments?" asked Akechi. "Your family controls the port uncontested."
"True, but we recently came across a shipment containing trace elements of cocaine, which we do not engage with, coming through our channels. A single delivery truck seemed to have been transporting the drugs to another location in the city completely under our noses. My grandfather's men however did not discover these trace elements until after the shipment had been delivered, though they were able to find the driver."
"An undercover element?" asked Akira.
"Indeed. A newer hire, only had been there four months. He seemed to have been colluding with another outfit to transport the cargo using our Family's business. We do not adhere to normal federal regulations, so sometimes we will be hired to transport more elicit goods. This, however, was never catalogued in our ledgers, meaning it was smuggled using our ships. The undercover agent informed us of where the truck was heading, though."
"Did the mole have anything else to say?" asked Akechi.
"No, he did not. One of our enforcers tried to make him talk, but he had stowed a cyanide pill with him and killed himself before he could be made to talk anymore. All we know now is that there is someone who has managed to use my grandfather's business for his own personal smuggling. With the aid of Mr. Vincent and some other contacts in the city, we have been attempting to track down where the truck was headed that night."
"And that's when Vincent swoops in and saves the fuckin' day!" Vincent loudly praised himself, giving a Catherine a deep kiss on the mouth in celebration. "Listen, we got one lead so far, and it looks like there may still be time to kick this guy's ass and get his snow. With the always incomparable aid of the Sakura-clan over the last week, we've tracked one particular asshole to a warehouse complex uptown, thanks to some business ledgers we procured that appear to have been falsified. It was hard to tell though, there were hardly any mistakes in the ledger, but you know what they say, 'No honor among thieves', and we paid a warehouse worker to steal last week's ledger. That's when we set up this little meeting."
"What sort of mistakes were made?" Akechi asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"They claimed that a whole damn truckload of insulation was moved from the docks ten days ago now, but there was no such history catalogued with the Kitagawa's. The idiot we payed off didn't know shit, but even he had sense enough to know something fishy was going on. We've got the location you can scout out for clues already pegged down. 4424 Naro Alley, Uptown. About twenty minutes north by car."
Yusuke then turned, surprisingly, to Akira instead of Akechi. "Will you gentlemen, as representatives of the Sakura Clan, be willing in aiding us?"
"Isn't that already decided?" Akira asked incredulously.
"Apologies, I am merely being polite."
Akira just could not get a handle on this guy. "Uh, don't sweat it, bud."
"Thank you," Yusuke said politely.
Akechi then spoke up. "The Sakura Clan will take care of everything. Please inform your grandfather that we will be handling it immediately."
Yusuke got to his feet and bowed. "Your generosity is just as my grandfather described it. He will be most pleased to hear that."
"And just like that, we're fast friends!" Vincent proclaimed. "How some drinking and some fucking now that we're all caught up?"
"As generous as that offer is," Akechi stood up and straightened his jacket, "I'm afraid I will have to pass. I have other business to attend to tonight, though I do not speak for my companions here."
"I have to leave as well," said Akira. "Got another appointment coming up, and I don't wanna be late."
Ryuji looked far more torn than his companions, but spoke up a moment later. "Well, if everyone else is clocking out, guess I am too. Iwai worked me like a horse today, and I don't think I have it in me for a proper orgy tonight."
Vincent and Catherine shrugged in perfect unison. "Suit yourselves, boys," he said. "But you better leave on more fun terms next time, you hear?"
"I will do my best," said Akechi, bowing to their host. "Thank you for the hospitality, Vincent. Gentlemen," he addressed his companions, "shall we?"
"Guess so," Ryuji shrugged disappointedly before giving Catherine a wry smile, which she immediately reciprocated before winking at Akira. He smiled back at her with a small sense of pride as the rock goddess noticed his unassuming, boyish form.
A bouncer led them to the back of the club to another elevator. A moment after, they ascended to an empty hallway in a completely different building than the Tough Love bar they had entered from. To their right was an opaque, metal door locked from their side. "Last one out, lock the door," said the bouncer before using the elevator once again. Akechi walked up to the door, slid the padlock to the side, and on the other side was just another Kamuorcho back alley, abandoned save for the old garbage bags at the far corner.
"Well, gentlemen," Akechi said with a friendly smile, "thank you for accompanying me tonight. It was quite an enjoyable evening, I only hope that I was able to provide a good impression for Vincent and his establishment."
Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I honestly don't know what to think quite yet. It was… a lot."
"Kind of overwhelming, really," said Akira.
"A very common reaction, believe me," Akechi grinned. "I apologize for any unpleasantness you may have experienced, though you did seem to enjoy yourself to some degree, Akira."
"I did, believe me. It was just a lot to take in."
"Well, it is a bit more on the extreme side, but I can tell you will be most welcome there anytime now. Vincent and Catherine especially took particular interest in you." Straightening his long hair, Akechi began walking to the mouth of the alley. "I will be eager to hear of the next stage of our engagement. But for now, enjoy your evening, gentlemen," he waved to them, and disappeared down the bustling street.
"What a strange one," Ryuji remarked candidly. "Him and Yusuke, don't ya think?"
"Yeah, really. But damn, could Yusuke play guitar. Never would have guessed it after meeting him, though, unless I already know."
"The guy looked like he barely was aware of what was going on. That, or he just didn't care. Say, where are you headed now, anyway?"
"Dinner, actually."
"On your own?"
Akira shrugged, unable to help a slight smile coming to his face. "See you tomorrow, man," he called to Ryuji. "Get some rest now, you hear?"
Ryuji yawned and stretched his arms. "You too, Akira," he called back. "Don't get too wild tonight!" Akira responded with a confident wave without turning back, and in turn made his way up the sidewalk.
Ryuji turned to face the exit to The Gates of Hell, thinking on the electrifying performance he had just witnessed, and the prospect of what else he could witness had he stayed with Vincent. He then shook his head, dispelling the many ideas. "Keep it on the downlow, man," he told himself. "You're not like that anymore."
{Reviews are always encouraged.}
