Chapter 13
Sworn to Our Bones
Earlier that morning, we return to the story of Akira Kurusu…
Makoto looked up to the door number in front of her. "183" indeed, this was her destination. And yet, she simply stared up to it for a moment, her stomach tying itself in knots. She had wondered about how this day would go for three years, if it ever happened at all. And now, it was about to. She was about to confront Ann Takamki regarding the Kamoshida incident at her old high school. Even facing down murderous thugs was less imposing than this felt.
Her feelings of embarrassment and betrayal toward a member of the student body that was under her returned in full force, as strong as they were the day Suzui-san jumped from the roof of their school, and the day Sakamato-kun was assaulted by Kamoshida. Makoto Niijima, student council president, had done nothing either time. She told herself and everyone else that there was nothing in her power she could possibly do back then, but only part of her believed that. She had further doubts as she stared more at the door in front of her.
Makoto sighed slowly, lowering her head as she knocked on the door lightly. Her stomach jolted as she realized there was no turning back now, and her back straightened itself in a desire to appear perfectly presentable and professional, and also at the sheer breath-stealing apprehension toward the conversation she was about to have.
There was a shuffling on the other side of the door; Makoto suspected Ann was looking through the peephole. The latch on the door was lifted, and the door opened, revealing a blond and beautiful young woman in a casual, vibrant tee shirt and slightly faded jean shorts. Her piercing blue eyes looked Makoto up and down for a moment with suspicion and cynicism.
"Niijima-senpai," she addressed her as if they were still high schoolers, "I heard you were here with all the excitement last night. To what do I owe the, uh, pleasure?" Her tone was biting, she crossed her arms in front of her under her chest.
Standing up straight as a soldier, Makoto replied respectfully, "Good morning, Takamaki-san. I heard from the boys that you were staying here as well. And it seemed that fate or some other force had granted me an opportunity to… clear the air between us, if you will allow me."
Ann's lips pursed as she continued to scrutinize her, as if looking for some lie amidst the olive branch being extended to her. She unfolded her arms and moved her hands to her hips with a sigh. "Come on in," she beckoned Makoto plainly.
"Thank you," Makoto bowed her head slightly. She entered the hotel room and they took their seats, sitting across from each other at the coffee table. "Let me be clear with why I came to you, Takamaki-san," Makoto began. "It is about the Kamoshida incident back at Shujin."
"I had a feeling," Ann replied curtly.
"And I want to start by saying that, no matter what explanation I can give you," Makoto broke her perfect posture and leaned forward, as if making a non-verbal state of intent, "I am sorry." Ann's expression softened ever so slightly as Makoto spoke with as much sincerity as she could muster. "I am so, so sorry for what happened to you, to Suzui, to Sakamoto, and everyone else that was hurt by Kamoshida. I know you felt like I had abandoned you, or that I never cared about your plight in the first place, but I want you to know that, then or now, that has never been true."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I tried to help you, Takamaki."
Ann folded her arms again and leaned back into her chair. "Forgive me if I don't immediately believe you, Niijima," she replied coldly.
"There's nothing to forgive, but if you would allow it, I would like to explain what happened back then."
"Shoot."
At least I haven't completely lost her yet, Makoto thought. "I admit, I was just as under the principal's thumb as you and everyone else claimed," she admitted slowly, the words feeling heavy on her tongue and in her throat. "My grades were not the main reason he kept me on the student council, it turned out. I was… an errand girl for him, doing all the student work he didn't feel like doing, and solving all the problems he didn't feel like solving. If I spoke out against his practices or any of the faculty, like I tried to with Kamoshida when the signs of abuse toward the volleyball team were becoming apparent, he would immediately hold my recommendation letter over my head, threaten to dishonorably discharge me from the student council for 'insubordination', the works."
"He always was a sleazebag," said Ann quietly.
"Indeed. The more influence he gave me, the more influence he held over me, and I did not realize it until I was his lapdog. Now, I know it sounds like I'm only airing my grievances, but that's not true. Because that's the very reason I felt I couldn't do anything to help you with Kamoshida… until the damage was already done."
"Principal Kobayakawa was barring you from helping?"
"Absolutely. I came to him twice regarding Kamoshida's aggressive behavior with the male and female volleyball teams, and both times he shot me down and threatened to remove me from my position over it. I tried to think of other ways to help that wouldn't impact myself or my older sister, who was caring for me at the time, but before I could even start anything, Suzui attempted to end her own life."
"So you did notice that after all," Ann glared at her.
"Of course, I did," Makoto stood her ground against the hurtful implication. "I was barely able to function, I felt so guilty over it. Watching you both be mistreated by Kamoshida was bad enough, but then it led to… that. I went to the principal immediately on yours and Suzui's behalf, calling for a full investigation into Kamoshida's behavior and reputation in the sports programs. I threatened to call the police as the student council president and report on the suspicious activities Kamoshida was exhibiting, completely blow the whole goddamn case wide open, even if it meant taking the whole school down with it. Kobayakawa then… started writing up an expulsion letter for me… right in front of me…"
Ann's expression softened once again. "Talk about underhanded tactics. He did that just to keep you quiet?"
"He obviously did not want the police to get involved, and none of the teachers were going to do anything about it. I tried to help you, Ann," she said, as if pleading with the other woman to believe her, "but if I did, my whole life would have been over with. I was already under pressure from my sister to excel in everything academic, and then Kobayakawa threatened to expel me for 'conduct unbecoming' and 'neglecting my duties'."
"But letting a teacher sexually abuse a student was okay?"
"Kamoshida's name brought a lot of funding and attention to the school on account of him being an Olympian. Bringing a scandal like that into the public eye would have been disastrous for the school. I still nearly did it."
"Well, at least you almost helped us."
"You don't get it," Makoto snapped back. "I went home and vomited three times out of stress and guilt, knowing I chose my education over your lives. I could hardly eat or sleep for days, I thought about throwing myself from the school, knowing I was complicit in the rape of one of my peers! I've been carrying that guilt with me ever since, and Ann," she breathed deeply, a couple stray tears forming under her eyes, "I am sorry."
Ann knew not what to say for a moment, taken aback by Makoto's gasps as she repressed the tears welling in her eyes. "I… didn't know," she began, "that you felt that way, Niijima. I was too busy handling that shit myself that, well, my anger at you got lost in the shuffle for a while. But I admit, back then and until now, I was always angry with you. I thought you just didn't care about us since it would get in the way of your sterling academics. Most people thought that, honestly."
"I'm well aware, and I do not blame them."
Ann looked at Makoto's reddening eyes again, and her heart sank in her chest. "You really mean it, huh?"
"Every word."
Ann looked away, growing more uncomfortable with herself. "It sounds like you were really caught between a rock and a hard place," she admitted.
"I still think I should have done something," said Makoto. "But I was a very different girl back then. I was terrified of what would happen if I did, and just getting expelled was the least of my worries, I assure you. In fact, everything that happened had a great influence on how I became who I am now."
"What? You some kind of heroine of justice now?"
Without hesitation, Makoto said, "I try to be. It won't make up for high school, but I can't let that kind of fear dictate who gets help or not anymore. People in positions of power that bar those in need from being helped purely for their own self-interest do not deserve the position they occupy."
"I agree," Ann nodded. "I guess all of that did do something to you after all."
Makoto shook her head. "You have no idea. How is Suzui anyway?"
"She's well… mostly," Ann responded, thinking on the events of the past three weeks. "It's actually pretty complicated. Though, I'm sure the boys will want to explain some of that too."
"Some of what?"
"That is complicated."
"Does it have to do with Kamoshida? Kurusu alluded to something of the sort last night."
"I'm surprised he did," Ann said. "Well, given that you seem to be holding up here for a while, we should probably hook up with the boys and get you caught up. They have as much part in this as I do."
"Sounds like it will be quite the story."
"You have no idea." Ann then locked gazes with Makoto again, confirming to herself once more whether what her former schoolmate had said was true. She clicked her tongue and sighed. There were bigger battles in this world to fight. "And Makoto?"
"Yes?"
Ann paused before speaking. "Thank you for apologizing. And… I forgive you."
"You do?" Makoto's eyes shot open.
"I do. The whole thing was… dealt with. And boy," she shook her head as she rose to her feet, "have we got a hell of a story for you."
Shortly after, the young men and women convened in LeBlanc's restaurant, which was busily serving breakfast to the guests. They requested a booth in the back where they could discuss their matters privately, and took their seats. Ann sat next to Akira and Ryuji, while Makoto sat next to Mishima.
"Jesus, I barely slept," Ryuji groaned. "I think my adrenaline was up all night."
"Can't say I did much better," said Makoto, rubbing her eyes. "I've never done anything remotely like that before."
Mishima laughed awkwardly to himself. "And I nearly spun out on the highway. I didn't quite realize it until I started winding down for bed, but I nearly died. And that was after we all got shot at."
Ann covered her mouth as she let out a chuckle. "You guys really did have an exciting night," she remarked. "Almost jealous that I missed it."
Akira looked to the wall next to him, crossing his arms. "We got in a bad enough scrape as it was," he said with a tired voice. "I wouldn't want you to get put in harm's way. We got close enough already."
"Aw, you're a sweetheart," Ann smiled at him. "But you don't think I can handle myself?"
"That's, uh, not what I meant."
Ann smiled and nudged his shoulder. "I'm teasing you, Akira."
"Uh, right," Akira rubbed his hair awkwardly. "Anyway," he quickly changed the subject, "we didn't get much of a chance to discuss our plans last night. All we know is that there's a hostile presence in the city, and Niijima-san here has some kind of info on it. You're after this Kaneshiro guy, and you think he's in the city."
"And now I believe the situation is more dire than I had previously understood. The shootout, the drugs, none of this can be a coincidence."
"You got that right," said Ryuji. "We don't know what this RZ-412 shit is, but if a bunch of thugs are willing to go on a public highway chase over it, it's gotta be some pretty strong stuff."
"Is that the drug you mentioned?" asked Ann.
Ryuji nodded. "Yeah, it came up in the registry we stole. Or, tried to steal. Some edgelord assassin took it from us last night."
"He was a formidable fighter," Makoto added. "We'd best be careful moving forward. Another run-in with him could be deadly."
Ryuji smirked, shaking his head. "I wouldn't mind a rematch with that asshole. I could tell he was smiling under that creepy mask; I'd love to break a couple of his teeth for it. Damn, we just met last night, and we already sound like a real team."
"Life happens fast," said Mishima. "And so does yakuza business, apparently, which only makes the situation more concerning."
"We'll need some information before we start anything," Akira added. "And since I'm stuck here until this shit is done, I'd like to get working quickly."
"What do you mean by that?" Ann asked.
Akira pursed his lips. "There's familial matters keeping me here. I've agreed to help Sakura for that reason alone. Once this crap is tied up, I get the hell out of here, and God knows I'm never coming back." His tone was dark, determined, and angry. An uncomfortable silence fell over the group, all present being reluctant to look at Akira directly. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrow and dark, both in anger and exhaustion. Akira looked around at his comrades, feeling guilty over making them uncomfortable. Ann looked to him with sadness and compassion, a certain look in her eyes that always gave him both comfort and pause. Ryuji just looked like he was ready to beat the piss out of someone on his behalf, which instilled a much different sort of comfort and pause in Akira.
Makoto cocked her head to the side, looking the young man up and down. "Is that your only reason, Kurusu-san?"
"What?"
"You only say that you're willing to help to help yourself out of a shitty situation, but I've been told you had something to do with the Kamoshida incident. I doubt that both this and Kamoshida were related to you going home."
Akira glared at her, cursing and complementing her internally for her observant nature. "No, it didn't," he admitted slowly. "Kamoshida was the worst of the worst. What have you heard about it?"
"Only that you three had something to do with it."
"Well, you're not wrong." Akira rubbed his eyes as if annoyed, but Makoto noticed a slight wince in his face before he did. His eyes scrunched and his jaw clenched for a brief moment before rubbing his eyes, and Makoto took mental note of this. "Mishima already knows this, so I might as well rip the band-aid off right now," he continued as he lowered his hand. His gaze was darker, more troubled as he locked eyes with Makoto. "I killed Kamoshida."
Makoto's eyes shot open wide. "You what?"
"I killed him." Akira's voice was scratchy, his tone plain, though the memory was obviously unpleasant. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, lightly rolled his shoulders as if the memory was causing him physical discomfort. Makoto noticed that Ann and Ryuji were trying to keep their focuses on their friend, but their eyes often darted elsewhere, as if they felt the same discomfort Akira did. "The guy was a monster, Niijima. More than you ever knew. He stalked Ann and Shiho to Kamurocho to kidnap them, wanted them to be the victims of his newest snuff porn."
Makoto recoiled in her seat at the implication. "You've gotta be shitting me," she muttered.
"I wish I was. We met by coincidence," he looked to his friends, "or fate, or whatever you want to call it. We all knew this guy was a menace, and we had a chance to take him down. So, I decided to help these two set the record straight, and get their revenge on Kamoshida. Though, in the end… that's not quite how it happened. The plan wasn't to kill him, but that was certainly an option. In the end, we subdued him, and he taunted me into killing him."
Ryuji and Mishima were about to chime in and add to the story, but Akira continued unabated.
"The guy was more degenerate and despicable than you can imagine, Makoto. We found another poor girl who was to be his next victim in his hideout, and we thankfully were able to free her. Name's Kasumi, a sweet, innocent girl a bit younger than us, and had no business being in a situation like that. Just part of the reason I put the guy down in my anger." Akira sighed, and looked to his two friends. He seemed even more tired than when they had started the conversation, but he seemed… stable as well. "Some people think I'm a hero," the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he looked to Ryuji and Ann, "and I just might be starting to believe it." He caught Mishima's gaze as well, who nodded in wordless full support of what Akira was saying. "It haunts me to this day, but there's no way I was going to let good people fall victim to someone like him."
Akira crossed his arms, looking down at the floor for a moment. He nodded to himself, as if concluding an inner monologue. "I've never been able to leave someone in need. My parents always taught me that the world needs more heroes, and not just the kind that leap over tall buildings and stop speeding trains, but the kind that just meet people where they're at, and do what they can to help with their problems, no matter what they may be. Yeah, a part of me does want to go home and get the hell out of this city, but I've got friends now that I know have got my back, so I'm gonna have theirs." He smiled to everyone at the table. "We're dealing with dangerous people, and apparently my family has some ties to them. I'm not gonna sit back and let them hurt anyone at this table or back home. I don't know if I'm a hero yet, but I do know that there's still something I can do – that all of us can do." Akira sat up straight, some bit of life returning to his eyes. "So, if everyone wants to put our strength together to save the city, then I'll be there every step of the way with you."
Ryuji cracked his knuckles confidently and rolled his neck. "Let's not waste any time then," he declared. "We're all ready to bust some heads, aren't we?" He held out his hand in the middle of the table with a resolute smile on his face. "We ready to give Kamurocho a real show?"
Mishima placed his hand on top of Ryuji's, a similar smirk on his face. "I'm in," he nodded.
Makoto followed suit, expressing a determined glare instead. "Nothing will keep me from discovering the truth, and I've already seen you to be strong fighters who help others." She nodded to Ryuji and Akira. "And thank you for that."
To their surprise, Ann then placed her hand on top of the stack, smirking confidently. "You're good at giving speeches, Akira," she smiled to him. "I'm not going to let anyone take advantage of others again either, not when I'm able to do something about it. And besides, big adventures like this are kind of fun!" she beamed, lighting up the room with her smile.
They all watched for Akira's response, and a strong, resolute, almost cocky smirk that inspired the same in everyone else present slowly appeared on his face. He placed his hand at the top of the stack and nodded his head. "I'll always have your backs, guys," he declared. "No matter what happens." His smirk grew wider, now appearing like the most confident and invincible of heroes. "It's showtime."
They lifted their hands into the air, with Ryuji and Mishima pumping their fists energetically. There was a comfortable quiet that fell over them as they reveled in their strange but positive new sense of comradery. "We gotta get some information first," said Akira. "This whole business was tied to the Kitagawa family. Luckily, we may just have an in with them."
"What might that be?" Makoto asked.
"The Kitagawa patriarch's grandson, Yusuke. We met him a couple days ago, and I'll bet he'll want to get caught up on what happened last night. Maybe he can help us get a head start on finding Kaneshiro."
Ryuji nodded. "Weird guy, but he's probably our best bet. Maybe Sakura can get a hold of him."
"Certainly worth a shot," Akira said. "I'll get in touch with him, and we'll head over as soon as possible."
"Hopefully we can start today," said Makoto. She then turned her attention to the television hanging over the bar, which was showing the local news. There was an awards ceremony being reported on regarding the police force, and she quickly looked away from the screen when they began listing the recipients.
Ryuji caught her sudden change in demeanor and followed her gaze to the television. "Wait, 'Niijima'?" he asked. "Makoto, is that a relative of yours?" Makoto did not answer immediately. Ann intuited that this "Sae Niijima" must be Makoto's sister she had spoken of earlier.
"She is," Makoto finally said slowly. "She's my older sister."
"Wow," said Ryuji. "Your sister is a hero. Did you know she was in Kamurocho too?"
"No. No, I did not."
"You didn't know?" asked Ann.
"No, I didn't." Makoto's expression became forlorn; her eyes focused on nothing in particular, her shoulders slouched, her lips separated as she sifted through the various thoughts in her head, processing any way she could explain the situation. "I haven't spoken to her in two years," she finally said. "I know nothing about her current life, and I have little intent to learn anything."
Akira raised an eyebrow her way. "Doesn't sound like you parted on good terms."
"We didn't, and that information is not vital to our objective," she said resolutely, defensively. "We're working with yakuza, yes? That means we will at least try to keep to the shadows. My sister being here is nothing to be concerned with. I will focus entirely on the mission, and I hope everyone else will as well."
Akira shrugged. "Fair enough. We'll just have to be careful when going around town. Not that we had any intention of sticking out much anyway, right?"
Makoto stroked her chin thoughtfully. "We seem to already have a propensity for extravagance. Hopefully we will be able to avoid highway chases and shootouts from here on."
"Then let's hope Kitagawa has some information that doesn't involve guns," said Ryuji. "Ready, Akira?"
"Yeah, just sit tight," Akira got up from his seat. "Sojiro should still be in, I'll get him to set up something for us."
"In that case," said Ann, "who's hungry for breakfast?"
"Honestly, that sounds nice," Mishima smiled. "I could go for a bagel and some orange juice."
"They make some fantastic waffles here!" Ryuji exclaimed excitedly. "Probably will taste even better, since I forgot to eat before bed last night," he chuckled awkwardly to himself.
"Ooh!" Ann perked up, eyes widening. "Does it come with whip cream and fruit topping?"
Makoto rubbed her eyes, dejectedly. "Talk about a change in tone," she muttered.
"What are you getting, Niijima?" Ann asked. "We can all order at once in a minute if you know what you want."
Makoto paused then sat back in her chair, taking the first deep, relaxing breath she had in what felt like a week. "Tea and some fruit, I guess," she said with a soft smile.
"Whoa!" Ann suddenly got excited as she looked at the menu. "They have a fruit parfait! Want to split it with me, Makoto?"
That certainly caught the other woman's attention. She looked to Ann as if she did not believe what she had just heard, and the blond young woman showed her the description of the parfait on the menu. To her abject embarrassment, Makoto's stomach then growled. Everyone's attention fixated on her, and as her face blushed, she said, "I'm… willing to try it."
"Sweet! Literally!" said Ann.
Akira shook his head with a smile as he made his way out of the restaurant. At least they were all getting along, unlike much of the previous night. As he reached the exit to the restaurant, he stopped in his tracks, feeling eyes lingering on him from behind. He looked over his shoulder to see Ann and Ryuji watching him leave, while Makoto and Mishima occasionally stole glances his way. Akira smacked his lips as he thought of the parfait Ann had shown them, realizing he too was in dire need of sustenance. But more than that, he found himself wanting to send some time with his new friends. He turned on his heel and walked back to the table, taking his previous seat next to Ann, who's face lit up as she noticed him walking back toward them.
"Can't save the city on an empty stomach, huh?" he remarked with pleasant candor as he sat down. Akira looked to Ann and asked, "Can I see the menu?"
She nodded jubilantly. "Of course," and held the menu up in front of them so he could read it. Their shoulders graced each other once or twice as he picked out his breakfast, and Ryuji rolled his eyes with a playful, approving smirk at the display. But alas, the boisterous, hot-headed delinquent held his tongue.
Akira ordered a Southern style omelet with peppers, ham, and mushrooms, cooked to absolute perfection with just the right bit of moistness in the egg and kick from the peppers. The waffles and parfait that made up Ann and Ryuji's orders were gone in minutes with everyone sharing the sweets, prepared just as well as the omelet.
There was little in the way of conversation, save for some small talk here and there. The news continued to report on the awards ceremony for the police, and all the young adults felt it best to leave the subject unacknowledged for Makoto's sake. As they enjoyed their breakfast, remarking on how well it was prepared, especially in Ann's case, who crooned in satisfaction and her eyes lit up upon taking the first bite of the parfait, there was a comfortable silence resting over them. The thoughts of the yakuza plot at hand were distant and considered unimportant compared to sharing each other's meals, at least for the time being. One would never guess that all but one of these young people had been in a car chase and shootout the night before as they calmly and quietly enjoyed their breakfast.
Akira and Ryuji picked up the tab for all of them. Ann and Makoto objected, but the primary benefit of working for a yakuza clan was that they were sitting on very comfortable earnings by that point. Akira took the elevator back up to the penthouse while the rest of the group remained in the lounge, chatting idly with each other. Makoto kept a more watchful eye on the television, a pang of sorrow and regret stinging her as she saw her sister being recognized for a great accomplishment. No doubt Sae deserved it, she thought. A part of her, for just a moment, wished she could see her sister once more.
That wish was quickly dashed and buried by old memories that stung her far more than seeing her sister's face once more. She cursed herself for being so wistful and childish, and looked not to the television again.
As Akira exited the elevator into the penthouse, he saw before him a woman in a long denim skirt and a yellow striped shirt, her back turned to him as she looked over a pile of books and papers in her arms. Her hair was lightly curled, her body thin, and it took the young man a long moment to recognize who she was. "Kawakami-san?" he asked.
The woman turned around with a scared yelp, immediately embarrassing Akira. Sure enough, it was the maid. "Shit, sorry," he stammered, holding his hands up to her. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Kawakami breathed sharply, calming herself as she rubbed one of her eyes, seemingly feeling very tired. "No, it's alright, Akira. I should have heard you coming in, but I was just too focused, I guess."
"What are you doing up here? You don't seem to be working."
"Oh, that's—" she cut herself off, now exhibiting embarrassment on her own face. "I was, um, just picking up some stuff I left here when I was cleaning last night. Um, you were already asleep, so you probably didn't know I was here."
"I didn't get to sleep until almost three."
Kawakami smiled awkwardly, putting on more of a "Becky" aura about her. "Well, you know me! Always been a night owl! And someone's gotta keep this place in shape, so I'm always happy to help!"
Akira tilted his head, getting a glance at the spines of the books in her arms. He could barely make out that one of them had the word "Algebra" on it. "Those look an awful lot like textbooks," Akira remarked.
Kawakami's smile turned from beaming to threatening with just a tilt of her head and a strain of the corner of her lips. "Master," she said without fully moving her mouth, "would you be sooo kind as to mind your own business, pleeeease? I'd really, really appreciate it!" she smiled even wider, somehow.
Getting the hint, Akira tapped the button to open the elevator door, and motioned toward it like an usher. "Have a good day, Kawakami-san," he forced a smile to his face.
Kawakami nodded and walked briskly to the elevator. Before the doors closed, she bowed her head, and in a soft voice said, "Thank you." Akira was not able to respond before the doors closed, leaving him alone to wonder just what the hell all that was.
"Not much of a ladies' man, are you?" the voice of Sojiro called from the top of the staircase. Akira turned around and saw his benefactor descending the stairs, dressed in a casual, flattering white jacket and slacks with a light violet undershirt and an off-white fedora. "Sometimes, you just need to not ask upfront like that."
"Then what? Is she finishing her degree or something?"
"None of your business, kid," Sojiro walked over to him, arms crossed over his chest.
Akira shook his head and looked upward with abject, extreme annoyance. "Just once, I'd like to one fucking question and here you say 'You know what? I've got the answer right here for you. It is your business'."
"Are you saying a woman's private life automatically should be your business?" Sojiro looked at him with a blank gaze.
"No," Akira's glare turned from annoyed to angered. "I'm saying that one of these days, you won't be able to just keep me in the dark on everything. I'm not one of your oathbound servants, Sojiro. I am my own person."
"And yet, you're here, looking for my help, aren't you?" Akira was too stunned by being called out to answer. "So, what do you need?"
Fuck this guy. "I need a meeting with Yusuke Kitagawa. He should know about what happened on his turf last night, and he may be able to help us get a head start on ending this whole mess."
"Well, I don't really have to set up a meeting, per se. He should still be at work. You're… affiliated with me, shall we say, so you won't need a reservation."
"Reservation?"
"He works at a tattoo parlor down near the Champion's District. Talented kid, not just in music. Head on down to Utabori's and ask for Yusuke. He'll let you on in, trust me. He already knows who you are."
"I'm not surprised," Akira scowled, turning to the elevator. "Does everyone else get as famous as I do for shooting up someone?"
"If they did, then there'd be no yakuza, kid." Sojiro spoke with authority, though in a matter-of-fact way. His voice was stable and calm, almost cold as stared Akira down from behind his thick glasses under his fedora. Akira did not divert his own gaze from that of the old man, but met it like two warriors on opposite sides of a scorched and scourged battlefield, the dust settling around them as the wide-eyed, young soldier takes in the sight of the world-weary veteran.
"Then why me?" Akira asked, anger giving way to a hint of morose that he was unable to suppress.
For the first time in the short time Akira had known him, Sojiro then looked away first. And for some reason, some god forsaken reason, Akira did not feel pride in this moment. "Because these are strange times. Horrible times, confusing times. And at these times, people need heroes, kid. Even the yakuza need heroes."
Akira immediately turned on his heel and summoned the elevator. With fists clenched at his side, he said nothing until entering the elevator, though nothing needed to be said at all. His furrowed brows, his short breaths, the slight twitching in his arms as his muscles tensed with anxiety and emotional stress was all that was needed to convey exactly what Akira was thinking. He thought about not saying anything, leaving the old man to ponder on the words they exchanged and those they did not.
But Akira elected not to. He turned around as he entered the elevator and glowered a cold and seething glare at Sojiro. A glare which softened in the slightest amount as the words left his mouth. "I'm not your hero," said the young man. "I'm not my mother."
The elevator doors closed, and Sojiro was left alone in his penthouse. He was not angry, he was not frustrated, he did not emote at all. But his eyelids did droop ever so slightly as he stared at the closed elevator. He felt no wrath toward the boy, but only felt in his bones that he was very, very tired.
