Majima Saga

Chapter I

"Innocence"

Sotenbori, Osaka- 198X

Osaka.

What was there to say about it, really?

It was a city. Not all that different from Kamurocho, if he were honest.

It was a city built all around nightlife indulgence.

Want proof? Look no further than the bright heart of the city, Sotenbori.

Wanna have a good time? There's a Soapland right down the street.

Wanna make some quick with a risk? There's a casino by the bridge, knock yourself out.

Wanna feel like someone loves you for an hour? The Odyssey or The Grand, take your pick.

Sex, cash, and booze. That was Sotenbori.

And then, there was Goro Majima.

He wasn't here for pleasure. He was all business.

He didn't have time to screw around, there was work to do.

He knew this. He was completely aware of this.

So why was he in a park arguing with a kid about the importance of putting trash in the trash can?

He just wanted a smoke. Unfortunately, when he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack, he realized that he had run out cigs.

Grumbling, he threw the empty pack off to the side and was going to continue on with his day, when this curly haired kid called out to him and started lecturing him.

"Whaddya mean, kid? It's just trash."

"And that's the problem, mister! You know where that trash ends up?"

"No?"

And why should he care?

"In our water! D'ya know how nasty that is?"

Nani?

"What?! No way that's true!"

"It is! My dad showed me a newspaper once that said our rivers were getting more and more polluted, and I saw that a lotta the cans and bottles and other stuff we throw away was floating around in the water that we get most of our supply from, so it had me thinking..."

Geez, who's kid is this?

"... then I started reading about all of these rainforests that have started shrinking in the past few years and…"

This must be pretty important to him. And if half of what he's sayin' is true, it oughta be pretty important to me too. I'm too damn young for the world to end!

"And so, what I think-"

"Alright kid. You've got me. I'll do my best to keep the streets clean from now on."

"Really?"

He nodded, and the boy beamed.

"Thanks mister!"

"Don't mention, kid. Say, what's your name?"

"Oh, it's Hisashi, mister. What's yours?"

"Goro Majima. Just call me Goro, kid."

"All right, Goro-oniisan."

That was a quick jump from 'Mister' to 'Niisan'.

"All right kid. I gotta get goin'. You take care of yourself."

And so, Goro Majima walked his way out of the park, off to handle business at the Midoriya Family office.

Midoriya Family Office- 5 Minutes Later

The office wasn't all that far from the park.

It also wasn't as big as he was used to family offices being, though seeing as the Midoriya Family wasn't all that big itself, it made sense.

Ringing the bell at the front door, he waited a good minute before a pissy-looking prick came to the door.

"Fuck do ya want?"

Well, what a barrel of monkeys this family is, if this guy's any indicator.

"I'm here to see Musashi Midoriya, on orders from Futoshi Shimano."

The asshole told Majima to wait a minute before he stepped away from the door, likely to ask his boss if he should let the man in.

The bowl-haired man rolled his eyes and leaned on the wall to the side of the door.

He understood protocol and all that shit, but he just wanted to get this over with so he could grab some cigs and head back up to Kamurocho. Hi-Lites were cheaper in Sotenbori, after all.

Why the hell did I end up gettin' the short straw?

He had no idea why the hell his boss told him to hop in a taxi and come all the way to Osaka to deliver a message.

To a third string family he hadn't even heard of, nonetheless!

Whatever let's review I got on hand, before Mr. Sunshine lets me in.

As far as he could tell, from the info he got from the locals in town, the Midoriya Family was pretty new in the area. They were a subsidiary of the Sagawa Family, a higher established family Omi Alliance, and Musashi Midoriya answered directly to the Sagawa Family Patriarch.

They allegedly also ran Cabaret Grand in town. It wasn't pulling in big numbers, and the place looked pretty empty from time to time, but they seemed to be staying in the black.

Oddly enough, the most confusing part of the Midoriya Family was its patriarch, Musashi Midoriya.

No matter how much info dug up, he couldn't seem to dig up anything about the man.

He could find all sorts of things about the man's men, like how some were hotheads who would cause trouble at some restaurants in town, before coming back bruised and apologetic the next day.

Or how some would get drunk and hog the mic at the karaoke bar, being drunk and belligerent and all around bad for business. They'd come back a few days later, at most, and drop off a briefcase full of cash with a heartfelt apology for their behavior.

Or even how some would start screwin' around and name-dropping their boss for free shit. They'd end up missing, the day after; all the free shit they obtained being given back by a different person who apologized for the inconvenience on behalf of Musashi Midoriya.

So yeah, he could info on the man's boys and make assumptions, but he couldn't find a damn thing on Midoriya. It was honestly kinda frustrating.

After all, it was generally accepted that you could find info on pretty much any patriarch if you looked hard enough.

Majima had been fishing for just about anything he could find on the guy, and he reeled in jack shit.

How the hell does a patriarch, of all people, end up bein' a ghost in a town he's supposed to be runnin'?

So here he stood, waiting for an audience with a ghost all for the sake of a boss who probably wouldn't even appreciate it. Oh, the joys of family.

Just as the young yakuza tough finished lamenting his lot in life, the door swung open and out peeked the head of the hardass from before.

"The boss'll see ya. Come in."

If he were expecting the office to be any more impressive on the inside than it was on the out, he supposed he'd feel mighty disappointed.

The inside was just filled with desks and a couple of plush chairs, likely for any guests that they weren't rude enough to make wait outside.

There was a painting on the far wall, but as far as he could see, there wasn't some secret safe hiding hundreds of millions in cash behind it.

If the office looked so ordinary, he could only wonder what the owner looked like.

Maybe the reason why nobody recognized him was because he was hidden by someone who looked more interesting.

Coming to a stop at a door that wasn't anything like the others(a shoji, oddly enough), the hardass doorman knocked lightly.

A soft reply of 'Come in' was heard and the prickly man promptly slid the door open, stepping to the side to allow Majima to step in first.

Uttering a quiet thanks, he stepped into the office for his first meeting with Musashi Midoriya.

Majima didn't quite know what he was expecting when he was told he was going to meet the man known as Musashi Midoriya.

He didn't know whether he was an old geezer who'd been in charge of young bucks like the dickhead doorman that had let him in for years, or if he was some promising young prospect that had impressed the right people and been rewarded with a nice new family of his own.

Well, what he got wasn't either of those things.

Instead, what awaited him on the other side of the shoji, was a man in what had to be at least his mid-forties.

He had a mop of black, curly hair with a bit of grey peppered in.

Hard features, the kind that you'd expect from a leader with a few wrinkles and defined laugh lines near his eyes, so he must've smiled a lot.

Four freckles in the shape of a diamond on both cheeks.

His eyes were dark, in color rather than content. Instead of any ill-intent or menace, that a good number of patriarchs that Majima had seen and interacted with held, this man's eyes danced with amusement and, what seemed to be, fondness.

And as he looked to the man's side, taking note of the other occupant in the room who had been chattering on the whole time, he could see why.

There sat a miniature version of Musashi Midoriya. A miniature version of Musashi Midoriya, who Majima had met, not even ten minutes prior.

"Hisashi-kun?" The words were out of his mouth, before he even had a chance to give them a conscious thought.

"Hm? Oh! Hey, Goro-oniisan! See? This is the guy, dad. The one that actually listened to me."

Funny how innocent little interactions panned out like that.

"Hello, Majima-kun. I'm Musashi Midoriya and I've heard that you have a message for me?"

This guy doesn't miss a beat.

"Yes, sir. From my boss, Futoshi Shimano."

Third String or not, this guy was a patriarch. He had to show some respect.

"Let's see it, then."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the envelope that Shimano had given him before shoving him into a taxi bound for Osaka.

Patriarch Midoriya gingerly plucked the envelope from Majima's fingers, eyes roaming and the scanning exterior, before opening it and skimming the contents.

As he reached the bottom, the amusement from before seemed to fade from the man's eyes.

Now, he was all business.

Laying the message face down on the table, he turned his head to address his son, who had been rather quiet after his initial greeting to Majima, with a kind smile.

"Hi-chan, would you mind stepping outside for a bit? I need to speak to Majima-kun about some adult business. It won't take long."

With nary a murmur or complaint, the boy nodded, stood up, and walked his way out of the office. When he closed the door behind him and the two men still left in the room heard his footsteps retreating, Patriarch Midoriya turned his attention onto Majima.

"Tell me, Majima-kun. Did you happen to have any idea about what was in this message that you were told to deliver to me?"

What's he mean? 'Course I didn't.

"No, sir. My job was to deliver the message, not read it."

The older man stared hard at the messenger, while the messenger simply stared back.

He hadn't done anything wrong, so there was nothing that Midoriya could do to intimidate him on that front.

A beat passed, and Midoriya let the hard look fall from his face.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that. Then, may I ask you another question?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you like children, Majima-kun?"

That's outta the blue.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean, are you good with children? Are you okay with being around them and interacting with them?"

"I guess I am. I don't dislike them at least, and I'd say I get along well enough with the kids that I do interact with."

" Good. Then I'd like to ask you for a favor, Majima-kun."

Majima didn't like the sound of that.

Two Years Later

A now one-eyed Goro Majima walked the streets of Sotenbori.

It was still a city. A city built all around indulgence. A city that he now lived in.

He was stuck there. Kicked out of the Shimano Family and on loan to one of the most reprehensible bastards he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting, Tsukasa Sagawa.

Add that onto the fact that his sworn brother was currently in prison and you had what made for a shitty time in the life of one Goro Majima.

He was currently on his way back from a long day of work at Cabaret Grand.

And it truly was a long day.

In the past two years, it had gone from firmly in the black to a hard plummet down into the red.

Business was picking back up, but that was only after the new management came by to give the place a shot in the arm.

Namely, him.

As part of his punishment, he was being forced to run the cabaret and bring in some major profits by the end of the year.

It was April already and profits were climbing up into the millions. He just needed to keep a steady pace and he could shoot past that bastard Sagawa's goal.

If he did that, Sagawa promised to speak to Shimano about letting Majima back into the family.

Majima was at least 80 percent sure that the man was full of shit, but he had to do it.

If there was even a 1 percent chance that the bastard would honor their deal, he had to take that chance. No matter how much money he had to pour into the place, no matter how shitty a place he had to live in. He would make it work. He had to make it work.

For his bro's sake, as well his own.

Turning the corner into the back alley that led to his apartment, he stopped in his tracks as he heard a noise.

It wouldn't be the first time some asshole tried to mug him here, but he wondered what the hell made him seem like such a great target. Was it the ponytail?

"Alright. Whoever's there, come on out. I ain't gonna ask twice."

He had a lot of pent-up aggression saved up from the day he just had, and the next person who pissed him off would be the one who took on the full brunt of it for the sake of everyone around them.

It didn't have to come to that, however.

Quickly, a small figure with curly, dirty, slightly matted down scrambled from behind the corner, an apology already on their lips.

And as Majima looked closer and listened to the voice, he realized that he recognized this figure.

"No way. Hisashi-kun?"

The boy looked up in fear and slight shock, before his eyes gleamed with recognition.

"Goro-oniisan?"

That was just the beginning of a truly strange time for one Goro Majima, age 23.