CrowsXGokusen FF – 3,626 words (about)

Everything happens for a reason

Part 11: A Frustrating Thing

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever to Kumiko who waited, her breath caught in her throat, for her friends to respond to her confession. She looked to them one by one; Pon's mouth was hanging slightly open in confusion, Mako held himself rigidly and without expression, Hiromi's mouth dipped down at the corners. His eyes felt like they were piercing through her, cold and calculating. Finally he sighed.

"Either you are lying to us, in which case we're through, or you are telling the truth, in which case we're still through." Kumiko's eyes widened at the pure ice in his voice. Without saying another word, he turned on his heel and headed back the way they'd come. Mako hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Kumiko for something intangible, then he followed his leader out of the park. Honjou continued to stand there, looking if anything more confused and somewhat upset by the surprising turn of events. He took a step towards Kumiko then stopped.

"Um…" he mumbled, seemingly unsure of what he wanted to say. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his two friends standing by the gate, watching him. Shrugging apologetically towards his new classmate, he too turned and left. When the three of them had disappeared completely from sight, Kumiko slumped back over towards the bench and dropped heavily into its seat.

"Can I just ask you, are you crazy?!" Genji asked gruffly. Kumiko jumped, having forgotten momentarily about her friend's presence. She looked up at him questioningly. He sighed and sat down beside her once more.

"It's just, I thought you were keeping your family a secret to avoid being kicked out of school," he explained. "No offense, but that was anything but smooth back there. You probably should have already had a reasonable cover worked out in case something like this ever happened," he admonished gently. The Oedo heir frowned, staring at the ground.

"I didn't want to lie to them, they're my friends."

"Were."

She huffed and stood, facing her friend with a glare. Genji glared back up at her, not the least bit intimidated. She knew that he knew her better than most; that he could occasionally see through her calm exterior to the hurt underneath. But he also knew when not to push her, and this was one of those times. He seemed to understand and rolled his eyes, sighing again.

"We've got work to do, and it'll be dark in just a few hours," Kumiko reminded him stiffly, her tone business-like and commanding. "I'll inform grandfather of our negotiations and we'll meet at the border at dusk to organize the patrols. Is this satisfactory?"

"It is," he replied formally. "Will I see you there?" Kumiko nodded.

"Unless grandfather says otherwise. Watch your back, Genji." With that, she left the park, pausing by the gate to take a deep breath. Genji watched her go silently, feeling as a weight settled on his shoulders. He shook his head slowly and started off in the opposite direction. She'll just have to figure it out for herself, he told himself. The school of crows can be an unforgiving place.

Kirishima continued to walk purposefully towards the opposite side of town, away from Yamaguchi and away from the Oedo territory. He could feel Sugihara and Honjou at his back, trudging behind him like obedient dogs. Disgusted by the comparison, he reluctantly slowed his gait until they recognized his intent and came up beside him. He could tell Pon was chomping at the bit, do doubt wanting five different questions answered at once. Eventually, it was Makoto who spoke and broke the silence. He glanced over at their leader with cautious eyes.

"So you think he is lying?" he confirmed skeptically. "It's a bit too grand to be a lie Hiromi, what if he really is their heir?" The boy in question clicked his tongue in disbelief.

"It's bullshit," he spat in frustration, surprising even himself with his vehemence. "No sole heir to a yakuza dynasty goes to public school, let alone Suzuran. They'd have private tutors or some shit."

"The way you treated him is bullshit Hiromi!" Pon finally snapped. "He's supposed to be our friend, and we're just walking away? What the fuck is this?!" Hiromi's steps faltered slightly as he glanced to the boy who was clearly at odds with his actions. Putting more force into his steps, the leader of 2B looked straight ahead and cleared his throat.

"Friends don't lie to each other, and we don't need a friend like Yamaguchi if we can't trust what he says," he explained. He could tell from the boy's expression that Pon wasn't going to let it go that easy.

"How about actions carrying more weight than words? Or have you forgotten about him saving your ass just this morning? You're still limping!" Kirishima swallowed thickly. His friend was right, he had gotten so swept up in being angry at Yamaguchi that he had momentarily ignored the way the guy had stood up for him, multiple times now. The realization left a gnawing feeling of guilt in his gut.

"That was Rindaman's interference!" he snapped back, although he knew he was just being petty. On his other side Mako huffed in disappointment.

"I have to agree with Honjou, Hiromi," he murmured softly. "I don't doubt that Yamaguchi has his secrets, but we're not necessarily open books ourselves." He glanced at Pon and added a "mostly" under his breath. "I think this situation has been poorly handled, and at the very least, we can't afford to alienate him at this time. Not only would it cause a rift in our own class, but Yamaguchi has been earning a reputation as one of Suzuran's strongest fighters since day one. If he's not with us, it could cause defections. And we probably won't get Rindaman without him."

His two friends stared at him, their mouths slightly open, unable to remember the last time they had heard the usually silent boy speak at such length.

"That's what I think," he shrugged.

"We should go back right now and apologize," Pon said pointedly, staring at Hiromi and making it clear who he thought should be doing the apologizing. Their leader looked contemplative and a little ashamed, but ultimately kept moving ahead.

"Tomorrow is soon enough," he replied, jaw tight. "If he's upset now, it'll give him time to cool off." And I won't feel so ridiculous, he added silently to himself. Honjou rolled his eyes knowingly but seemed satisfied with his friend's decision. Mako nodded. The four of them were just passing the newly repaired window of the sandwich shop where Rindaman allegedly worked when Kirishima had an idea.

"You know," he began, edging around the issue, "since we're not planning on talking to Yamaguchi until tomorrow, maybe it would be worth it to check out his story later tonight," he suggested, speaking slowly as he thought out his plan.

"What are you getting at?" Pon asked bluntly. "I thought we had decided that it didn't matter what he said and that he's entitled to his own secrets." Mako was watching them calmly but Hiromi could practically see the gears turning in his head. He knew his friend had already guessed what his angle was and was calculating the possible benefits of such action. The boy was always cool and calculating.

"I mean the shop," he explained, nodding his head in its direction. "We come down here where he said he met up with Rindaman, and check that the guy actually works at the shop. One way or another, we'll know for sure whether Yamaguchi's lying to us, at least about that." As for being a yakuza heir… Hiromi thought he would believe that when and if he saw it, not before. Pon, however, seemed to like the idea.

"Yeah, yeah, I see what you're saying!" he said excitedly. "And when we see Yamaguchi tomorrow, he'll get that we actually trust him, because we checked it out!"

"I don't think that's how trust works exactly," Mako interjected, one eyebrow raised, "but I also think it is a good idea, to gather more information." Kirishima looked pleased with himself and glanced back at the shop, making a mental note of its location. Not that he thought they'd get lost trying to find it again, but things tending to look different at night. Frowning slightly, he saw the yakuza with the scarred eye leaning against the side of the building, tucked into an alley just far enough to not be obvious to passersby. It was clear that he was keeping an eye out for something, and as he noticed Hiromi watching, he crossed his arms in front of himself, looking the boy up and down analytically. Repressing a shudder, the class leader quickly turned back around and tuned in to what his friends were discussing.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about the man that seemed oddly familiar and yet terrifying at the same time.

It was late, and Hayashida Megumi found himself growing more and more frustrated as the night progressed. As afternoon had turned to early evening and the sky started to darken, he'd spotted Yamaguchi through the shop window, striding somewhere purposefully and with a small group of men that were clearly yakuza in tow. She'd greeted him with a small wave, but had otherwise not spoken to him, clearly in a hurry to be somewhere.

For some time afterwards it was business as usual. Customers came and went, the dinner hour typically being their busiest. It was the regular collection of salarymen on their way home from a late night at the office, local club girls and guys stopping in for a bite before work, and the occasional cluster of students feeling rebellious and out late with their friends.

It was around seven when Yamaguchi showed up again, this time with only a couple guys trailing behind her. She paused outside the shop, catching his eye and walking purposefully around the building and into the alley. Getting the idea, Hayashida murmured a hurried explanation to the owner and ducked out the employee side door, nearly smacking into his classmate in the process. One of the men beside her growled and glared at him.

"Hayashida-san, good evening," she said politely, giving him a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She was out of her Suzuran uniform and into a set of casual clothes, not unlike the ones she had worn the night before. Her hair was once more pulled back, an undamaged jacket loose and unzipped around her shoulders. It was a quite hideous shade of pink. She caught him staring at it and shrugged.

"It was a gift from Nami-chan, over at Midnight Rouge," she gestured vaguely over her shoulder towards the main street running through East District. He vaguely recalled a hostess by that name stopping in now and again. His fascination with his classmate only deepened at her offhand explanation.

"Listen," she said suddenly, as if only just remembering the purpose in her visit. "We don't think you'll have any more trouble tonight. After last night, any more of those guys will probably be wanting to steer clear of here." Her lip turned up slightly in a smirk, but he did not share her amusement. He was under no illusions about what had happened to those men after the Oedo 'cleaners' had retrieved them.

"I'd still like to post a few men nearby, if you don't mind. They'll stay out of sight and won't interfere with your customers. It's just a precaution. If anyone shows up looking for trouble, they'll be able to call it in." He turned his eyes on the men standing with Yamaguchi and look them over thoroughly. They were rough, with more scars and tattoos peeking out from beneath their clothes than he could count on both hands and feet. He was sure he recognized the taller one from the night before; the one with the scar stretching across his eye.

Once again noticing where his attention strayed, Yamaguchi bit her lip in thought.

"Kyo-san could stay if it would make you feel more comfortable," she finally said. The man made no movement to protest or question and Hayashida was once more impressed. Who is she to have earned the trust and respect of these men? he wondered. Having seen their interaction before, he knew this man 'Kyo' wasn't just some underling with no mind of his own. If he stayed, it was for some reason other than simply doing as he was told.

"It's alright," he said finally. "I'm sure my boss wouldn't mind the extra protection, she's still pretty shaken up. Just as long as they don't make any trouble." The men stiffened somewhat, looking slightly affronted and Kumiko's jaw tightened slightly in response.

"They'll be well behaved," she assured him, her expression cool and her toned clipped. He nodded, and she made a quick gesture at two of the men, flicking her wrist towards the entrance of the alley. They separated from the group and went to stand by the street like guards taking up posts.

"We'll be out on patrol with Ryusekai tonight, trying to find the rest of these guys," she spoke softly. "You can have my number, in case you see anything or need something. Or else you can just shout out to those guys and they'll get help." As she spoke, Kyo took a pen and slip of paper out from somewhere and handed it to her. She jotted down her cell number and handed it deftly to the large boy, looking him in the eye as she did. He nodded and pocketed the information, turning to go back inside as he sensed their meeting was over.

Kumiko began to walk briskly away from him down the alley, Kyo stepping up beside her. As the two neared the entrance to the main street, Megumi paused and called out to them.

"Yamaguchi!" She paused and looked back over her shoulder at the sound of his voice. "You have bad luck with knives," he said, trying to sound casual while thinking back on the events of last night and school that morning. "Be careful." Kumiko grinned and ducked her head in a slight bow before exiting the alley. With a final glance at the two remaining guards, Hayashida slipped back inside the shop and updated his boss on the situation. Taking a minute, he added a new contact in his phone before getting back to work.

That was almost four hours ago, and things had gotten bad.

After an hour or so, there had been enough of a lull in business that he'd taken a moment to make some sandwiches for their temporary protection. Using the side door again, he'd silently passed them the sandwiches, getting surprised looks and grateful nods in return. He wasn't sure if it was because of the sandwiches, Kumiko's apparent regard for him, or a combination of both, but the two yakuza became more enthusiastic in their duties as guardsmen after that.

Hayashida first became suspicious when their usual after-dinner lull stretched on longer than was normal. Admittedly, word about the attack the previous night could have spread around the district and scared away some of the customers, but usually by nine or ten o'clock their small shop would get a second surge of business from the night crowd. Workaholics, night-shifters, and carousers halfway through a night of drunken revelry would pour into the shop.

But apparently not tonight. Tonight, there were only a handful of people trickling in for sandwiches, many of whom appeared slightly startled or shaken. One glance out the side door revealed to Hayashida that their guards were no longer in the mouth of the alley, and a follow-up glance out the front entrance confirmed that they were now lounging in front of the building, one on either side of the door. Between the aggressive posture with which they leaned against the structure, and the way one of them was cleaning beneath his fingernails with a switchblade, the boy was honestly surprised that anyone had made it inside the shop at all. The few that had either ate so fast they were finished before he could blink, or took their sandwiches to go.

He could feel the beginning of a headache forming beneath his eyes, and his boss had retired to her office some time ago, seemingly resigned to the ordeal. Hayashida toyed with the idea of sending a text to Yamaguchi, appraising her of the situation, but thought better of it. If she really was out on patrol, or worse, if she was fighting some unknown wannabe gangster, then they last thing she needed was a trifling text from him. It was only one night, right?

It was about ten thirty when he became aware of a commotion outside. Glancing up from behind the counter where he was idly taking inventory and grumbling over gangs, Hayashida could just make out the shape of the two Oedo men standing in the street outside, shouting threateningly at a group of people who looked to be heading towards the sandwich shop. Deciding that enough was enough, the mountainous boy wiped his hands deftly on his apron and started out from behind the counter. The raised voices became clearer as he neared the door, and he struggled to hear what was being said.

"…been lurking around for nearly half an hour! Do you think we're…"

"…just passing by! Like we already told you, and now we're…"

"…up to something! You seem like the type to start trouble…"

"…for someone we know! He works here, and we just…"

Hayashida pushed through the door right as one of the yakuza men took the first swing and decked one of the guys square in the face. The offended man grunted but snapped his arm around with surprising reflexes in time to parry a second blow and offer a kick to the gut in exchange. The yakuza hissed, doubled over as his partner plowed into one of the other men, taking him to the concrete as he struggled for purchase against his attacker. The remaining man stumbled to find footing among the flailing limbs on the ground nearby, turning around at the click of a switchblade. The first yakuza had recovered and was mounting an armed attack against the one who had kicked him, making wide, wild swipes through the air with his knife.

Not wasting any time, Megumi pulled out his phone and shot off a rapid text to his classmate, telling her that there was trouble. Then he focused on the three men who were fighting with his yakuza guards. Looking more closely, he realized that that they were rather young, closer to school age than grown men. And familiar too…

When it hit him, he nearly smacked himself in the head in frustration. Reaching into the frenzy, he pulled two of the brawling men apart with surprising ease, separating out the yakuza and wrenching him back towards the shop. He freed his remaining hand, using it to snatch the other yakuza off the ground and yank him back as well. The three men looked up at him in recognition. The yakuza growled at him and twisted in his grasp, still swinging fists and knives but careful not to catch him.

"These are my classmates," he spoke loudly. He didn't shout, as a general rule, but he was sure they heard him. He released the two men, watching them closely as they rolled their shoulders and adjusted their clothes, all the while glaring icily at Kirishima, Sugihara, and Honjou. One of the yakuza was still holding his switchblade threateningly, his body tense like a coil. Stepping slightly in front of the three other boys, Megumi locked eyes with both men and held up his hands, palms out.

"They're here to see me. They're friends," he said calmly, ignoring the surprised shuffling behind him at his words.

"They were snooping around, like they were casing the place!" one of the men snapped.

"Were not! We were just deciding whether or not to come in!" one of the boys snapped back. He thought it was the one called Honjou.

"Who wouldn't be scared off at the sight of you two, honestly," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Now back off, or I'm calling Yamaguchi." There was more shuffling behind him, an observation which he filed away for later. Turning to look over his shoulder, he pointed at his classmates. "You three, come inside." Then he walked back to the shop, ignoring the yakuza completely and closing the door purposefully behind them, leaving the two men outside.

Pulling out his phone again, he saw that Yamaguchi had replied that she was on her way over. He typed out another message, letting her know that it was just the Suzuran trio and that he had handled it. Looking up, he saw that said threesome were collectively staring at him, mouths agape not unlike a school of fish. A very small school of fish. Sighing, he very pointedly turned his gaze to the nearest table and pulled out a chair for himself. After a minute or two, the other three unfroze and followed suit.

Which is how Hayashida Megumi found himself, frustrated beyond belief, surrounded by three other people, at eleven thirty at night. And they were all looking to him as if for some sort of explanation. He leaned back in his chair, legs sprawled out in front of him, arms crossed.

Why?