Chapter 16 – Eizan Etsuya, What Have You Done?


"So did I win or not!?"

Erina was about to spear her fountain pen into Terunori-senpai's big forehead and just let him bleed on the carpet. She hated the pattern, but needed an excuse to have it changed anyway. As soon as it was nine o'clock, he was already banging on her office door, demanding to know the total sales income of the Summer Solstice Festival. Specifically Yukihira's stall sales.

'It's always about Yukihira! Yukihira this! Yukihira that!' she internally screamed.

Give her a break. She had too much to deal with right now to have her mind wander over to that dopey face of the red-headed maverick of Polar Star dorms. She knew exactly why Terunori was desperate to know the total sales of her classmate's stall. It was practically broadcasted all over the school newspaper that Terunori-senpai and Yukihira had a battle to see which was better, Sichuan Cuisine? Or Vietnamese Cuisine? At least that was the angle the school newspaper was trying to cover. They were not allowed to hold an official shokugeki during community festivals like this, so those two childish people just took matters into their own hands.

Erina did actually double checked the sales statistics for all stalls for Kinokuni-senpai and saw that Terunori-senpai did in fact beat Yukihira in terms of daily sales three out of five times of the festival days. However, more surprisingly Yukihira had actually beat Terunori-senpai in the total sales at the end of the five days once everything was tallied up to a grand total. He had gone and done it and over-turned the natural order of the academy once again. She shouldn't be surprised, but she was. She always was when it came to this unusual boy.

Erina new the stakes of the little battle the two boys had, Yukihira wanted to defend the honour of that new transfer student. Isshiki-senpai had told her so and she of course make it clear that she didn't give a damn for what Yukihira got up to. But she was curious, so curious as to why he would go this far just for a stranger. Isshiki-senpai told her Yukhira just wanted to save the day. How many times did Yukihira felt he needed play the Robin Hood?

'Stop thinking about him!'

Erina threw the file at Terunori-senpai with all her might, the corner of the folder hitting him square in the forehead.

"Read it quickly and get out! I have lots of work to do!" she didn't mean to throw a fit, but thinking about Yukihira for too long always got her temper going and she needed a target to focus her annoyance on. She swept her fringe to reserve her decorum.

Terunori-senpai muttered 'tsundere bitch' and squinted his eyes as he buried his face into the sales file. She was about to reprimand him for his utter disrespect, but enjoyed the way his face transformed into anger and fire burned in his eyes. Well at least, he know exactly how much of a pain Yukihira was in the arse.

"That bastard! Damn, he really won this time around" Terunori-senpai was shaking uncontrollably and she signaled Hisako to open the door for him, lest he kick it down in his anger.

"Yes he did, and you will be on your way to apologise to Guen-san, I presume?" sighed Erina. It was difficult pronouncing the Vietnamese international student Nguyen Linh Ngoc's name. Most students called her 'Guen-san' as the Japanese pronunciation for Nguyen or just 'Rin-san'. But the girl didn't mind and was understanding. Erina gestured her manicured nails at him to give back the file before he crushed it in his fists. People like him were prone to ugly violence and she had no patience for that… like she was one to talk really.

"Tch… yeah, yeah… I don't go back on my word. I ain't that kind of guy" he muttered darkly under his breath and slapped the file onto her desk, never intending to actually put it into her awaiting hand. Erina smirked. That was the thing with people like the Elite Ten. They were full of hubris but when beaten, held themselves well enough to admit defeat to maintain the undamaged part of their pride. One had to have that quality to be an honourable Elite Ten.

Erina watched Terunori-senpai stomp out of her office muttering curse words, pushing Hisako out of the way, probably blinded by his humiliating defeat. Erina sighed and rubbed her temples. That was one nuisance gone, about a hundred more to go. The blonde Nakiri twisted around in her chair and stared out the window. When it came to Yukihira, all the rules were broken. When it came to Yukihira, her comfort zones were ripped apart. When it came to Yukihira, she didn't know what to do or think. Her God's Palate was threatened to become a Fallen Angel Palate whenever she tasted his food because they were sinfully delicious, not like she could ever admit it to anyone. She was angry, she was disgusted, she was… scared. She was afraid she would gravitate towards him too much, but she was already on that orbital path. The red-headed diner chef didn't make any sense. He did his own thing, unbounded by expectations and was always on some sort of self-discovery. He came up with the most unusual dishes that left almost everyone in the dust. He didn't fit into the culinary mould. But then again, he never tried to, he believed himself above that and all his friends loved him for it.

Everybody loved him.

Maybe Erina needed to believe herself to be above that too.


Floating, floating floating. She was floating on a cloud. She slowly emerged from her fast dissipating dream from the morning sound of chirping birds. She couldn't remember what she dreamt. Just the after image, like the foot prints on the beach, washed away by the tides. All that was left was the light headed buzz of waking and a pleasant tranquillity. The soothing smell of rain and cedar was a refreshing welcome and brought a smile to her face. Ayame straightened her legs into a tangled mess of a thin soft blanket. That was funny, she used only a comforter in summer. She yawned and made a move to rub the sleep from her eyes when she noticed she couldn't budge her arm.

Something groaned behind her.

'What…'

Ayame took a full five seconds to kick her brain back into gear. Images from last night played out in her mind like a montage. Ah. She was in Takumi-kun's bed… Takumi-kun was in his bed with her. She suddenly remembered the storm from last night, the claps of thunder, the rain pelting against the balcony door and the windows like someone flinging gravel at it. She also remembered how she had to drag her boyfriend back to his own bedroom because it was ridiculous that he chose the uncomfortable sofa rather than a larger and more comfy sleepy surface with her. She remembered how he was such an adorable mess as he hesitantly got under the thin covers with her. His face was flushed red all the way down to the neck and up his ears. He lied down as if tasered on high voltage, literally on the edge of the bed and she had to once again coax him further in, should he accidentally tumble off and hurt himself in the name of 'gentle-manliness'. She remembered how tempted she was to give him a 'proper' good night kiss in bed, just to see him faint and finally go to sleep. They laid down facing each other, the last thing she saw was his beautiful sky blue eyes gazing at her in adoration before she fell to sleep first. Ayame immediately relaxed once she took comfort in understanding why she was here and not in her own room.

The bed shifted. Ayame traced her fingers down to feel Takumi-kun's arm wrapped tightly around her waist and her other arm, from behind. His face was buried in her hair, puffs of steady breathing warmed her neck. She tried to twist around, but was trapped against him and the trap was solid. His longer legs started moving and Ayame's breath hitched loudly before she knew what was happening. If she didn't feel it before, she felt it now.

Against her buttocks was a steel rod.

'Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!'

All tranquility and morning doziness was banished from her mind as panic and unadulterated embarrassment washed over her. It was Takumi-kun's morning wood. Her skin prickled as if a million ants crawled over her body and she was sure right now her temperature was sky rocketing and she was sweating like crazy right now. It was probably the humid haze left by the rain! Yes, it must be! Every time she tried to move her body away, the steel rod pressed harder against her. It was fast becoming awkward, borderline mortifying! Ayame never in a million years thought she would ever feel that part of the male human anatomy before reaching her twenties. She was actually feeling it in all its glory pressed tightly against her behind with only the thin material of Takumi-kun's boxers both of them were wearing in between. If Ayame dared to think about it, she would described it as incredibly warm, stiff and…

Exciting.

No. no. no! She wouldn't and shouldn't be feeling this way about that! Sure she had slipped the odd playful, sexual comment every now and again just to get a rise out of Takumi-kun and reduce him to a heated mess because it was so fun, but this was the real deal. This was as intimate they had ever been with each other and Takumi-kun wasn't even awake. It sounded like he was still in REM sleep because he began murmuring into her hair in muffled Italian, so she had no idea what he was saying. The vibrations from his croaky, sleep-worn voice sent delicious tingles through her body. Upon reflex, she released a soft moan and arced her back, pressed her behind further into him. Instantly, his arms constricted around her and he grunted sleepily. Her breathing sped up into small, rapid gasps as her mortification pedaled forward.

He grinded.

"Aya!" she yelped.

She clapped her free hand over her mouth, trying to calm her breathing, but to no success. Luckily, he just gave a little snort but remained asleep to her absolute relief. Her body was shaky and a familiar sense slowly invaded her lower region, making her instantly feel hot and bothered. There was one other time she felt like this and it was the night Takumi-kun made bruschetta for her and they both made out. Arousal.

But this was better. Ayame bit her lip and her vision went slightly blurry. It felt good. It felt really good. She wanted to feel it again with Takumi-kun because it was out of this world. Only he ever made her feel this way. She hesitantly grounded her behind against him too, instantly sending shots of electricity through her lower half. Takumi-kun who was still asleep slowly rocked his hips back and forth against her, digging his face further into the back of her neck until she felt teeth meeting her skin.

"Nnggh...!" She bit back her moan. She couldn't believe Takumi-kun was nipping the back of her neck in his sleep! Even more unbelievable that she was encouraging all this. She'll never be able to look him in the eye after this. Probably stare at his perfect nose or something.

"Aya… me" came out a strangled groan.

Her stomach clenched as a coiling began to build from within. Ayame's eyes flew open in shock, still bleary. He was dreaming about her? Ayame was quickly reduced to feeling timid and sheepish. Goodness, this was really happening and she was in the midst of it all. His arms started unraveling slightly and brushed up the underside of her breast. She hissed. Her arousal intensified and she craved to feel that again, and the sleep-ridden Italian didn't disappoint. Whatever he was dreaming about was being manifested into the real world. He continued to caress her chest lightly and Ayame was reeling back from the sensual finger-tips causing her body to flutter in pleasure. Soon she was drenched in sweat. Her eyes turned half-lidded and her brain melted into goo, totally succumbing to Takumi-kun's ministrations. His head moved lower down until his soft lips met her bare shoulder. He placed languid and hot sloppy kisses onto her skin in his sleep. She could tell he was still asleep because there was no way he would be doing this whilst awake.

Ayame rubbed her thighs together hoping to make the warm wetness that was forming between her legs disappear. Her boyfriend continued to unknowingly thrust against her behind and was steadily slowing down. His hands began to creep higher and Ayame gently clawed at them, one side of her trying to preserve both their dignities and the other side fighting to unleash her desires to be manhandled by her man. Takumi-kun in his sleep was unrelenting. He continued to rub himself against her rhythmically at a slow speed and the heat radiating from his body cloaked her in a heady, masculine scent of cedar. Takumi-kun's strong arms were curled around her upper chest now, his hand resting on her shoulder. Ayame clutched his arms, trying to create more room for herself but soft groaning against her nape stopped her.

"Il…mio"

He boyfriend was back to mumbling Italian into her hair. She should really stop this now before he woke up and find themselves in such a compromising position that much needed explanations will render both of them speechless, or Isami might pop in for whatever reason… or a police surveillance drone might be hovering outside.

Speaking of her Otou-san…

Ayame reached under the pillow and fished out her phone with her free hand. There were no returned calls or texts from Otou-san. Either he had his hands tied with his ongoing investigation or didn't bother checking, or he did check but decided to do nothing. Otou-san had been so pre-occupied lately. New developments were always cropping up and he either left home at odd hours or was just almost never home. Either way, he will be out of their hair for a while. She tucked her phone back under the pillow.

The arms around her unfurled some more and the disrupted breathing told her that her boyfriend was finally emerging from his deep sleep. Ayame dropped dead like a log and pretended to continue sleeping. She wanted to save him the humiliation once he realised… he's not-so-little-but-actually quite-impressive-predicament… and what he'd been doing. She evened out her breathing into a sleeping pace and stayed absolutely still. She felt Takumi-kun turn around in bed and she felt it dip as he slowly sat up. He yawned and grumbled.

"Merda!"

Yep. It looked like Takumi-kun had just noticed his morning wood. She remained absolutely still and battled the urge to just pretend to wake up right this instant to catch a glimpse of his morning sleepy face! She felt the hairs on her cheek stand on end and it tickled apprehensively. Soft and warm puffs of air cascaded over her face. Takumi-kun must be leaning over her side to check if she was still asleep, and she gave nothing away, even remembering to pretend to softly snore.

She almost jolted out of her pretend sleep, when Takumi-kun planted a quick peck on her cheek before scrambling out as gently as possible. She listened to his soft pitter-patter as he made his way out into the corridor, do doubt converging to the bathroom for a morning shower to… take care of some business. Yes, Ayame read smut at times, thanks to Chizuru-chan. She knew how these things worked. When the coast was clear, she got up out of bed and was able to stretch properly this time. She released a beastly yawn and kicked the thin blanket off for good before getting out of bed. She quickly made the bed and wondered out into the kitchen.

"Buongiorno Ayame-chan! Did you get a good night's sleep?" Isami-kun's cheery voice rang out from the balcony door near the kitchen.

"Ah! Y-yes, I did. Thanks for asking" smiled Ayame. She didn't expect Isami-kun to be out here.

Isami-kun was dressed in a sleeveless hoodie and thin cargo pants. His taller frame leaned against the balcony doorway, a small cup in his hand. Ayame followed the smell of coffee to the sink. There was an electric percolater sitting on the bench beside the sink.

"I've just made some coffee. Would you like some?" asked Isam-kuni, gesturing his cup towards the percolater, offering her a friendly smile.

"Oh no, that's ok. I think percolated coffee will be a little too strong for me" Ayame declined politely. She sat up onto one of the stools and helped herself to an apple in the fruits basket. She realised that she was still wearing Takumi-kun's sleeping shirt and boxers but Isami-kun didn't seem to mind at all. He was very polite and didn't gawk or stare or anything. He nodded and joined her at the kitchen island.

"Nessun problema. But hang around here more often and you'll be used to it in no time" Isami-kun's eyes crinkled cheekily.

"Haha, I don't want to impress Takumi-kun too much. Funny, I've never seen an electric percolator before" said Ayame.

"I brought it back from Italia. It's really handy. You just have to put in the water and ground coffee beans, plug it in and let it do its thing. It has a thermostat that automatically stops the percolation process after some time and keeps the coffee warm too" said Isami-kun.

"Do you like it better than an ordinary perculator?" Ayame almost finished her apple.

"Si. With an ordinary percolater, you have the remove the filter basket with the grounds immediately because if you leave the grounds in the pot, steam will condense on top and drop back into the coffee. This will strengthen the brew and make it bitter. So it is handier for Takumi and I because we drink coffee at different times" he said continuing to smile at her. Ayame liked Isami-kun a lot. He was very warm, kind and friendly. She felt she could get along with him super-well.

"How's your girlfriend? Bianca-san was it?"

"Ah! She's doing fine. This is her right here!"

Isami-kun whipped out his smart phone as quick as lighting and flicked through heaps of photos of a beautiful brunette haired girl with luscious olive skin for Ayame to see. She had very pretty blue eyes just like the Aldini brothers, but a lighter shade. There had got to be hundreds of photos of Isami-kun together with his girlfriend because the photo slideshow never seemed to end or got less cheesy. Isami-kun was gushing non-stop over how wonderful she was and Ayame believed him whole heartedly. They looked like they made an adorable couple, they looked so in love. As Ayame flicked through photos of their dates, she thought about herself and Takumi-kun. They didn't have many photos together where it was just the two of them. They had photos with her friends included. Maybe it would be a good idea to start solidifying their memories together by taking photos.

"Ayame? Isami?"

Ayame turned around to be greeted by the sight of Takumi-kun fresh from his shower. His semi-wet hair was slicked back and he looked yummy. She was not ashamed to admit it in her mind. She smiled at him as he approached her to kiss her on the cheek and said buongiorno to the both herself and his brother. Isami-kun poured him some coffee pushed the cup over to Takumi-kun and he thanked him. Ayame stared at him as he drank coffee and noticed he didn't have the redness from a fresh steaming shower.

Ah. He indeed had a cold shower…

Ayame smiled indiscreetly.

"Ayame, I can take you home whenever you're ready. Would you like to have breakfast and take a shower first?" he asked.

"No, I'm alright. I need to get going. I've got an alarm clock to finish and a morning skype call with Okaa-san. She is still on her never-ending business trip. Thanks so much for letting me stay the night" she said. Ayame rubbed the back of her head and checked the clock on the wall. It was eleven o'clock already so that was really nice sleep in.

Ayame returned Isami-kun's phone, letting him know that Bianca-san was gorgeous and he blushed and laughed loudly. Takumi-kun followed her back into the bedroom and Ayame had to cough into her fist, to signal to him that she intended to change her clothes into the ones from last night by herself. He got the hint and spluttered an apology and crab-walked out, closing the door gently behind him. She shook her head and chuckled. Her boyfriend was so cute.

Once Ayame finished and placed his clothes into the laundry hamper for him, she tied her hair up into a bun. She did a final check that everything was in order and that everything in Takumi-kun's room was the way it was before she slept over. Ayame sighed and stepped out into the kitchen.

"Eh? Really? Seriously you don't have to. You should keep it for yourself and Isami-kun" Ayame stared flabbergasted at the box of leftover Hunter's Chicken Stew packed into a plastic bag beside her bag of frozen whole dressed chicken. He was packing food for her to take home?

"Si. It's for you. Don't worry about us. Make sure you eat it when you get home" Takumi-kun smiled at her.

"You always know how to take care of me, Takumi-kun" she giggled into her hand.

"Of course! You are my girlfriend. I have a responsibility" he said proudly.

Ayame waved goodbye to Isami and he waved back enthusiastically. Takumi-kun helped her carry her stuff and they both walked out, into the elevator and out into the streets of Minamikawase. They walked down the street towards the bus station, enjoying the sunshine and the fresh smell of last night's rain. Takumi-kun insisted he take the bus with her all the way to her home and Ayame could do nothing to make him change his mind because he was taking this boyfriend business very seriously.

"Ayame… did I d-disturb you during the n-night or anything?" he asked nervously.

Ayame blushed. Well, not in the night… and she wouldn't call it disturbing per say…

"Umm… How do you mean?"

Takumi-kun was blushing like mad. "L-Like, do anything i-inappropriate in my sleep, like touch you accidentally and th-things? It's ok, you can tell me, if I was in the wrong!" he blushed deeply.

"Not at all. I slept really well and I woke up feeling really good too" she smiled and weaved her free hand hands into his free hand as they sat on the bus. He seemed to sigh in relief. He looked up from his lap and gazed into her eyes. It was the same look of adoration he had just before she fell asleep and it made her heart feel so warm. Just for this time, she'll keep their little morning risqué incident in bed a secret only for her to enjoy and dream about.

She leaned up and kissed him.


Etsuya rubbed the dust from his eyes. This place was too filthy for the likes of him. It's been almost twenty days since he was thrown into the ryuchijo in Tokyo, otherwise known as the detention centre for holding suspects until they were charged or cleared. His anger had simmered down to a resenting seething. They had confiscated all his belongings including his phone, his wallet, his necklace, clothes, everything he had on him except his glasses and just gave him prison-issued uniforms. It was a sickly orange jumpsuit. If out on the streets, he wouldn't be caught dead in that colour. He wasn't allowed bail at all, which was not surprising because bail was uncommon in Japan. Etsuya thought about the events which lead to this moment. The moment he was just lying on the prison-issued futon listening to the clicking and whirring of the battered, old ceiling fan. It spun lazily above him barely contributing to the air movement.

When he was rudely awoken during the night by Nakiri's aide he was preparing a speech to let her have a piece of his mind as to why he should be dragged out from his dormitory bed during the ungodly hours. But upon the sight of the Superintendent General of the TMPD, he knew he was fucked. To make matters worse the infamous officer had the most arrogant and nasty grin on his face.

Etsuya groaned. "Can I get some water in here?" he drawled from his position on the floor. The warden outside didn't respond at all and he could only hear his footsteps moving away, clacking on the linoleum flooring.

Etsuya was absolutely livid as soon as the Superintendent General took out a pair of handcuffs. How insulting! Insider trading? What was the big deal? Millions of civilians with no business acumen had no idea that people like himself, private institutions, business investors, bankers, CEOs, financial companies, were the ones who kept the economy afloat because insider trading was committed every single day. Monitoring for insider trading in Japan was a joke. That was the thing about Japan. The government try to emulate the West and it only ended up in short-comings. It never went exactly the way they wanted Why? Because the East and the West were at completely different mindsets. Every Japanese knew that making a profit with whatever knowledge you have and attained was just pure common sense. It didn't matter where and how you learnt it. If he was an adult in 1988, he would totally have fought against the law introduced to combat insider trading in Japan. As if they could put a piece of legislation against that. Also, punishment for insider trading was literally laughable. If they wanted to make a big deal about it and were actually serious about combatting this so called "crime", the least they could do was make the punishment hurt. Compared to the West, the biggest worry offenders like him look forward to were just a lousy fine and a slap on the wrist. The fine was probably less than the profits he made anyway. Thus no-one was scared to do it. The most anyone got was jail-time that was reserved for the most egregious cases. But it was the reputation he had built that he cared for most. In Japan, saving face was a heavily weighed value, whether one liked it or not.

Etsuya frowned. Where the hell was his water?

He had to admit that the Superintendent General himself picking him up in handcuffs in the flesh was shocking. Etsuya knew he should be at least honoured that the head of the TMPD had graciously spared his time from his busy schedule of overseeing take-downs if bouryokudan, or violent organised crime syndicates, destroying narcotic rings and murder investigations or something like that, just to visit little old Tootsuki tucked away in Western Tokyo. But he wasn't. He wanted to spit in his face but held back as soon as he caught a glimpse of that famous red katana secured by his hip.

When they had reached the TMPD headquarters in Central Tokyo, he expected to be given the usual drivel like the list of charges he was arrested for, having the right to remain silent, the right to have his own lawyer at his own expense or shit like that, but there wasn't a single word from the Superintendent General except for 'keep your mouth shut' and 'you won't be needing a fucking lawyer once I'm through with you'. The famous katana-wielding policeman wasn't famous for his decorum or waxing poetry. Aside from his blade, he was famous for having the strangest but most formidable team on the force and they were mainly comprised of internationals. Obviously Etsuya couldn't understand why he would choose his top force to be non-Japanese nationals to entrust the security of the Japanese people. But if the chairman of the National Police Safety Commission and the Prime Minister allowed it, then so be it.

He was questioned for only forty-five minutes. Etsuya remembered it very clearly. It wasn't the type of session where they made threats, cursed, spat and tried to scare him with cheap tricks like slamming their fists on the table to get him to make a confession tape. They were quite amiable. They were like him. They were smooth talkers. Therefore, he had to be very careful about what he said. He could tell it wasn't any normal session. They tried to lull him into a false sense of security to get him to make a formal confession, to make it easy for everyone and save him the pain and humiliation of putting himself through to trial. But he wouldn't fall for it, he had too much street-smarts for that. They walked him through step by step in their investigation on how they ended up coming to arrest him. It all made sense and the puzzle pieces fitted together properly.

Except some of the pieces were forced to fit. Forced by the one lie he was forced to agree to. He had to lie about where he got the non-public information to make those insider trades. So whatever theories the police generated on how he obtained them, leading to his arrest, he could not confess to them nor refute them even though they were false.

Etsuya remembered grinding his teeth and one of the Superintendent General's subordinates, the platinum blonde one with the facial scar, cocked his head as if he caught on to something. Etsuya was about to tell them about that stupid information broker he was introduced to and had been consistently buying information from. If he did, the whole case could have been shifted to focus on that fucker instead of him!

He had a promise to keep and that was to leave the information broker out of it. That slimy bastard he met in Shinjuku made it very clear that if Etsuya was ever caught, which he promised he never would, no mention of him will be made. Of course, why should Etsuya keep that promise and what would stop him from using his name as leverage? He remembered the man only spun on his wheelie chair in his penthouse office and smirked that evil smirk of his. He had other information that could destroy Tootsuki, his consultation business, his clients, his family, his numerous bank accounts and make sure that Etsuya would never be able to rebuild himself again.

Blackmail.

Of course when Etsuya scoffed and demanded proof for such wild claims, that information broker only grinned and sighed saying he couldn't be bothered going down to his information vaults for it. He would just have to take his word for it. Could Etsuya make that gamble? He couldn't. He had too much at stake. Therefore, he made no mention of the information broker with whom he often communicated with through prepaid phones he bought and destroyed after use. Those subordinates released him back into his detention cell, but there were knowing looks on their faces too and that unsettled Etsuya greatly. It was as if they could see through him. Like they were testing him with their elaborate theories on how he obtained his information. If that was true, then he was fucking pissed about it. He hated being toyed with. If he could somehow hint them towards that information broker without tracing it back to him, then fan-fucking-tastic.

"You have a visitor, Eizan-san" said the warden.

"Where's my water?" he replied.

"You've got a tap in your cell" said the warden.

Etsuya clucked his tongue. For fuck's sake. The jangling of keys and locks being noisily slid open made him sit up from his futon. The easiest way to not be man-handled too much by these mother-fuckers was to just cooperate. Etsuya was lead down the corridor towards the private room. A few people had visited him in the past week. Some Tootsuki officials, Isshiki, and his lawyer, that was it. Surprisingly Isshiki was the most helpful. Etsuya was roughly shoved into the private room at the end of the corridor and the door was slammed shut with the warden still as a statue standing guard outside. Etsuya took off his glasses and wiped it with his prison-issued uniform.

"Well, well, well. I'm surprised they allowed you to keep hair gel or something. Your hair looks smashing as always"

Etsuya felt the veins in his temple about to explode and whipped his head around.

"You… what are you doing here?" he growled.

He looked just as smug and conceited as ever. The perfectly punch-able face of the information broker from Shinjuku. He sat on the plastic chair like his own throne, with his feet neatly crossed on top of the table with pure disregard. His hands were stuffed in his thrift-shop jacket pockets. Who the hell still walks around with a fur-lined jacket in fucking summer like that? The information broker's rust-coloured eyes were teasing him like they always did. The same look that said 'I know something you don't know'. His coal-black hair was still short, the right length and the right style to perfectly disappear into a crowd and no one would look twice. But he was good-looking enough to disarm anyone he talked to if they didn't know who he was beforehand. Those kinds of people were dangerous. Whenever this information broker was around on the streets, there was always some sort of conflict happening, which was what Etsuya came to learn a few times when he was in Shinjuku or other surrounding districts. The more information he bought from him and the more advice he took from him, the closer he was to putting his number on his business mobile. That was indeed dangerous.

"Paying a good client a visit" he drawled.

Etsuya slammed his palm on the table, making the warden outside turn his head before resuming his duties to stand guard. The information broker remained unfazed.

"You promised me that I would never get caught" he said. Etsuya 's vision was flooded red. He refused to sit down. Not for this slimy snake.

"Well, you did follow all my advice and used my information well enough. You didn't get caught for three years which was something at least. But you must know there are some hiccups along the way in your line of work. Promises are so… dependent on the situation. If the circumstances aren't the same anymore. They are subjected to change" he said nonchalantly.

"You could've warned me…"

"You didn't put that in the contract" he grinned deviously.

If they weren't in this stupid place, he would've decked him like he should have a long time ago.

"I don't understand…" said Etsuya, finding his inner anchor before he tore the desk apart.

"You should put that on a T-shirt" cackled the information broker.

"My back-channelling was completely invisible, I made sure my schedules for impromptu meetings with my clients were clean, my lines and connections were secure, I used proxies all the fucking time and yet the police were able to pin everything back to me and my clients. Why the fuck is that?" said Etsuya.

"I applaud you for that Eizan-kun, I really do. But you know, as crime gets more sophisticated, so does the police's method for uncovering them. It's a symbiotic relationship. Like I said, there can be hiccups and it's just unlucky you weren't careful enough" he continued grinning.

Etsuya narrowed his eyes. That was a fucking lie. Hiccups could be predicted, hiccups could be avoided and Etsuya was always on-guard and literally paid the prick for information from within competitive companies to make the most profitable gains which obviously had to be without being caught by authorities. That was how insider trading fucking worked.

"I'm sorry, you're in jail Eizan-kun. I really am. But you pay me to supply information. I'm not responsible for what you do with it. You're not my only client you know. Others might come looking for the same information and all I do is sell it. So when you look at it, leaked information tend to leak faster and it always leaves a messy wet trail when given to rich and greedy people with minds like a sieve" the information broker flicked his hands about, like flicking water after washing them under a running tap. "Which by the way, I wasn't referring to you. Your mind is like a steel trap!"

"You still haven't told me why you're really here" said Etsuya, as calmly as possible.

"Didn't I? Whoops, didn't mean to be rude then. I'm here to make sure you don't breathe a word of my name or who I am to the police" he uncrossed his legs and leapt back onto his feet, his hands were back in his pockets. His smirk split his face wider, showing his gleaming teeth and crinkling his slanted eyes.

"Oh yeah? Promises are dependent on the situation you say? Well my situation has certainly changed, don't you think? It's starting to look like a really good option right now, bringing you down with me. Looks like you left your own messy wet trail, punk." smirked Etsuya.

"Hahaha! You're so funny. Your pathetic yakuza face makes it more hilarious. I wouldn't do that if I were you because everybody who's on the ship goes down. Tootsuki, your clients, your family…"

"My family has nothing to do with my business"

"Hmmm… not yet. I don't know about your family on the top of my head. But I don't need to because I can retrieve that information very easily".

"Ha! I still have yet to see this make-believe bargaining chip you keep waving in front of my face. If you get caught too, the police are going to raid your information vaults for everything you've got, lock you up like a motherfucker and toss out the key. People like you have a lot of enemies. I bet they would pay to see that" Etsuya spat at him triumphantly. The information broker had underestimated him. Etsuya didn't build his success on pure luck. He had scraped his way using only his wit and ruthless business sense to build an empire on his business and sucked in other culinary empires to use his service. Enemies were made everywhere; he knew when someone was bluffing.

"Man! This is like watching stand-up comedy! I'm freaking gutted that you haven't figured it all out by now"

"You think this is fucking amusing!?" he yelled, not caring that bits of his saliva hit the table, because he was pissed beyond belief.

The pasty skin bastard flopped back down on the plastic chair with an exaggerated sigh. He leaned back and took out his hand, his thick silver ring gleaming in what little light was surrounded by the shadows. He folded his arm across his stomach and propped up the other on it and placed his fingers over his chin as he looked at Etsuya up and down like he was just a specimen on display at the museum.

"You take my words too literal. I have no actual vaults, not in any of my offices at least. My information vaults are all in here" he tapped his temple.

"They are my mind palace".

"What?" Eizan screwed his brows in confusion.

"It's how you store information so you never forget it. By picturing it" he chuckled without remorse. He closed his eyes, keeping his smirk plastered on his face. He spread his knees apart and placed his arms gently on the arms of the chair. It was like he went into a meditative state.

"Let me show you how it works. This is where I go to when I want to retrieve my information" he said calmly with his eyes remained closed. "I just sit. I close my eyes and I go down, down, down into my vaults, my memories" the information broker hummed a childish tune and clack his heels against the linoleum floor, imitating the sound of walking around. "I can go anywhere inside my vaults. I pick the cabinet where the files I want are. They are always there". He chuckled sickeningly. He raised his arms lightly up to shoulder height and grasped onto the empty air. He pulled his hands towards him and stretched it out again. He wriggled his fingers through the air, like flicking through files in an invisible cabinet drawer.

His eyes were still closed and his cunning smile ever present.

This was getting to some creepy shit for Etsuya.

"I look into the files on Eizan Tonohara… oh this one's a goody" he chuckled louder. "Your brother has been such a bad boy…" he laid his hands, palms faced up, like there was an invisible Manilla folder in his hold. He raised his right hand and flipped over an invisible page, giggling to himself as if he was reading something smutty. "This one's my favourite… robbing a liquor store in anime character masks? That's just classic! Oh! Oh! There are some other juicier crimes he had committed!" the information broker's clenched his eyes tighter to suppress an obvious belly laugh.

"Ohh… now it gets darker. The stuff he wasn't caught for…" he continued to languidly turn the invisible pages in his hand. "Sexual assault eh? Tsk, tsk, tsk. He was just a kid then, didn't know what he was doing. Such a foul crime for such a young boy to commit. Awww. Lucky he got away right?"

"Stop it…"

"Let's go back to the recorded stuff. What about when his next parole for hit-and-run is, shall we?" the information broker continued to flip through the invisible files in his hands. Files no one could see, but him.

"STOP IT!"

Etsuya roared. The warden outside didn't budge. The information broker slowly opened his eyes, his rust coloured hues almost gleamed red like the devil's blood.

"As you can see, I know everything about your family. Things only you and I currently know. Things that can crumble them into dust. I have you on a leash Eizan-kun like a pet ferret. You have probably realised now, you have been depending on me for a long time, ever since you stepped into my office in Shinjuku as a first year student."

Etsuya struggled to keep his breath steady, his nails dug into his skin, his pulse was erratic and his thinking was clouded by immeasurable fury.

"I… still don't understand…" Etsuya was getting really pissed at the constant display of bullshit.

"Aaaaannd there's the back of the shirt" the information broker snickered.

Etsuya was getting sick of being tugged and manipulated.

"Knowledge is everything, see. Knowledge is owning. No one knows it better, than the one being owned" giggled the information broker. "I don't keep electronic files of my buying and selling information. They could be hacked. Nor do I keep hard-copies, because they could be stolen. It's all in here" he tapped his head.

"So you don't have any hard, solid documents then…" said Etsuya.

"Rarely, I send out for something only when I really need it, but otherwise I just remember it all" he shrugged.

Etsuya looked up into his conniving, slanted eyes. "You've got to be kidding me. Then you don't have anything to back up what you say. You have no proof!"

"The newspapers don't need proof to print. They exist just to deliver stories. They don't care about proof and evidence the way the police do. They are a lucrative business. They want information, scandals and stories that just sell. One call to The Japan Times and Tootsuki is done for, half the food industry of Japan is done for, your family is done for"

"You wouldn't…" Etsuya seethed.

"I've done it before, Eizan-kun" he said casually, checking the dirt under his fingernails like a school girl, short of having a nail file.

"Another thing I want to mention. Can't help myself! Your mother in Karakura Hospital"

Etsuya sucked in a shaky breath.

"How's her chemotherapy doing? Holding up? No… I didn't think so. Enough about that, I heard there's a new drug to treat throat cancer called Ostacosin. Ohhh… I see you've heard of it, given by your facial expression. It's already finished its phase two clinical trial and almost about to receive FDA approval in The States, and will soon be distributed. I heard it's got really great results! That pharmaceutical research company are thinking of doing a phase three trial overseas and Japan is the most likely candidate due to our stringent quality control. It makes for good marketing and is cheaper. Wouldn't it be even greater if it gets approval from the Japanese government to do clinical trials in Japan? I think its eligibility criteria also includes stage two cancer patients, like your mum. She could apply to be a trial participant for one of the biggest medical breakthroughs in the world and be cured!"

Etsuya 's fists shook. How dare he bring his family into this! There were bits and pieces in that information Etsuya knew to be true because he researched it himself. But he didn't know about the phase three trial planning to be conducted in Japan. At least if everything went well…

"Or~ wouldn't it be really terrible if that pharmaceutical research company in the US got themselves bankrupt, or the grant money gets funneled elsewhere and they no longer have the capacity, finance nor the approval to conduct a third trial in Japan or distribute this new wonder drug after the phase two trial. That way, the drug never gets out to even make it to international waters and the Japanese health department services will never get their hands on it. All I need to do is leave the odd document I type up lying around and whisper in the right ears, small-talk in the right channels to tempt people into making bad decisions. Am I right?"

Etsuya collapsed onto the chair.

"All of that could be avoided if you. Never. Mention. Me" the manipulative bastard cackled.

Etsuya felt drained, not just fatigue, but also his willpower. He was literally played by this motherfucker. How could he have been so blind! Now he had nothing else to protect his school and his family except to throw himself to the wolves to cover for the slimy information broker. He spoke like he'd done this a million times, so full of confidence, cheek and disrespect. This information broker had no respect for other people and enjoyed seeing them squirm helplessly at the bottom of a barrel of shit. The way his rust-coloured eyes mocked him with every word that cut into Etsuya was sickening.

"Have you heard of a man named Nakamura Azami? No? Hmmm… Tootsuki must have really tried very hard to erase everything on their records. Anyway, he goes by Nakiri now. But there is no such thing as being 'completely gone'. There are ways to dig that up and I'm sure your friends will be smart enough to figure it all out. I took a stroll down into my mind palace, information vaults, whatever you want to call it before I came here. He's done some wicked things for Tootsuki, not just you, which I'm sure will make an enormous bonfire on its reputation. He's quite a vengeful man, I must admit. He gave me a call yesterday asking if I could extract some information for him"

Etsuya 's mind stumbled. 'Nakiri?!'

"I wonder if I should…?" he sighed and threw his head back.

"Why don't you then… " snarled Etsuya.

"I could, but it will too easy and the fun stops. I'm letting you have this little piece of information on the house"

"Why would you do such a thing?" asked Etsuya.

"I want to see what you do with it. See if you could save your precious school from inside your little cell. I can change my mind whenever I like and sell Nakiri Azami the information he needs. So you remember that. The police are going to ask for the public prosecutor for another ten-day extension on your case and my spider-senses tell me they're about to uncover something bigger than you, because Eizan-kun, you're nothing but a pawn in the big, green, economic world. Doesn't it feel better to actually know that? Probably not." The information broker got up from his seat and spread his arms out.

He crossed over the other side of the metal table. Etsuya clenched his fists painfully on his knees. Unmoving, trapped like an Egyptian mummy tightly embalmed by layers and layers of suffocating bandages.

"You piece of shit…" he managed to spit out in an enraged whisper.

"Human beings are weak, selfish, malleable, ductile and pliable. Like soft, wet mud. Their reactions are so interesting and unpredictable, especially when you put them in such chaotic situations, they have no choice but to bend to the laws of the victor or fight back like the evolutionary animals they are. That's why humans make such good television fodder. Humans are capable of great generosity, kindness, selflessness and love. Best of all, humans are the only creatures in the world that kill for pleasure, deceive for pleasure, physically, emotionally and mentally torture for pleasure and that makes them abhorrently beautiful"

The information broker's shoes echoed around the room as he stopped just short of the metal door.

"That's why I love them" he snickered.

The last thing Etsuya heard before the blood roared in his ears was the deafening boom of the metal door slamming shut behind him, and the continued clacking of the information broker's shoes on the linoleum as he melted back into the shadows. The cold and lonely silence choked him slowly and painfully.


Well shit... Eizan.

Takumi and Ayame is about to enter a whole new territory! Looks like he's stealing kisses wherever he can. Isami is really in love with his Bianca~

I hope you guys liked this chapter! I enjoyed writing it very much. I actually feel my heart beat fast as I did haha.

Thank you for all the support, you guys have been really lovely! See you sometime soon!

Signing off

-Tripwire