Chapter 13
Scars of the Past
It was dark. Her back against the wall, Tsuki sat curled up on the floor, arms wound tightly around her knees, trembling. Staring with wide-open eyes at the dim light seeping through the crack in the door, she was too scared to cry. Paralyzed by fear, she prayed that the corner of the closet she was in would swallow her whole, drown her in darkness, make the shouting coming from the outside stop.
After being gone for nearly two weeks, her father had come home again. The more time passed, the longer his absences became — recently, Tsuki could see it in her mother's eyes she was hoping that, eventually, he would not return at all. But he did and this time, just like all the other times before it, he was completely drunk. It had not taken long before he started another fight. He was out of money again. That evening, however, it seemed her mother had had enough. That evening, she decided to stand her ground — she wanted him gone for good.
They had been enjoying dinner when her father returned. At the first signs of what was inevitably to follow, Tsuki ran and hid in the closet, pushing her small body as far into its lightless corner as she possibly could. The longer the argument lasted, the louder and more incoherent her parents' words became. She pressed her palms against her ears as hard as her arms allowed her to drown them out.
All of a sudden, the cacophony of yells was joined by the shrieks of shattered porcelain and glass. Then, a single desperate scream and the muffled thud of something heavy tumbling to the ground. Then, there was silence.
"...Tsuki-chan?"
Tsuki's blood turned to ice when she heard her father call out to her.
"Tsuki-chan! Where are you?!"
From what she could tell from the changing distance of his calls, he was now walking around the house, searching for her. She wanted to run, but she found herself unable to move.
"Tsuki-chan! Wherever you are, come out this instant, you useless brat!"
A shadow passed right outside the closet door. If she could make herself any smaller, she would. She could swear her heart was about to burst out of her chest; her breaths quick and shallow, she felt like she was suffocating. Then, there was a sound of toppled furniture, followed by a violent curse — he must have drunkenly stumbled into something along the way. A moment later, she heard the front door slam shut, the sound of footsteps becoming increasingly distant. Then, everything became deathly quiet.
Tsuki did not know how long she sat there before she calmed down enough to be able to think again. Usually, after her father had gone, her mother would come to find her — she knew of her hiding place all too well by now. She would slide the door open, take her in her arms, and comfort her. This time, she could not hear any movement. Still shaking, she slowly crawled out of the closet.
"Mama?..."
There was no response. Walking back to the living room on stiff legs, she saw their apartment looked as though there had been an earthquake — everything that could be moved was in disarray. The bowls, plates, and glasses they had been using lay scattered on the floor, some of them shattered, the food her mother had prepared now littering the area around the table. Trying her best not to step on any of the pieces, Tsuki made her way towards the kitchen, calling out to her mother all throughout. She was nowhere to be seen.
After a few steps, she noticed her mother lying on her side on the floor. Crying, she ran to her and dropped to her knees. She froze, the color draining from her face.
"Mama!"
Her mother's face remained motionless, her eyes open, staring blindly at nothing.
"Mama!... Wake up!..."
Tsuki raised one hand from the floor to touch her mother's lifeless body. It came off slick — when she turned it to look at her trembling palm, it was stained with the most vivid scarlet she had ever seen. Glancing down at the floor, she noticed the last remnants of her mother's life pooling next to her head, filling the lines of grout between the tiles.
Horrified, she stumbled backwards, then scrambled to her feet and darted for where the house phone was. It turned out to be one of the few remaining items that were still in its place. She picked up the receiver and dialed the emergency number, her fingers leaving crimson stains on the buttons. After what seemed like eternity, someone answered.
"Help… Please…" she cried into the receiver, barely able to keep her knees from buckling under her. "M-My parents had an argument and… and now mama's on the floor and… there's blood… She… She's not moving!... Please!… Please help!..."
She desperately cried out for help, but even to her young mind it was clear that there was no amount of help in the world that could fix what had just happened.
Somehow, between the sobs that were now racking her body, she managed to give the person on the other side her name and address. Once the call was done, she staggered back to the kitchen in a daze. She felt light-headed when her mother's body came into view once more. With all her small heart, she hoped that she would wake up from this living nightmare. Any moment now, she will open her eyes, get out of bed, then go hug her mother and cry her heart out. In turn, she will comfort her and assure her that it had been nothing but a bad dream and that everything was going to be alright… However, her mother's unchangingly lifeless eyes kept telling her that this was no dream.
"Tsuki-chan?"
Hearing her father's voice again so unexpectedly chilled her to the bone. It sounded distant, as though he had not yet entered the house. Once again, she began shaking all over.
"Tsuki-chan!"
This time, she could hear it clearly — it had come from directly behind her. A rage the kind of which she had never known exploded inside her.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"
With an animalistic roar, tears rolling down her face, she spun around and started lashing out blindly with all the strength she possessed in her small arms.
"I'll kill you!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, punching and slashing at the man in front of her. "I'll fucking kill you, you son of a—!"
"Wake up, dammit!"
The next moment, her eyes flew wide open. Her heart was racing, breaths ragged and shallow, and she could feel the cold sweat on her forehead. It took her a few moments to recognize her surroundings — she was in her apartment, sitting on her living room sofa. She could not recall lying down, but the blanket that now lay crumpled in a pile on the floor suggested she must have fallen asleep. Fully awake now, she saw Majima right in front of her — a mixture of confusion and fear on his face, he was holding her firmly by the wrists. She relaxed her arms, but he did not seem willing to let go.
"Ya alright?"
"I… What…?"
Focusing her gaze on his face, she noticed three pink lines running at an angle across his left cheek, their reddish pink shade turning deeper by the second, vivid against his pale skin. Instantly, it dawned on her what must have happened.
"Oh, god… Did I…? I'm so sorry!... I didn't mean to—"
For a mercy, it did not seem like she had drawn blood.
"What in the world are ya on about?"
"Y-Your face…"
"Haw?..." It appeared that only then did he become aware of the scratches even being there. "Forget it, it's nothin'. More importantly — ya okay now?"
She nodded, still in disbelief at the situation she was finding herself in. He let go of her arms and moved to sit down on the far side of the sofa. Meanwhile, Tsuki pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her shins.
"What the hell was that? For a sec there, I thought ya really wanted to kill me."
"Not you…" she said quietly, as if to herself.
"Huh?"
"Never mind… When did I even fall asleep?"
Glancing at a clock that stood on one of the cabinets, she saw it was now well past one a.m..
"Uh… 'Bout two hours ago? Didn't wanna wake ya an'... I kinda ended up dozin' off for a bit, too. Woke up, went out for a smoke an' that's when I heard ya moanin' in yer sleep. By the time I got back, ya were cryin' out for yer mother. Thought I'd try to wake ya, but… when I called yer name, ya suddenly started pummelin' me an' scratchin' like some kinda wild animal."
She pressed her forehead against her legs, hiding her face.
"I'm so sorry… I haven't had that dream for such a long time that I thought maybe I wouldn't anymore… Never thought I could actually hurt someone because of it… This is why I'm better off alone…" She spoke the last sentence so quietly that it came out as incomprehensible mumbling. She turned her head to glance at him. "...I'll get you some ice for the scratches."
He immediately stopped her with a raised hand.
"Ya stay right there. I'll go look for it myself if it'll make ya stop worryin' 'bout it."
He came back shortly after with a small ice bag and two glasses of water, and sat down next to her. Accepting the glass from him, she drank it all in one go. For some time, neither of them seemed inclined to speak of the elephant in the room. Pulling the ice bag away from his cheek, Majima was the first to break the awkward silence.
"So, uh… Wanna talk 'bout it?"
"I'm not sure…"
Tightening the hold around her legs, she turned her face away. Majima could tell she was clamming up, trying to hide away from the world, away from him.
"Well, I ain't gonna force ya. But ain't ya the one who always says that talkin' 'bout stuff that bothers ya can help?"
"That's true, but… There are some things which talking won't help with, no matter how many times you do it." She paused, still reluctant to look at him. "Have you ever experienced something so… horrible that it haunted your dreams even years after it happened?..."
Her quietly uttered question hit closer to home than she could ever know.
"I… Yeah… The day I lost my brother an' ended up chained up in the hole, not knowin' what had become of him — used to wake up all covered in sweat after relivin' it in my dreams. Just like I saw ya do today."
"Then, you know how hard it is to talk about such things…"
He studied her curled-up form for a few silent moments. Even when she told him about the time she had spent as a member of a street gang, and about the betrayal she had suffered from the one person she had trusted most, she had been nowhere near as crestfallen as she was now.
"Look — if ya don't wanna do this, then don't. I ain't tryin' to guilt trip ya into it. But if there's anythin' I can do to make ya feel better right now, just tell me."
"No, I… You're right. I think I at least owe you an explanation after what I've done..."
"What, this?" he pointed to the lines on his face. "It really ain't as big of a deal as you're makin' it out to be," he brushed it off. "An' if anyone asks, I'll tell 'em it was a cat or somethin'."
Hearing his words, Tsuki chuckled weakly. She felt awful about what she had done, even if it had been unintentional. That he was willing to dismiss it so easily provided what little relief there was to be found in the current situation.
"I told you I lost both my parents pretty early on, right?"
"Ya did mention that, yeah."
"And I told you it was an accident, didn't I?"
"Mm. What of it?"
"Well… There's a bit more to that particular story…" she sighed. "It wasn't exactly an accident… Or, at least not the kind you're probably thinking about."
"Huh? What's that s'pposed to mean?" he furrowed his brow.
"I guess it'll be best if I start from the beginning…" She turned her face towards him again, but did not look at him. "See… Before it happened, I lived with my parents in Aoyama. My father worked for a large company and held a high enough position that we could afford a pretty luxurious life, even with my mom taking care of me and the house full-time."
"Aoyama, ya say? Sounds like a dream."
"It… was a dream, even if I was too young to appreciate it back then. One I was quickly woken up from."
He remained quiet, letting her speak at her own pace. If this was as painful for her to recall as he thought, giving her time was the least he could do.
"One day, my father supposedly botched an important business deal that ended up costing the company a fortune. He lost his job practically overnight. Then, the higher-ups, people that supposedly were his friends, turned on him and made sure to smear his name badly enough in the industry that he was unable to find work anywhere else. But, instead of selling our house and moving somewhere less expensive or trying to find a job in a different field, he chose to succumb to despair… He started drinking and gambling. He'd come home drunk every night, then leave again the next day or the day after that. Unsurprisingly, he blew through all of his savings pretty fast, while our debts just kept piling up. Soon after, he started asking my mother for money to fuel his addictions, knowing she had savings of her own. They began fighting over it on the regular, but my mom still indulged him for a while. I guess… she was hoping he would eventually see reason. When it became clear that wouldn't be the case, she began standing up to him. That's when he started beating her."
"An' this happened when ya were still a kid? Hell…" Majima shook his head in distaste.
Taking a deep breath, Tsuki shifted her position to rest her head on the sofa's back, and stared at the ceiling.
"Yeah. I was a weak, pampered kid, barely ten years old at the time. I was powerless to do anything… or so it seemed to me then. After some time, whenever father came home and started arguing with mom, I'd hide in a closet until it was over. I was scared shitless every time I heard him enter the house…"
"Why didn't yer mom file for a divorce? Or take ya somewhere else, away from him?" Majima frowned. "Hell, why didn't she get the cops involved?"
"Good question… I can only guess. Maybe she was too proud and thought that we could weather the storm until the day he ended up in a ditch somewhere? Or maybe she still loved him, despite the mockery of a man he had become? Now that I'm an adult myself, I sometimes wish I could ask her what the hell she was thinking."
"So… that's what ya were dreamin' about?"
"No… The part that came after."
He was slowly starting to connect the dots. The more he heard, the more he dreaded the direction in which he suspected her story was going. He knew the events she was recounting took place more than two decades earlier, but it did not make it any easier to hear.
"Don't tell me…"
"Yeah."
In a flat, emotionless voice, she recounted the events of the night her father killed her mother in a drunken rage.
"I don't remember much after that… It's all nothing but a jumbled mess… Flashes of the places I was taken to. And the questions… So many questions about my parents and about that night… And the piercing realization that nothing would ever be the same again. That I'd lost everything that was dear to me — and that the one who took it all away was my own father. Later, the police took what I'd told them as my statement so they didn't have to drag me to court to testify, for obvious reasons, so… that night was the last I saw of him."
"What 'bout all the debts he racked up?"
"I was told to waive all possible inheritance if I didn't want to deal with them — so I did," she heaved a sigh. "I'd had everything a child could want, but I only realized it after I'd lost it all. And with no living relatives who could take me in, I ended up at an orphanage with pretty much nothing to my name."
"Didn't the orphanage try to find foster parents for ya?"
"...They did, at first. But, after two families couldn't handle me, screwed up as I was, word spread, I guess, and nobody tried taking me in again, so the people at the orphanage stopped trying to find a place for me, too."
When she finished, there was absolute silence. Majima searched for the words with which to respond, but his mind was drawing a blank. In light of the horror and despair she had gone through, was there even such a thing as the right words to say? But it did explain some things. It only reinforced his idea that even people who normally seemed confident and strong could be hiding truths that they preferred never see the light of day. Perhaps, that was the exact reason why they grew to be strong.
"That's… fucked up. I know my words mean jack shit right now, but… I'm real sorry ya had to go through somethin' so terrible."
"Yeah, well… It took me years to process it and to come to terms with the guilt I felt. I thought I was past it… but after what happened today, I don't think my brain got the memo."
"Things like that don't just go away, y'know. They stay with ya forever, even if ya think ya got over 'em."
Turning to look at her again, he saw a single tear roll down her cheek.
"I blamed myself for my mother's death for so long…" she sniffled, her voice breaking. "I kept fighting the rage, the hate, the shame I felt — and when that wasn't enough, I started taking it out on other people. I fought throughout my teenage years, then kept fighting when I joined the street gang. I fought and I fought, only ever focused on getting stronger… As if doing that would somehow bring my mother back…"
"So that's what ya meant when ya said ya were an angry kid when ya came to Kamurocho…"
"Yeah… But all that did was make me sink lower and lower. At the end of the day, I lived my life for revenge, making sure I was ready for the day my father would get out of jail — if that day would even come. In hindsight, it's good the bastard died in prison or we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Majima stared at her, baffled. She seemed absolutely broken, defenseless — he had never seen her like this, never even imagined he ever would. As if able to share a portion of her suffering, he felt a searing pain rip through his chest. In fact, it had been building for some time, but now it was becoming unbearable. He wanted to take her into his arms, hold her close, and tell her that everything would be fine. But he found himself unable to move. The last thing he wanted was for her to see it as him trying to take advantage of her, vulnerable as she was. He wished he could somehow ease her pain, but, at the same time, knew that wounds like that could never truly be healed.
Meanwhile, Tsuki took a deep breath, and sat up straight again. Wiping the tears from her face, she reached for a pack of cigarettes stashed away on the narrow shelf under the coffee table. The moment was gone.
"So yeah, that's that. I need a smoke… Want to join me?"
"...Ah."
They stepped out into the chilly darkness outside, the air crisp enough to send a chill down one's spine. It was no wonder — with the middle of November right around the corner, the nights were growing colder with each passing day. However unpleasant the temperature might have been, it was a beautiful night, with no clouds in sight, the waning moon peeking from behind the city rooftops. High up enough for any noise from the streets below to not be bothersome, the surrounding area was quiet, probably in part due to the hour growing late as it was.
There were two chairs on the relatively small balcony of her apartment. Having picked up an ashtray that lay on one of the seats, Tsuki sat down and Majima followed suit. He took the ashtray from her hands and placed it on his knee so that they could both use it.
"Way for me to ruin our movie night, huh?" she smiled at him bitterly, lighting up her cigarette.
"Stop it. It ain't yer fault," he replied, taking the lighter from her outstretched hand.
"And yet, if I just fell asleep and woke up like a normal person, it would be embarrassing, sure, but at least it wouldn't be… like this."
"Like what, exactly?"
"Awkward? Dark? Like I'm some kind of psycho? I don't know…"
"It ain't. An' ya ain't. Nothin' ya coulda done as a lil' kid."
"What I could and couldn't have done doesn't matter anymore, I guess… What's done is done," she summed up, then scoffed. "Probably not what you expected to hear, though, was it?"
"Wasn't expectin' 'an accident' to be a euphemism for somethin' that fucked up, that's for sure… What I wanna know is…" He looked in her direction from the corner of his good eye. "Did talkin' 'bout it make ya feel any better? I'm the one who suggested it, but now I feel like maybe I shoulda just kept my mouth shut…"
She pondered his question for a while in silence.
"It did, actually… Feels like a weight's been lifted from my shoulders. I've… never actually opened up about my parents like that to anyone. Definitely not in so many words… Even Aki doesn't know the details and that it was a big part of why I ended up joining a street gang," she said, taking a long drag of her cigarette, her tone one of solemn realization. "But when you're around, I feel like I can speak about these things and, somehow, I know you'll listen. It's weird…"
Looking up at the starry night sky above them, a relieved smile lifted the corners of Majima's mouth.
"Ain't nothin' weird 'bout it," he tittered. "Been thinkin' somethin' similar 'bout ya, too, y'know?"
"Really?..." She paused, a gentle smile now on her lips. "I guess it is easier to talk about stuff like that with someone who's been through some heavy shit themselves, huh?…"
"Guess so."
The silence that followed was, unlike earlier, the comfortable kind of quiet shared between close friends.
"Thank ya for tellin' me," Majima spoke up, shaking the ash from the tip of his cigarette. "Or, rather… for trustin' me enough to tell me." After what he had heard, it was all beginning to fall into place in his mind. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"
"Mm."
"Is that why ya don't like people callin' ya 'Tsuki-chan'? 'Cause of yer old man?"
"...Yeah. But not only him," she replied after a moment of hesitation. "It's gotten better with time, but, at the start, hearing it was like rubbing salt into a wound."
"I can imagine." He took another drag of his cigarette. "From now on, I won't do it anymore. Sorry I kept doin' it, even after ya told me not to."
"No, actually… Don't stop," she shook her head. "Somehow, when you say it, it's… different. I don't mind it. And, besides, it's just another thing I've been running from. It's high time I faced it and learned to live with it."
"Ya sure 'bout that? 'Cause now that I know… it don't sit right with me. Hmm… Maybe I could come up with somethin' else instead?"
"Something… else? Like what?"
"Lemme think… How 'bout…" he furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "Oh! Got it! How's 'Tsu-chan' work for ya?"
"'Tsu-chan'?! Pfffft," she laughed at his new idea for a nickname for her. "No way — it's too cutesy. I'm not a little kid."
"Aww… I like it a lot, actually."
Hearing her laugh again was like a ray of sunshine peeking through the clouds after heavy rain.
"I said, no. You call me that in public and I'll… I'll start calling you Go-kun or something like that. How's that for a bargain?"
He responded by embarrassedly placing his free hand at the back of his neck. Something about the way she had said it tickled him on the inside, but he was not yet ready to make such a deal with her, no matter how much he liked his own idea for a nickname for her.
"Err… Alright, I see yer point. Let's stay with what we're used to."
"Glad you see it my way."
"...Can I call ya that in private, though?"
"Huh?"
"Ya said 'in public', so—"
"No. In public, in private, I don't care — just don't do it," she scowled at him, bringing the argument to a close.
It made him chuckle to see her so up-in-arms about something so small, but it was good to see that her mood was improving.
"Alright, alright, I won't."
During the few peaceful moments that followed, Tsuki put out her cigarette and dropped the butt into the ashtray.
"Say… What do you really think of me?"
Her sudden question caught Majima completely off guard. She had never asked him about herself so directly — he could not help wondering what had brought it on. Was it some kind of trap? A test?
"Haw? W-Where'd that come from?"
"I want to know."
"It ain't exactly easy to put somethin' like that into words, y'know… 'Specially when ya put me on the spot like this."
"Just give it a shot. Don't overthink it — whatever comes to your mind when you look at me. Go."
With a grimace of unease on his face, he tried to gather his thoughts as well as he possibly could to give her a suitable answer without saying more than he was willing to.
"W-Well… Uh… You're strong… Ya don't take shit from anyone… Ya can fight for what's important to ya, but, at the same time, you're kind an' do right by those who do right by ya. When somethin' gets in yer way, ya got the guts to put yer fists up an' face it head-on. An', seein' how stubborn ya can be, I bet you'd sooner get the livin' shit beat outta ya before you'd back down from fightin' what ya think is worth fightin' for."
"So, what it boils down to is… you think I'm strong. Then, let me ask you this: if a person uses their strength against those weaker than themselves, doesn't that show just how weak they actually are?"
Having taken the final drag of his cigarette, Majima tossed the butt into the ashtray alongside hers.
"Listen… Ya had every right to be angry at what happened to ya. How ya went 'bout dealin' with that anger is another thing entirely. Bein' who I am, me judgin' ya for it would amount to the pot callin' the kettle black, dontcha think?"
"I guess you do have a point. Still… Strength means nothing if you misuse it, and thinking you're strong when everything is going your way is a pitfall," she frowned. "Obtaining power, no matter what kind, lulls you into a false sense of security. You start believing that nothing can bring you down. And then, all it takes is a single day for it all to crumble under your feet. One moment you're on top of the world and the next you find yourself at the very bottom. You think you're strong, but, faced with adversity, you suddenly learn it was all fake…"
"Where're ya goin' with this?" he asked, even though he already suspected what she was trying to allude to.
"What do you think was… the lowest point in your life?"
It appeared that the brief spell of levity was not meant to last. The dark clouds of regret seemed to be gathering around them again, the sorrowful tension becoming palpable.
"Well… Losin' my bro, gettin' erased from family records, slavin' away in exchange for a vague promise of freedom… Lettin' go of the girl I cared 'bout, gettin' betrayed by my wife… Bein' stuck for years under a boss who first tortured me an' then used me like some kinda tool, feelin' powerless to change anythin' that was happenin' 'round me… Ya could say there's been a few. Why?"
"But still, all that time, you kept on fighting, didn't you? You never gave up."
"An' ya did? That what you're tryin' to say?"
"Yeah…" she gave him a bitter smile. "There was a moment when I felt so powerless, so… trapped that I chose to just… throw it all away."
"That don't really sound like ya…"
"And yet, it's the truth. Maybe… when you finally know everything about my past, you'll see that I'm not as strong as you think I am."
Majima turned to her again to object, but then hesitated. He saw she was holding her left wrist in her hand, rubbing the surface of the leather cuff around it slowly with her thumb.
"I know I've already shared a lot with you, and yet… there's still one part missing," she quietly said, a pitiful smile on her lips. "It's about what happened when my partner betrayed me."
It was just as he had suspected. The details of how she had left her street gang life behind and the nature of her partner's betrayal were the only blank spaces in what was otherwise a complete timeline of her past in his mind. They had already touched on the subject during their last heart-to-heart, but back then she had refused to talk about it further. Something had obviously changed in her attitude towards him if she was indirectly offering to talk about it now — and yet, all he could feel at that moment was sorrow.
"It's true that it's been buggin' me, but… Don't feel like ya hafta tell me somethin' you'd rather not," he protested tentatively.
"It's alright…" she suddenly looked him straight in the eye, but then her gaze wavered. "I mean… You already know what happened to my parents, so… you might as well have the full picture. Besides, it's better I tell you before you end up finding out some other way."
"Ya realize that if I wanted to find out, I woulda already, right?"
"And I greatly appreciate that you decided not to. It's just that… I know there have been rumors floating around about what happened back then, so if you haven't heard anything yet, I'd like to tell you my side of the story first."
He could not deny that he desperately wanted to know everything, but, after what she had already told him that night, he wondered how much more his heart could take if the rest of her story was anything like so far. That said, if her mind was set on sharing with him what he was by now certain must have been her most painful memories, how could he refuse to listen?
"Alright, if you're sure 'bout it," he sighed. Glancing her way again, he noticed she already had goosebumps on her arms from being out in the cold. "But, before that, let's go back inside. It's cold an' all ya got on ya is a lousy t-shirt."
He got to his feet and extended a hand towards her to help her stand up.
"Out of the two of us, I'm not the one who's half-naked here."
"Why ya always gotta focus on the details? C'mon. I could do with a stiff drink — an' somethin' tells me ya could, too. One thing, though…" He paused, realizing something. "Ya off the meds yet?"
"I am. Didn't need to take any after last time, so I should be alright. A drink is actually a nice idea."
Once they were both inside, he slid the balcony door closed behind them and waited until she made herself comfortable on the sofa again.
"Good, good. Ya got anythin' stashed away, then?"
"I don't have anything fancy, but I should still have some plum wine in the kitchen," she gave him a timid smile.
"It'll do. Be right back."
"Check the bottom cupboards for the bottle. You'll find glasses above the stove, by the way."
"Gotcha."
He returned with the bottle and glasses, and poured the liquor without uttering a single word, trying to mentally prepare himself in case what was to come was equally as nightmare-inducing as her last tale. She had said as much — it was the only one left. Was there a reason she had chosen to leave it for last, however? Perhaps it was simply too personal? Surely, it could not be worse than what she had already told him about that evening.
"It will be better if you sit a little closer this time, if you don't mind," she said, taking the glass meant for her from his hands.
He did as she had asked, then raised his glass to his lips. While she took a single sip of the wine, he emptied his glass all at once, then placed it back on the table. Slightly confused, Tsuki stared at him for a spell, but decided not to comment.
"Alright. Lay it on me."
"I'm sorry that it's going to be another long story… but there's just a lot I need to tell you for it all to make sense."
"Take yer time — I ain't goin' anywhere."
"So, um… It's… got to do with this," she said, gesturing at her left arm.
"The armband?"
The moment the words left his mouth, a terrible thought flashed through his mind. Oh hell no…
Clearing her throat, she put away her glass next to his. He expected her to say something, but, instead, she unclasped the leather cuff on her wrist and slid it off. Palm up, she extended her arm towards him so that he could see it clearly.
Less than an inch below where her palm ended, a jagged scar ran diagonally from the side of her thumb. The armband she always wore covered it well enough that he had never noticed anything remotely suspicious about it before. Now that it was gone and he could clearly see what it had been concealing, the realization of what was in front of him mortified him. Worse still, the implication of what it meant, given what he already knew of her past, made him sick.
Without thinking, he reached out and placed his hand underneath hers, his mind desperately trying to form words as he stared at it, the light in his single eye dimmed. Instinctively, she winced at his touch, as though she wanted to pull back there for a second, but then gave in to his gentle hold.
"Did… Did he make ya do this?" he asked once he had found his voice again.
"No… At least, not directly."
"I… I ain't sure what to say… What the fuck happened?"
She moved her arm back and, this time, he let her go.
"It… began with him inviting me for dinner and drinks at his place — he said we hadn't done anything like that in a while, which made sense. While we were together, he told me that some kind of a big job would soon fall into our lap and make us a tidy profit if we pulled it off, so our meeting was to also be a preemptive celebration. I trusted him, so I didn't suspect anything." She did not look at him as she spoke, her voice quiet and somewhat shaky. It was clear that recounting the tale was difficult for her. "I'm sorry… I'm just trying to gather my thoughts," she apologized after a pause.
"Don't be. I don't care how long ya need — I said I'd listen an' I ain't movin' 'til ya finish or tell me to get lost."
"Thanks…" she gave him a weak smile. "Alright, so… All I could remember afterwards was falling asleep at his place — the next thing I knew, I was in some dingy room with boarded-up windows, my hands and feet tied up. I had no idea what had happened, or where the hell I was… so I started yelling and, not long after, three sleazy guys in suits showed up at the door. They told me that if I wanted to live, I'd better do what they told me to. They spoke Japanese, but I could tell they weren't natives."
She had barely begun, but all that came to Majima's mind were expletives.
"Later, it turned out they were Chinese — some small Triad offshoot, apparently. Obviously, I spat in their faces and told them to go fuck themselves, but they just laughed and left. I screamed obscenities at them until I tired myself out, even though I knew they probably didn't hear me anymore."
"Sonuvabitch sold ya out to the Triads," Majima repeated in a low voice. He had heard numerous similar stories, but it did not make it any easier. Especially when it was her who was at the center of this particular one. Feeling the searing pain inside spreading once again, he refilled his glass and took another swig. "Human traffickers?"
"Yeah. You probably already know this, but they mostly deal in kidnapping foreign girls, taking away their documents, then forcing them into the adult entertainment industry."
"Ya ain't a foreigner, though, so why'd they go along with it?"
"My gang had some beef with them in the past. They despised us for making their business hard. So, when my partner served them someone who was rumored to take over in the near future on a silver platter — someone who herself had been a pain in their ass for a long time — they jumped at the opportunity to take revenge. I remember them saying they actually paid my partner a hefty sum in return."
Majima put the glass he was holding on the coffee table, realizing that if he held onto it, he would crush it in his hand.
"At first, I refused to believe the one man I felt I could let my guard down around would sell me out like that, but… the longer I lay there in the dark, the more sense it made to me. The surprise drinks we'd shared — I figured he must've drugged me, then handed me over… No physical pain I'd felt up to that point, nor ever since, compared to what I experienced that day…"
"...Ya said they wanted revenge," Majima spoke up, his voice strained from the mounting rage inside him. "They wanted to kill you?"
"Surprisingly, no. I guess it would've been too simple. They wanted to break me — to not only have the sick satisfaction of exerting complete control of me, but turning a profit at the same time, I suppose. Some people in the underworld would have paid through the nose to have their way with the girl who'd beat the shit out of them on collection jobs in the past. Imagine the videos they could make. 'The Black Wolf tamed' or some other fucked up shit like that."
"That ain't funny. I'm gettin' sick to my stomach just hearin' ya say it… What happened, though? Don't tell me they eventually managed to—"
"Break me? No… But they sure as hell tried," she said before taking a sip from her glass. "Being locked up like that was nowhere near enough to break me. So, when they noticed it wouldn't work, they started beating me. Hard enough to inflict pain, but not hard enough to cause permanent injury — didn't want to damage the goods at that point, obviously. It would happen every few days at first… then, daily. When they eventually realized the beatings were getting them nowhere as well, they moved on to the next step — they tried starving me."
"...What happened to not damagin' the goods?"
"I guess… The longer it took and the less likely it seemed that I would give in, the more they liked the idea of simply scrapping the whole potential profit angle and simply taking out their frustrations on me instead."
There was one burning question that had now creeped from the back of his mind — but he decided not to voice it. It did not matter. Pushing the bile in his throat down, he decided on a different one.
"How long were ya trapped there at that point?..."
"About one and a half months, from what I was able to piece together later."
"Alright… What did ya do, then?"
"Well… It wasn't like they'd been feeding me well before, but a total lack of food sent a clear sign to me. I knew I had to do something before I got too weak to do anything at all."
"Sorry to interrupt, but… What 'bout yer crew? You're tellin' me nobody noticed ya suddenly disappeared?"
"See, that's the curious thing… Initially, I'd been holding onto hope that, maybe, someone from the gang would catch wind of what'd happened and where I was — but no-one ever came. And the longer it went on, the less likely that scenario became. You know… I didn't entirely understand it — I still don't, as a matter of fact… I kept asking myself: is there really no-one out there who gives a single fuck about me up and vanishing like that?" She paused, studying the smooth, shiny surface of the glass in her hand. "I needed to know… to find out somehow, even if it was the last thing I would do… All the same, that was when I started to lose faith. In myself, in the people I had trusted, in society, in life itself… Eventually, the only things that kept me from giving up entirely were the hate I felt for those who had turned their backs on me and a burning desire for revenge. Those two emotions became the air I breathed, eclipsing everything else. I began hatching a plan."
"A… plan?"
"Of escape. I didn't care if they shot me the moment I got past my glorified cell. All I knew was that I had to do something, because no one else was coming to help me. I was frantic — I realized I had to find a way to break free as soon as possible, since time wasn't on my side. The longer I'd wait, the weaker I'd become from the beatings and the hunger. With that in mind, I waited for anything that I could use as a means to break out."
"Did… Did ya manage to do it?"
"I did. It seemed that my luck hadn't run out yet. They got careless. See, towards the end, it looked like the bastards who'd been torturing me began to lose interest in me, so they started sending a young guy to bring me water. I could tell he was new to the business from how nervous and uncomfortable he seemed, so… I decided to try playing the pity card. One day, he was there when one of the usual guys was beating me — maybe they wanted him to get used to what they did, I don't know. When the other guy was done, I asked for a glass of water. Just as I expected, the task fell to the youngster. When he came back, I pleaded with him to bring the glass closer and help me drink, pretending I was too weak to do it myself."
"An' he fell for it?"
"Yeah. Like I said, he looked inexperienced, so he probably didn't even know who I was. Or maybe he really did take pity on me, bruised and battered as I was?... Anyway… Knowing I'd only get one chance at it, I gathered up all my strength — and when he came close enough, I headbutted him with everything I had. Calling it a long-shot would be an understatement, but, like I said, it was the only shot I had. But it worked — I knocked him out."
"Holy… Alright. But, what then? How'd ya manage to cut loose?"
"I'd been observing him for a while at that point, so I knew he always carried a knife on him. Fighting off the dizziness my last resort move caused me, I found it and used it to cut through the rope they'd used to bind me. And then, I made my escape."
She poured herself another glass before continuing. Watching her, Majima tried to process what she had told him so far. He had never expected to hear a tale such as this. The more he heard, the more numb it made him feel. And the realization that it was something she had actually been through made it that much worse.
"My body was screaming from all the pain and fatigue, but it did not matter," she continued. "If that day was to be my last, as I suspected it could be, I was determined to go out guns blazing. In a way, those fleeting moments after I'd outwitted my captors were the most beautiful in my whole life… You could say I had never burned brighter than when I was tearing through the surprised sons of bitches in the corridors of the building they were keeping me in. I'd never been outside my room before… and as I searched for the exit, I heard cries, screaming, wailing. Other women, trapped there alongside me. But it didn't matter. I barely had the strength to keep up with my captors, there was no way I could help them and still hope to make it out… I don't know how many guys I went through, but, eventually, I found the exit. Imagine my shock when I burst out into the street and realized I was still in Kamurocho."
"Ya shittin' me right now?" Majima raised his eyebrows.
"I'm serious. But… I had no idea where exactly in Kamurocho I was. I was in a daze, running on fumes, so maybe my mind was too cloudy to recognize my surroundings. Didn't have much time to think about it, either. More guys were coming after me, so I decided to just run… But that was the end."
"The end? Whaddya mean?..."
"I was done. Right when I finally got out, my body gave up on me. I got as far as a closed-off alley, then collapsed next to some trash cans. Moments later, they caught up to me. The next thing I knew, I had three guns trained straight at me. I knew I was no longer able to fight them, I wasn't even able to stand up at that point. It was over."
"An' that's when ya gave up?..."
"Yeah," she nodded, taking another sip of the wine. "I knew I wasn't getting out of it alive. After what I'd pulled, I knew they'd just kill me and be done with it. But… I wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of shooting me like a dog. I grabbed an empty bottle that lay next to the rest of the trash, smashed it with the last of my strength, took a piece of the glass… And that's when I did it — looking them straight in the eye."
"...Fuckin' hell."
The whole thing was ridiculous, the ending to the story of her escape just adding insult to injury. How much shit could a single girl take? It felt ironic for him to ask himself that, having gone through hell himself. The difference was that he had known from the start that the life he had chosen would most likely lead to suffering. He had thought he had been ready for whatever her story was and yet he still felt like he was inches away from breaking. How could someone like her carry such burdens, yet still be able to smile? The longer he thought about it, the greater the rage and hate he felt inside grew. He had to clench his fists to stop them from shaking.
"Somethin' musta happened… What? How'd ya make it out?"
"Well… Witnessing what I did, they hesitated — long enough for the universe to give me a sign that it wasn't my time to go yet," she smiled pitifully. "As I lay there, life draining from me, I suddenly saw them fall, one by one, as if a storm had blown them off their feet. I thought I was hallucinating, but no — someone had actually come to my rescue."
"Who was it? Somebody from yer crew?"
"No," she scoffed. "Believe it or not, it was your old acquaintance."
"My ol' acquaintance?" he furrowed his brow, trying to figure out who she could be referring to. With the list of people she was aware he knew being so short, the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. "Hold on… Ain't no way in hell…"
"Yep… Master Komaki."
"Ol' man Komaki saved you?..."
"He did. I later learned he'd arrived in Kamurocho some time earlier and he happened to be in the vicinity. He made such quick work of those sons of bitches that it was surreal. Then, he gathered me up and found help. I could barely see by that point, but before I passed out, I burned his face into my memory. When I came to at the hospital, I swore that I'd find the man who saved my life to thank him and do whatever I could to show him even a fraction of the gratitude I felt. I owe him a debt that I can never repay for what he did that day…" She reached for the armband, then refastened it around her wrist. "Anyway… That was my greatest moment of weakness. That night, I'd hit rock bottom and didn't see any other way to make myself start going up again. I'm not proud of the choice I made… But now, at least, you understand why I choose to hide it from the world."
"You're wrong…" Majima quietly said, as if to himself.
His unexpected rebuttal made her look at him in surprise. He was slumped forward, elbows propped on his knees, absently staring at the floor. She could not see the look in his good eye, but from his body language and his tone, it was clear there was much on his mind.
"Wh—"
"Choosin' to die on yer own terms don't make ya weak. But it don't make it right, either. The Tsuki I know would never throw her life away like that — she'd keep on fightin', in defiance of the world 'round her."
"I told you… I couldn't fight anymore."
"If ya had enough strength to do what ya did, then ya also had enough strength to keep fighting," he admonished her. "It's just like ya said… Ya gave up."
Her eyes widened for a split-second, but the surprise in them quickly gave way to anguish.
"Back then… I was different than I am now," she sighed. "And at that moment, I had nothing left to fight for — or so I thought, at least. I'd never considered taking my life before then, nor ever since, but, at the time… I thought that doing it would be my final middle finger to the world. Deep down, I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to give those bastards the satisfaction of killing me, either. And I was sure they would. There was no way in hell they would let me go, so, even in the unlikely scenario where they didn't shoot me dead on the spot, they'd just quietly get rid of me afterwards. I didn't want to simply put my head on the chopping block and let them do it. What I did wasn't the right answer, and… I regret it, knowing what I know now, but it seemed like the only option I had."
Majima remained silent, so, after a short pause, she decided to continue, her mind running around in circles wondering what he thought of her now.
"You know… That day might have been the lowest I'd ever sunk, but… looking at it now, it was also a turning point. The whole ordeal taught me a very important lesson — that even when you've sunk so low you can't see the light anymore, you can always make it back to the surface, as long as you decide to fight. And that there's always someone out there who's willing to extend a helping hand and keep you from drowning. That's how I swore I'd live from then on — fighting, never giving up again, but not just for my own sake this time, but for the people around me. I'd thought that my time on the streets would make me strong, but, in the end, it almost led me to ruin. I decided I'd do everything I could to turn my life around. And I did. I drew a big line between my old self and the new, cut all my ties to the underworld, and went clean, ready to start walking the straight and narrow." Suddenly, she burst into nervous laughter, making Majima turn to face her in his bafflement. "To think that then, while I was recovering at the hospital… Just when I thought I was finally safe and that it was all over, I learned that… No, you know what — never mind," she stopped abruptly, shaking her head.
"That…?" he tried to meet her eyes with the gentlest expression on his face that he could muster.
"It doesn't matter at this point. And… it's too personal. I'm sorry — I got too caught up in my thoughts there for a moment…"
"Well… I won't push ya. I'm just… terrified there's even more to the story."
"Don't worry about it — really. It's not important, compared to the rest, anyway. For now, it's something I'd rather keep to myself."
He did not understand, but his mind was already enough of a mess as it was. There must have been a good reason why she was unwilling to share that part with him, and he would respect her wish.
"What happened to the traffickers?" he changed the subject slightly.
"They got busted. The police caught wind of what had happened and came to take my statement. I told them all I knew — which wasn't much — but it was apparently enough to bring them down."
"...Good."
His short acknowledgment preceded another period of tense silence. It was done, her two greatest secrets laid bare for him to see. Whatever happened from that point onward, at least she would know she had been true to him. She had made the choice to trust him with the knowledge of her most painful memories. What he did with it now did not matter anymore to her.
"So… Now you pretty much know everything. Heh… I was hoping that if I shared this with you, it would make me feel better about myself, like earlier…" she scoffed, eyes fixed on the nearly empty glass in her hands. "But now that I've said it all out loud, I feel more ashamed of myself than ever. Of how deluded and weak I was — and still am. Hiding behind a mask, pretending to be strong and confident in most everything I do — when, in truth, all I'm doing is cowering behind these walls I've built around myself. Serves me right for choosing to unload all of this on you for such a selfish reason, I guess. I'm sorry, for whatever it's worth, and… Now that you know just how broken I really am… I won't hold it against you if you decide to leave and never talk to me again after today."
She finished what remained of the wine in her glass and stood up — she felt the urge to run, to disappear, but there was nowhere she could escape to anymore. Even so, without sparing him so much as a glance, she took a few steps forward, desperate to put as much distance between them as she could.
With lightning speed, Majima shot to his feet and caught her firmly by the wrist. Startled by this, Tsuki swirled around to face him, meeting his gaze. It was as though she could see her own inner pain reflected in his single eye — but there was something else underneath it, too. Something intense, some other unspoken emotion that made her unable to look away. Before she had the chance to tell him to let go, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Shocked at this unexpected display of intimacy, her body went rigid, heart pounding out of control in her chest. The empty glass she had been holding onto tumbled to the floor. She could feel her face burn already and, this time, the alcohol was not to blame.
"Ya ain't weak. How… How can ya even say that?" she heard his voice next to her ear, his tone low and solemn. "I know how hard it can be to resist the urge to run an' hide from shit ya don't ever wanna face again… To push it down as far as ya can, hopin' it'll never come back up. Bein' able to tell someone 'bout it… That takes a lotta courage — an' strength."
Feeling the warmth of his body around her as he held her, hearing his words, tears began welling up in her eyes again. She closed them and took a deep, shaky breath. She felt safe in his embrace, much more so than she would have anticipated. Relaxing a little, she focused on the moment, realizing how welcome his embrace felt. Her arms trembling, she gently returned his gesture. It might have been an odd thought to have at a time like this — she realized she had never noticed it before, but… did he always smell this nice up close?
"Goin' through that hell an' comin' out the other way… That ain't weakness — it's the exact opposite. It's strength a lotta folks can only dream 'bout. The fact that ya managed to stand up an' build a new life for yerself after, find happiness, still be able to smile—"
"I tell myself I'm happy," she spoke up in a feeble voice. "I have no reason not to be, after all… But it always feels like something's missing. Like there's a gaping hole inside me that I can't fill, eating at my very being. In all honesty, I hate myself for it… I feel I can't truly connect with people because of it, no matter how hard I try…"
"Funny thing, that… From where I'm standin', it don't look like that at all. An' I don't think I'm wrong in sayin' ya are able to connect with people — ain't that why ya decided to open up to me?"
"I… I don't know… There's just… something about you that makes me feel it's alright for me to tell you things I otherwise would never tell anyone of my own free will. It's like… I feel you're someone who can relate to and understand what I'm talking about and… it makes me hope that you won't instantly think I'm a lost cause and cut all ties with me…"
"Hmph. Maybe that's 'cause I'm just as fucked up as ya are."
"When you put it like that… it starts to make sense."
"I'm still tryin' to wrap my head 'round all ya told me, but if there's one thing I can say, it's that… if ya needed to go through all that to become who ya are today… the Tsuki I know… then ya got nothin' to be ashamed of. Sorry, it's… kinda hard to put into words… Hope ya know what I'm tryin' to say…"
She did. Even if she tried, she doubted she could convey the joy his words and his support brought her. For a fleeting moment, she was truly happy in the embrace of another, wishing they could remain like that forever.
"Majima-san… I… I don't think anyone's ever seen it that way… Least of all me. Thank you…"
Forever was not in the cards for them that night, however. Soon after, he let her go, and took a bashful step back. He seemed nervous, one hand at the back of his head now in a clear display of embarrassment, as if he had realized he had done something he should not have.
"Sorry if that was a bit too forward… but it looked like ya really needed a hug there… I-It just felt like the right thing for me to do."
She grinned, trying to show him he had nothing to apologize for.
"...I did need it. I feel a lot better now, thanks to you."
"Yeah, well… Don't matter how many hugs I give ya, or what I say, I know it won't make that kinda pain go away. That said… I'm glad to hear it at least did somethin'. So, uh… If there's anythin' else I can do for ya — anythin' at all — just tell me… alright? I-I know it's late, but… I can stay with ya for as long as ya want, keep ya company… Then again, ya should prob'ly get some rest, seein' as it's almost mornin' already…"
Looking up at him, Tsuki noticed a slight blush coloring his cheeks. It was so unlike him to stumble over his words like this that it took her aback. At that moment, she was grateful to him beyond words, but, at the same time, she also needed time to process that night's events. Seeing him so flustered would have been absolutely precious — if it was not for the redness of his face making the scratch marks from earlier stand out even more than before. The guilt the sight made her feel was overpowering.
"T-Thank you, but… today's been really draining for me. I need some time to myself… to think about what you said."
Lowering his gaze, he responded with a somewhat crooked smile.
"I get it… Take all the time ya need. I ain't goin' anywhere, so… if ya feel like talkin' — 'bout anythin' — or hangin' out again before ya go back to work, lemme know."
"I will," she beamed, trying to push back the tears of both happiness and sorrow that stung her eyes.
If nothing else, that night let her hope that true friends could sometimes be found in the most unlikely of places. Slowly, she was beginning to give in to the fire that had been spreading through her heart, one which he had lit a spark for. She had sworn she would never give up again — but surrendering this particular fight was an exception she was increasingly willing to make. However, where there is light, there is also darkness — and it remained to be seen if the flame burning inside her was strong enough to dispel the shadows still blackening her soul.