Yukio saw Kyoko together with Urufu
and Noriko across the street and waved. To his chagrin she didn’t
even notice his arrival, but when his body guard left for the car and
got inside she must have seen something moving, because her hand went
up and Yukio saw her looking straight at him.
Something
happened? he thought when he saw how dark her face was.
Traffic was
heavy, so Yukio impatiently trod his own feet waiting for a chance to
cross. It came just as Urufu turned and looked for whom Kyoko was
waving at, and halfway across the street Yukio was met by both
Urufu’s and Noriko’s hands as well.
“What’s up?”
Yukio said as soon he was safely on the pavement on the other side.
Above them
daylight had long since given way to night; had done so earlier now
when November crept towards December. A sudden bite in the air
announced the approach of winter, even though neither Urufu nor Kuri
ever accepted that Tokyo had anything resembling winter in the first
place.
“Nothing’s
up,” Urufu said, and those words had Yukio realise the answer had
been late in coming.
“You look a lot
morose for nothing to have happened. Spill!”
Urufu’s eyes
avoided his, but Yukio saw him glance at Kyoko and Noriko both.
“The grown-ups
are playing dirty little games of power inside,” Noriko said
instead.
“Who’s
winning?” Yukio didn’t feel like waiting for the trio to slowly
spit out the story in bits and pieces. Urufu once taught him how to
cut to the chase, and by now Yukio felt confident he was better at it
than Urufu.
“Winning?”
Urufu said.
“The dirty
games,” Yukio clarified.
“Eh, I guess we
are.”
“But it’s
taking too long?” Yukio guessed.
Angry nods from
Kyoko and Noriko confirmed his suspicion. Kareyoshi’s actions
finally made someone willing to bring the axe down on him, or rather
several someones, but right now they were probably jockeying for
power rather than swinging that blade.
“Urufu, can you
promise the end result will be disgustingly awful for Kareyoshi?”
“I can’t
promise anything.”
“Then,” Yukio
began and looked at Kyoko, “we can’t wait.” He stepped past the
trio and opened the door to the café.
“Yukio, wait!
What do you think you’re doing?”
Yukio grinned,
but he didn’t turn. He did however wait for the bell to jingle to
add some extra effect to his next statement. “If you can’t, then
I’ll find someone inside who can give us that promise.”
“Yukio, you
really shouldn’t...”
“My man! He’s
all my man,” Kyoko’s voice interrupted Urufu’s attempt at
stopping him.
Still grinning
Yukio went inside. They’d been a couple for close to a year and a
half now, but Kyoko still knew how to say exactly the things that
made his heart go bump in his chest. Behind him he heard the door
close to the sound of the bell, and he imagined how Urufu stood
staring at it mouth agape.
Now the question
was where those playing a dirty game were. The café proper was its
usual jumble of odd furniture and students in their gakuran and
sailor uniforms from Irishima High mingling with the few Himekaizen
uniforms who still dared to go here.
By now anyone
here still sporting a Himekaizen sports jacket had attained an almost
mythical status, and Yukio received a much warmer welcome than had
been the case a year earlier.
Yukio nodded at
James, who stood at his usual place behind the counter, and then he
turned to face eyes meeting his. “Where are the really old people?”
Yukio said. Some of Urufu’s rudeness had rubbed off in a good way.
“Inner room,”
a female voice answered.
Yukio searched
for the owner and found Ai. She had dyed her hair again, and once
again to a darker brown tone. It was as if she slowly wanted to look
as unobtrusive as possible after her crashed relationship with Ryu,
and Yukio felt sorry for her. Just sorry though. He wasn’t about to
help her, because with Ryu and Kuri dating, and Urufu getting
accustomed to being with Noriko, their respective worlds finally
stopped being full of thorns.
“Thank you,”
Yukio said and made his way behind the counter.
An opened door
later he was inside, facing old men who should have scared him a lot
more than they did.
“This room is
booked for the evening,” a man who had to be Ai’s father said.
They did scare
him. He was just a sixteen year old boy after all. Still, he had all
but promised Kyoko an end to Kareyoshi’s atrocities. On shaking
legs Yukio pretended he hadn’t heard and walked to the grand table
and pulled out a chair.
“It’s
booked,” another man said.
A very, very
scary man Yukio admitted to himself when he met cold, calculating
eyes. He forced himself to sit down and plastered a false smile to
his face.
“Christmas,”
Yukio said. “We’re just kids, and we can’t do much,” he
added.
“Christmas?”
Nakagawa-sensei asked, and for the first time since entering the room
Yukio felt at least a little warmth from one of the men inside.
“We know adults
who will help us if we ask,” Yukio explained.
He only got a
questioning gaze from his former principal in return.
“After
Christmas, if Kareyoshi’s not gone, well ask,” Yukio added.
There was a
moment of silence, just a moment, but it was enough for Yukio to
realise he had successfully thrown the dice in this dirty gamble of
adults.
“Do you really
believe you can threaten us,” the really scary man said. “Do you
have any idea of what kind of power we represent?”
Yukio did. If he
hadn’t he wouldn’t have dared doing this. “Kareyoshi had Kuri
assaulted last year. He put Kyoko, Urufu and me in hospital. Now two
girls were raped because of him,” he said, still ashamed he
couldn’t recall the name of the Korean girl. “With all that power
of yours, what have you planned on doing to us to make us more afraid
than we really are?”
This time the
silence settled into the room. He had gained what Urufu called
leverage. What an ugly word!
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