There was a time that Imura once that he'd quit the gym, and start anew. Start over his life.
That thought only passed by today, with his eyes looking at over nothing in particular.
They let him go… They let him leave, all despite what he's done to them. Picked fights in alleys, asking for one person- and one person only. And when his opponents didn't tell him where, he'd continue beating them up. As ruthlessly as Nikaido was said to be, but didn't live upto completely today.
Even if they begged.
Even if they admitted that they didn't know, he'd constantly hit them. The fury in his heart never left, and battle mode was just as standard as conversing.
He'd hit and hit and hit, until the crimson came out of their nose, and they couldn't properly breathe. He'd hit until the fear in their hearts rose so much that they skip school for a whole day or more. But someone found the guts to tell the crew, despite the common threat he gave on occassions.
'Tell everyone that you met me, and I'll slit your throat.'
Something that many usually do not expect it to trail from such a quiet man like him.
They thought he was just another small time opponent. Imura'd make sure that they were as sorely mistaken as their sore hearts.
He stopped biting his nails, and peeling the upper membrane of his finger tips. He swiped his bed clear with his hands, messying its skin, and then crawled out of it, roaming the house now.
He'd been living here for as long as he remembers. For as long as his mind started to remember more extensively. Three bedrooms, all of which he uses depending on how he feels. Two bathrooms, one kitchen, and one changing room and one guest/living room. Ever since mom and dad became absent in his life, he's been the one paying the bills mostly. Including his cousin who barely gets time to meet. The layout was simple. Tables, chairs, shelves, stuck inside the kitchen. Wardrobes for each bedroom, two desks- one on each room, studying desk for Imura, work for father.
For an only child, Imura had many toys that still lingered around his bedroom. Toys that he never touches any longer after he hit twelve. They only stay here as part of the decoration. For now. Base ball equipment, cars, helicopters, and blocks.
Nowadays? He only uses those mma gloves he was gifted by a friend. So he could train on that punching bag hangiing in his room.
He slid the top drawer of his desk open. Once that was done, he picked through each book, looking for a certain black cover.
There it is…
He stared at the book for a moment, forgetting to close the drawer for now. He opened it, flipping rapidly through the pages of memories he's recorded within it. Until Page 94 came, he flipped once more, page 45---
'I'm sorry for what you went through. And I want to pay you back for it somehow.
-Yours truly,
Uncle Ichi.'
Uncle Ichi was just an affectionate way to call him. Ichiro Kashiwada was his full name…
Are you still alive, uncle?
He closed the book. And put it back in. Sliding the drawer back close. But then he opened it again and brought out the first book he could find below the diary. A children's novel…
'Ben's Journey Around Africa'. He used to read this even when he hit his highschool years. Been a year since he last read this. So he went back to his bed and tried to read through it. His eyes drifting over the words of the very first chapter:
'Ben had always been one of the curious child of the six-membered household. Ever since he grew eleven years old, he wanted to go travelling around the world in order to witness the beauty of nature, and to make memories he could hold in his heart forever. But his father would say no again and again, rudely so. His mother would say she'd be glad to, but she couldn't either. Once he grew strong enough to remain independent, maybe they could, his mother had told him.
Yet now once he did, the interest only worn out. And due to unfortunate circumstances, his mother passed away due to illness. But the years old curiosity still latched onto him like glue. He set stone for one state he wanted to visit. And that was africa. He---'
The book slammed shut. He just about threw it. Just about. His jaw puffed like a balloon, letting out urgent air of discomfort.
The pain…
The embarassment, the resentment.
The SICK and TWISTED sense of PRIDE AND EGO.
The laughs, the passion, the fists, the dirt, the tongues, the faces, the eyes…
I'm so close, right? So, so, close. So close to finding 'im.
I'll take you out, Wu Sha.
He sat by the edge of his bed. His back bent forward deeply. A shade casting on his unreadably lifeless face. I'm real close to cuttin' your head off and feedin' it to the dogs. He bit his nails, grinding it into his teeth.
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That night,
Downtown Nagasaki was bustling as always. Its neon lights shone like those in Tokyo, commercial buildings jumping moving letters around the screens. Men in suit with briefcases, civilians with bags and friends by their shoulders walked the pavement, some for office, some for home. All of them unaware of the turmoil that reeked his mind. Cars drove by and stopped, their beeps came in like conversations of their own. The air filled with mumbles and mechanical noises, mixing into the air hard enough to confuse anyone which is coming from what.
He didn't go for boxing tuition today. He skipped it. Instead he worked at the restaurant he usually worked in. The air was cold, and the walls were covered in all black. It looked more like a café than a restaurant, with its chairs, circular tables, and floor tiles. It was brimming just as much as it did outside.
Inside the kitchen, ground meat flipped on the grills making warm sizzles. Smoke came out from those same grills. Imura handled his own professionally, chopping onions small and bite sized at a fast rate, carrots, and even lettuces. He threw them all into a bowl and rained some oil, mixing it with his gloved hands.
"Salad's ready!" he called to the waiter that was conveniently inside the kitchen. A college kid like him. He was a little shy, but he did his work. He took it coyly and went out to serve.
Imura was a distant man akin to how he is to the people in his college. He doesn't have any friends to speak of here, but he doesn't shy away from conversations either. Many say how he works only because he must, not because he wanted to work and make buddies with any of them. Some even went out to say he was a strange man with good looks. Only speaking when the other speaks first; but when no one does, he only works like a program of some sort.
But today, it was a bit unusual. Creepy even. His face garnered bruises that didn't exist before. Imura only brushed it off as a simple 'accident' that he had in a reassuring way. Not a very helpful insight, but everyone kept quiet.
Once time for closing came, and when Imura was just about done cleaning the tables, he was interrupted so by Manager Eiji's call. Moving his right hand, motioning for ihm to approach him near the exit door. Imura did. And once he did, Mr.Eiji asked him with a curt smile on his face, "You doing alright?" he was talking about the bruises on his face. Imura replied, matter-of-factly, "I'm fine."
Mr.Eiji shook his head, his smile never left. Like the irony of the situation was urging him to laugh. "You got yourself involved in a street brawl. Yeah, sure you're fine." He snorted.
Imura's lips moved to form a smile, but the strength to do so barely remained. His head leaned to a side, his eyes flicked left then back as if to find an escape. "Is there…anything you need, manager?" he asked awkwardly.
"Do I?" Mr.Eiji replied, "Well no I don't. I was just checking on you, hm?" he pat his right shoulder, "Tomorrow's a day off, so you don't need to come tomorrow. By the way."
Imura slowly left without saying anything else. He pulled the glass door open, the outside breeze rushing to him warm, and the beeps outside rushing chaotically into his ears. The manager seemed to just watch him stand there outside for a moment..then watching him leave.
When Imura was already out walking alone, his mind went back to fixating on what he should do next. At the same time he was still on guard for anyone to come up and attack him. That Kasuga Nikaido roughed him pretty bad, so right now, he was focused on tracking him down and getting a rematch with him.
Moreso because he was 'fourth-in-command' with those crews. Therefore- that meant one and only one thing...
"BOOYAH!"
Imura whirled around quick and threw a backfist- "WOOOH…!" Mr.Eiji dodged it by a hair's breadth. Fortunately he was nearly outside striking range. A few persons already stopped by to see what was going on. Some already thought that this was a fight.
Imura glared at him like a cornered animal. Mr.Eiji laughed, putting his hands in front of him like a childish prankster admitting defeat, "Woah, woah, relax, bud!" he said. "Was just kidding with ya!"
Imura took time to relax. His hung up fist on the air slowly dropped down into a neutral stance. "…Sorry." He said. The small crowd that once formed went back to move. Some shrugged, some left disappointed. The two menawhile faced eachother. One of them like prey, the other like playful predator. Eiji approached him, jabbed his head forward- motioning for him to follow. Then thy walked beside eachother silently for a while. That was until Eiji broke that silence by saying, "I heard that you got beat up by Nikaido. Is that true?"
Imura's gaze never left the streets in front of him, "I was ambushed. That's why…"
"Huh," Eiji snorted again, "I'm sure boss's gonna be real disappointed in you."
"I know," Imura simply said.
"Then on the bright side- they could be leaving their guards down and let you be." He looked at Imura. "Shirogane crews do that. They bring up a bunch o' their men and intimidate you somehow. And for you, that happened to be in a fight with the fourth in command."
"Man, that name sounds so childish…" Eiji added, he was laughing under his breathe.
Imura kept quiet.
They continued to roam the glowy streets at night. In a way that seems like a father and son relationship somewhat. Mr.Eiji was a famous man around town, he constantly passed by people who greeted him with hello's and 'how are you's'. With the smile of a money-maker, he responds to those with either a nod, an upped thumb, or by saying, "Good to see ya."
He was a charismatic figure. But to Imura, he was rather strange. Mysterious. Charismatic? Sure, of course- it's just not in a way that spoke sincerity or legitimacy.
Eiji nudged him with the back of his right hand repeatedly. Calling him, "Someone wants to see you. Follow me here,"
-And would he be right that he's not all the way legitimate…
They turned left. A quieter part of town. But around this place, the yakuza would mostly walk around with cover. And so would small time gangsters.
The so-spoken Kurogumi family often reside around here. But their secrecy remained all too well to be cracked down properly.
They turned sharply toward an alleyway.
The door opened snailly.
"Hey!" Eiji's voice echoed around the big, cyan tinted room. "I got the boy. Here he is,"
His neck turned back slightly, his left eye peeking. Eiji silently told him to step forward, Imura obeyed. Approaching the only man inside of this room just sitting on a crate with his back facing him.
A cigarette was thrown aside, its front still glew.
The man spun around, looking at him with unbothered curiousity…
At first he thought Eiji was lying when he said the word 'boy'. But he could definitely see it in his build. At first he thought he was nothing special, but then again- "You're the guy who beat Eight fair and square." He said. His tone, unbothered. His posture, intimidating. And his face…spoke of many battles.
And not just his face, but also his arms. A scar that formed a line like a tattoo on his left one. Fists shaped like unassuming weapons. He was somewhere around middle-aged he seemed to look.
"Yeah," Imura replied. The man hummed before putting a thumb at himself, "Atouchi Kanda." He said. Then as if to do a class quiz, he said, "6th Chairman of what?"
"Kurogumi family." Imura replied. His gaze never faltered. "Good, good. You're a smart kid." Kanda said. He paused for a while, just staring at the young man in front of him. Now the more he looked into him, the more he got to get an idea of something…
Those bruises. That casual posture and that demeanour. It wasn't shyness by any means. It felt as though it was rather stoicism- or bravery.
"You're Imura Kashiwada. I know," he said so Imura knew. "Heard you roughed up a few of those Shirogane guys 'til they thought you were mad or somethin'. Oh well, they kinda deserve it. Thinkin' they're all gangsters." He got up from his crate. Then he approached him.
And when he was close, the height difference was almost outstanding. Taller than Kasuga, and he carried a more brutish build than he did. "Say," Kanda spoke, "how much fight have you got in you, kid?"
Eiji just stood near the metallic door, watching the conversation unfold with folded arms.
"Pardon?" Imura said. "How strong do you think you really are? Kanda asked him again, this time more specifically.
Imura paused. Just not sure how to answer that the right way. He's never been one to think much of his own strengths. Combat's always been a tool for him.
But to give the man a reply…
"…I guess I'm alright?"
No answer.
As if that answer was too wrong to be said, Kanda glared at him with such an intensity that can be only compared to something like a pre-fight faceoff. Imura looked head to oe, toe to head, trying to make of the situation.
Kanda took a step forward. Then another slowly step. He urged Kashiwada to keep moving. Keep moving backwards. Doesn't matter why, just keep moving. His heart raced again, and it felt like it'd only get faster and faster. Kanda's eyes…one you couldn't just read through twitched to Eiji then to Imura. To Eiji then to Imura. To Eiji, THEN back to imura. And then- he threw a punch.
And it felt as though he just hit air itself. Imura ducked under it fast.
It wasn't a good punch anyway. It was slow. He pivoted and saw Imura already halfway through his stance, as if he was already ready for a fight.
"Alright I get you…" Kanda smirked through his tired face, "You're 'alright'." He lifted two fingers on each hand, each signaling quotations.
Kanda approached again. Imura's stance remained unwavered. Arms higher than before, upperbody crouching deeper into the earth.
Kanda stopped.
He looked at Eiji with two slightly big eyes, pointing at the young man while expressing his bit of surprise- like he had just something too unique. The only thing Eiji did, was shrug with a grin on his face. Kanda turned back to Imura. "And you even read what I was going to do there too?" he said, but his tone lacked any surprise. "Impressive,"
And so, Imura dropped his stance.
A few seconds later, they were already sitting triangular onto the center of the house. Despite just how Kanda looked, he was genuinely intrigued…surprised even. It may seem like a small thing, but for Imura to not drop his guard even despite that spoke meaning far beyond just saying 'he was alert'.
Atouchi sat before the two with a wooden chair turned the other way. His arms rested on the roof of the backrest, his chin pressed onto them. Meanwhile, the other two sat in simple small crates. "So," Kanda began. "You want help findin' Wu Sha, huh Eiji?"
"That guy's a wanted figure not just to me but this boy right here," Eiji replied, pointing at Imura with a thumb. "He's already messed around with us enough, so we need all the help we can. Heard you Kurogumi guys'll help out long as I got the money."
"You and this kid right here, huh?" his head barely turned to the young man. "What'd he do to you?"
Imura hesitated, but then he replied, "…He murdered my parents. That's why I'm after him."
"Murdered your parents…" Kanda repeated thoughtfully. "Sorry to hear that, friend." He said, his tone was surprisingly mournful. "It's alright.." he replied, with a smile that barely formed.
Kanda sighed, "But still, askin' a yakuza like me for help. It takes a whole lot of bravery to come around and just ask for a meeting, Mr.Eiji." he said, "When you're such a small company yourself."
"Trust me when I say I know which one's the most easygoing chairman of the whole Kurogumi, brother." Eiji chuckled.
"You mocking me or something?"
"Nah, I probably phrased that too wrong. Sorry 'bout that."
"You better be." Atouchi whispered under his breathe. Without much consideration he said, "Sure, we'll help out…Make sure you get us paid though,"
"Payment's never been an issue to me, friend, you just focus on the work." He leaned back, as if the job's already been done.
Atouchi Kanda then turned back to Imura, who was just watching the conversation unfold. He casually asked him just what leads they both have found so far. Mr.Eiji didn't let him speak. Instead he explained it himself, "There's this crew coming from Shirogane highschool. They call 'emselves, Shirogane crews. Word is, Wu Sha's somehow connected to 'em and Imura's been on the hunt to get any leads."
"That by?"
"Beatin' 'em and forcing the higher ranks to talk. Because they're the most connected to that crazy,"
"Beating them in a fight, huh? You'll make a great yakuza, kid." Kanda said to Imura, his face didn't change. Imura wasn't sure how to really respond to that aside from giving a small grin with a straight posture.
Atouchi didn't want to say it, but with how the man looked, it was like there was a quiet storm that was rumbling inside of his head. But that didn't matter to him.
He was quiet…Just thinking about what move they should really start with.
His head snapped up.
"Mr.Eiji, I know this may sound severe but," Kanda began, scratching his temple.
"but what if we started a war with those Shirogane guys, right now?"
The way he said it, without hesitation- without much gravity, it was as if he was being serious about it. Serious about a war. A gang war. Eiji laughed, a part of him had hoped that he was only joking around, "A war right now? That's way too high, man."
Kanda nodded, like he knew the gravity of the situation himself. "I know," he said. "but think about just how much quicker we can get stuff done, Eiji."
He's…actually serious about it?
"If we bring it to high gear right away, we'll get our answers right on the table. Sounds very good, doesn't it?"
There was a shade in those words. A shade that covered ethics and morality needed to say it. Ethics and morality, to not keep a straight face, to hesitate, to reconsider, and to be not be casual about such a statement.
Does war mean nothing to this guy? Imura questioned that himself. Even he was surprised.
And as if the thought of reconsideration never- EVER crossed his mind. He said this, "What do you say?"
Eiji didn't say anything, like he was silently Imura to take his part. Imura hesitated, but then he protested, "But that's unnecessary…" his tone was calm- calm despite even the slightest tension that lurked within his very mind. "We can't just go on war with a whole gang- all with your family..If we do, think about what's going to happen on the streets…!"
"I guess you have a point…" Kanda said, his tone somewhat contemplative now. But that only seemed sarcastic. Because what he said next was a different story, "I still think we should go with that plan."
A gang war is still a war.
What do you think of when you hear the word 'war'?
Thrilling and exciting you might say in terms of movies and other fiction. But deep down, it's really more than that.
Especially in modern times when all people have to do is go to a certain building around their local area and buy food, on the streets when a disagreement appears to happen between two groups. A disagreement turned into shouting and arguing, spitting and fists, it all escalates into—
Wider scale gang war.
And it's not just two gangs going at it with eachother. No. Fire fights lead to tragedy even extending toward civilians, sometimes leading to their deaths and grievances of their family.
War is an issue that some people have begun to use as a tool to gain. A dark. Tool.
And not to mention, it's the Kurogumi against the Shirogane. Yakuza against gang. And although the Kurogumi are some of the smaller families operating around Japan— strictly in Nagasaki…
Their way of doing things are too reckless to be left unnoticed. Just imagine how badly things would escalate.
Atouchi Kanda, 6th chairman of the family was an open example to how most of the family operates. None of what he said came from any formal seriousness nor shame. Deep down, it all came from a man who threw away right and wrong just to complete a mission. Just to get whatever he wants.
And in this case it seems to be money he's after. Money is his prime motivator.
But what will Eiji do?
What will you reply with…Mr.Eiji?
What's our move?
Should we do as he says?!
"You're getting way ahead of your stations, 6th chairman."
Atouchi raised a brow. The strongest form of emotion he has shown apart from an empty grin or smile beneath his barely-blinking eyes.
Eiji continued. His voice sharp and commanding, like a man talking back to the king of the jungle, his eyes as sharp as his tenacity. "If we just go on ahead and start an all out war with a local street gang. The only thing that we'll ever get aside from probably info, is some accident that we could've avoided easily. That is reckless, I'd say." He leaned closer, his back bent. "You know theres better ways to deal with this than start a war right away, don'tcha 6th chairman?"
Kanda didn't seem bothered by the looks of it. He was moving his mouth, like he was chewing something, or rather exercising his jaw. Eiji waited, a brow raised, mouth open, waiting for his answer. Imura looked at his employer, then at Kanda. To his perspective, it was like a faceoff between yakuza and a businessman. His shoulders were stiff, and his eyes were unblinking.
"Fine," Kanda responded moments later. "I'll think of something else."
Eiji smiled at him for that. Kanda wasn't done however. He explained his case, "if we're going to do something else, I need to make a plan 'til tomorrow. Does that sound good with you?"
Mr.Eiji shook his head, "Of course it does. Or we could just wait another day. No biggie."
Kanda nodded to that. He smiled faintly. Then he got up from his chair, turned it around, and sat on it properly this time. His arms resting on the handles, his posture relaxed and leaned, vulnerable to any attack. He sat there quietly for a moment, before roaring out into the room:
"EVERYONE!!"
With the echoes of his voice. From four doors came out many men. Mysterious, no-nonsense, and tough. All wore suits. Ranigng from purple to dark green— black to gray and black. Some bearing scars of combat, some with shaved heads, flashy rings— pipes slung over shoulders and brass knuckles on fists. They all walked and walked, stood side to side, shoulder to shoulder, until the formation was made and done.
A rectangle of an army. The amount of people that appeared almost filled the space behind the 6th chairman.
The tension was high and clear. Imura was uncomfortable and yet confused. "Don't worry now, friend…" he heard Kanda say that amidst the tension. "They're not here to hurt."
That didn't comfort him one bit. It was all too…surreal almost. He's never seen anything like this before. It was like military almost.
It seemed to affect Eiji as well. With his face contorted in a way that showed fear almost.
This was the Kurogumi.
"You know, you guys made the right choice not to pick a fight here." Kanda said. He clapped his hands lazily, slowly, and barely with noise, "Congratulations on the affiliation, friends."