Chakra Wizard
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Aito’s perspective again (getting kinda annoying, isn’t it? lol). Got some new characters now, so hopefully, that makes things a bit more interesting (also, I kinda chuckled as I wrote the beginning of this chapter, so I know it’s gotta be good*_* lol) Anyways, enjoy
Previous Chapter:
Okay, I dunno how the **** this prick cop got all his information or who he thought he was shoving it all in my face, but we weren’t in his office for more than five minutes before I started wishing I hadn’t given Susume my gun. Jack McGarrett, your stereotypical, twenty-nine year-old, law enforcing ass**** – I would’ve called him “Jack-ass”, but I didn’t feel like getting shot. To be fair, though, there were a lot of things about him my desire to live prevented me from saying aloud, like the fact that he should’ve been wearing spurs and a cowboy hat to go with the stupid ****in’ accent. I swear, that was his worst feature by a long shot, his second being how much he loved ****ing with potential suspects. I knew it was true, cause there was no way in hell he couldn’t see my left eyebrow twitching every time he tried to intimidate me. It didn’t scare me at all, though – just pissed me off even more.
“So, you’re telling me that you spent the entire night sitting in your room doing nothing while your old man was getting shot.” he questioned me as I sat hunched over in front of his desk. He even took the liberty of circling around my chair at an intentionally slow pace – the room wasn’t even dark, “Jack-ass”.
“Yes, sir.” I replied, in as indifferent a tone as I could manage by that point.
“That include the hour’s worth of footage missing from your surveillance archives?” he asked – again, where the **** was he getting this information?
“…Yes, sir.” I answered. He just smirked at me like some pompous douchebag before sitting back down – about ****ing time.
“You know who your father was, Aito?” was his next question. I knew he was referring to the Ryokudan family’s yakuza when he asked this – what else could it have been? That reasoning only pissed me off more, though. I didn’t just know him, you bastard. I ****in’ lived with him.
“If he made no attempt to hide it from you guys, what makes you think he hid it from me?” I replied, not even caring about my tone by then. I didn’t hide the fact that I hated Yatsumi from anyone, especially the donut-loving pricks who’ve been watching him carry out his crimes for the past twenty-three years. …Had they arrested him when they should have, none of this ever would’ve happened.
“Mmm, touchy. Struck a nerve, did I?” he said. I didn’t even make an attempt to reply this time – nothing that came out of my mouth after that would’ve have been free of profanity or a violent death threat. He just twiddled his thumbs and carried on with his interrogation.
“Well, if you know what kind of work he was involved in, which I’m assuming you did, …then you should also know that whoever murdered him did our precinct a huge favor. …Some of the guys around here might even call him a hero.”
He was just trying to get a confession now – it was way too obvious for me not to notice. He wasn’t gonna get one out of me, though – I’d spent the last eighteen years in Hell and there was no way I was going back now.
“Hmph, them and me both.” I said smugly. I half-expected expected him to jump out of his seat, cuffs in hand and gun at the ready, but no dice. His smirk did disappear, though, which wasn’t a very good sign, either.
“Something tells me you and your old man weren’t very fond of one another.”
That stupid ****. I swear, if he wasn’t a badge, I would’ve killed him right where he sat.
“No, sir, we weren’t. …But then again, you brought me in as a suspect, so I’m assuming you already knew that.”
He just leaned back in his chair and scoffed in disbelief, as though he was shocked I would make such an assumption.
“Don’t bother hiding it from him, Jack. …He’s gonna find out sooner or later.”
In walked another cop – veteran, from the looks of him. He had a few files in his hand and he made a beckoning motion towards his colleague, who subsequently made one towards me. We stepped out of the office and walked a few meters across the busy room to yet another one, slightly bigger than the last. I sat down in front of the desk again, while the veteran took the chair behind it.
“I’ll go ahead and take it from here, Jack. Thanks for bringin’ him in.” he motioned to his partner – who was leaning against the wall, eyeing me like a ****in’ child molester. He was obviously interested in how this whole thing turned out, cause he was hesitant to leave. Once he did, though, the vet turned his attention back towards me.
“Name’s Marlon Palakiko, son. I’m correct in assuming you’re Aito?” he greeted me. He was obviously going to be much easier to deal with than the last guy, though that didn’t make me any less cold towards him.
“That’s right, sir. And with all due respect, Officer, please don’t treat me like a juvenile. …You already know what kind of background I have.”
It was an honest request in my eyes. I wasn’t a respectable human being and I had no intention of being treated like one. He could’ve been as harsh or obscene as he wanted, I didn’t give a shit, …so long as he didn’t treat me like a child.
“Fair enough. Now, you told my associate that on the night of February 9th, between the hours of eight and nine, you were in your bedroom on the second floor of your father’s estate. Now, your father’s office is where on the premises?” he asked, going back over the alibi I had just given “Jack-ass” a little while ago. Much as I didn’t like repeating myself, I went ahead and made an exception this one time. No sense starting off on the wrong foot, right?
“It’s on the first floor, the very back room.” I answered him.
“And you didn’t hear any noises in the house during that time? Like a gunshot, perhaps?” he questioned me. I thought back to the exact moment I killed Yatsumi before I gave him my answer – I still don’t know why.
“None whatsoever. …The man was most likely using a silencer.” I told him.
“Hm? What makes you say that?” he asked. Yet another cop who asks stupid questions, I thought. …**** me.
“Yatsumi Ryokudan was the leader of one of the most notorious crime syndicates in the country. It doesn’t matter if it was an inside job or some random vigilante. …You don’t pull a hit that dangerous and get out alive without putting a silencer on your gun.” I explained with great reluctance – I didn’t like talking about Yatsumi unless it had to do with how much I hated the fat bastard. The old-timer just stared at me as I talked – seemed I knew too much about hits for my explanation to be to his liking. …Forgot that I was a mob child, apparently.
“…I see. And who do you think was responsible for his death?” was his next question. No point hiding it now, I thought. …My ass.
“It was an inside job. No other way around it.” I answered him.
“Why an inside job?” he asked.
“His manor is surrounded by guards every single night without exception. I’ve seen a cop or two stop by the place during my lifetime, so I’m sure you know that. There’s at least one camera in every room that you can’t sleep or bathe in, with the exception of the master bedroom. And according to you, all of them were shut off during the one-hour time frame it’s believed he was killed. …Only someone familiar with the way everything in the house functioned could’ve possibly killed him and gotten away with it.”
Again, he just stared at me as I spoke…and again, he didn’t seem to like what was coming out of my mouth.
“Someone who knew how the house functioned, huh? …How about the surveillance guy? He had one of those, right? Someone to watch the cameras while he slept?” he questioned me. Okay, so he was taking the long way around. It didn’t really matter to me. All roads lead to the same destination, …the same eighteen year-old destination.
“Couldn’t have been. He changed the guy every other week…and he always made sure he could trust them.” I answered.
“Okay. Then one of the higher-ups, perhaps? Someone he did trust, maybe.” he made another suggestion. Getting closer, old-timer.
“…Maybe.”
“Anyone come to mind?” he asked. It was at that point that I realized he didn’t see me as much of a threat…and that pissed me off.
“Are you looking for names, Officer?” I asked in return, my temper beginning to show in my speech. I knew it was – he wouldn’t be frowning like that if it wasn’t.
“If you have any to give, then I’ll gladly hear them.” he said, trying to keep his friendly tone intact. Finally, I thought the guy would never break.
“Afraid I couldn’t even if I wanted to, sir. …I don’t think I need to tell you why.”
I really didn’t want to, either.
“…Do you have siblings, Aito?”
He suddenly changed the subject. …Took the hint, apparently.
“Two brothers. One’s twenty-one and one’s twelve.” I answered.
“Does your older brother live with you?” he questioned.
“Doesn’t have a choice. …He has autism.”
I added that last part on after he gave me a weird look. It was justifiable, though. …It wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t leave the manor.
“Must be quite a hassle. Living in a household that corrupt.”
It took you eighteen years to realize that, you ****?
“You learn to deal with…certain things.” I replied. Wish I had worded it better, now that I think about it.
“Like what?” he asked. I’d reached my limit by that point, though – both in annoyance and viable information.
“Could we go back to the murder, Officer? You brought me in as a murder suspect, not a recently orphaned boy. …You said it yourself.”
He looked like he was about to make the same face “Jack-ass” made before he showed up, hence my adding that last part on.
“Hm, I did say that, didn’t I? Well, I guess there’s only one question left to ask, then.”
He stood up and leaned over his desk after that, making sure our eyes were no more than two feet apart before saying another word.
“Did you kill your father, Aito?”
That might’ve been the only time in my life I was ever thankful that I grew up under Yatsumi’s roof, cause this guy was pretty damn at intimidation. …Unfortunately for him, so was I.
“Don’t get me wrong, Officer. There’s a reason I call Yatsumi by his first name, and believe me, not a person in this entire building hated that man more than I did. …That being said, despite living with him for eighteen years, I still have my morals…and he’s still my father.”
For once during this conversation, I must’ve just given him a long-winded answer he actually liked, caused he gave me a small smile before sitting back down. Apparently, his opinion of me was much more positive than his partner’s.
“Anything else you can tell us about the yakuza, son?” he asked, much to my annoyance. He was a cop, though, so I guess I couldn’t really blame him for trying.
“Nothing that wouldn’t implement one or both of us being shot, …sir.”
I thought for sure he was gonna take that as a threat, or at least frown at me for saying it. So, needless to say, I was surprised when he almost started laughing. …Didn’t really see why he would, though – I was dead ****ing serious.
“Well, it would seem there’s no point keeping you here, then.” he said as he stood up and headed towards the door, holding it open before motioning for me to stand up.
“I’ll escort you to the front door myself. …There’s something else I wanna ask you.”
I was rather surprised by his insistence, to be perfectly honest, not to mention against the idea of talking to him or one of his buddies any longer than I already had. Since I didn’t seem to have a choice, though, I just went along with it and followed him. “Jack-ass” was leaning against the wall just outside the office as I walked out, evidently not too pleased with the fact that I was being let off the hook – it took all the willpower I had not to flip him off right there. Marlon didn’t pay an ounce of attention to him as we walked past him, though, so neither did I. After passing by several ringing phones and complaining civilians – it’s a yakuza town, so those things were fairly common around this place – we were at the front desk getting back my stuff. I put the phone and wallet back in my pockets, but kept the lighter and cigarettes out so I could put them to use as soon as we walked outside. I stood there looking at the guy for a few seconds after that, about to ask for my gun – thank God I remembered giving it to Susume. Once that little miscommunication was cleared up, though, we stepped out the front door and I quickly took a cigarette out of the pack and stuck it between my teeth.
“Mind if I smoke, Officer?” I asked my companion. He was leaning against one of the brick pillars holding up the canopy, staring at me in what I guess was disapproval. Not a smoker, apparently – either that or he’d just never seen an eighteen year-old do it.
“Go ahead. And please, just call me Marlon.” he requested as I ignited the flint inside my lighter. Once it had done its job, I threw it back in my pocket and took a quick puff before turning back to him.
“So, what was your question?” I asked. He didn’t look at me as he made it known, but I could tell from his expression and tone how serious he was.
“This is completely off the record. …I wanna how Yatsumi’s death has affected the yakuza.”
He looked back at me as he awaited my answer, but by that point, I had already turned away myself, scanning our surroundings like a hawk – one could never be too sure whether or not they were being watched in this town, especially when they were in my position. Contrary to what he was probably thinking, though, I was checking around to ensure it was safe for him to ask me this, not for me to answer him. I wasn’t gonna tell him anything either way, …not when it concerned my little brother.
“Believe me, Marlon. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I answered him, referring to Mao’s rise to power.
“You sure of that?” he asked in an almost condescending tone, clearly oblivious to my reasoning for answering him like that.
“Absolutely. …I still can’t believe it myself.”
By that point, I had looked back to see his reaction. He clearly wasn’t pleased with my lack of information, but in the end, it seemed he wasn’t too surprised by it either. There was something about his expression that tugged at me, though. Something more…longing.
“You don’t look too satisfied. Something else you wanted to ask?” I asked him. He just looked at me for a second there, apparently hesitant to ask me of it. Whatever “it” was, …it was undoubtedly personal.
“Yes.” he answered.
“About my home life?”
Right on the money.
“…Yes.”
I honestly didn’t wanna hear it – my hesitation to tell him that was proof enough – and he noticed this, too. These were questions concerning my wellbeing, the ones floating around in his head right now, …questions the cops should’ve been asking back when it mattered. Still, I’d come off as an ass to refuse his question now, so I took another long puff on my cigarette and motioned for him to ask it.
“What’s gonna happen to you? Now that your father’s dead?”
I’m not gonna lie. Just hearing him say it pissed me off to no end – mainly cause he said it like I had a choice in the matter.
“What else? I’m gonna stay in the house, at least until I can get me and my brothers out safely.” I answered bluntly, almost feeling like I was saying too much just then.
“Is there anything we could do to help you out?”
It really was a shame, looking back on it. …I honestly kinda liked the guy up until he asked me that.
“With all due respect, Officer, …you’ve been enough ****in’ help as it is.”
There was no point continuing the conversation after that point, so I just extinguished my cigarette in the nearby bin before walking off. I didn’t even bother turning around to see if his expression was one of pity or resentment – probably a mixture of both.
The station was a few miles from the Saimin Shop, so the forty-minute walk back home suddenly turned into a three-hour trek across Honolulu – I really needed to get a car after this, I thought. I thought about dropping by the café to get my gun, but I just said “**** it” at the last minute. Roku was still out on his assignment, so there was no one worth pointing it at, anyways. Plus, given the time and how hungry I was, if I had walked in there, I would’ve been compelled to order something…and after our conservation earlier today, I really didn’t wanna be in the same room as Susume for that long. So, I just continued the long walk back to the manor, repressing my hunger pains a little while longer so I could stop by the office and tell Mao what just happened to me – if he didn’t already know. He was in the middle of a conversation with Hei and two others when I walked in, a conversation they’d apparently just finished.
“You can leave.” he motioned to them, looking up at Hei to let him know that this order was addressed to him, as well. The other two eyeballed me as they walked out – **** them, as far as I was concerned. At least Hei was more refined enough than that.
“Hey, make sure the cameras are off in here. …I don’t need anyone listening in on this conversation.” I requested as he left, causing him to stop momentarily before closing the doors behind him. Once we were alone, I walked over to the window and pulled out another cigarette, while Mao glanced over at me from his seat. As I was lighting it, I looked up at the cameras in the corners of the room, waiting until the small red lights on each of them went off before speaking.
“Cops saw me today.” I told him as I put my lighter away.
“I know.” he replied. I expected as much.
“Because you called them?” I asked offhandedly. He just lowered his eyebrows in response – I couldn’t see his mouth since he was holding his hands out in front of it like some corporate douche, …like he always did.
“Of course not, Brother. That report was sent out by Hei without my involvement.” he answered. I honestly hadn’t heard this tidbit of info up until now, but my expression already told him that. Yatsumi avoided contact with the police as often as possible, and ensured that his subordinates did, as well. So, needless to say, I found this to be somewhat out of character for Hei, who was loyal to a fault.
“And? …What do you plan on doing about the cops snooping around? This isn’t just some regular manor, Mao, you know that.” I asked him, using the same tone as before. He rested his arms on those of his chair, allowing me to see the frown on his face. He seemed to think that my opinion of him was becoming more negative every day – which it was.
“Well, I wasn’t planning on putting a hit on every officer in the city, if that’s what you were wondering. There’s no hard evidence against you or anyone else, so just let the chips fall where they may. As for the yakuza dealings, we let them do as they please and if they find out something shady, then we deal with them.”
And this was why my opinion of Mao kept deteriorating all the time. He was the same age as he was nine days ago, yet he was becoming more and more like a mob boss every time I walked into his office, …like he had been preparing for this shit since birth.
“You sure you had no knowledge of the report Kaozu sent out?” I asked again, checking to make sure he really had nothing to do with the ordeal – first thing you do after almost getting detained is find out who all’s responsible, right? From the way Mao looked at me, I could tell that my lack of trust was starting to get to him.
“I knew he sent it out, but I took no part in preparing it. …A man was murdered in cold blood in this very room, Brother. Police involvement was impossible to avoid, especially if you consider who the victim was.” he explained. He lost me after word twenty-one, though, …for obvious reasons.
“That came out awfully smooth, Mao. …Cold blood…”
The silence that followed was more uncomfortable than one could imagine, and the air was so thick with guilt that I was gagging on it. Even Mao realized what was wrong with what he said – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
“I’m only assuming you purged yourself of all emotion before carrying it out, Brother. …I’m not saying that you don’t regret it.” he tried to explain, not that it was all that necessary.
“I don’t regret it. I had more right to take his life than anyone else did. …I just would’ve preferred doing it under different…circumstances.”
I didn’t need to give him time to figure that one out. Threatening to kill your own father in order to get your brother to do it has a way of sticking out in your mind, no matter what side of the equation you were on.
“It was the only way I could convince you to do it, Brother. In all honesty, I was hoping you would decide to kill him right off the bat, but when you refused, I had to think of some other means of persuasion. …I never meant for you to get the wrong idea, I promise. I was just doing what I knew was best for you, me, and Seishin…and like you said, who else deserved to kill Father more than you did?”
I was leaning on the windowsill as he told me this, but I quickly turned around and looked outside once he had finished – what better way to ponder something than to look out a window, right? I had to admit, as hard as it was for me to trust him, Mao always had an answer to back him up, meanwhile I couldn’t get a damn thing to go my way in life. That was just one of many things that set us apart, I thought, and the more I did, the more apparent the sheer number of those things became. I was a half a slob and quick to anger, he was always composed in both appearance and mind-set. I was easier to read than a single letter, even Ron Bard couldn’t tell what was going on inside of Mao’s head. I had to point a gun at someone just to get them to shut up, he just had to say a few words and could get whatever he wanted – the fact he was sitting in that chair was proof enough of that. It got funnier the more I thought about it, and before long, I was smiling in spite of myself.
“Are we really brothers, Mao?” I asked him sarcastically. Evidently, he saw the humor in this, too, and began chuckling softly.
“I don’t call you that for my own health, …Brother.”
I also chuckled softly at his answer, causing him to repeat the action himself, and before long, our lighthearted chuckling had turned into a drawn-out episode of mutual laughter – the first one the two of us had ever shared in our lives. As the hilarity carried on, I began thinking to myself that something like this never would’ve happened while Yatsumi was still alive. And as that thought hit me, the laughter ceased, and my lips curved upward to form a genuine smile. …Maybe my brothers and I really were better off without him, I thought.
“How’s Seishin doing today?” I asked Mao as the thought of the big oaf suddenly crossed my mind.
“Hmm, not sure. I haven’t seen him yet today.” he said as he glanced over at the office doors. My smile disappeared shortly after he said this – mainly because it was already six in the afternoon.
“You’re a brother first and a mob boss second, Mao. …Don’t ever forget about him.”
I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of my mouth even as I said them – I kept forgetting that the kid was twelve ****in’ years old.
“He’s on my mind no less often than he’s on yours, Aito.” he assured me – or tried to, at least. I took one last puff on my cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray on the windowsill.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Shortly after that, I walked out of the office with the intent of going to see our big brother, closing the doors behind me as I did. I tried my best not to look back into the room as I left it, …afraid that I might see a devilish grin appear on Mao’s face as I vanished from his sight.
To Be Continued…
Previous Chapter:
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- Both Sides of the Law -
Okay, I dunno how the **** this prick cop got all his information or who he thought he was shoving it all in my face, but we weren’t in his office for more than five minutes before I started wishing I hadn’t given Susume my gun. Jack McGarrett, your stereotypical, twenty-nine year-old, law enforcing ass**** – I would’ve called him “Jack-ass”, but I didn’t feel like getting shot. To be fair, though, there were a lot of things about him my desire to live prevented me from saying aloud, like the fact that he should’ve been wearing spurs and a cowboy hat to go with the stupid ****in’ accent. I swear, that was his worst feature by a long shot, his second being how much he loved ****ing with potential suspects. I knew it was true, cause there was no way in hell he couldn’t see my left eyebrow twitching every time he tried to intimidate me. It didn’t scare me at all, though – just pissed me off even more.
“So, you’re telling me that you spent the entire night sitting in your room doing nothing while your old man was getting shot.” he questioned me as I sat hunched over in front of his desk. He even took the liberty of circling around my chair at an intentionally slow pace – the room wasn’t even dark, “Jack-ass”.
“Yes, sir.” I replied, in as indifferent a tone as I could manage by that point.
“That include the hour’s worth of footage missing from your surveillance archives?” he asked – again, where the **** was he getting this information?
“…Yes, sir.” I answered. He just smirked at me like some pompous douchebag before sitting back down – about ****ing time.
“You know who your father was, Aito?” was his next question. I knew he was referring to the Ryokudan family’s yakuza when he asked this – what else could it have been? That reasoning only pissed me off more, though. I didn’t just know him, you bastard. I ****in’ lived with him.
“If he made no attempt to hide it from you guys, what makes you think he hid it from me?” I replied, not even caring about my tone by then. I didn’t hide the fact that I hated Yatsumi from anyone, especially the donut-loving pricks who’ve been watching him carry out his crimes for the past twenty-three years. …Had they arrested him when they should have, none of this ever would’ve happened.
“Mmm, touchy. Struck a nerve, did I?” he said. I didn’t even make an attempt to reply this time – nothing that came out of my mouth after that would’ve have been free of profanity or a violent death threat. He just twiddled his thumbs and carried on with his interrogation.
“Well, if you know what kind of work he was involved in, which I’m assuming you did, …then you should also know that whoever murdered him did our precinct a huge favor. …Some of the guys around here might even call him a hero.”
He was just trying to get a confession now – it was way too obvious for me not to notice. He wasn’t gonna get one out of me, though – I’d spent the last eighteen years in Hell and there was no way I was going back now.
“Hmph, them and me both.” I said smugly. I half-expected expected him to jump out of his seat, cuffs in hand and gun at the ready, but no dice. His smirk did disappear, though, which wasn’t a very good sign, either.
“Something tells me you and your old man weren’t very fond of one another.”
That stupid ****. I swear, if he wasn’t a badge, I would’ve killed him right where he sat.
“No, sir, we weren’t. …But then again, you brought me in as a suspect, so I’m assuming you already knew that.”
He just leaned back in his chair and scoffed in disbelief, as though he was shocked I would make such an assumption.
“Don’t bother hiding it from him, Jack. …He’s gonna find out sooner or later.”
In walked another cop – veteran, from the looks of him. He had a few files in his hand and he made a beckoning motion towards his colleague, who subsequently made one towards me. We stepped out of the office and walked a few meters across the busy room to yet another one, slightly bigger than the last. I sat down in front of the desk again, while the veteran took the chair behind it.
“I’ll go ahead and take it from here, Jack. Thanks for bringin’ him in.” he motioned to his partner – who was leaning against the wall, eyeing me like a ****in’ child molester. He was obviously interested in how this whole thing turned out, cause he was hesitant to leave. Once he did, though, the vet turned his attention back towards me.
“Name’s Marlon Palakiko, son. I’m correct in assuming you’re Aito?” he greeted me. He was obviously going to be much easier to deal with than the last guy, though that didn’t make me any less cold towards him.
“That’s right, sir. And with all due respect, Officer, please don’t treat me like a juvenile. …You already know what kind of background I have.”
It was an honest request in my eyes. I wasn’t a respectable human being and I had no intention of being treated like one. He could’ve been as harsh or obscene as he wanted, I didn’t give a shit, …so long as he didn’t treat me like a child.
“Fair enough. Now, you told my associate that on the night of February 9th, between the hours of eight and nine, you were in your bedroom on the second floor of your father’s estate. Now, your father’s office is where on the premises?” he asked, going back over the alibi I had just given “Jack-ass” a little while ago. Much as I didn’t like repeating myself, I went ahead and made an exception this one time. No sense starting off on the wrong foot, right?
“It’s on the first floor, the very back room.” I answered him.
“And you didn’t hear any noises in the house during that time? Like a gunshot, perhaps?” he questioned me. I thought back to the exact moment I killed Yatsumi before I gave him my answer – I still don’t know why.
“None whatsoever. …The man was most likely using a silencer.” I told him.
“Hm? What makes you say that?” he asked. Yet another cop who asks stupid questions, I thought. …**** me.
“Yatsumi Ryokudan was the leader of one of the most notorious crime syndicates in the country. It doesn’t matter if it was an inside job or some random vigilante. …You don’t pull a hit that dangerous and get out alive without putting a silencer on your gun.” I explained with great reluctance – I didn’t like talking about Yatsumi unless it had to do with how much I hated the fat bastard. The old-timer just stared at me as I talked – seemed I knew too much about hits for my explanation to be to his liking. …Forgot that I was a mob child, apparently.
“…I see. And who do you think was responsible for his death?” was his next question. No point hiding it now, I thought. …My ass.
“It was an inside job. No other way around it.” I answered him.
“Why an inside job?” he asked.
“His manor is surrounded by guards every single night without exception. I’ve seen a cop or two stop by the place during my lifetime, so I’m sure you know that. There’s at least one camera in every room that you can’t sleep or bathe in, with the exception of the master bedroom. And according to you, all of them were shut off during the one-hour time frame it’s believed he was killed. …Only someone familiar with the way everything in the house functioned could’ve possibly killed him and gotten away with it.”
Again, he just stared at me as I spoke…and again, he didn’t seem to like what was coming out of my mouth.
“Someone who knew how the house functioned, huh? …How about the surveillance guy? He had one of those, right? Someone to watch the cameras while he slept?” he questioned me. Okay, so he was taking the long way around. It didn’t really matter to me. All roads lead to the same destination, …the same eighteen year-old destination.
“Couldn’t have been. He changed the guy every other week…and he always made sure he could trust them.” I answered.
“Okay. Then one of the higher-ups, perhaps? Someone he did trust, maybe.” he made another suggestion. Getting closer, old-timer.
“…Maybe.”
“Anyone come to mind?” he asked. It was at that point that I realized he didn’t see me as much of a threat…and that pissed me off.
“Are you looking for names, Officer?” I asked in return, my temper beginning to show in my speech. I knew it was – he wouldn’t be frowning like that if it wasn’t.
“If you have any to give, then I’ll gladly hear them.” he said, trying to keep his friendly tone intact. Finally, I thought the guy would never break.
“Afraid I couldn’t even if I wanted to, sir. …I don’t think I need to tell you why.”
I really didn’t want to, either.
“…Do you have siblings, Aito?”
He suddenly changed the subject. …Took the hint, apparently.
“Two brothers. One’s twenty-one and one’s twelve.” I answered.
“Does your older brother live with you?” he questioned.
“Doesn’t have a choice. …He has autism.”
I added that last part on after he gave me a weird look. It was justifiable, though. …It wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t leave the manor.
“Must be quite a hassle. Living in a household that corrupt.”
It took you eighteen years to realize that, you ****?
“You learn to deal with…certain things.” I replied. Wish I had worded it better, now that I think about it.
“Like what?” he asked. I’d reached my limit by that point, though – both in annoyance and viable information.
“Could we go back to the murder, Officer? You brought me in as a murder suspect, not a recently orphaned boy. …You said it yourself.”
He looked like he was about to make the same face “Jack-ass” made before he showed up, hence my adding that last part on.
“Hm, I did say that, didn’t I? Well, I guess there’s only one question left to ask, then.”
He stood up and leaned over his desk after that, making sure our eyes were no more than two feet apart before saying another word.
“Did you kill your father, Aito?”
That might’ve been the only time in my life I was ever thankful that I grew up under Yatsumi’s roof, cause this guy was pretty damn at intimidation. …Unfortunately for him, so was I.
“Don’t get me wrong, Officer. There’s a reason I call Yatsumi by his first name, and believe me, not a person in this entire building hated that man more than I did. …That being said, despite living with him for eighteen years, I still have my morals…and he’s still my father.”
For once during this conversation, I must’ve just given him a long-winded answer he actually liked, caused he gave me a small smile before sitting back down. Apparently, his opinion of me was much more positive than his partner’s.
“Anything else you can tell us about the yakuza, son?” he asked, much to my annoyance. He was a cop, though, so I guess I couldn’t really blame him for trying.
“Nothing that wouldn’t implement one or both of us being shot, …sir.”
I thought for sure he was gonna take that as a threat, or at least frown at me for saying it. So, needless to say, I was surprised when he almost started laughing. …Didn’t really see why he would, though – I was dead ****ing serious.
“Well, it would seem there’s no point keeping you here, then.” he said as he stood up and headed towards the door, holding it open before motioning for me to stand up.
“I’ll escort you to the front door myself. …There’s something else I wanna ask you.”
I was rather surprised by his insistence, to be perfectly honest, not to mention against the idea of talking to him or one of his buddies any longer than I already had. Since I didn’t seem to have a choice, though, I just went along with it and followed him. “Jack-ass” was leaning against the wall just outside the office as I walked out, evidently not too pleased with the fact that I was being let off the hook – it took all the willpower I had not to flip him off right there. Marlon didn’t pay an ounce of attention to him as we walked past him, though, so neither did I. After passing by several ringing phones and complaining civilians – it’s a yakuza town, so those things were fairly common around this place – we were at the front desk getting back my stuff. I put the phone and wallet back in my pockets, but kept the lighter and cigarettes out so I could put them to use as soon as we walked outside. I stood there looking at the guy for a few seconds after that, about to ask for my gun – thank God I remembered giving it to Susume. Once that little miscommunication was cleared up, though, we stepped out the front door and I quickly took a cigarette out of the pack and stuck it between my teeth.
“Mind if I smoke, Officer?” I asked my companion. He was leaning against one of the brick pillars holding up the canopy, staring at me in what I guess was disapproval. Not a smoker, apparently – either that or he’d just never seen an eighteen year-old do it.
“Go ahead. And please, just call me Marlon.” he requested as I ignited the flint inside my lighter. Once it had done its job, I threw it back in my pocket and took a quick puff before turning back to him.
“So, what was your question?” I asked. He didn’t look at me as he made it known, but I could tell from his expression and tone how serious he was.
“This is completely off the record. …I wanna how Yatsumi’s death has affected the yakuza.”
He looked back at me as he awaited my answer, but by that point, I had already turned away myself, scanning our surroundings like a hawk – one could never be too sure whether or not they were being watched in this town, especially when they were in my position. Contrary to what he was probably thinking, though, I was checking around to ensure it was safe for him to ask me this, not for me to answer him. I wasn’t gonna tell him anything either way, …not when it concerned my little brother.
“Believe me, Marlon. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I answered him, referring to Mao’s rise to power.
“You sure of that?” he asked in an almost condescending tone, clearly oblivious to my reasoning for answering him like that.
“Absolutely. …I still can’t believe it myself.”
By that point, I had looked back to see his reaction. He clearly wasn’t pleased with my lack of information, but in the end, it seemed he wasn’t too surprised by it either. There was something about his expression that tugged at me, though. Something more…longing.
“You don’t look too satisfied. Something else you wanted to ask?” I asked him. He just looked at me for a second there, apparently hesitant to ask me of it. Whatever “it” was, …it was undoubtedly personal.
“Yes.” he answered.
“About my home life?”
Right on the money.
“…Yes.”
I honestly didn’t wanna hear it – my hesitation to tell him that was proof enough – and he noticed this, too. These were questions concerning my wellbeing, the ones floating around in his head right now, …questions the cops should’ve been asking back when it mattered. Still, I’d come off as an ass to refuse his question now, so I took another long puff on my cigarette and motioned for him to ask it.
“What’s gonna happen to you? Now that your father’s dead?”
I’m not gonna lie. Just hearing him say it pissed me off to no end – mainly cause he said it like I had a choice in the matter.
“What else? I’m gonna stay in the house, at least until I can get me and my brothers out safely.” I answered bluntly, almost feeling like I was saying too much just then.
“Is there anything we could do to help you out?”
It really was a shame, looking back on it. …I honestly kinda liked the guy up until he asked me that.
“With all due respect, Officer, …you’ve been enough ****in’ help as it is.”
There was no point continuing the conversation after that point, so I just extinguished my cigarette in the nearby bin before walking off. I didn’t even bother turning around to see if his expression was one of pity or resentment – probably a mixture of both.
The station was a few miles from the Saimin Shop, so the forty-minute walk back home suddenly turned into a three-hour trek across Honolulu – I really needed to get a car after this, I thought. I thought about dropping by the café to get my gun, but I just said “**** it” at the last minute. Roku was still out on his assignment, so there was no one worth pointing it at, anyways. Plus, given the time and how hungry I was, if I had walked in there, I would’ve been compelled to order something…and after our conservation earlier today, I really didn’t wanna be in the same room as Susume for that long. So, I just continued the long walk back to the manor, repressing my hunger pains a little while longer so I could stop by the office and tell Mao what just happened to me – if he didn’t already know. He was in the middle of a conversation with Hei and two others when I walked in, a conversation they’d apparently just finished.
“You can leave.” he motioned to them, looking up at Hei to let him know that this order was addressed to him, as well. The other two eyeballed me as they walked out – **** them, as far as I was concerned. At least Hei was more refined enough than that.
“Hey, make sure the cameras are off in here. …I don’t need anyone listening in on this conversation.” I requested as he left, causing him to stop momentarily before closing the doors behind him. Once we were alone, I walked over to the window and pulled out another cigarette, while Mao glanced over at me from his seat. As I was lighting it, I looked up at the cameras in the corners of the room, waiting until the small red lights on each of them went off before speaking.
“Cops saw me today.” I told him as I put my lighter away.
“I know.” he replied. I expected as much.
“Because you called them?” I asked offhandedly. He just lowered his eyebrows in response – I couldn’t see his mouth since he was holding his hands out in front of it like some corporate douche, …like he always did.
“Of course not, Brother. That report was sent out by Hei without my involvement.” he answered. I honestly hadn’t heard this tidbit of info up until now, but my expression already told him that. Yatsumi avoided contact with the police as often as possible, and ensured that his subordinates did, as well. So, needless to say, I found this to be somewhat out of character for Hei, who was loyal to a fault.
“And? …What do you plan on doing about the cops snooping around? This isn’t just some regular manor, Mao, you know that.” I asked him, using the same tone as before. He rested his arms on those of his chair, allowing me to see the frown on his face. He seemed to think that my opinion of him was becoming more negative every day – which it was.
“Well, I wasn’t planning on putting a hit on every officer in the city, if that’s what you were wondering. There’s no hard evidence against you or anyone else, so just let the chips fall where they may. As for the yakuza dealings, we let them do as they please and if they find out something shady, then we deal with them.”
And this was why my opinion of Mao kept deteriorating all the time. He was the same age as he was nine days ago, yet he was becoming more and more like a mob boss every time I walked into his office, …like he had been preparing for this shit since birth.
“You sure you had no knowledge of the report Kaozu sent out?” I asked again, checking to make sure he really had nothing to do with the ordeal – first thing you do after almost getting detained is find out who all’s responsible, right? From the way Mao looked at me, I could tell that my lack of trust was starting to get to him.
“I knew he sent it out, but I took no part in preparing it. …A man was murdered in cold blood in this very room, Brother. Police involvement was impossible to avoid, especially if you consider who the victim was.” he explained. He lost me after word twenty-one, though, …for obvious reasons.
“That came out awfully smooth, Mao. …Cold blood…”
The silence that followed was more uncomfortable than one could imagine, and the air was so thick with guilt that I was gagging on it. Even Mao realized what was wrong with what he said – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
“I’m only assuming you purged yourself of all emotion before carrying it out, Brother. …I’m not saying that you don’t regret it.” he tried to explain, not that it was all that necessary.
“I don’t regret it. I had more right to take his life than anyone else did. …I just would’ve preferred doing it under different…circumstances.”
I didn’t need to give him time to figure that one out. Threatening to kill your own father in order to get your brother to do it has a way of sticking out in your mind, no matter what side of the equation you were on.
“It was the only way I could convince you to do it, Brother. In all honesty, I was hoping you would decide to kill him right off the bat, but when you refused, I had to think of some other means of persuasion. …I never meant for you to get the wrong idea, I promise. I was just doing what I knew was best for you, me, and Seishin…and like you said, who else deserved to kill Father more than you did?”
I was leaning on the windowsill as he told me this, but I quickly turned around and looked outside once he had finished – what better way to ponder something than to look out a window, right? I had to admit, as hard as it was for me to trust him, Mao always had an answer to back him up, meanwhile I couldn’t get a damn thing to go my way in life. That was just one of many things that set us apart, I thought, and the more I did, the more apparent the sheer number of those things became. I was a half a slob and quick to anger, he was always composed in both appearance and mind-set. I was easier to read than a single letter, even Ron Bard couldn’t tell what was going on inside of Mao’s head. I had to point a gun at someone just to get them to shut up, he just had to say a few words and could get whatever he wanted – the fact he was sitting in that chair was proof enough of that. It got funnier the more I thought about it, and before long, I was smiling in spite of myself.
“Are we really brothers, Mao?” I asked him sarcastically. Evidently, he saw the humor in this, too, and began chuckling softly.
“I don’t call you that for my own health, …Brother.”
I also chuckled softly at his answer, causing him to repeat the action himself, and before long, our lighthearted chuckling had turned into a drawn-out episode of mutual laughter – the first one the two of us had ever shared in our lives. As the hilarity carried on, I began thinking to myself that something like this never would’ve happened while Yatsumi was still alive. And as that thought hit me, the laughter ceased, and my lips curved upward to form a genuine smile. …Maybe my brothers and I really were better off without him, I thought.
“How’s Seishin doing today?” I asked Mao as the thought of the big oaf suddenly crossed my mind.
“Hmm, not sure. I haven’t seen him yet today.” he said as he glanced over at the office doors. My smile disappeared shortly after he said this – mainly because it was already six in the afternoon.
“You’re a brother first and a mob boss second, Mao. …Don’t ever forget about him.”
I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of my mouth even as I said them – I kept forgetting that the kid was twelve ****in’ years old.
“He’s on my mind no less often than he’s on yours, Aito.” he assured me – or tried to, at least. I took one last puff on my cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray on the windowsill.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Shortly after that, I walked out of the office with the intent of going to see our big brother, closing the doors behind me as I did. I tried my best not to look back into the room as I left it, …afraid that I might see a devilish grin appear on Mao’s face as I vanished from his sight.
To Be Continued…
I didn’t realize it until this latest chapter, but I’m pretty damn good at writing dialogue. …Just thought I’d share that. XD
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