If YF was trying not to be recognized he quickly realized his mistake upon agreeing to go with the others. At first he hoped that going out so late in the morning there would be few people at the bars. But when they arrived at a place called the Golden Cup it was clear that the bar — and probably the bar district — was filled with officers and shift workers from the reactor complex. Upon entering YF immediately saw someone he recognized across the room: Tatori, his classmate from middle school. Tatori immediately flagged down YF with a long, outstretched arm. The trucker who had invited YF, Miyamoto, backhanded YF in the shoulder and motioned with his head toward Tatori.
“Looks like a scraper wants to talk to you.”
YF was about to ask what a “scraper” was, but decided he wasn’t going to like the answer. “Uh huh,” he said instead. He pushed his way through the crowd until he reached Tatori, standing next to the latter’s seat. YF remembered Tatori as a bully and an overall asshole. And here in the Golden Cup, as usual, he was surrounded by his asshole looking friends. Thankfully, YF didn’t recognize any of them.
“Hey guys this is an old pal, Sakai, from school,” Tatori announced.
“Old pal?” thought YF. After middle school Tatori went to KRKGK 205, while YF went to 206. As was common among schools in Itsugo Gochome, eventually rival groups had to settle their differences by meeting in the lower levels carrying baseball bats. YF remembered Tatori being part of a particular school gang that thought they could take on the 206-Six, as Eiji’s crew was known at the time. It was hard for YF to view Saru as anything but his close friend and brother. But the night of that incident with 205, Saru turned into a monster.
“From the Sentinels to driving around the reactor,” said Tatori. “Not bad, not bad.”
Of course Tatori was making an underhanded comment. YF wanted to say something to gloat but realized he had not accomplished much more than what Tatori did after high school. If anything, Tatori probably made more money and commanded more respect than he did.
“You follow up on me?” asked YF.
“Oh come on don’t get so uptight Sakai. I just know things here or there, it’s nothing personal.”
YF could see the men sitting around the table tense up. He then noticed Miyamoto glancing toward them from the truckers’ booth, making him even more uncomfortable. YF tried to ignore it, focusing his gaze on Tatori.
Tatori pulled out a chair. “Have a seat.”
YF found himself sitting down, even though he’d rather not. The large head of one of Tatori’s companions blocked his view from Miyamoto, causing some unexpected relief.
“Drink?” asked Tatori.
“Just a beer.”
Tatori reached for the order terminal and placed an order for two draft beers and a bottle of shochu. “You need to live a little more my man.”
“I’m not your man,” said YF.
There were a few “oh hos” from around the table followed by silence.
“I see I see, fair enough.” Tatori raised his hand, smiling a dangerous smile. “I’ll get right to it then.”
“Go ahead,” said YF.
“I’m trying to affiliate us with a family out of Gochome,” Tatori explained.
The hairs on YF’s neck stood up. “For what?”
“To get me and my boys—” Tatori started. He then placed the back of his open hand on YF’s chest, as if daring him to do something about it. “— and you, my man, out of this fucking rat race we’re in. Enough to live wherever the fuck you want, do whatever the fuck you want. What do you say? Real freedom.”
YF wanted to think he would reject such a proposal. But instead he found himself thinking once more about riding his bike far to the west. He reimagined the empty bar in the mountain town, and the lights lining the road to the tunnel. “Which family out of Gochome?” he heard himself asking.
“The Uwada family of course. The rising star. And I heard they have a secret weapon.”
“Mori,” YF thought, shuddering. “A secret weapon? Like what?”
Tatori shook his head. “I don’t know, but whatever it is it’s pushing out all the other families. Nakajima is going to be in real trouble.”
YF nodded slowly.
“Come on don’t pretend like you don’t know about Uwada and Nakajima.”
YF could tell Tatori was not only talking about the crime families but was also referring to Uwada being Erika’s ex-boyfriend. As if sensing his thoughts, Tatori’s expression changed to one of mock innocence. Perhaps even he knew that was too far.
“Sure I’ve heard of them,” said YF.
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“Well!” Tatori exclaimed as the drinks arrived, grabbing a mug of beer and plopping it in front of YF. He dumped a shot of shochu and dropped the shot glass into the beer. “It would be best to affiliate ourselves as quickly as possible. We have to grab onto the gunwale before it rises too far, if you catch my meaning.”
YF spent a few seconds debating how he should respond next. “What’s in it for me?”
“That’s my man!” Tatori shouted. The others grabbed their mugs and raised a toast as well.
“So what I need from you is pretty straight forward,” said Tatori. “Figure out when it’s your turn to wave people in. When you do, you need to wave through a list of people. There will be pictures with names. Next is the somewhat difficult part.”
YF didn’t like the sound of that.
“I need you to load all of us into your truck and take us to where I tell you.”
“Where is that?” asked YF.
“I’ll tell you soon enough.”
“You’re going to tell me now,” YF insisted.
Tatori leaned in. YF was expecting him to suddenly strike out if he leaned in as well, but when YF brought his head closer to the table, Tatori only began to whisper. “The Vault.”
YF could guess from the name what Tatori was after, but he then thought about what else may possibly be there. “And what do I get?” YF repeated.
Tatori grinned widely. “Oh you’ll get your cut, don’t worry!”
“You didn’t answer my question,” said YF.
The table grew quiet.
Tatori pointed to the drink. “You aren’t having any of that?”
“Not until we have a deal.”
Tatori leaned back in his seat. “Five.”
“I won’t take lower than twenty,” said YF.
Tatori grimaced, his expression breaking for one second. “That’s pretty tough. I’ll give you seven and that’s final.”
“Eighteen,” said YF.
One of the men started to stand up. YF began to rise as well, reaching toward his belt.
“Whoa whoa whoa,” said Tatori, raising his hands. The man and YF stared at each other for a few more seconds before sitting down slowly.
“Fifteen,” Tatori mouthed so only YF could see.
“Deal,” YF responded quickly.
“Good!” Tatori exclaimed.
YF could see from the expressions of Tatori’s entourage that some were confused, a few others suspicious.
YF got up, grabbed his mug, and chugged the drink within seconds. He then placed it gently on the table. “I need to get back to my group.”
“How will you signal us?” asked Tatori.
“You remember what Saru did? Before that meeting we had with 205?”
Tatori’s expression dropped.
“Right, same signal,” said YF.
Without waiting for Tatori’s response, YF started back toward Miyamoto. The latter ordered multiple rounds of drinks throughout the night; he asked the usual questions about where YF was from and about his family, though he didn’t say what was obviously at the front of his mind.
It wasn’t until they were about to board the bus that Miyamoto stopped YF, pulling him to the side and motioning for the others to get on the bus first.
“What was all that about?” asked Miyamoto.
YF stared into his eyes for several seconds, trying to piece together what sort of answer Miyamoto was looking for. He had a feeling Miyamoto was not looking for a simple answer, which only made YF more uncomfortable. “Old friend,” said YF finally.
“Pretty long conversation.”
“I hadn’t seen him in around twenty years,” said YF. “There was a lot of catching up to do.”
Miyamoto raised his hand toward the bus driver, which seemed enough to make the driver wait. As he lowered it, his eyes searched through YF’s as well, perhaps trying to decipher what YF was thinking. “Fair enough,” said Miyamoto.
YF pointed up to the sky. “Let’s get back, sun’s getting higher.”
Without responding, Miyamoto turned around and walked toward the edge of the platform, ascending the steps into the bus.
***
YF was surprised to find an urgent message from building maintenance on his door’s digital display upon arriving at his room. He then noticed the smell of smoke emanating from his room, and the charred marks along the sides of his door. YF touched the switch gently with his fingers before deciding that it was cool enough, pressing down until the door opened. When it slid to the side, the stench of smoke grew stronger, mixed with the scent of bleach and other cleaning products. YF stepped through the narrow hall slowly, noting the fire damage of the cabinets and appliances. When he reached the bed he found his luggage burnt to a crisp on top of it. Multiple urgent messages were scrolling across the room terminal, which seemed to have been built to withstand a fire. YF began to wonder if it was meant to monitor him as well.
He walked up to the terminal and checked the messages, only to find that they said similar things about contacting building maintenance. YF locked the terminal screen and was about to head out when he saw something glowing in the center of where his luggage used to be. He slowly made his way over to it and reached down, hovering his bare hand over the glowing object. Against his better judgment he picked it up, relaxing slightly when he found it to be cool to the touch. YF raised the object closer to his face, and then realized it was the tarot card that Reina had given him.
“What the hell?” YF was not sure what was going on with the card, how he should figure it out, or who would believe him if he asked. One thing he knew though was that he needed to figure out where he was going to sleep that night. YF stuffed the card into a compartment in his arm armor which he had tossed to the side of the room. At least he knew that was built to spec. He turned around and walked back down the hall, exiting the room and making his way to the maintenance office.
***
“What happened?” the middle aged groundskeeper with thick, disheveled hair asked YF. “Mr. Kondo, it's your first day. Thankfully the fire didn’t spread to anyone else.”
“Thanks for putting it out.”
The man waved his hand. “Room’s got detectors for that. I didn’t get there till the firefighters were already done. I started the cleaning process myself but it’s going to take a few days.”
YF could tell in the man’s expression and tone that he really didn’t care. What YF was worried about though, is what sort of compensation the groundskeeper would demand.
“What sort of compensation…” YF started.
“Your bank account doesn’t work, Kondo. We ran a check since the normal procedure is to take it out of your paycheck.”
Did Minami overlook that? Or maybe he just thought YF would finish within a single pay cycle. YF wasn’t sure whether he should be flattered or angry. “I can check on that in town,” said YF. “I’ll get it fixed immediately. It’s my responsibility.” “On Minami’s money, of course,” he added in his head.
The groundskeeper waved his hand again. “Forget about it. The damage was mostly contained to your room, like I said. Get a used mattress that’s been treated so you don’t spread bedbugs. Then go to the hardware store and get a couple buckets of paint, sheet metal, wood, sandpaper, bleach and whatever else you need to fix it. If I don’t notice it when you move out, we’re good. You’re from around here too right?”
YF was taken aback by the question. “Yes.”
“Yeah I’m sure you or someone you know can put together something. Just figure it out.”
YF bowed. “Thank you sir.”