Chapter Twenty Four: Do a Barrel Roll!

The noise of the train came through the window, waking him up.

Keeping his eyes closed, Trash lay in bed, listening to the familiar sounds of his room. Every few seconds now, he could hear the rumbling of another train passing by on the tracks above the window. He could feel the slight breeze from the open window. The morning air was still cool, and not as humid as it had been for the last few days. Hopefully, this meant no rain today.

After lying in his bed like that for a few minutes, Trash decided he should get up. He knew he had a lot of things to do, but he was still in a daze over the events of the last few days. Also, he still had a headache.

Deciding that dealing with the pain took priority, Trash slowly rolled out of bed. He found the shopping bag on the floor next to the door of his bedroom and dug through it until he found the box of aspirin he had thrown in it. He felt a twinge of guilt for taking it without asking, but he figured no one would care, and he knew he didn’t have any painkillers left in the box next to his sink where he kept pills and such.

Freeing a couple of the tablets, he walked over to the sink and was about to fill a cup with water when he had a second thought. He washed the pills down with a room-temperature can of coffee instead.

He put down the half-empty can, wishing he had also grabbed one of those Belgian waffles that Pazu had brought with him. Instead, he dug around the kitchen until he found a couple of Country Ma’am cookies that were probably still good. He opened one up and chewed on it while he finished off the coffee. He put the other one by the sink in case he got hungry later.

He washed his face in the sink and ran the water through his hair, careful not to press on the lump, now much smaller than the day before. He carefully dried off, and then rummaged through his laundry bag for some clothes, settling on a UT shirt with Lum and Tiger Mask on the front. The letters at the bottom of the shirt spelled out “TIGER FIGHT”.

Then he went to his desk. It was actually an old worktable from the factory that he had brought up, but it worked surprisingly well, and was actually quite stylish, at least according to the vloggers that Trash had been checking out in order to get ideas for improving Pazu’s video setup.

On top was a junk monitor and a PC that he had cobbled together from a mix of junk parts and heavily discounted, premium parts. Spec-wise, he was confident it was worth three times the amount of money he had put into it, though it wasn’t much to look at.

As he booted up the computer, he checked his phone.

It was there. It wasn’t a dream. Plugged into a charging cable was his new treasure. It was so valuable that he had hesitated even taking it out of the box, but in the end, Pazu had convinced him to use it. He said it would be a conversation starter to help him pull in customers.

He had checked out online and found that a couple of the phones had been glimpsed in the wild, mostly held by advance review tech journalists, but apparently, the company had recalled them all before the launch cancellation. He guessed that they forgot about the one the Old Goat had, though how he had gotten one was a mystery. Actually it was more likely that he just ignored their request for the phone to be sent back.

That meant, that Trash might have the only one of these phones in the entire country. A true white whale. That might actually make it more dangerous and tricky to try and sell it, especially if the company tried to come and take it back.

With that flimsy logic backing him up, Trash had transferred all his data to the new phone the night before and now it should be charged up and ready to go.

Without a doubt, it was a beautiful device. A mix of metal and glass. He had stopped by Yodobashi Camera on the way back from Harajuku in order to get a screen protector and a clear protective case. Luckily they already had stocked a variety of accessories for the launch. Not wanting to risk his new treasure for even a moment, he had applied all the cosmetic guards before he had even attempted to power it on for the first time.

As the computer finally finished starting up, Trash started going through his messages on his phone.

Still no word from Sakamoto, which was very strange. Trash checked to make sure he was not blocked, but he could still view Ryo’s Twitter account. There were simply no new posts. This was rather unusual as Ryo was a prolific user online.

Danny’s account was still blocked, and his public feed was quiet without any new updates.

Well, at least he could put that whole nightmare behind him. Trash realized that he had come through far better off than he had any right to ask for, though it had still fallen short of his hopes.

He didn’t mind. He was motivated now. He would figure out what to do, and while he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to do going forward, the hints Hibiki had given him, had given him the motivation to try something with all the effort he could muster. He finally felt he had the courage to face the difficulties ahead.

“Fuck!”

He swore out loud as he saw the next message.

[Stopping by to talk.]

Why was that prick coming? Why now? Wasn’t it a weekday? He should be at work. This was bad. Bad. Very bad. Trash could feel the panic driving him to nearly hyperventilate. He attempted to calm himself down by taking a deep breath.

It helped. He took another.

Quickly, he sent an emergency message to Pazu.

[SOB Uncle is coming. What do I do? (·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )]

[SAVE ME!]

He waited, but there was no response. Pazu was probably still asleep.

“FUCK!”

Screaming into the void made him feel a bit better. He and Pazu had strategized a bit on the train ride back. He would play his uncle’s game and see if it got him enough points to weather the storm, at least temporarily.

Taking another deep breath, he went over the plan.

Option 1: Let him stay by paying rent. He figured he could afford 50–65 thousand yen a month as long as there were no extra deposits. To be honest, that was more than a fair price for a place in this condition, but it only worked if they didn’t plan to sell off the property.

Option 2: Extend the grace period. If he could get just a few more months, and actually took it seriously, unlike the warnings over the last year, Trash was sure he could save up enough to put himself in a better position to find a new place. He needed to aggressively sell his collection, but he wouldn’t need to sell it off in a fire sale.

Option 3: Threaten to get a lawyer. This was Pazu’s suggestion. Trash wasn’t sure if he had any rights, but Pazu pushed him, saying that if he could get a lawyer to help him, he might at least be able to put pressure on his relatives to look at the other options more favorably.

While these plans seemed great the day before, Trash was starting to lose confidence with his uncle’s early appearance.

As long as he had known his uncle and aunt, they had always treated him like an eyesore. He wasn’t sure why they disliked him so much. It might have been sibling rivalry with his father, who was generally looked upon by the family as an embarrassment. He also suspected that his mother might have something to do with the strong enmity.

Maybe because she was a foreigner, or because she had been working in a club before getting married. Whenever they spoke about her, it was with a judgemental and condescending tone. Trash recognized that this was similar to the way they spoke about him as well.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

His grandfather never piled on him like his uncle or aunt, but he never stood up for him either. In fact, he always acted like Trash didn’t exist, even when he lived in the same house. He had never once spoken directly with his grandfather. Instead, everything went through his uncle.

Trash checked the time stamp on the message. His uncle always texted while on the way over, so he wouldn’t have much time. Quickly, he swapped out his cargo shorts for a pair of jeans and was about to swap out the t-shirt for something more generic, but he started thinking about the words and the images on the shirt. Tiger Fight indeed. Instead, he grabbed an old white dress shirt that, thankfully, had not wrinkled too much in the laundry bag. He waved it around to straighten it out as much as possible, then threw it on over the t-shirt without buttoning it or tucking it in.

He grabbed his wallet and phone and stuck them in a pocket on his backpack, then went down to wait for his uncle outside. His uncle never came inside, so when they met, he usually just stood outside.

He would go down and talk to his uncle, then head off to Charon. Hopefully, Pazu would get his message. He had a feeling he would need his friend afterward.

When he opened the door to the factory, he was shocked to see his uncle already outside. He saw the short man wearing an expensive business suit, glaring at the factory from across the narrow street.

Trash’s father had not been a large man. He was average at best. By the time Trash was in middle school, he was already taller than his father. His uncle was even shorter than his father, though they were definitely brothers, with many shared features.

Trash always assumed he took more after his mother. By the time he stopped growing, he was already 180cm tall, and though he didn’t have any features that made him look obviously foreign, his jawline was more pronounced, and his eyes were closer together than any of his relatives. His hair was also thicker, much to his relief. His uncle already sported a barcode combover that Trash hoped he could avoid.

Upon seeing Trash exit the building, Trash noticed the man’s face contort through several different emotions. What was surprising was that the emotions he saw registering on his uncle’s face were not at all what he was expecting.

He was expecting the usual annoyance and disgust that he saw every time he met with his uncle. Instead, the moment he saw Trash, his face flashed intense anger. Just for a moment, and then it was suppressed, but for a moment, Trash saw rage in the man’s face. As poor as his relationship with his uncle had always been, he had never seen such anger directed at him before.

Then, just as quickly, Trash saw the anger quickly replaced with something else. It took a moment to register, but the next emotion he could see was just as unusual. His uncle looked at him with worry. For a moment, he thought his uncle might have heard about the accident, but realized that was impossible. His uncle was certainly not worried about his health. While it was a look of worry, it was not the kind where you care about someone else. He was worried about himself. It was a look of fear.

As Trash wondered what was going on, his uncle quickly put a mask over his expression. This was the normal face he wore. Cold and uncaring. A businessman who saw no value in his nephew or his silly, childish hobbies.

「Shin, ehem… yes. Good morning. I’m glad that I caught you.」

「Good morning.」

「Yes… Well, I have some things that I would like to discuss with you. Is there a cafe somewhere nearby where we can sit and talk?」

Trash was flabbergasted. He had never heard his uncle say something like that to him. Perhaps, once, after his father had died. They sat in the old family house, and he told Trash that he would need to move out to the old factory. That was the closest thing to kindness he had ever heard from his uncle.

「Shin?」

Trash inwardly bristled at hearing his name. Then he realized he must have been gawking.

「Umm. Yes. There’s one a couple of blocks away. Is that okay?」

Still confused by his uncle’s demeanor, Trash quickly searched his mental database and decided on the Italian chain cafe near the Suehirocho station, not far from the laundromat he used, the one that served alcohol.

A few minutes later, they were sitting at a small table outside the cafe. As was typical on a weekday, the area was rather deserted, though cars and trucks continued to speed by on the busy street.

「How have you been, Shin?」

「Fine, thanks for asking.」 Trash answered robotically. This situation was getting stranger and more unusual by the minute.

「Yes… Well, the reason I came over was to talk about your moving out of the apartment.」

Trash froze. His mind went blank as he desperately tried to remember the details of the plans he and Pazu had come up with.

File not found.

In a panic, Trash desperately tried to regain his thoughts, but perhaps he was still a bit fuzzy from the hit to the head, or just his general state of mind, he couldn’t focus. It felt like he was trying to catch eels, desperately trying to wrangle his slippery, wriggling, thoughts straight.

「If you would prefer to continue to use the apartment, your aunt Hiroko and I have decided that, provided you immediately start looking for a reasonable job, you can continue with the current arrangement.」

Trash was so dumbfounded that he didn’t register the words properly.

He was like a man overboard, who, having fallen off a ship, knocks away the life preserver thrown at them in a panic.

Desperate to get control of himself, he took a deep breath to calm himself. Then took a moment to organize his thoughts so that he could… What, What?!

「What?」 He blurted out.

Another flash of anger and annoyance passed over his uncle’s face.

「I said, if you want to stay in the apartment, it is okay. For the time being. Although perhaps we can talk about you contributing some rent, once you get a decent job.」

What the fuck?

That was the first thought in Trash’s head. He was almost angry that his relatives had done this to him again. Wound him up and tortured him, for what? Were they just playing with him?

Then came the relief. He could stay. He didn’t need to move out. Even if they made him pay rent… at least he could work on a way, just like he had planned.

This was the best of all solutions. He was shocked and relieved.

「Well, what do you think?」

Cautiously, Trash nodded.

Of course, you asshole! Of course, I want to stay! Trash held his true thoughts inside his mask. Instead, he realized that he was simply nodding like an idiot. He stopped moving his head, but kept his mouth closed, out of fear he would say something and lose this chance.

「Fine. Then, let’s just keep things the way they are for now. Later, we can look at drawing up some papers and setting up a rental agreement, but I won’t push that until you get a steady income. Is that fine?」

Trash nodded, when suddenly a phone rang.

Trash pulled out his new phone, but it wasn’t the one ringing. His uncle was looking at his own phone. Then he made a sour expression, and looked back up at Trash with almost a suspicious glare.

「It’s the office. I need to take this. I’ll talk over there.」

His uncle stood up and walked over to the corner of the street, outside of earshot.

Trash was still sitting in a state of shock. Then he unlocked his phone so that he could message Pazu. Things would be okay! He could stay at the Ooba factory after all. He could stay in Akihabara.

There was already a response from Pazu. He must have woken up.

PAZU [Warning! New information! DO NOT AGREE TO ANYTHING.]

PAZU [DON’T SIGN ANYTHING! Repeat: DON’T SIGN ANYTHING!]

PAZU [Talked to Mom. She’s got your back.]

PAZU [Coming2U WhereRU?]

PAZU [CALL ME!]

WTF?

What was going on? His uncle shows up early; then he says everything is fine. Now Pazu says don’t agree? How does he know? His Mom?

Trash remembered that his mother worked for some high-power law firm. International business law or something. That was where most of their money came from, actually. But what would she know about something like this?

Trash hit CALL on his phone; immediately, it started to dial Pazu’s number.

One ring later, Pazu answered.

「Trash! Thank God. You haven’t signed anything, right? They might try to screw you again. I can’t believe those fuckers. They really are the worst. Even Saki is on your side.」

「Pazu? What’s going on?」

「Don’t sign anything. No matter what. Your uncle, your aunt, they have been screwing you bad.」

「Huh?」 Was all he could get in before Pazu started up again.

「I should have asked Mom before. Once we found out. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Anyway, it’s not like she did anything. It was the Old Goat. It must have been. He called Mom and asked her to explain this to me… to us.」

「Explain what? What are you talking about? They are going to let me stay at the Ooba Factory. Rent free for now. Until I get a job, at least.」

「That’s it. That’s the scam. Fucking bastards! Hibiki. That shady Old Goat! I bet it took him just one phone call. He had your whole family checked out. Something came back saying the paperwork was odd. You don’t need to pay rent. They can’t kick you out.」

「Huh? What are you talking about?」

「Ooba Factory. It’s yours. Your grandfather. He left it to you, in a trust. You know what a trust is? Anyway, it’s yours. You don’t need to pay rent on a building you own. Your uncle and aunt, they were waiting for you to reach adulthood so that you could legally give it to them. Fuckers already have all the other properties and plenty of money from your grandfather. You actually got the smallest share by far, but they wanted to make sure you to got nothing!」

Trash let the words spin around in his head. Was that possible? Maybe. But why did his grandfather…

「Anyway, My mom wants to talk to you. She spoke with someone at the law firm that handles your grandfather’s estate. They said they didn’t know anything about it. Seems they are scared by whoever Hibiki got to check up on things. Anyway, until you talk to Mom, DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING!」

Trash saw his uncle walking back. He looked annoyed.

「Alright. Let me finish up here, then let’s meet up. Thanks Pazu.」

Trash disconnected the call just as his uncle sat back down.

Trash wanted to reach over the table and strangle the little man. His entire life, he had lived in fear of his uncle. Now, for the first time, he realized how small and fragile the man was. Trash had no doubt that he could easily lift him up and throw him in the middle of the street if he wanted.

Why had he been such a coward all his life?

Kenichi Ooba looked at his nephew. There was a fire in the young man’s eyes he had never seen. For the first time, he realized how large he had grown. Now, he saw murder in the boy’s glare.

「So, you know?」Kenichi said.

Trash’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing. Just nodded his head slightly.

Without another word, Kenichi stood up, walked to the road, and flagged down a taxi.

「Piece of shit trash,」 he muttered as he stepped into the car and the door closed behind him.