Love of a Lifetime

the gun. And for a moment, both men wondered if this would be
Date's final night on Earth.

But rather than turn it on the detective, Majima shoved the gun
into his blazer pocket, and swiped the cuffs instead. Acting quickly,
Majima chained Date to the foot bar, and then threw the key clear
across the room. “M-Majima-san! You're making a mistake!” Majima
stood, checking the revolver's chamber. A full stock. Good. Majima
tucked it away again and headed for the back door. Before leaving, he
stopped.

“I don't care what you say to me,” he said. “Those Yomei fuckers
are the reason Kiryu-chan is gone. I don't care if the whole fuckin'
country goes up in flames. I'm killin' every one of them backwater
cunts, if it's the last thing I do.” He reached for the door, ready to
leave.

“Kiryu-san's alive!”
Majima froze, his fingers barely touching the handle. For a
moment, he thought he might have imagined it. Wishful thinking,
perhaps. But as he turned to Date's desperate face, he knew what
the detective said was the truth. “You wanna run that by me again?”
Majima hissed.
“He's alive,” Date gasped out. “He... he made a deal with the
Yomei Alliance. They were gonna pay him off to keep him quiet about
Onomichi, but that wasn't good enough. In exchange for you and
Dojima-kun to get out of prison, he had his death certificate forged.”

451

Slowly, Majima walked to Date's side. He lowered to Date's level,
his eye wide with immeasurable anger. “And how...” he began, “...do
you know all this... Date-san...?”

Date let his head hang. “Because... I signed the certificate myself.”
Majima didn't blink. The muscles in his face twitched with agony and
rage. He looked not unlike the terrifying hannya he wore on his back.
Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled the gun from his pocket
and shoved it between Date's eyes. Date stared, his face pale with
terror.

“Where?”
“I-I don't know.”
“I said where!”
“I swear to you, I don't know where Kiryu-san is!” Date
exclaimed. “Please, you don't want to do this. War or no war, killing
an officer is the death penalty, easy! I don't know where Kiryu is, but
for God's sake, don't ruin your life trying to find him!”
“Shut up!”
Majima pushed the gun in further, and Date twitched. His whole
face was slick with sweat, and he stared at the cold gunmetal of the
barrel. But Majima didn't fire. The longer he held it up, in fact, the
harsher his hand began to tremble. Finally, he pulled the gun away,
and Date realized that he hadn't breathed that whole, tense
moment. Majima once again pocketed it, stood, and headed for the
back door. Date began to panic.

452

“W-wait!” Date called out. “Where are you going?!” Majima
didn't bother answering him. Yanking open the door, Majima
slammed it shut behind him, rattling the entire building to its
foundation.

Majima lingered on the stairwell. Kiryu... Kiryu was alive? A whole
new flood of emotions strangled Majima without warning. He felt
light headed. Woozy. Yet he had no time to sit and catch his breath.
Now was the time to act.

“Kiryu-chan... I'm coming for you.”

453

chapter 2: Gun powder, curry
powder

Bang bang bang! “Akiyama! Open yer goddamn door!” Bang
bang bang bang bang!

The door to Sky Finance flung open, and Majima's hand froze,
half way between himself and the frosted glass. A cute, round young
woman with her hair in a bun glared up at him. She was at least half
Majima's height, but he could see the will of a lion behind those thin
glasses. Judging from her navy pencil skirt and pink neckerchief, she
was probably Akiyama's secretary.

“Business hours are over!” she snapped, totally unafraid. “If you
need a loan, you can leave us a voice mail or come back in the
morning!”

“I need to speak with Akiyama,” Majima said quickly.
The woman snorted. “I told you!” she snapped. “You can come
and talk to the chief tomorrow. When we're open.”
Majima groaned in frustration. “Listen lady, I don't like smackin'
girls around—” Majima took ahold of the woman's shoulder. “—but if
you don't get out the way now—”
Quick as a flash, the woman's hands shot up to Majima's wrist
and twisted his arm painfully, nearly in a complete circle. His eye
bulged out of his head and he yelped in pain. Before he could try and
pull away, the woman slammed her knee into the back of Majima's
own. His stance shattered, Majima was thrown down onto the fire

454

escape, ass first, by the woman's stubby office heel. As it ground into
his sternum, Majima let out a helpless gust of air, utterly blindsided.

“Hana-chan?” Akiyama's voice came from within the office and
he stepped forward. He looked ready to hit the bars after calling it a
day.

“Don't worry, chief,” Hana said. “I told this creeper he can come
back for your money tomorrow. He'll be on his way soon.”

Akiyama looked down. When he saw Majima Goro gasping for
breath beneath his secretary's heel, Akiyama did a double take.
“Hana-chan! Let him up!” he said quickly.

“Huh?” said Hana.
“That's Majima-san! He's one of Kiryu-san's old friends.”
A flash of embarrassment came to Hana's face and she removed
her foot. “Oh...” The minute her weight was off his chest, Majima
gasped and crumbled into a ball like a limp fish. After a moment of
watching the yakuza struggle for his breath, Hana bowed her head,
ever so slightly. “My apologies,” she said, stiffly. “But in my defense,
you don't go around banging on doors and demanding to see the
chief without seeming shady!” She rounded to Akiyama. “Besides, he
looks like bad news, anyway.”
Akiyama helped Majima to his feet. Majima himself looked
permanently bent over. Rather than snap at Hana, he wheezed out a
genuine laugh for the first time since getting Yayoi's letter. “Oh man...
no need to apologize, cutie.” He arched his back, hearing a few things
pop. “I love a woman who can kick my ass...”

455

“Right...” Akiyama turned to Hana with a meek smile. “Listen, I'm
all good here. Head on home. I'll meet up with you tomorrow.” Hana
didn't like the idea of leaving them together, but with one last glance
at Majima, she headed down the stairway and into the night.
Akiyama put his hand on Majima's shoulder, inviting him inside.
“Care for a drink?”

Majima shook his head, closing the door behind them. “I'm good.
I won't be staying long.” He scanned the room. He'd never seen
Akiyama's office before now, though he'd always assumed it was
some cozy, lavish office space with high end furniture and state of
the art computers. In the end, Akiyama's space looked just like every
other office rental in Tokyo. Cramped, messy, and unassuming.

“So what can I do for you?” Akiyama asked. He gestured to a pair
of sitting couches, and they sat across from each other. “I can't
imagine the Tojo Clan is hurting for money. Judging by your suit, I can
only assume today was Kiryu-san's memorial?”

Majima nodded, arms folded across his chest. “HQ is damn near
full to the gills. Everyone showed up. The fuckin' ankle biters.”

“You don't seem pleased.”
“Mm.” Majima flicked his eye over to Akiyama, who was pulling
out a cigarette from his breast pocket. “You don't look to beaten up
over it.”
“Over Kiryu-san?” Akiyama lit up his smoke, smooth as could be,
and leaned back to enjoy it. “Of course I am,” he said, casually. “It
was a tragedy. It's still hard to believe, even weeks later...” Majima

456

narrowed his gaze. He'd never dealt with Akiyama for great lengths of
time, but what moments they did share gave Majima all he needed
to know about the money lender. Akiyama and Majima were kindred
spirits, in some ways.

They were both men who played their cards close to the vest in
life, both having learned it the hard way what happens when you
show your hand too early. Both knew the value of keeping their
smarts under wraps. So when Akiyama gave Majima his condolences,
Majima was alert to any change in expression, body language,
anything, that might tip him off as to whether or not Akiyama knew
the truth. “Are you sure I can't pour you a drink?” Akiyama asked.
“You look tense.”

“That's just my face,” Majima reasoned. He tilted his head
slightly, hands on his knees. “I'm surprised you weren't there.”

Akiyama chuckled. “Well last I checked, I run a legitimate
business.”

“Oh sure,” Majima agreed, “you might not have any ink on your
back, but I heard you made good with the Omi not too long ago.
Word is, you're about as valuable to the yakuza as any one of their
own these days.”

“Well...” Akiyama tapped his cigarette ash in the overflowing tray
on the table. “That didn't exactly help me when the Triads were on
my tail. Not that the yakuza were in position to help anyone then but
still...” Elbows on his thighs, Akiyama rolled his filter between his
fingertips. “Is there a point to all this, Majima-san?”

457

Majima leaned forward, lacing his hands together. “I just had a
drink with Kiryu-chan's old detective buddy.”

Akiyama's eyes lit up. “Ah. So you know Date-san.” He took a
drag, unblinking. “You talk about anything interesting...?”

“You could say that...” Majima could feel the air between them
tense up. He watched the smoke leave Akiyama's lips in wisps of
ribbon-like snake trails. “Tell me somethin'... Where were you when
you got the news?”

“Me?” Akiyama scratched his head. “I think I was above ground
by then... Date-san found me after a visit to the hospital. Told me
that Kiryu-san wasn't going to make it through the night.”

“And did you believe him?”
That pulled Akiyama from his thoughts. A twinge of a smile
slipped through the cracks, and Majima caught it quickly. “I didn't
want to,” he began. “To be honest... there was always something
about it that wasn't quite right.” He took another long drag before
squashing the used filter into the ashtray.
“Last I checked, Kiryu-san was stable. He'd been in and out of
surgeries, and the odds weren't great, but that final procedure went
off flawlessly. The bullets didn't hit his heart, didn't hit anything that
vital. Despite his age, Kiryu-san always had a bill of clean health for as
long as I'd known him. You know what he was like. Strong as an ox...”
He shook his head. “Date-san signed the death certificate the next
day, and he was cremated hours later. You and Dojima-kun get
released, all charges dropped, and everything goes back to normal.

458

Not to mention, every time I ask, Date-san gives me the same, tired
story again and again.

“So if we're asking gut feelings here...? No. I don't believe him. I
don't think I ever did.”

That had Majima smiling bitterly, if nothing else. Reaching into his
coat pocket, he laid Date's revolver on the table, making Akiyama
straighten up in shock. “Your gut just saved your skin, buddy.”

“Majima-san...?”
Majima rested his chin on his threaded fingers, elbows perched
atop his knees. “Your friend Date-san spilled the beans. Kiryu-chan's
alive. And Date helped him with the vanishing act.”
“Ok...” Akiyama leaned back in his seat, staring at the gun. “So
what's with the...?” He gestured at it.
“Killin' a cop is one thing,” Majima said simply. “But if I'd found
out that you were in on it, and you gave me some bullshit story to try
and cover, I woulda shot you square in between your fuckin' eyes.”
“J-Jesus...” Akiyama's face drained of color, and his shoulders
went stiff. “You're kidding, right? You're kidding...”
“Do I look like I'm fucking kidding?”
Akiyama was smarter than to answer that. He got off the couch
and walked over to his mini fridge, grabbing a can of beer from
within. He laughed, nervously. “I still don't understand you guys,” he
said, snapping it open. “Why is violence always your go to answer for
everything?”

459

“Makes things easier.” Majima swiped the gun and stuffed it back
into his blazer. Standing, he approached Akiyama, his face deadly
serious. “But, now I'm at a stand still. Since you weren't in on it, you
probably wouldn't have any information I need to find him.”

“You're going after Kiryu-san?”
“That's right.”
Akiyama frowned and glanced out the window into the streets of
Kamurocho. “I don't know... Is that such a good idea?”
“Haw?”
Akiyama turned to Majima in earnest. “Kiryu-san never does
anything without a reason, right? He's got to have a good motive for
dropping off the face of the earth, you know? It's probably to try and
protect Haruka-chan...”
“Look, I'm not out to bring him back into the fold,” Majima
argued. He turned, his hands fidgeting on either side of him. “I just...
need... I need to see him again.”
Akiyama softened. “Oh...” An awkward pause sat between them.
“You know uh... I wasn't in on any of it. As you already figured out.”
Majima glanced over his shoulder. “But I know Kiryu-san. I know his
priorities. Laying low or not... he'd want to be close to his kids. Keep
an eye on them as much as possible. If I were you, Majima-san, I'd
start in Okinawa.”

◈◈◈
The days were shorter and the mornings chillier at the
orphanage. The summer was long over, and fall was beginning to

460

creep its way through the tropical shores of Okinawa. Despite that
fact, the weather was still perfect for afternoons on the beach,
especially while the rest of the Morning Glory kids were busy with
school. Even when the day let out, it'd be a while before everyone
would be home for dinner.

Mitsuo and Koji had baseball practice. Taichi was busy with
remedial studies, and Ayako, Shiro, and Riona had a lot more student
council duties these days. Only Eri and Izume were without extra
curricular activities, but the girls still liked to hang out at the
shopping center after school. Hence why, even as it neared four
o'clock, Haruka didn't rush inside to start dinner. There was still
plenty of time before she needed to start prepping. Besides, the way
she saw it, Haruka was busy with important things that afternoon...

“Whoaaaa! So big, Haruto!”
“Pbarrfffft!”
“Where do you think this seashell should go? Here? Maybe
here?”
“Aahhhhh.”
Haruka's smile spread wide, and she wrapped her arms around
her knees. Digging her toes in the cool sand, she watched as Yuta
built a lopsided, barely stable sand castle with Haruto in his lap. A
floppy, tan hat protected Haruto's face and head from the sun. As
they played in the sand, Yuta's secondary job was to keep Haruto
from shoveling fistfuls of the stuff into his mouth. It was a task, but
one that Yuta mastered diligently.

461

Sitting a yard away, she admired the pair of them. It'd been a long
time since she'd ever felt such peace. Not since Kiryu first brought
her to Morning Glory, she recalled. It felt like her world, once so big,
and so scary, was now small and comfortable. And every corner of it
sat there, on that beach, playing with that ugly, half-collapsed sand
castle.

“Let's put this here...” Yuta, with a piece of slim drift wood,
perched it on one of the tall, lumpy spires of the castle as a final,
finishing touch. “There we are! All done!” With a shriek of glee,
Haruto clapped his hands and then dove head first into the sand
castle. Yuta tried desperately to hoist him up, but the kid was
slippery, and soon, he was buried head first into the damp sand, with
only his chubby thighs sticking out of one side. Yuta quickly pulled
him up in a panic, but Haruto was laughing at the top of his lungs, hat
askew and caked in sand.

“Ugh... We just gave you your bath, too!” Haruto slapped his
hands onto the castle, blowing bubbly raspberries from his lips. Yuta,
after making sure that Haruto was secure in his lap, turned to
Haruka, who was busy smiling at the pair of them, lost in her own
world. “I'll give him another one later,” he promised.

Haruka nodded faintly. She stood from the sand and brushed off
her capris. “We should probably go in soon anyway.” Yuta agreed,
and after a quick wipe down of Haruto's sandy head, they wandered
inside. Yuta headed straight for the bathroom while Haruka broke out
the vegetables for tonight's curry. As she chopped, she separated

462

about a quarter of the veggies for their own, separate pot. Yuta liked
his curry far spicier than anybody else, and so Haruka had started
forming a habit to cook his with extra spices. It was better than just
adding hot sauce after the fact. She was just setting the pots on the
stove when Yuta reemerged, with Haruto, who was now in a new,
fresh onesie.

“Had to give him a diaper change,” Yuta explained, putting Haruto
in his high chair. He leaned down, and Haruka grinned as Yuta
smooshed his nose against Haruto's soft cheek. “He had a big present
for Daddy, didn't he?” Haruto squealed, and Yuta kissed his forehead.
After which, he straightened up and turned to Haruka. “Do you want
some help?” he asked.

“Mmm...” Haruka looked around the kitchen. “You can start on
the rice if you want. Izume and Eri should be home soon.”

“Sure.” Yuta glanced up, noticing the canister of rice was on the
top shelf over the stove. Without thinking, he went over to grab it,
only to accidentally bump Haruka as she cooked. “Oh! Sorry—” He
paused, his fingers just barely touching the rice, as Haruka looked up.
Stalled by their closeness, Yuta's whole face went red. Haruka, for her
part, kept their eyes locked on one another. Her heart shot into her
throat as she inched forward just so, enticed by the heat of Yuta's
body.

Quickly, Yuta swiped the rice from the shelf, turned and started
prepping it for the cooker.

463

They worked in silence, Yuta making sure to keep his eyes on the
rice. Haruka, watching him shy away, turned back to the curry pots
with a soft sigh. It'd been a month since they'd moved to Morning
Glory with Haruto. During that time, Haruka had mourned for her
father, yes. There was always something to do, either for their own
baby or for all of her younger siblings. And yet...

Lately, those small moments had been popping up every so often
between herself and Yuta. Small moments of honesty, starting to
poke its head out through the fog of all that happened between
them. They were Haruto's parents. Together with the other kids, they
were all one big family. Was it so bad that Haruka wished that she
and Yuta could be more than that? After all... they were once
before...

“Yuta...?” Haruka's voice stalled his hands as he moved the rice
over to the sink. Haruka glanced at him, but Yuta didn't meet her
eyes. “Why don't you ever... kiss me?” Yuta stared at the rice in his
hands. “You won't even sleep on the same futon with me and
Haruto... How come?” Yuta's hands slipped, nearly sending the bowl
of rice down the drain. He grabbed it quickly and cleared his throat,
starting to wash it.

“I... I uh...” The back of his neck burned as he rinsed the bowl. “I
just...” Gently, he lowered the bowl to the bottom of the sink. He
turned, just so, finally looking Haruka's way. “I didn't know if...”

“Ahem.”

464

Both Yuta and Haruka jumped out of their skin. They whipped
around to see none other than Majima Goro standing at their open
kitchen door. “I hope I ain't interruptin' nothin'.”

“A-ah! Majima-san.” Quickly, Yuta bowed his head. “Sorry, we
didn't hear you knock.”

“Didn't bother.” Majima crouched down by Haruto's high chair,
grinning. “And how're you doin', little killer? You miss your Uncle
Majima yet?” Haruto boldly grabbed at Majima's eye patch, letting it
smack him as he released the leather. Majima winced, stood up, and
rubbed his socket. “I'll take that as a no...”

“What are you doing here, Uncle Maji?” Haruka asked, curiously.
“If I knew you were coming, I would have made a little more dinner.”

“Ooh! What are we having?” Majima wandered over to the stove
and sniffed. “Curry? Smells delicious, Haruka-chan!” Haruka smiled in
thanks, while Yuta, perpetually hovering behind her, eyed Majima up
and down. Unlike at the memorial, Majima was in his usual snake-
skin, no shirt, low leather pants combo. Sufficient to say, none of the
yakuza Yuta knew back home ever dressed quite like Tokyo's
underbelly. Majima caught sight of Yuta's staring and put a hand on
his hip. “You got somethin' on your mind, Yu-chan?”

Yuta stiffened. “Er, no, I—” Yuta paused, processing Majima's
nickname. “'Yu-chan'?”

Haruka giggled and addressed Majima. “Everyone's still at school.
Was there something you wanted to talk about, Uncle Maji?”

465

“Aa,” Majima nodded. “You got a second, Princess?” His face
sobered, and Haruka could feel some serious news on the horizon.
“You might want to be sitting down for this.” Pulling out some of the
stools at the kitchen island, Haruka and Yuta took a seat. Majima
stayed standing. “I need to know if you've noticed anything around
the orphanage lately.”

“Noticed anything?” Haruka asked. “Like what?”
“If you've seen anything suspicious,” Majima clarified. “Or if you
felt like Morning Glory was being watched at any point. Any
mysterious packages or anonymous donations?”
Haruka furrowed her brow. “I... I haven't noticed anything
strange, really. Though we've been getting plenty of donations
recently.”
“Oh?”
“We think it's from the Tojo Clan,” Yuta explained. “Ever since
Kiryu-aniki...” His words trailed off and he cleared his throat. “Well, I
have a theory that the Tojo is donating money to Morning Glory
through shell accounts. As a way to honor Kiryu-aniki's legacy. That's
what I always figured, anyway.”
“It's been non stop since the news broke,” Haruka explained. “We
have more money than we'd ever need. So I started up different
accounts to put everyone through university. Including Haruto.”
Majima's smile flickered. “I wouldn't expect anything less from
you,” he said. That smile fell once more, and he put his hands on the

466

counter. “Still... can you think of anything else out of place? Even if
it's a gut feeling, I'd like to know about it.”

“No...” Haruka furrowed her brow. “Uncle Maji... what's
happening? Are we in trouble?” Immediately, Yuta sat up stiffer,
ready to jump into danger, should the situation call for it. Majima
knew that look, and knew it well. It was identical to Kiryu's own
stupid face whenever he smelled danger.

“Haruka-chan...” Majima took a breath. “Your Uncle Kaz... he's
not dead.” Majima looked up as Haruka's face cracked in shock.
“Listen, I know this is a lot. According to that detective friend of his,
he made a deal to keep everybody out of harm's way. You, your boy...
even old farts like me. In exchange for protecting everyone, he'd
agree to drop off the radar. And I need to find him.” Majima gauged
Haruka's reaction, trying to fish out the truth behind the shock, but
Haruka didn't look like she'd heard half of what Majima said. Her big
eyes were glossed over, and her breath was shallow and quick.

“Uncle Kaz...” Haruka put a shaking hand to her heart, staring at
the fruit bowl on the kitchen island. “He's... he's alive...? Uncle Kaz
is...?”

“Are you sure?” Yuta, also reeling from shock, stood from his
stool and leaned over the counter, his eyes begging for confirmation.
“You're absolutely sure he's alive?”

“As sure as I can't wink, boy,” said Majima, arms folding. “That
detective forged his death certificate. I've known Kiryu-chan for
decades, Princess. I've seen him take ten times worse than a couple

467

of fuckin' bullets. 'Scuse the language. But it's been sitting wrong in
my gut ever since I got the news. I know he's out there. And when I
find him...” Majima's jaw clenched. “When I find him, I'm going to
beat his ass for ever thinking he could leave us behind.”

Haruka shivered, stifling a sudden sob from behind her hand.
Yuta, quickly, went to her side. He gently held her shoulders as a new
wave of tears broke through her barrier. “Uncle Kaz...” she whispered.
“Are you alive...? Are you... are you really...?” Yuta hugged her softly,
looking up to Majima with a drawn in brow.

“Where do we start?” he asked. “Say the word, Majima-san, and
there.”

“Oh no.” Majima shook his head. “Your job is here, Yu-chan. Don't
forget, you got a nice little family here to look out for.”

“But sir—”
“Listen kid,” Majima said. “It's likely that Kiryu-chan is acting
totally on his own. But if there's some foul play here, you gotta be
ready to protect this place with your life.” He straightened up, staring
at Yuta seriously. “Are you ready to do that, Yuta?”
Yuta's protests died in his throat, and he nodded, more
determined than ever. “I've been ready to die for them since the
moment I knew the truth,” he said honestly. Haruka, through her
tears, lifted her head and stared up at Yuta.
“Good.” Majima glanced at Haruto, who had taken to gnawing on
the tiny, rubber spoon from his high chair table. “I'll let you love birds
have your dinner then,” he said. “Listen. It's real important that you

468

don't spread the word to anybody else, not even those kids. But if
you see or hear anything, you text me immediately. All right?”

Haruka nodded, wiping her face. “Yes...” Majima, with a pat to
Haruto's head, turned to exit the house. But Haruka wasn't finished.
Standing from Yuta's arms, she called out. “Uncle Maji.” Majima
turned, and without shame or hesitation, Haruka barreled into
Majima, squeezing him around the middle with a tight, loving grip.
“Bring him home... please.”

Majima hugged her back, gently. “I promise.” He let the hug
linger a few moments before leaving the house in silence. As he did,
he paused in the front lawn, looking around. Not much had changed
over the years. He could almost see Kiryu in his white pants and
printed shirt, standing in the sunlight. Calling for his kids to come to
dinner...

The hair's on the back of Majima's neck tingled. Majima was
careful not to turn his head, and instead went for the cigarettes in his
breast pocket. As he lit up, he subtly glanced off to his right. Through
the foliage in front of Morning Glory, he saw a figure, shifting. By the
time Majima blew out his first puff of smoke, he saw the figure shift
out of sight and vanish from behind the chest high wall. Casually as
he could, Majima started walking. By the time he cleared the wall,
whoever he was looking for was long gone. So, Majima started
walking. It wasn't a perfect tail. In fact, Majima couldn't get a good
look at his target at any point in time. It was always a flash of cloth,

469

or a distant footstep, or the snap of a twig. Little details that, for an
untrained eye, would have been impossible to keep up on.

Majima would be the first to admit that he didn't know up from
down when it came to Okinawa. But he had a feeling that wherever
his target was taking him, going in circles was definitely on the to-do
list. There were a few times that Majima worried that the trail had
gone cold, only to let his gut lead him this way or that. Eventually, he
found his way through a few dark alleys, down a dirt road, and ended
up at what could only be described as a small Colosseum down in the
dirt. Peering through the darkness (the sun had set an hour ago), he
saw a depressed circle of dirt, surrounded by high barred walls. It
reminded Majima of some kind of dog fighting ring. Although with
how big the gated cages were attached to it, he figured that
whatever fought in that thing was a lot bigger than a dog.

Majima walked down through the stands, peering around the
arena for any sign of his target. “This is gettin' real tiresome,” he
called out. As he walked, he put one hand in his jacket pocket,
fingering the revolver hidden inside. “Y'know... originally I thought
you mighta been Kiryu-chan... But the Kiryu-chan I know wouldn't be
such a coward to try and run from me.” Majima got to the final row
of seats and spun where he stood, listening for any indication of his
pray. Or, perhaps now, his predator. “So come on out now... and I
promise I won't kill ya.”

With a mighty thunk, an electrical switch echoed through the
arena, and blinding floodlights made Majima wince and shield his eye

470

with his hand. He just managed to blink away the dazzle when he
heard a faint cock of a long barrel rifle about twenty yards off. Acting
quickly, Majima dove into the pit. The concrete step he'd been
standing on exploded as a bullet made direct contact, sending dust
and debris scatter every which way. The gunshot echoed, and
Majima, rolling to a crouch, pressed himself against the solid wall of
the dirt pit. He peered through the metal bar of the animal cage,
searching for his mysterious gunman. A flash of metal reflected from
the floodlights, and another bullet grazed the metal bars as Majima
dropped to the ground, avoiding the headshot.

“Sonuvabitch!” Majima swore. He yanked out the revolver and
fired blindly in the direction of the opposing bullet. More gunshots
went off, and Majima did his best to brace himself against a slab of
concrete. One of the shots fired managed to actually graze Majima's
arm through his sleeve. Considering how hard Majima was hugging
his cover, whoever this was had to be one hell of a shot or have some
great luck on their side.

Majima, balancing on bent knees, fired two more rounds before
rolling to a different bit of cover. He checked his chamber. Two bullets
left. “Who are you!?” Majima demanded. Only more gunfire
answered. Swearing under his breath, Majima reached out and fired.
The gods must have been on his side for that one, because he heard
the distinct, shortened cry of a man lightly wounded. If there was any
doubt before, the young voice was definitely not Kiryu's. It wasn't
much of a sample to go by, but Majima was hard pressed to place the

471

voice at all. “Drop your gun!” Majima ordered. “Or I swear to God,
once I get my hands on you I'mma wring you out like a goddamn dish
towel!” More bullets sounded, and after a moment, silence settled
over the arena. Majima chanced a look around his cover, only to see
a dark shadow frantically try to escape the stadium.

“Oh no you fuckin' don't.” Majima hopped over the arena's wall
and raced after the gunman. In the foggy moonlight, Majima made
out some details of his stranger. He was a skinny little thing, and one
hell of a fast runner. His riffle practically flew behind him as he ran.
Even pumped full of adrenaline, Majima knew there would be no
catching up with the fucker. So, with his last and final bullet, Majima
held up his revolver to his eye, trailed his target, and with his fingers
crossed, he fired.

For a split second, it looked like he missed. But then, the gunman
fumbled, collapsing in a wild heap into the dirt. Majima exhaled with
a grin. “Still got it.” He spun the empty gun on his finger before
pocketing it. Fortunately, he'd only hit the man's leg, which meant he
still had the capacity to answer some much needed questions. By the
time Majima caught up with him, the gunman was still trying
desperately to crawl away. Majima, gasping for breath with his stupid
smoker lungs, stomped his heal onto the gunman's leg wound,
making him cry out in pain.

“Now you just... hold it... right there... fuckface,” Majima panted.
“Ahh... hhhhaaa... Fuck. Stupid... cigarettes...” Majima, still keeping
his heal dug into the man's bullet wound, grasped his side. He was

472

getting too old for this shit. When he finally caught his breath, he
looked down and got a better look at the man's face. That's when
things started to click. “Hey... wait a minute...” Majima knelt down,
and the sweaty, wide-eyed assassin lifted his head. “Ain't you...
Saejima's lil project...?” The man jolted, and stared at Majima
incredulously.

“You know Aniki?” he said.
“Sure do.” Majima lingered, glancing down at the gunman's leg.
“If I let this go, are you gonna bolt?” He shook his head, and Majima
finally let up. Grasping his injury, the man settled into a far more
comfortable position. Majima got a better look at him. His shaved
head indicated prison time, though Majima had a feeling he hadn't
been in the slammer recently. He had big, almost deer-like eyes, and
ears that stuck out at odd angles. “What's your name, son?” He
didn't answer. “What were you doing at Morning Glory? You on the
look out for Kiryu-chan? Somebody hire you to finish the job?”
That seemed to spark something in the young man's face. “You
know that he's alive...?”
Majima narrowed his eye. “Of course I know. Why do you know?”
“Who are you?” the young man pressed. “How do you know
Saejima-aniki? How do you know about me?”
“I'll ask the questions if you don't mind, thanks.” Majima
removed his faithful tanto from the inner pocket of his jacket.
Unsheathing it, he let the blade glint in the moonlight. “Like why are

473

you hangin' around Haruka-chan? What do you got that big toy for?
Who hired you to hunt down Kiryu-chan?”

“You have it wrong,” he said quickly. “I'm not here to hurt Kiryu-
han. Or his daughter.” He froze up when Majima held the blade of his
knife up to his face, mere centimeters from his eye.

“Start talking, kiddo,” Majima threatened. “Start with your name
and why you're here.”

The gunman took a breath. “I'm not here to hurt anyone. Kiryu-
han... hired me.”

Majima's heart dropped. “Hired...?”
“Yes. To protect the kids at that orphanage. Indefinitely.” Majima
lingered. After a moment, he sheathed his tanto and stood, offering
the gunman his hand. When he took it, Majima hoisted him to his
feet (or foot, more specifically. He was going to need a good bandage
for that bullet wound).
“You still haven't told me your name,” said Majima. “My kyodai
musta mentioned it, but I don't pay attention to half the shit he says
most of the time.”
That elicited a small smile from the gunman. “My name is Baba.
Baba Shigeki. I'm... assuming we have a lot to talk about.”
“You're goddamn right we do.”

474

chapter 3: alive again

There weren't many places open at all hours in Okinawa. Despite
its tourism, it had always been a sleepy sort of town, with only a few
bars operating on Tokyo time. After ditching Baba's rifle in his vehicle
(which Majima fondly referred to as: “The Orphan Creeper 5000”),
they headed down on the monorail and sought out the first open bar
they could find.

It was a small space, draped floor to ceiling in furniture that tried
far too hard to be high end. Everything from the hipster arm chairs to
the coffee tables far too low for anyone to actually reach while
sitting. Majima grabbed them a couple of drinks, and they found a
table in the corner of the bar, hidden away from what few patrons
were there. Majima was sure to get comfortable. He was sure that
they were in for a long night.

“How'd Kiryu-chan find you?” Majima asked.
“It was mostly by accident,” Baba explained. “I was on the lam
and ended up in Okinawa.”
“Why?”
Baba sipped his drink. “You know that Saejima-aniki was locked
up in the prison just off shore, right?” Majima nodded. He
remembered Saejima mentioning it. “I guess I was just... retracing his
steps. The last time we met, he left the door wide open for me to join
him when I was ready. Even after everything...” Baba trailed off. After

475

a moment, he shook his head. “Anyway, I think going through what
he went through made me appreciate the offer that much more. In a
weird way.”

“And you bumped into Kiryu-chan while you were here?”
“Sort of. More like he bumped into me. With his fist.” That got
Majima smiling. Baba elaborated. “I found the beach by Morning
Glory, not knowing its significance. It was late. I was just sort of
wandering. I was about ready to leave, when I saw Kiryu-han
watching me. I didn't even notice him there. He must have figured I
was yakuza just from the way I looked. Like he had a sixth sense
about it. He demanded to know who I was and what I was doing
there. I told him to fuck off.” Baba chuckled. “That was a mistake.”
“I'll say.”
“He kicked my ass. Royally. I don't mean to brag, but I gave
Saejima-aniki a run for his money the last time we faced off. I've
never seen anyone who fought like him...” Baba pulled up his shirt,
showing off a few shiny bruises. “I think I have a few fractures...”
Majima grinned over his drink. “I'd say you got off easy.”
“Well...” Baba flattened his shirt. “The fight caught the attention
of somebody in the orphanage. Kiryu-han dragged me with one hand
over to the rocks and hid us until whoever it was was gone. We
walked along the beach until we were far enough to talk. I told him
who I was... and he told me who he was.” Baba shook his head. “If he
hadn't just handed me my ass on a platter, I don't think I would have
believed it.”

476

“Then what happened?”
“We got to talking. It's funny... Ever since I met Aniki, every fight
ends with some kinda heart-felt conversation. I can't help but think
that's his doing.” Baba took another drink. “I told him what Saejima-
aniki offered me. A clean slate. But I didn't know if I should take it. I
still don't know if I can.” Baba rubbed his thumb back and forth along
the rim of his glass. “He said... that while I was thinking it over, he
could give me a job.” Pulling out his phone, Baba opened his screen
and pulled up a payment app. “He'd transfer me money every week.
All I have to do is make sure no one suspicious is hanging around his
kids.”
“And does he know what kinda toys you play with?” Majima
asked.
Baba shrugged. “He didn't want the details. So long as they're
safe? He won't ask.”
Majima leaned over to examine the phone. “That's a hell of a lot
of cash per week...”
“Yeah...” Baba pulled back his phone and thumbed through the
transactions. “I only take what I need to live. The extra money
doesn't really interest me. Whatever I have left over, I donate it
anonymously to the orphanage. Figured they'd have a better use for
it than I could.”
“Hm...” Majima took a deep drink of his liquor, eyeing Baba's
smart phone. “So after Kiryu-chan gave you this job... then what?

477

Where'd he run off to? He's clearly not here or he'd be checking up
on those kids himself.”

Baba sighed. “That I don't know. Whenever he calls, it always
shows up as a different number. I think he's got some kind of ID
scrambler installed on his phone.”

“Kiryu-chan installed that? He must have had someone help him
out... He's never been great at the whole smartphone thing.”

“Maybe.”
Majima tapped his finger on the table. “When does he call?”
“Usually on the weekends.”
“Are there any background noises? Trains? Airplanes?”
“None that I heard.”
“And you never asked...?”
“I didn't think he'd ever tell me if I did.”
The two sighed together, staring at Baba's phone. They were at
an impasse. Majima gnawed on the stir straw, which clinked against
his ice cubes. While he was deep in thought, Baba looked up from his
phone, suddenly curious. “Sir... Majima-han.”
“Haw?” Majima looked up, jaw askew.
“Why do you need to find him so badly? If you don't mind...”
Majima closed his teeth around his tiny straws. After a moment,
he set the drink down, hand flat on the table top. “I don't know, to be
honest,” he admitted. “He walked outta my life years ago. Finding
him again... I dunno what it's supposed to accomplish. Maybe I just

478

wanna make sure for myself? That he's alive...?” He closed his eye,
hands folded on his lap.

“I promised Haruka-chan I'd bring him home. But honestly...? The
man's stubborn as an old bull. Even if I did manage to beat some
sense into him, I don't know what good it would do. If he thinks it's
for the good of his little girl...” Majima let his head roll back onto his
chair. “He'll never change his mind.”

For a while, neither man spoke as the minutes ticked by.
Awkwardly, Baba poked at his ice cubes with his own pair of stir
sticks, seeming to slowly piece things together in his head. “Majima-
han...” He lifted his eyes. “Are you... in love with Kiryu-han?”

Majima lifted his head. His expression barely changed. “'Course I
am,” he said plainly. “Ain't you in love with my kyodai?”

“Wh-what?” Baba sat up straight in his chair. As if he hadn't just
been a killer gunman with deadly aim, Baba's face lit up like
fireworks. It made him look ten years younger. “What gave you that
impression!? Saejima-aniki is my... he's—!”

“Sure, sure, kid.” Majima finished off his drink and set the empty
glass aside. “That's why you've been pussy footin' around his offer,
right? You saw him, what... Three? Four years ago? You think you
woulda made a choice by now.”

Baba pouted, folding his arms on the table. “Get off my case...”
“Tch. Fine.” Majima leaned in, gesturing at Baba's phone. “Pull up
that money app again. I wanna see somethin'.” Baba did as
instructed, and Majima thumbed through the transactions.

479

Something clicked as he read the details. “Just as I thought... ATM's.”
He showed Baba his findings. “So old fashioned. Leave it to Kiryu-
chan not to know how to do a digital transfer.”

“Wait, really?” Baba took the phone back. “No way... I never
looked that closely at them. I always just figured he'd use an app...”

“I toldjya. He's not good at phone stuff.” Majima took the phone
back and expanded the details. “It's a Poppo store... Like there ain't a
million of those in Japan... Ah, here's a zip code...” He typed it into
Baba's maps. “Well son of a bitch...”

“Where is he?” Majima flipped the phone around, and Baba read
the city aloud. “Kyoto...? What's he doing in Kyoto?”

“Ain't it obvious?” Majima said. “It's the perfect half way point.
Far enough from Tokyo and Okinawa to stay under the radar, but if
anything goes down, he's just a puddle hop plane or a few hours
driving away.” Majima returned to the maps, typing in a few more
things. “Predictable old bastard... Staying close to keep an eye on
things, huh...?”

“What are you looking for now?”
“Specifics...” Majima zoomed in. There were quite a few Poppo's
sitting around Kyoto. It was, after all, a tourist destination. Even the
ancient castles had their convenience stores across the street.
“Bingo.” Majima took a snap shot and immediately sent himself a
text with the map locale. “You shoulda gotten a pay app, Kiryu-
chan...” Handing Baba his phone, Majima stood, ready to go.

480

However, he caught sight of the clock on the wall. “Hn... This stupid
fuckin' island... Is the airport even open right now?”

“Eh?” Baba checked his phone. “I guess not. It's nearly midnight.”
He lifted his head. “You need a place to crash?”

“If you wouldn't mind.”
“Sure.” Baba stood, and the pair of them left the bar together. It
was about a mile walking, during which, Majima got the idea to grab
a pack of beers on the way to Baba's apartment. They split the cans
between them, making light conversation as they went. Through that
conversation, Baba admitted to a few things.
He loved dogs, but cats were starting to grow on him. When he
was bored watching over the orphanage, he liked practicing origami
in his spare time. Baba went on about his time on the mountain side
with Saejima, and how they learned how to hunt and trap from the
locals. Eventually, Baba went on for so long about Saejima, Majima
had to finish off the beers by himself.
“...and then, and I swear that this is true, Saejima-aniki punches
this bear... in the face!”
“That sounds like Saejima.”
“I mean, but who does that!?”
“Saejima.”
Baba stopped and blinked up to his left. “Oh. We're here.” Both of
them now roundly buzzed, Baba walked Majima up the steps to his
apartment door, unlocked it, and let him in. It was small, with hardly
any amenities other than the basics. Although, Majima half expected

481

it to be trashed with instant ramen packages and empty cans. It
seemed that Baba liked to keep his space clean.

“I'm gonna stay awake a little longer,” Baba announced, kicking
off his shoes. He headed for the kitchen and pried open the door.
Majima peaked inside. More beer. All right, so he had at least one or
two bachelor traits at his age. Baba handed Majima a can, and
Majima went to the window. The space honestly reminded him of his
shitty apartment back in Sotenbori. Beer in hand, Baba walked over
and kicked out his futon. “I don't have a spare. I'll just sleep on the
floor...”

“It's your apartment,” Majima pointed out. “What, you too
embarrassed to share a futon with an old fairy? Afraid I'll diddle yer
fuckin' ass in your sleep?”

482

Baba pulled back, a little startled. “No...” he said slowly. “I just
didn't know if you'd be comfortable sharing...”

Majima snorted. He flopped onto the futon without ceremony,
holding up his can of beer above his head. “What the fuck ever,
Boba-chan.”

“It's Baba...”
“Just go sleep when you wanna go to sleep. Who gives a fuck?”
“I guess...” The minutes ticked on. Baba, rather than sit in silence,
decided to switch on his old TV. He kept the volume low, and made
himself comfortable on the futon. He and Majima laid foot-to-head,
Baba propped up on a few pillows to watch the screen from where
he lay. An hour trudged by. Majima, having long since finished his
beer, put his hands behind his head and stared at the shifting lights
on the ceiling. Watching the TV glow change from blues to whites.
“You have trouble sleepin' too, huh?” Majima finally asked.
“Yeah,” Baba responded. His beer was also finished, and the
empty can rested by his elbow on the floor. “Usually I pass out
around three or four. Get up at six.”
“Jesus.” Majima closed his eye and chuckled. “What I wouldn't
give to have that kinda youth again.”
Baba lifted his head. “Are you really that old?”
“I'mma pretend you didn't ask that.”
Baba laid back down onto his pillows and stared at the ceiling.
The TV was long forgotten now. “How old is Aniki? Your age? Older?”

483

Majima scoffed. “What? You got a problem thirstin' after older
men now?”

“Jesus, knock it off with that.” Face burning red, Baba sat up on
the futon and glared down at Majima. “I don't... I'm not like you.”

“Oh yeah?” Majima cracked open his eye. “And what am I like?”
“We'll you're...” Baba fumbled. “You're a homo...”
“Bzzzzt!” Majima squished Baba's nose with a finger. He'd since
taken off his gloves and jacket to try and get comfortable. Not that it
worked much. “Wrong! Homos are just interested in dick exclusively.
Unless you're a lady homo.”
Baba rubbed his nose. “But I thought you said you were in love
with Kiryu-han.”
“I am.”
“Huh...?” Baba tilted his head. “I'm confused.”
“Me too. About a lot of shit, for most of my life.”
Baba pinched his nose. “Ok... so when you said you love him—”
“Still true.”
“—did you mean like... platonically?”
Majima sat up next to Baba, chin in hand. “You realize you don't
gotta choose between men or women, right?”
Baba lingered. “You... don't?”
“Naw.” Majima grinned. “Way I see it? Life's a buffet. I don't like
restricting myself to one plate, you know what I'm sayin'?”
“I guess.” Baba rubbed his head. “So what does that make
you...?”

484

“Me, personally? A fuckin' mess.”
Baba opened his mouth to respond, but after a moment, his lips
curled into a smile, and he snorted into his hands, laughing. It was
contagious. After a while, Majima caught the bug, and the two
laughed together, comfortable in each other's company. Baba folded
his legs flat, and laid his hands on his ankles. “Whoa... Maybe it's just
cause I was brought up real old school but... I always thought it was
just gay or straight. You know?”
“Pfft.” Majima playfully pushed at Baba's shoulder. “Didn't you go
to prison? You should know better by now.”
Baba cracked a timid smile. “I never really paid attention to this
stuff before...” The smile faded away, and Baba stared at his hands.
“Huh...”
Majima leaned back on his palms, head cocked to one side.
“What's on your mind, kiddo?”
“Erm...” Baba shifted. “I just... I've always been attracted to girls.”
“There's a 'but' in there somewhere.”
“But...” Baba looked up to Majima. “I guess... if you can like
both... Maybe I do have feelings for Saejima-aniki...?”
“That's the spirit!” Majima slapped Baba hard on his back, nearly
toppling him over. “You see? How good does that feel? Admittin' it
like that?”
“It... it feels good,” Baba confessed. Suddenly, he flared up and
shoved his face into his hands. “Ahhh... It's been so long since I've
seen him! And he's been out of prison for how long now? Jeeze, how

485

can I face him after this? How am I even supposed to tell him the
truth—!?”

“All right, all right.” Majima got to his feet and walked over to the
kitchen. “This calls for shots.”

“Shots? At...?” Baba checked the time. “Two in the morning?”
“When else?” Majima rounded up half a bottle of rum and two
shot glasses. Walking back out, he sat on the floor and put a glass in
front of each of them. “We're gonna practice.”
Baba's face fell. “Practice?”
“That's right.” He poured them each a shot. “You're gonna get up
some liquid courage, and you're gonna pretend that I'm Saejima. And
you're gonna tell me how you really feel. You dig me?”
“I... I don't think I have a choice, do I?”
“Damn skippy.”
With a sigh, Baba downed his shot, and Majima followed suit.
Majima poured them a second round immediately and Baba smacked
his cheeks. “Okay...” Legs criss-cross, Baba smacked his hands onto
his knees, as if he was prepared to address a king. He sat there for a
few moments, and Majima edged in forward. Maybe he should say
something...? But finally, Baba whipped up his head, his cute face
screwed up in determination. Majima lingered, waiting, and then...
Baba took his second shot of rum, and followed it up with
Majima's. Majima blinked. “All right. Guess you need a lil extra
courage.” Baba blew through his cheeks, forcefully. Saejima might as

486

well have actually been there for all the pomp and circumstance.
Finally, Baba took a breath and started.

“Aniki...” He stared at Majima, his mouth attempting and failing to
form words. Realizing the ice definitely needed to be broken, Majima
put on his best, brick-faced scowl.

“Yes, Baba-chan?” he said in his deepest voice possible.
Baba snorted and smacked his hands on Majima's bare chest.
“Majima-han!” he whined. “That's not helping! I can't take this
seriously if you're gonna make jokes!”
“Ehhh!? That wasn't a joke! That was my best kyodai impression!
It was good, right?”
After a little more laughter, Baba's smile slowly fell. He remained
where he was, his head bowed between them, staring at their empty
shot glasses. “Aniki...” His hands tightened on Majima's shoulders.
“When you saved me from the snow... all I could think was, 'why?'
What did I ever do to deserve your kindness...?” Majima said
nothing, letting Baba work it out at his own pace. “I thought at first I
hated you for it... then I knew that it was myself I hated. Because
how... how could I ever repay you for everything you did for me...?”
His breath picked up, and Majima felt those fingers tightened.
“Saejima-aniki... I don't... I haven't earned your feelings, but I... I...!”
Baba whipped his head up, and far louder than he meant to, he
shouted: “I love you, Saejima-aniki!”

487

Majima threw up his eyebrows, and after a moment, pat Baba's
hand. “A little strong,” Majima critiqued, “but honest. Saejima
respects honest people. I'd say you're on the right track.”

Baba brightened, when those wheels in his head suddenly
turned, and he let go of Majima all together. Sitting upright, he
suddenly looked worried. “Ah... what if he returns my feelings...?”

“Haw?” Majima was busy pouring them more shots. “Whatchya
mean? Ain't that what you're hoping for?”

“W-well... I've never... I've never kissed another man. I don't
know how I'd react.”

“Are you shittin' me?” With a deep sigh, he handed Baba his shot
glass, clinking his own against it. “Fine. Kanpai.” They drank. Setting
the shot glasses aside, Majima scooted forward. This time, it was his
turn to put his hands on Baba's shoulders. “It's just like kissin' a girl. A
really strong girl, possibly with a bigger mouth, but still a girl.”

“Huh? Majima-han...” His face was glowing against the dim blue
of the TV screen behind him. “What are you...?”

“You wanna practice, don'tchya?” Baba nodded. “Then pucker
up, buttercup.”

“M-Majima-ha—!” Their lips hit with a “smack!” After a moment
of awkward positioning, Baba relaxed his body, finding an easier
place to rest his lips. While Majima kept his eye open, Baba closed his
own, losing himself in the moment. Majima would admit that Baba
wasn't half bad of a kisser. When they broke apart, Baba was
practically buzzing.

488

“You see?” Majima pressed. “Easy.”
“I... guess...” Baba touched his lips, timidly. An awkward silence
followed, interrupted by the corny jingles of the TV commercials.
Majima swiped the remote and decided to shut it off, sending them
into darkness.
“I'm gettin' some shuteye.” Flopping onto his side of the futon,
Majima rolled onto one side, hand behind his head. “Night, Boba-
chan.” Baba said nothing. He was still sitting up, tenderly touching his
lips. After a second or two more, Majima felt the futon shift behind
him. Baba had laid down, only now, he was shoulder to shoulder with
Majima. Laying flat on his back, Baba laced his fingers over his
stomach, staring up at the ceiling. Majima glanced at him. “What?”
Baba closed his eyes. “Is this okay?”
Majima hesitated. He rolled onto his back, hands on either side of
him. Majima heard crickets chirp through the thorny bushes outside.
“Yeah kid. This is okay.” It was a long time since he'd had anyone lay
next to him like this. Majima gently closed his eye, smiling almost to
himself. “Kiryu-chan would sleep like this. All stiff like a log. Didn't
ever matter how much I crawled over him. That man's a rock, I tell
ya.”
Baba turned his head to Majima. “Saejima-aniki tosses and
turns,” he said. “But once he starts sleeping, he doesn't move a
muscle. Until he snores.”

489

Majima laughed. “Yeah. He's always been like that. Do yourself a
favor and never let him fall asleep on top of you. That big
motherfucker'll crush ya into dust.”

“I believe it,” Baba chuckled. Another silence fell over them.
Baba, eyes closed, slowly wormed his way into Majima's side. Majima
didn't react. “I'm sorry. Can I... just...?” Majima said nothing. Instead,
his lanky arm lifted, letting Baba in close, and laid it down behind
him. There, bonded over loves lost, they fell into a light, comfortable
sleep.

◈◈◈
The sound of smacking flesh echoed from the top of an old office
building like gunshots. It was late at night, but Kamurocho was active
as ever. The only reason the commotion above the crowded street
went unnoticed was how high it was taking place. The roof existed as
if in its own bubble, blocking out the sound from below. The sounds
of sweaty skin, gasping breaths, and crunching gravel drifted from
above. Hidden from the rest of the world, Majima Goro and Kiryu
Kazuma engaged in their own, private, personal affair: beating the
ever loving shit out of each other.
Currently, their arms were locked in a grapple. Majima was
sweating bullets, and Kiryu had gotten so involved that he actually
removed his blazer for the fight. Their shoes shifted against the dirt
as they struggled to knock the other away. Unfortunately for Majima,
when it came to a test of pure strength, Kiryu would forever be the
winner.

490

Flipping the script, Kiryu pulled back on Majima's arms, turning
them sharply, before launching Majima straight into an air duct. His
back hit the thin metal, denting it at a thirty degree angle. His world
spinning, Majima didn't get up right away. Instead, he lingered
against his new metal love seat, regaining his balance. Kiryu, his
shoulders heaving with every breath, readied his bloody knuckles.

“Are we done... Majima-no-niisan?” Kiryu gasped.
Majima, also panting desperately, let out a shrill, haphazard
laugh. His bare chest, open to the elements, was cooling rapidly,
turning his sweat cold and uncomfortable. “Yeah... yeah we are... for
now...”
Kiryu grunted, leaning against a stack of old crates. They were
both pretty thrashed. The fight lasted far longer than any of their
recent spats, and they were winded, to put it lightly. Kiryu had a
sizable bruise on his right cheek, and he was pretty sure he'd need to
get his shirt tailored with all the rips in his sleeves. Majima's stomach
looked like someone splattered it with brown and purple ink, fading
into the old scars of his abdomen. Not to mention the bouquet of
split lips and shallow knife wounds divvied up between them.
When Kiryu regained his strength, he wobbled over to where
Majima lay and held out his hand. Majima, blurry-eyed, reached up
and grabbed it. Kiryu pulled him to his feet with ease, though he was
sure he heard something in his back crack loudly. Without a word,
they walked over to the ledge of the building and took a seat. As
their legs dangled off the roof, Kiryu pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

491

He handed one to Majima, and then took one for himself. Majima lit
their smokes in one, fluid motion, before putting away his zippo.
Peace settled over them as they smoked, staring into the skyline of
Kamurocho.

It was early 2006. Just barely a month after the New Year.
“Anything broken?” Kiryu asked. Majima shook his head.
“Good...” He pinched his smoke between his knuckles, letting his
hand linger as he took a drag. Removing the cigarette, he blew the
smoke from his nose. With the neon lights from below, he really did
look like a dragon. Majima paused to admire that beautiful frame.
Kiryu caught sight of Majima staring, and Majima looked away.
“Majima-san... What's the point to all this?”
“The point?” Majima repeated vaguely.
“Aa.” Kiryu leaned back on one hand, rolling his filter between his
fingers. “The surprise fights. The tailing. You got what you wanted.
I'm just the same now as I was before I got locked up.”
Majima chuckled. “I guess you are.” He took a deep drag. “You
sayin' you want me to stop?”
Kiryu hesitated. “Not necessarily,” he said. “I just... I've got to
wonder. What do you get out of all this?”
Majima let the question hang in the air. By the time he was ready
to answer, his cigarette paper was down to the yellow, and so he
squished it onto the ledge next to his thigh. “You really don't know,
huh?” The blank look in Kiryu's eye told him all he needed. Majima
stared up at the stars, smiling softly to himself. “I guess I might as

492

well come out and say it. Since you take subtle hints about as good as
a fuckin' bear.”

“Hints...?”
Majima rolled his head to face Kiryu, his eye twinkling. “I like ya.
You fuckin' oaf.”
Kiryu's lips parted, nearly sending the cigarette falling stories
below. “What?” He blew out any residual smoke and put out the rest.
“You mean you...?”
“Yeah.”
“I... see...” Kiryu turned back to the city, the wheels in his head
turning double time. “Aren't we a little old for this kind of thing? It's
like we're in high school.”
Majima snorted. “So I can't have feelin's for ya unless I'm some
big-eyed school girl? Harsh.”
“That's not what...” Kiryu's words trailed off and he stared at his
hands. “How long? Was this all...” He gestured vaguely.
“No,” Majima admitted. “I like a good fight, same as any fucker
worth his salt. True enough, I wanted you back to peak
performance.” He sighed. “But I won't lie. I had ulterior motives,
too.”
“Oh.” Through the haze of streetlights, Majima could have sworn
he saw Kiryu's cheeks light up. “I... What should I...? I don't...”
“Relax, Kiryu-chan. I ain't about to try and pressure you or
nothin'.” Majima pulled off his gloves and flexed his knuckles. Even

493

with the coverings, they were banged up. Suddenly, Majima shivered.
“Shit. Maybe I should start wearin' a fuckin' shirt or somethin'...”

“It is February,” Kiryu reminded him. Reaching over, Kiryu took
Majima's hand in a move that was both startling and sincere. Kiryu's
hands, somehow, retained heat like no one Majima ever knew. He
must have just had the best circulation in the world.

Bringing Majima's hand up, Kiryu blew on it, and then squeezed
his fingers. “There.” He let Majima's hand go. “You'll get frost bite if
you're not careful.” As he spoke, he swiped his blazer from where he
threw it and started fixing his sleeves.

“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“That? Right there. Here I am, tryin' to see how you feel about
this whole thing. And there you go, putting my needs front and
center. It's like you won't let yourself be a priority. How fucked up is
that?”
“I...” Kiryu blinked, taken aback by Majima's assertion. Plainly put,
it looked like Majima hit the nail on the head. “I uh... I just...”
“Look.” Majima pulled his legs up and faced Kiryu, settling on his
knees. “You're always thinkin' two steps ahead when it comes to
everyone else. Trying to do what's best for that girl of yours, for the
Tojo, hell, even for that stupid lil dog you found. But when was the
last time you acted on what was best for you, huh? What's best for
Kiryu-chan?”
“What's best...?”

494

“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close them.” Kiryu obliged. “Now. Push away everything. The
family, your responsibilities, all of it. None of it matters. And I want
you to give me an answer, a real honest one, about how you feel.”
“But what about—?”
“No 'buts,'” Majima commanded. “This ain't about how I feel, or
how Haruka-chan feels, or anything else. This is about how you feel.”
Kiryu's brow's softened, his eyes still closed. “How does Kiryu Kazuma
feel about somebody lovin' him?”
“How... do I feel...” That question hung between them. Majima
certainly put on a brave face, and was ready to take whatever answer
Kiryu gave him. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel his heart
double in speed. In his gut, he was terrified of what Kiryu would say.
Would he let him down easy? Probably. Majima hated the thought. If
he was going to reject him, he at least would hope that Kiryu would
throw him out like the trash he was. At least then Majima could focus
on anger and not sadness. But that wasn't Kiryu's style. No... Majima
could already feel what was coming. A tender apology, a sincere hope
that Majima still wanted to stay close. He could see those warm,
walnut eyes prying deep into Majima's soul as he told him no. As he
explained, very delicately, that he just doesn't feel for Majima the
way that Majima feels for him. Majima tightened his fists on his
thighs. He didn't want to face it, but the secret was out. And now, all
he could do was prepare his heart.

495

Which was why Majima was so shocked when Kiryu leaned in and
kissed him, flatly.

Majima's eye widened. The kiss was about as simple as you could
get. Just lip on lip. But it might as well have been tongue to ass for
how wild Majima's heart was right then. When they broke apart,
Majima was, for once, at a total loss for words. Staring at Kiryu, he
realized that there were no neon tricks there. His cheeks were vividly
red. Majima had never seen Kiryu blush before.

“That's... how I feel.” Lamely, Kiryu turned back to the city, hands
on either side of him. “It honestly is. Sorry.”

After a moment of stunned silence, Majima finally found his voice
again. “The fuck are you apologizing for?” he hawed. Frantically,
Majima grabbed Kiryu's shoulders and spun him back around.
“Goddamn it, kiss me again!”

“M-Majima-san!”
They fell backward (thankfully) onto the roof, and Majima found
himself on top of Kiryu, kissing him with all his might. Kiryu struggled
at first, but once he was sure that they weren't about to topple over
to their deaths, those big hands wrapped around Majima's waist
beneath his jacket, and squeezed. The kisses lasted for eons, and yet
it didn't ever feel like it was enough. Finally, when they broke for air,
Majima rolled off of Kiryu, and the pair of them stared up into the
sky. They watched as what few stars broke through the light pollution
winked in and out of existence.

496

As they lay in silence, Majima crept his hand ever so slightly
towards Kiryu's own. Their fingers laced together, and Majima sighed,
feeling, for the first time in his life, deeply and wholly contented.

“Ladies and gentlemen. We are beginning our descent into Kyoto.
Please put your trays up and return your seats to their full, upright
positions.”

Majima opened his eye. He was met with the crack of light that
managed to break through his aisle window. He'd tried in vain to
fight his raging hangover since the moment he got up at Baba's
apartment that day. Baba himself had gotten up earlier than was
acceptable to make them a pot of coffee, seemingly totally fine after
a night of hard drinking. Fucking youth and their stupid alcohol
plasticity.

Pulling himself into his full seat, Majima rubbed his face. He'd
returned to the memory, running through it like someone would flip
through an old photo album. It'd been a long time since he'd thought
about that night. There were moments, after their final night
together in Nagasugai, that Majima wished the breakup had been
volatile. Or that Kiryu had sought him out earlier and dumped him
hard. Anything was better than the slow death Majima was put
through. At least... that's how he used to think.

“I'll always love you, you know.”

497

Those words haunted Majima. They had for years. Thinking about
what he expected to find in Kyoto, what he was expected to say,
Majima was finally coming to terms with the fact that he had no idea
what to do if he did manage to track Kiryu down. He had no plan, no
practiced words. He honestly didn't know if this was in the running
for the worst idea possible. All things considered, it probably was.

After arriving at the airport, Majima double checked the address
on his phone. It wasn't that far, so Majima hailed a cab. It was likely
that Kiryu just walked until he found a place that would either take
him in or give him a job, and stayed there. It seemed like a very Kiryu
thing to do. As the cabbie drove, Majima looked out the window,
scanning the streets. Any sign of that gray suit, or that brooding face.
So far, nothing.

The cab drove into Kamigyo Ward. It was definitely a tourist trap.
The buildings were shorter and wider, done up in a refurbished, Edo-
period style. Just about everything looked family owned. From the
onsens to the cafés to the book stores. There were some more lavish
hotels on the horizon, and plenty of traditional sake bars and food
stalls. Finally, the cab arrived at a Poppo store. Majima got out, paid
his fare, and then wandered over. Even the convenience corner
stores were dolled up to look like something out of a stage play.
Majima wandered inside, adjusting his sunglasses as he walked. He
caught a glimpse of himself on the security camera as the teenager
behind the counter greeted him.

498

Majima decided it was best to keep as low a profile as possible,
and in doing so, ditched his usual look for an unassuming, V-neck
black shirt and some matching slacks. The sleeves were just long
enough to hide his tats, and his sunglasses took the place of his eye
patch. Hopefully, the addition of a real leather fanny pack completed
the look: he was just another flashy tourist now.

Grabbing a pre-wrapped rice ball, Majima tossed it onto the
counter, and the employee rang it up. “That will be ¥240.” Majima
handed him a ¥1000 note, and he made change. “Thank you very
much for your business.”

Majima lingered, bouncing the rice ball in his hand. One cursory
glance behind him and he located the Poppo's ATM. “Hey uh...” He
turned back to the employee. “How many of these stores are there?
Still getting a feel for the area.”

“Where are you from, sir?”
“Tokyo.”
“Ah. Unfortunately, there aren't as many out here as there are in
Tokyo.”
“Is that right? Where's the closest one?”
“It's about five miles up the road, sir.”
“Five miles? How about that.” Majima stared at his snack,
choosing his next words carefully. “Say... I'm tryin' to meet a friend
out here. He's also from Tokyo. Just moved, I think. You mighta seen
him?”

499

“We get a lot of people from Tokyo, sir,” the teenager answered,
unhelpfully.

“Well you'd know this guy if you saw him. Tall, gray suit, looks like
he just smelled somethin' bad?” The employee's expression didn't
help matters, and Majima bowed out. “Right, I'll try texting I guess.
Thanks.”

“Please come again, sir!”
Majima stepped into the sunlight and pushed up his glasses.
“Hm.” So far, no one even remotely resembled Kiryu. And going
around asking if they'd seen some big city yakuza was just asking for
trouble. Not to mention, if Kiryu heard wind that someone was
looking for him, he might get spooked and skip town.
Majima wandered until he found a small park. A few kids were
monopolizing the play equipment, while their mothers chatted idly
close by. A perfect, serine setting for someone looking to turn over a
new leaf. Majima found a bench and had a seat. Unwrapping his
onigiri, he paused, half way through the plastic. Kyoto was big. And
not in the way Kamurocho was big. Kamurocho was tightly packed.
Dense. Detailed. Kyoto was... wide. Everything was painted over with
the same, broad strokes.
Majima slumped against his knees, picking at his rice unhelpfully.
He'd never been one for planning things. He'd always been a gut
instincts, fly by the seat of his pants kind of guy. But he was lost.
Majima shook his head and actually slapped his cheek. “Come on,
Goro,” he huffed. “Are you givin' up all ready? Ya fuckin' pansy.”

500