The Hyena Laughs
Oct. 17th, 2020 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerAkiyama Yoko (Willow), Matriarch of the Akiyama-gumi/Akiyama Family, a Direct Family of the Amaya-kai
Kumai Atae (Jesse), Former Matriarch of the Kumai-gumi/Kumai Family, a Direct Family of the Amaya-kai, replaced after the events of A Cup Overflows and Phoenix Spirit
Amaya-kai, the Amaya Clan, the Yakuza Clan that a lot of them are in
Natsukawa Renyo (Buffy), Chairwoman of the Amaya-kai (and Slayer), Miyamoto calls her Natsukawa-sama or Chairwoman
Motome Kitae (Jack O'Toole), Miyamoto's driver and Member of the Miyamoto-gumi
Natsukawa Akeru (Dawn), Matriarch of the Natsukawa-gumi/Natsukawa Family, a Direct Family of the Amaya-kai, Miyamoto calls her mini-Natsukawa or Natsukawa-san
Ikemoto Akiho (Warren), Former Matriarch of the Hisamatsu-gumi/Hisamatsu Family, a Former Direct Family of the Amaya-kai (the entire Family was dissolved after Ikemoto made her move)
Hattori (Snyder), Matriarch of the Kazami-gumi/Kazami Family, a Direct Family of the Amaya-kai
Osato-kai (meaning Big Town to be cheeky/punful), the rivals of the Amaya-kai, sometimes referred to as the Oni Alliance (because more puns and also they actually are allied with oni sometimes)
Underworld, here, refers to the spirits, gods, ghosts, youkai, demons, and other supernatural creatures the Amaya-kai deal with on a daily basis; at some point I'll get more detail about how exactly they interact
Kanemoto Hiroka (Jenny), Matriarch of the Suzumura Clan, a Direct Family of the Amaya-kai
Takemura Kouka (Harkness, Devon Coven), Matriarch of the Aiki Consortium, a Direct Family of the Amaya-kai
Akahoshi Eimi (Sheila), Matriarch of the Kumai-gumi, a Direct Family of the Amaya-kai
Inoue Yuu (Andrew), Member, Cook, and eventually Co-Captain of the Miyamoto-gumi
Kabuto Seara (Michael Czajak), Healer and Member of the Miyamoto-gumi
Saeki Meguro (Wendell Sears), Member of the Miyamoto-gumi
Wakabayashi Mishiko (Kendra), Bodyguard/Direct Report to the Chairwoman of the Amaya-kai
Abe (Willy the Snitch), Izakaya Owner and Information Piñata
Not-so-quick rundown: In this universe, Japan is run by the women. Miyamoto's having a slight crisis about her new status and the honorifics she should use (-sama is more respectful, while -san is more one you'd use for an equal but isn't overly familiar). Natsukawa|Buffy as Chairwoman is the head and highest authority in the Amaya-kai. She has subordinates that answer directly to her and the Direct Matriarchs, who are responsible to her and for their own Families, but if the Yakuza games are any indication are also completely capable of getting away with a lot of stuff behind the Chairwoman's back and don't always have full loyalties to the Chairwoman and Clan. Secondary (and so on) Families are given to subordinates by Direct Family Matriarchs and occasionally promoted for service or to fill power vacuums. (Akiyama's Family was one of those promoted from under the Aiki Consortium; Natsukawa Akeru/Dawn earned the title of Matriarch of her own Direct Family after years of service that Kumai believed to be nepotism and very probably had to do with shady maneuvering; the Kumai-gumi used to be a subsidiary family that were promoted to Direct Family after that Family, the Hisamatsu, went rogue and there are some very serious rumors about the entire "lineage" possibly being cursed.) Miyamoto bypassed all that, so she's definitely feeling a little off-balance. The stated reasoning was that the promotion and Family only exist to hunt down Kumai, but it's hard to tell how much is legit and how much is a test of loyalty and how much of it is Natsukawa throwing her weight around for a friend. I'll go over fictional yakuza politics again and probably in more detail in another background post sometime when I can figure out how to show the clan membership chart in an understandable way (and have all the info ready). This might not be entirely correct, but google is being exceptionally useless when it comes to research and I am not entirely certain I'm understanding everything from Ryu Ga Gotoku correctly, or that parts aren't fictionalized. Miyamoto drifts in and out of thinking in Kansai-ben, an accent that's usually contrasted with Kanto-ben, the version of Japanese spoken in Tokyo, and it's the accent Majima and Saejima, and more to the point of the fic, Miyamoto, speak. It is thought of as more slangy, in contrast to Kanto-ben (you could compare it to Other Accents vs British Received Pronunciation). Shin Sangokumusō is the Japanese name for the Dynasty Warriors series, which is loosely based on the Romance of Three Kingdoms, which is loosely based on real life--the Three Kingdoms period of Chinese history. I've read the book, watched Red Cliff and an odd Japanese animated production, and played a lot of Dynasty Warriors. I recommend it, and I usually don't care for real-life fictional anything. Until she really is a ghost is a reference to Kumai's irezumi. Family Captains are directly underneath Family Matriarchs and are essentially what a First Officer is to a Captain in Star Trek, except there can be more than one. I thought making O'Toole be the driver instead would be funny, so here we are (hint: The Zeppo). Miyamoto doesn't want to be called the Hyena of Kumai, but as Majima gets to be called the Mad Dog of Shimano and Kiryu gets to be called the Dragon of Dojima... Wannabe oni has two meanings here, because on one hand Miyamoto's totally calling her a troll, but on the other, it's a reference to the Osato-kai. Host clubs are where you go to spend a lot of money on alcohol and talk to pretty guys. Hostess clubs are where you go to spend a lot of money on alcohol and talk to pretty girls. Miyamoto heads to a hostess club for the first time, but she'd definitely frequented host clubs before. Some infighting is probably expected, especially as Miyamoto's getting settled in. Miyamoto's playing the original Megami Tensei (megaten) game because she's a nerd (Persona games are a spinoff of the mainline series which includes the general favorite Nocturne). Miyamoto might also be homicidally protective of her Family. Akiyama's parents are definitely not proud of her ending up in the yakuza, but then, both she and Miyamoto kind of followed Renyo in (because for Natsukawa it was family business). Wakabayashi|Kendra's the daughter of one of the nicaraguan immigrants to Japan (he did the night shift in the konbini (convenience store), and his daughter went yakuza to help protect it after a fight trashed the place).
Definitions: ō can also be written in Romanji (roman letters) as ou and apparently I'm alternating on that here.
Chinpira=somewhat insulting term for a lower-ranked yakuza, kind of like calling them 'trash' or 'good for nothings'
Baka=idiot, a much stronger insult in Kansai-ben or Osaka-ben than it is in regular Kanto-ben. (They're not in Kansai or Osaka, so it's worse in Miyamoto's head than it would be out loud.)
Irezumi=tattoo, in this universe irezumi youkai exist in the yakuza tattoos and can be drawn on (like turning a faucet to a trickle) or invoked (turning on a hose at full power).
Shimai=young yakuza, a lot more respectful than chinpira.
Tantou=knife, this one last seen in Phoenix Spirit
Onsen=Japanese bathhouse
Aneki=higher-ranked yakuza
Ofukuro=boss/mother, used as a term of respect by some instead of Matriarch
Gokudou=the preferred term for yakuza (by the yakuza anyway) and I should probably use it more often but I'm inconsistent
imouto-san=little sister
izakaya=pub
youkai=supernatural creature
akuma=demon(s)
Miyamoto's irezumi might be of note here.
As I'm typing I'm realizing that when I finally finish Shadowed Suspicion and start porting a lot of this stuff to Ao3 I might just have to have a chapter of notes before the actual fic. I love what I'm doing with my life, but what am I doing with my life.
More author's notes: background notes
Fic-specific notes: So, uh. Length. Buckle in, everybody, this is gonna be a ride.
There's also another really long fic coming on the Slayer's Mad Whelp side of things, but I've got a fight and a setup chapter before that because I'm actually posting those in order.
Title is totally a Shadow reference.
Main Points:
Buffy/Yakuza AU (Bloody Petals)
Chapter Summary: The making of a Matriarch.
Word Count: 5935
Rating: Teen
Warning: Nothing specific, but there's a lot going on in this fic--Not-Majima Miyamoto being Not-Majima Miyamoto, unhealthy internalization, panic attacks, violence, curses, weird sexual stuff, probably mental health issues...
The first thing they do when Miyamoto feels a little better (which, honestly, translates to not bein’ glared down by the docs) is go eyepatch shopping. It feels a little ridiculous, though the weirdest part is probably where Akiyama-sama…Akiyama-san…keeps babbling to her as they do. (She also takes her shopping just in general, and while the five hundred grand suits feel weird but not entirely out of place, she feels extremely uncomfortable with the dress, partly because how the hell do you fight in the things? Where do you store all your knives? It’s bad enough that foreign pants don’t have enough useful pockets. She’s not comfortable with just putting a knife near her chest, sheath or no sheath, specially as it’s Kumai’s an’ the only reason she’s even hangin’ on in the first place is she’s plannin’ on returning it, blade first. Akiyama-san insists on buying the pirate outfit, pants, cool boots and all, which, well, it’s weird, but it makes the pirate skull eyepatch fit right in, and they go with the simplest design so she can wear it to the Amaya-kai parties. And a couple really fancy looking suits including one velvet and one in leather which is weird but whatever, she’ll deal. And so will everyone else, because she’s a matriarch now.) She goes with two tasteful black eyepatches, the pirate, a couple fancy lace ones, and some steampunk ones which are awesome and Akiyama-san goes with it easily enough. She’s pretty certain she knows which one will be her favorite when fighting, though—there’s a design for Xiahou Dun’s eyepatch in the Shin Sangokumusō series with an extra strap to keep it secure in the middle of a fight. It feels like Akiyama-san is just humoring her, but whatever, she’ll enjoy the fact she’s got all of her working fingers and can play dumb games.
It’s weird enough that Akiyama-san is talking to her like she’s an old friend. Not that she’s not, but it’s been a lot of years, and while Akiyama wasn’t her matriarch she was still higher rank. Everyone was. Now she’s an equal only answering to Chairwoman Natsukawa and it’s really weird, and she’d be more defensive about those questioning her sudden rise through the ranks and family if she wasn’t so downright confused herself.
To say there’s an adjustment period is kinda…really a massive understatement. She’s no stranger to leading others, sure, she’d been Captain for goodness’ sake, but there’s a clear difference in being Matriarch. For one thing, the whole rank thing. She ain’t completely free to do whatever she pleases, but it’s as near as she can get in this whole yakuza business, and she ain’t aimin’ fer the Chairwoman’s chair. Not that she’ll ever really say this out loud, not even with torture, but bein’ Matriarch is already daunting enough.
Suna ain’t really one fer writin’; hell, she ain’t one fer readin’ ‘less it’s a manga or Western comic or the occasional book tie-in, but she’s gonna have t’ do even more paperwork—
Nah, she realizes with a hysterical giggle—that laughter had never quite gone away, after that little incident. Nao-kun can do that shit. He’s still useful; don’t gotta discard him just yet. He can’t show up at clan meetings (and yeah, that leads to her actin’ out worse an’ showin’ up late, not that she’s honest with herself about that much).
Anyhow, she ain’t much fer writin’, but she’s gotta do somethin’ or she’s gonna lose what marbles she’s got left. She’d gone and taken her old desk from the Kumai-gumi office at knife-point, and while there were a lot of dagger-glares and grumbles only one chinpira tries her luck and is left writhing on the ground. She cleans it out of all but the clean stationary and the pens she likes (she don’t gotta know all’a the inner workin’s of the Kumai-gumi anymore, which is a relief), which disappear into her pockets. She’ll have to clean one of those, since the baka who thought she had a chance jumped her when she’d had her back turned and had put her knife away briefly. Fortunately, she’d seen the Bourne Identity film (‘course she had, a Western spy movie?) and the howl as the woman goes down, pen bulging just underneath the skin, had given her a nice glowy feelin’ all day (well, she’d felt queasy and gagged a little once she’d made it outside and it had time to sink in, but still, it felt good, baka had always been a pain).
It occurs to her after she’s hauled the thing a few blocks that she’s actually got a driver now who’s paid t’ figure out this shit, and even if she’s drawin’ on her irezumi an’ it’s easier ‘n it had been, she’s just wastin’ time haulin’ the thing around when she could be doin’ anythin’ else instead. It’s kinda hilarious watching Motome try to work out how the hell to fit the thing in the sleek classic Matriarch car they hand out, though she perks up a lot when Miyamoto mentions maybe they should sell it an’ get somethin’ they’ll both actually enjoy ridin’ in. She’d been resentful, so Miyamoto wasn’t sure what the Chairwoman had been thinking (turns out she’d been a former Hisamatsu gal who hadn’t ended up in the Kumai-gumi for whatever reason), but maybe all Motome needed was a chance to actually feel like she made a difference. Maybe they all did.
She barely installs the desk before she’s writing kinda freeform, just tryin’ t’ get thoughts t’ paper. Everything she knew, everything that was certain and known, was stripped away. She had to rebuild a firm foundation, even if that just meant repeating things she’d known already.
Things like they ain’t changed at all and I don’t deserve this and I’ve changed. Things like did they notice or do they just not care? She glares at it, rubbing her forehead. She don’t have a clue how t’ deal with th’ Chairwoman, or the Matriarch. And then, because honesty is the point but she hates it, this is gonna be awkward as all hell. I’m not gonna know how polite t’ be, ‘n it seems they might not even want it, but…the Chairwoman at least outranks me. So I gotta at least be a little polite. She’s not sure, still, how to deal with Akiyama…san. But here she’s at least practically giving herself permission t’ flop like a fish on land, so there’s that then.
Irezumi. It’s…easier ‘n more difficult t’ control ‘n ever. She’d only ever invoked once before the incident on purpose, after bein’ goaded by a shimai early on, ‘n the brain damage was enough the gal was unclear about the whole incident and Miyamoto had learned the valuable lesson of ‘don’t invoke ever’. Maybe that’s why she was so strong in the first place. She’d learned not t’ lean on her power too much. It’s real easy t’ draw on, now, easy t’ get lost. Or arrogant. Or kick a civilian’s shit in. She hadn’t told the Chairwoman, but she doesn’t fully remember everything that happened in that confrontation that had changed her fate, though some of ‘em—mini-Natsukawa, fer one—suspect. Probably. It’d been all one big haze of pain and glee. Probably could invoke easy, too, but I…ain’t gonna experiment. Even as she writes that, she’s pretty sure she’s lying. But she’ll have to find the right place t’ do so. The streets ain’t exactly the right place. She’ll think about it.
Sunao-kun’s gotta place. I ain’t gotta say goodbye, an’ both Akiyama ‘n Natsukawa’re tryin’. For the first time since she started this, she feels a little more settled. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel that was real, not after Kumai made it so clear she’d been lyin’, but the fact there’s some awkwardness on the other side, that they’re clearly feeling their way through it, rather than knowin’ the destination before they start—it’s enough to make it different, real. ‘N maybe it’s a little amusin’ they’re the ones stumblin’ in the dark fer once.
I’m Matriarch, but I’m gonna do things different ‘n Kumai. Gonna be m’own self. She’ll know her people’s strengths and weaknesses like the back of her hand, better, ‘cause she’ll see signs of traitors but she can bring the best outta them, make ‘em feel safe t’ be themselves, too (but not too safe, they better not get complacent ‘n kill a civvie or anythin’), so she can keep ‘em safe. They’re gonna be a Family, a real family.
An’ I’m gonna hunt down that snake in th’ grass an’ butcher ‘er ‘till she really is a ghost. She’s still got a few feelin’s ‘bout that, which she can deal with after Kumai begs fer death. In a way, she’s already grievin’, fer a friend, a leader, who it turns out never really existed.
‘n I’m gonna work on this seein’ thing. Depth perception’s a bitch. She’s already got way too many bruises from wanderin’ around a new HQ she ain’t used to yet. The yōkai’ll keep ‘er alive, but she needs t’ be able t’ rely on herself in fights again, too.
She doesn’t have many more answers than when she started, but her life’s started feeling solid again, and it’s up to her to act and find the answers.
She hears the whispers. They buzz around her incessantly, burrow under her skin. It was one thing when all she had was the irezumi, because of course the last thing the haiena would do is be silent, but it’s worse now, because now that she’d unleashed the yōkai for the second time, it’s not quite settled back down again. She can’t quite sit still and is a far cry from the obedient second-in-command she’d been up to that point, so she understands where the rumors about her going mad come from and why certain factions (who disliked Kumai) have started to call her the Laughing Hyena of Kumai and other factions (who still worshipped the backstabbin’ little traitor) have started to call her the Rabid Hyena of Kumai. She doesn’t, can’t, let the insecurity show, ‘cause it’s the equivalent of havin’ a bleedin’ wound in the midst of a tank of sharks. If she lets it known, the fact that she’s out of her depth will only get her torn to pieces, and she don’t even blame the sharks, ‘cause she knows it’s in their nature, even while they know what she is, now. Sort of.
The confidence—well, she’d say it was comin’ back, only now she’s payin’ attention she realizes it ain’t confidence when it’s relyin’ on th’ pretty words of a liar. She’s got an idea of what she doesn’t know and where she wants t’ go, even if she ain’t got a clue how t’get there.
She practically carves up one petty little sycophant that tries the whole ‘knife between the shoulder-blades’ trick in a narrow alley. She’s strong and manic on the outside, rictus fixed in place as she takes the tantō to every conceivable weak point, and yet the yakuza doesn’t break, spits in her face even. She hands the wreck over to Natsukawa-san, who’s practically a ninja, and sees ‘er smile fer the first time like a cat that got the cream. It’s only after, when she’s shakin’ ‘n only comes to when an old grampa with far too much heart and far too little self-preservation tentatively touches ‘er on th’ shoulder ‘n asks if she wants dinner, she realizes she’d been speakin’ in nothin’ but Kansai-ben. It’s nightmarish—she’d gone to a Western circus once ‘n didn’t sleep fer days—but she’s most settled when she’s buried in the Kansai-ben and devil-may-care attitude. She’s a glorified assassin, now, an’ if she’s meant t’ be a nightmare she’ll play the clown. Sure makes th’ feelin’ ‘a fallin’ disappear.
She knows it’s somethin’ that had Kumai rollin’ ‘er eyes at, sometimes, ‘n maybe that’s part ‘a it too. She throws up ‘n doesn’t know what to do with the comfortin’ touch. She sees the grief in the man’s eyes, carefully concealed, knows she’s just fillin’ in as a grandchild fer an afternoon, but that kinda charity freely given leaves ‘er uneasy. There’s no hidden motive, but she finds herself lookin’ fer one all the same. She hides in the manic, because if she doesn’t she’ll break. Probably she’s already broken, or in the process, and she’s falling but there’s nothing to hold onto, nothing but the promise of revenge and the fact she’s a part of such an exclusive little club, now. She marches down to a little hole-in-the-wall joint where no one knows who she is or even cares, and drinks until the puke has an excuse to worm its way from her gut, not makin’ ‘er look weak in front ‘a some old grandpa. Until the laughter mixes with the tears, and it’s fine because she’s drunk, not because she’s a pathetic weakling of a yakuza who can’t handle a little blood, a little violence, until it’s the alcohol that guides her movements and not just a ton of strings being pulled every which way.
The thing is, she should be free. The thing is, she’s Matriarch now, and Kumai, the little shit, isn’t giving her orders anymore. The thing is, she’s been given more latitude than most other captains, ‘cause her duty ‘a findin’ and killin’ some traitor’s what makes th’ clan look strong an’ she might as well add Ikemoto t’ the kill list, and she knows there are those like the wannabe oni Hattori that resent her for it. But it’s safe to say she’s lost. She’s aware, like she wasn’t before she made th’ list, but she shoulda known it wasn’t enough t’ banish her demons.
She finally starts settling into the new normal when the remaining Kumai-gumi set up a trap, a fake lead on the former Matriarch, and then attempt to murder her. One of her new subordinates, she forgets who, goes down, and she sees green. She hadn’t even consciously invoked, but she ‘hulks out’, all right. She feels in control, aside from the fact that she couldn’t stop if she’d tried, if she’d wanted to, and proceeds to rip through the entire warehouse of yakuza. Thinking back on it later, it occurs to her that with that rush…she might well be a little addicted. Helps the migraine has her crawlin’ in a hole an’ wishin’ to die, just to not invoke every chance she gets and end up killing herself because of it. Because she don’t forget the pain, later, an’ it helps make it a conscious choice if it’s worth it. Maybe just drawin’ on it’s a better idea, fer the future, but this ain’t the future, this’s the here ‘n now. She feels in control, that way, except she’s not, not fully, but she can go with the flow, at least. She doesn’t have to worry about what her place in the world is, anymore, or any such nonsense. All she’s gotta do is dance, and while sometimes she has nightmares later or throws up, in the meantime she is the nightmare. It turns out most of them survive, and they’re not put down, but she isn’t reprimanded, either, because that is who she is, now. She’s a target, but she ain’t a willing one by a long shot.
She goes out for some karaoke, gets just drunk enough t’ dull the pain, hits the arcade and beats a few high scores, swearin’ like a sailor th’ whole time, gets a few stuffed animals an’ gives ‘em t’ the baka kids who really should be gettin’ home with as stern a talkin’ to as she can manage, cracks a few skulls intimidating a poor beleaguered host, and finds herself in Hakone, bullying an onsen owner to close down shop just so she can have all of it to herself. She remembers flashing the knife at some point, just to make a point. Chows down on an extra large beef bowl. She catches a film or two, and then, when she’s back in Tokyo, ends up in a hostess club spendin’ way too much on the pretty gal assigned to ‘er table once she’d bullied ‘er way in and lovin’ every minute of it. When the bouncer comes and tries to talk to her, she flirts with her too, but makes it clear she doesn’t expect anything, just service to make her feel a little less lonely and a little more normal. Eventually the bouncer settles down when it comes out that the Kazami-gumi has been a little overzealous in getting protection money, so much so that they’re intimidating a few of the hostesses with their shenanigans. Really, they’d kinda gone downhill since Hattori-san took over. ‘N that’s a thought she can voice, now, ‘n not just swallow down. She can act on it, even. So Miyamoto gets in her second fight, and as she’s left panting and realizing she hadn’t slept and doesn’t know how long it’s been, it takes her a minute to realize she doesn’t have the feeling that she needs to vibrate out of her skin. It’s been a while. The need for frenetic action had gone down to a little hum, though maybe she could play a little and relax even further and maybe even fall asleep. She feels good, like she’s done something important, so helping out the neighborhood and introducing bats to rib cages are both good outlets in the future. She doesn’t even feel the need to throw up anymore, though her hands are shaking a little. Whether it’s from the adrenaline or the violence, she can’t really say.
So with that comes a revelation, that a little violence now and then is good for the soul. She gets a long leash, allowed latitudes not normal for other Matriarchs, and a reputation that’s good for her and the Clan. She ain’t exactly a hitman, aside from her pursuit of her former Matriarch, but when the Amaya-kai need to stake someone in the heart with fear, they call on the Laughing Hyena. Even better, her rep for being unpredictable means she ain’t gotta act the clown every single moment. With time she learns how to apply it like a finely honed surgeon’s scalpel, cutting when she’s gotta and holding back when she doesn’t. She can wear the mask, that mad look in her eye and the grin that’s manic, the mannerisms, the kansai-ben, whenever she so pleases. Except it’s not that easy, because she gets a little too comfortable, and in the end the line between whether she’s ridin’ the bull or the bull’s ridin’ her (yah, okay, so it’s an imperfect analogy) becomes more blurry. At least Sunao’s relatively untouched, sane, though sometimes he has to draw on their own brand of strength ‘cause as the overseas representative he can’t quite let himself be incompetent. Even the denizens of the Underworld respect it. Seems they know it’s partly an act, but they can’t tell where the actin’ ends and she genuinely begins, so she doesn’t bother changing a damn thing.
Comin’ t’ meetin’s late has its advantages, Miyamoto realizes, listening at the door.
“Miyamoto’s out of hand!” Hattori, whining again. Seriously, they could bottle the stuff, though it’d be pretty bitter an’ salty. Poor Matriarch can’t stop cryin’ inta her own damn glass. “Have you even been listening to the rumors?”
“Are you questioning how the Chairwoman runs the Clan?” Kanemoto, polite but biting. Suna grins, wide and a little over the top. What else is new?
“N-no, but.” If Hattori don’t want a war, she better stop tryin’ t’ start one. “She’s been ruining my businesses! They don’t even have anything to do with the former Matriarch.”
“Odd. My territory also borders hers, and I haven’t experienced anything of the kind. Are you sure it isn’t a misunderstanding?” Takemura’s tone is entirely polite, and Miyamoto resists the urge to giggle. She’s good.
“She’s been terrorizing civilians,” Akahoshi agrees. Sounds like she’s trying to be polite, for once. Marvelous. It’s always fascinating to see the exhibits outside their bars, trying to act like they ain’t grown up in a zoo.
“Good morning!” she sing-songs, pushing the doors apart like she’s at a saloon and strolling in like she owns the world. It’s nowhere near morning, but she’s not going to let that stop her. She’d slept in for once, and it had been amazing. She might finally be getting used to a nice bed. She only pauses for a bow to the Chairwoman before collapsing into her chair, stretching out in a show. She’d been uncertain about the leather suit before, but given the blushes and averted eyes now, it was well worth it. From the other side Akiyama winks. Maybe. She’s real quick about it.
Hattori’s only upset because she’d been expecting a polite yakuza show, a pushover to expand into some lost Kumai-gumi territory. Heard the rumors of how she’d been as Captain. That’s out the window from the fortieth floor. Akiyama an’ the Chairwoman seem happy about her speaking her mind even if she’s irreverent, but then, maybe that’s the whole point, because she doesn’t play games with politics and makes it real clear where her loyalties lie. She ain’t gonna be changin’ that now.
“Matriarch Miyamoto. Are you terrorizing civilians?” Chairwoman Natsukawa’s voice is—just slightly—amused, though as befits the Chairwoman not a speck of it shows on her face
Miyamoto raises an eyebrow. She don’t have to hold in the hyena’s grin, and just the sight is enough to make Hattori jump. Lovely. “Is that what we’re callin’ a scalin’ back on th’ bloody collections, now?”
“If you disagree with some of the territory, we can always compare maps,” Takemura continues her train of thought, and that really makes the troll squirm. Maybe she’s being a little too much of a firecracker, but then, it’s just. So much fun.
“Now, for the real agenda…” Natsukawa-sama’s voice is final, and Miyamoto settles down. She recognizes some authority. It’s just that Hattori’s an ass and equal or inferior, now.
Oddly, some of Kumai-gumi volunteer to follow her, particularly once the rumors start circulating about her new state of mind. She’s going to test their loyalty to hell and back, but they sound like they’re up to it. Then again, the Ikematsu-now-Kumai-now-Miyamoto always were absolute suckers for strength, and she doesn’t think she’s imagining anything ‘bout the starry-eyed looks they’re giving her. A few of ‘em had even been the ones to jump her before. Insane, but that’s the world they live in now, ain’t it? She absolutely refuses to take any of the Akiyama-gumi, even if it is framed as a favor from a friend. She knows they’re going to be spying on her for Akiyama-san. She’s going to get spies anyway but she’s not about to make it easy on her fellow matriarch.
It’s for the best Inoue-chan joined up. She would’ve been eaten alive if she’d stayed in the Kumai-gumi. It’s a surprise she’d managed to survive the Ikemoto-gumi in the first place, though she’d been a fresh errand girl at the time. Akahoshi’s probably the next matriarch and she’s known for chain-smoking and her belligerent attitude. They’d stopped bein’ quite the pains, if only because they’re too busy infighting trying to be the next one to the crown.
Seems she inspires a few punks to join up, too, which is always nice, not having to rely on potentially treacherous hand-me-downs.
When Kabuto-kun comes in a panic and looks fixed to interrupt Suna in the middle of the second-to-last dungeon in Megami Tensei, she’s very much tempted to make the idiot eat her own damn makeup, no matter how good the goth looks on her. “Y’better have a damn good reason t’ be here,” she snarls as she dies, but the ire dies just slightly as she takes in the panic on her subordinate’s face. They’re smarter than this; she’d made sure of that if she had to beat that outta them. And sure, the goth yakuza might be the healer, not a fighter, but she wouldn’t be that worried, unless somethin’ really was seriously wrong.
“An oni…” she pants, and that instantly gets Miyamoto to sit up and listen.
“Yōkai or Alliance?” she responds, grabbing her jacket from the nearby racing machine (nobody had dared to try to move it, despite a line) and striding out without a second thought. One idiot doesn’t bother to move out of the way in time and gets shoved to the side, but Miyamoto doesn’t slow her pace.
“Yōkai, HQ…” Kabuto-kun pants, trying valiantly to keep up, and Miyamoto snarls in response.
“An’ whose bright idea was it t’have the healer go fer help? Y’ain’t got any brains in that head’a yers?” If there weren’t more pressing matters, she’d smack her around a little, but if a real oni’s wreckin’ shop, she has the unfortunate feeling she’s gonna need the lady’s services at the end of the night.
“Aneki Saeki, Ofukuro,” Kabuto-kun responds, trying valiantly to keep up while shrinking in on herself.
Well, she ain’t gonna argue with that one. Any proper shimai ain’t ‘bout t’ say no t’ her aneki, an’ Saeki-kun’s got a good head on her shoulders.
And then she sees two of her newest recruits, one barely seventeen, laying prone on the road, and immediately unsheathes her blade, green swirling up from inside. “Y’know yer duties. Get to it,” she orders, breaking into a run and letting her haiena run free.
“Ya knew!” Miyamoto snarls, the door slamming behind her and shaking slightly. She throws her knife and it buries itself, quivering, in the wood of the chair next to Chairwoman Natsukawa’s head. As it leaves her hand it occurs to her that she’d missed on purpose, though she’s got no clue why.
Wakabayashi rises, hand going to the sword at her side, but the Chairwoman just holds up her hand and grabs the knife, examining it closely. Miyamoto shivers, anger suddenly deflating and leaving her shaking and weak in its wake. It almost feels like she can feel Natsukawa’s touch, as if the blade is an extension of her. Wakabayashi sits slowly, though her hand never moves off the katana, even if it does remain sheathed. The tantō is beautiful, with flowers and a koi swimming up the blade (swimming through the blood of enemies).
She has to keep going, though. (Keep swimming) or she’ll never resurface. She’ll drown. “Ya knew ‘bout the Oni.”
“Of course I knew, generally.” Natsukawa-sama answers and strokes the knife. Miyamoto chokes, and Natsukawa stops playing with the tantō, merely holding it reassuringly. “Did it never occur to you to wonder why the Osato-kai have the nickname ‘the Oni Alliance’?”
“I—” she stammers, but she’s entirely off-guard. This—all ‘a this—was somehow predictable. Her attempting to stab her own Chairwoman when she’d been doin’ nothin’ but showin’ her loyalty was somehow predictable.
And—hang on, is that trail of blood from her, or the bloody hacked oni corpse she’d dragged into the taxi and all the way to the front courtyard? The fight’s a little blurry.
The Chairwoman settles back. “You’re a grown Matriarch. I’ve got to trust you can handle things on your own. I can’t kiss your boo-boo every time you get a scrape.”
When put that way, it sounds absolutely ridiculous. But now that her head is a little clearer, she’s able to focus on what really matters. “Why would the Osato-kai want to destroy my digs?”
“They were looking for that tantō,” a new voice, Akiyama-san, answers, gracefully strolling into the room and taking the knife from the Chairwoman’s hands. Miyamoto gasps and bites her lip, feeling a little humiliated at this point.
“I was right. It’s a cursed tantō.” She pats the dagger, and that at least doesn’t feel uncomfortable. “I don’t think Kumai knew what she was doing when she stabbed you, but it looks like it’s latched onto you as its owner. Your eye was blood and a sacrifice, and now you’re linked. I think you’ve noticed just now, but then, you’ve probably only had other people interact with it when you’re already fighting.”
“Cursed?” Miyamoto wheezes, scrambling away from it like it’s going to bite her. Her missing eye is throbbing something fierce. She’d been warned about phantom eye syndrome by the doc, but now she can’t even be sure it ain’t magic and not just her nerves goin’ nuts.
“It was influencing you, yes, but you were stronger than it. You missed on purpose, after all.” That, too, had been a test, and she resists the urge to growl. “I’ll do a few spells on you and it, but it’s similar to an irezumi yōkai. It marks you and shapes your destiny, and you do so in return, but in the end it’s the gokudō in control, and you need to remember that.” Or, rather, every gokudō needs to keep in control, stopping themselves from causin’ a ruckus and hurting the organization’s reputation among the civilians or their bosses, and keeping that in mind is the way to keep their power.
“I’m not sure if Kumai’s working with them or if they knew about it from other sources, but imouto-san’s checking it out,” the Chairwoman adds.
“Normally that would be my job, but we’re both in the business of secrets, and I’m the expert on the supernatural, so you get me instead.” Akiyama-san smiles, and Miyamoto hesitantly smiles in return.
Well, all’a that kinda explains everything, don’t it? Wraps it up in a pretty little bow, too, like she’s some kinda simperin’ princess, too. She’d thought it was just the invocation for the second time, but nah, that ain’t it at all. It’s an entirely different experience with both the yōkai and the tantō. When she’d just been between a lieutenant and an errand girl, it was probably for the best that she just had the yōkai. It was easy enough to tuck her tail in and follow orders like a good little girl, and the best way to stay in control. Now, now it ain’t near that kinda cakewalk. See, she’d just figured it was a matter ‘a violence just bein’ good, like a dessert, but nah, why the hell would it be that easy for her? It takes her a few weeks to learn that unless she wants to have an out of control fit in the middle of a routine collections mission like she’d been tryin’ to stop in the first place (Abe’s in the hospital, which no one minds except without his izakaya in operation the local yōkai and akuma aren’t drunk and lazing around and feel free to cause trouble), she’d better let it out in controlled outbursts, like feedin’ a pet. She remembers the fun she’d had, the one night she’d begun to embrace all of this whimsy, and takes that further. She tries a unique approach, and wouldn’t you know it, host clubs and the like are a lot more likely to pay their protection money if you actually stop bad things from happening to their employees. She gets great satisfaction from smashing their faces in with anything she can find in the vicinity, if she doesn’t feel like dragging around her bat or wasting the knife on ‘em. She steps in for others on the streets, and between the two soon enough she’s got enough idiots and local gangs seeking her out for battle that she’s got enough of an outlet, like putting a vicious dog on a leash only long enough to point out the target. It’s enough to feed the beast. Might be making it stronger, in the end, but she’s getting stronger, too, and it makes the two settle down.
It’s at the batting center where she’s taking a few swings to wind down, practice her sight, that a local gang crowd into the batting cage around her, jeering. “Look, girlie, I think with the eye your baseball days are over.” She’s improving, but it’s not like she’s gonna protest that to this girl who looks maybe high school age. Instead, she eyes them, reorganizes her day to include “stress relief via fight” instead of “stress relief via baseball”, and states casually out loud, “Maybe I can practice with your heads.” They’re brave, if stupid, to approach her with a weapon in her hand.
They’re just dumb punk kids, so she tries not to break ‘em too bad. Bruise ‘em, sure, but no broken ribs. She’s kinda proud, but she’s been learning some control.
It’s a shock, but not that big of a one, when the group of teenagers, bruised and bandaged, approach her in her newly fixed HQ and beg to be part of her family. They’re just predators looking for a top dog. Miyamoto pauses, narrows her eyes, and agrees, but only if they agree to help the batting center owner rebuild her place. She wants to keep being invited, and a couple warm-up collection type assignments with such a small family means that she doesn’t have the time to do it on their own. They look at each other, a bit ashamed, nod, and walk away. (The phone call expressing profuse thanks does put a smile on her face after yet another business refuses to take her seriously and she has to take matters into her own hands, though.)
Miyamoto’s working on acting on her impulses when she has them, just to be unpredictable. Honestly, maybe she’s rejecting being a respectful, ‘honest’ gokudou so bad because that’s the part she’d played for her treacherous matriarch, and, well. If she was gonna be a traitor, maybe she don’t have to play the loyal bitch anymore.
She sees more than a few shuffles and lowered voices, but then, her rowdy bunch of girls shapes up when they need to. She’s proud of her little club of punks. An’ more’n a few of ‘em are scared’a Akiyama, but then, makes sense, ‘cause Miyamoto’s not the only one that changed since they were littler brats than they are now. Akiyama used to be the respectful one. She always figured Yoko would end up in business or somethin’, yet here she is, yakuza like the rest of ‘em, an’ if anything crueler than them all. Mebbe a bit unpredictable, too, an’ maybe that’s somethin’ they have in common, now.
Suna’s babblin’ like Yoko used to, only she can’t quite seem to stop, an’ Yoko don’t seem inclined ta stop ‘er. She’ll raise an eyebrow at the bonding stuff, like Game Nights and Movie Nights, but doesn’t actually comment, which is no fun. It’s like she’s emotin’ to a brick wall or somethin’. It’s not until she mentions the charity work that the Matriarch actually speaks up.
“You make them do what?”
“That trash campaign the cabs did, few months back? Got me thinkin’. It’s good fer discipline, gettin’ the girls ta actually see civvies as people. An’ suddenly there’s a gapin’ hole where all the whinin’ used ta be.” She puffs out her chest in pride. There’s a reason she’s actually being seen as the unofficial Amaya-kai PR lady, never mind the ‘wild and crazy’ version. That, an’ her gals are expected ta clean up their own messes, within reason. She does have a bit of an knack for this.
