Uncomfortable Conversations
Mar. 20th, 2022 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Yakuza, follow-up to Throwing a Pity Party
Summary: Haruka's holding Majima accountable.
Word Count: 1319
Rating: Teen (more swearing, more thoughts of violence, Majima is his own warning)
pre-Majima/Kiryu
Majima rubs his remaining eye. Kiryu’s little lady remains stubbornly in place. Could be a fever dream, he’s fairly certain he forgot to eat this morning, he decides, assumin’ it’s Monday—naw, wait, he’d had that meeting on Monday, probably yesterday, which means today is probably Tuesday, because he’s got somethin’ on his calendar Wednesday and even if he don’t remember Nishida does. Sides, he remembers somethin’ about Kiryu-chan sendin’ her back to the orphanage to be safe for as long as he’s still dealing with this shit from the Omi.
He starts to turn away. The insistent, strong tug on his sleeve says otherwise. Sure, she might still be a hallucination, but she ain’t one of the stars in his usual show, specially the ones that touch him. “Don’t ignore me,” she demands.
Might as well humor her, brain bug or not. “Yer a long way from home,” he states conversationally. “An’ a construction site ain’t exactly the sorta place a young lady should be, let alone down here.”
She narrows her eyes at him, until even he half feels like he’s questioning his own logic. “I wore a helmet,” she says simply, and that’s reasoning right outta Kiryu’s book. It’s a child’s helmet, though it looks like it’s meant for use around bikes and not heavy power equipment. “And I’m really good at gambling.”
For a moment they just stare at each other. Goro can’t quite decide if this surreal little detail means this is definitely a hallucination, or if it’s so ridiculous it can only be reality. “Y’can’t take care of yerself if they wanna work out their humiliation on ya,” is what he settles on. It’s a good enough reminder without being too graphic.
“Oh,” is her response. It pretty much says it all anyway. Then she shakes her head, like she’s catching cobwebs just like him, and points her finger menacingly at him. It’s actually kinda hilarious that he actually does feel vaguely intimidated, because Majima doesn’t do intimidation. (Never mind the Number One Gal at a tiny yet homey little cabaret club that probably don’t even exist anymore.) “Stop trying to distract me. I forgave you…” shit, she’s already startin’ to talk like him. If Kiryu-chan ain’t the father—and the timing’s just wrong for that, Majima ain’t forgotten the dragon’s not-so-little stint in the clink—it’s still ridiculous how much she’s inherited from him already. “…And then you went and made him hurt again.”
Majima frowns. Okay, sure, they’d gone and had their colosseum fight, but sadly he wasn’t even on the top five guys Kiryu-chan had fought recently in terms of frequency. He’d hope to make an honorable mention for quality, but—there his brain goes, doing dumb shit again. “I didn’t even stab him this time. Yer uncle’s strong, kid.” And fast, fast enough to get just out of reach, leavin’ poor ol’ Goro behind, just like—
Haruka frowns, too. Frowns harder than him, which is fair. With a dad like Kiryu-chan, adoptive or not, she has to have been practicing. “I didn’t mean a physical wound. You made his heart hurt.”
W-wait, what? Shit. The fear and panic dawns on him just like those suckers in zombie movies. And just like them, he’s gonna die too, ‘cause of all the people he’d want to know about that, she’s last on the list. Probably right next to her dad. “I’m gonna stab Nishida, fer real, this time.” Least that little backstabbin’ traitor can do is die alongside him.
Her eyes flash at the mention of the name. “Oh, so if you’re not reasonable I should talk to Nishida-san. Got it.”
He groans, but it’s pretty clear that she wasn’t lying about the gambling if she even exists. That’s some poker talent, there.
He collapses theatrically into a chair, letting out a loud sigh. “Wish I could choose anythin’ else, kid, but my hands’re tied.” He continues under his breath, trying to make sure she doesn’t hear. “Story of my damn life.”
The way she narrows her eyes at him, he’s not entirely sure she didn’t hear him. “Are you being blackmailed?” she asks finally, thoughtful.
He can see how she would get there. Fancy and impressive as this office is, it’s unfortunate there’s no second chair for the little lady. Or—wait.
‘bring a chair to the office now’ he texts to Nishida.
He laces together his fingers. He could confess everything now, like some screwed up church visit. But ain’t that too much to dump on a little kid?
“Ya sure ya wanna know? Some shit ya can’t unknow.” And she knows exactly what that means, unlike most people twice her age, unfortunately.
She crosses her arms, thinking, and nods.
“Awright, but you gotta pinky swear it ain’t gonna leave this room. Man’s gotta keep some pride.” She rolls her eyes, but goes along with it anyway, as they treat the tiny handshake as solemnly as a yakuza oath.
“…Short story, yer dad deserves commitment. Not just another person in his life that’s gonna drop dead.” He sighs again. “Be easy enough ta claim I ain’t the type, with a failed marriage under my belt an’ everything, but that ain’t it. I ain’t sick, but I’m gonna die sooner or later.”
“…Are you letting them kill you rather than Uncle Kaz?” she wonders out loud, and, well—it ain’t quite right, but…
“Keep makin’ mistakes an’ hurtin’ people,” he explains.
She leans in, staring into his eyes suspiciously, which is then of course when Nishida walks in with the chair. He’s used to all sorts of things, but even then does a little bit of a stutter-step when he sees what’s going on.
“Get the little lady her order,” he barks, mostly for a reprieve as his nervous lieutenant takes a burger order. She briefly considers, then, by the list she gives, has decided that a buncha orphans are eating on his dime tonight, too. He waves Nishida on. It’s fair enough.
“Dying only makes more people hurt. It doesn’t solve anything,” she insists, when Nishida’s out of the room. He appreciates her waiting, but doesn’t think she’s given up on blackmail as a backup plan.
“There’s two people in this world I’d do anything they asked.” He could just come out and say it, let her know about Saejima, but the last thing in the world he wants is for Kiryu-chan to try to protect him against Saejima, because one or both would probably end up dead. “If I’d met Kiryu-chan first, maybe things would’ve been different.”
She sits, but she’s still staring at him, thoughtful. Gaze piercing. “So…if this other person doesn’t ask for you to die, you won’t?” He’s pretty sure Haruka-chan would merely unnerve his sworn brother, but if she managed to find and team up with Yasuko—
Well, the two of them could send the whole of the Tojo and Omi running, somehow.
“We promised,” he warns her. Shit like that’s binding. It ain’t the first time recently he’s wished Saejima would have just hurried up and done the job, before anyone, like Kiryu-chan, would’ve gone and gotten too attached.
She beams, but if he ain’t mistaken, that’s a definite battle aura behind her eyes. “I’m really good at gambling,” she reminds him, before she takes out one of those handheld gaming consoles—probably secondhand, given how scuffed it is—and proceeds to ignore him entirely, swinging her feet. Waiting on food, probably, and it ain’t been since Shimano he’s felt so thoroughly dismissed. Still, there’s a glimmer of hope, and he hasn’t tasted that a bit for a good, long time. (It turns out that one of the burgers and fries is for him. Which tells him, much as it hurts, she’s had experience with ex-yakuza stubbornly refusing to eat, and has as much of a motivation to fix things as her father.)
Yakuza, follow-up to Throwing a Pity Party
Summary: Haruka's holding Majima accountable.
Word Count: 1319
Rating: Teen (more swearing, more thoughts of violence, Majima is his own warning)
pre-Majima/Kiryu
Majima rubs his remaining eye. Kiryu’s little lady remains stubbornly in place. Could be a fever dream, he’s fairly certain he forgot to eat this morning, he decides, assumin’ it’s Monday—naw, wait, he’d had that meeting on Monday, probably yesterday, which means today is probably Tuesday, because he’s got somethin’ on his calendar Wednesday and even if he don’t remember Nishida does. Sides, he remembers somethin’ about Kiryu-chan sendin’ her back to the orphanage to be safe for as long as he’s still dealing with this shit from the Omi.
He starts to turn away. The insistent, strong tug on his sleeve says otherwise. Sure, she might still be a hallucination, but she ain’t one of the stars in his usual show, specially the ones that touch him. “Don’t ignore me,” she demands.
Might as well humor her, brain bug or not. “Yer a long way from home,” he states conversationally. “An’ a construction site ain’t exactly the sorta place a young lady should be, let alone down here.”
She narrows her eyes at him, until even he half feels like he’s questioning his own logic. “I wore a helmet,” she says simply, and that’s reasoning right outta Kiryu’s book. It’s a child’s helmet, though it looks like it’s meant for use around bikes and not heavy power equipment. “And I’m really good at gambling.”
For a moment they just stare at each other. Goro can’t quite decide if this surreal little detail means this is definitely a hallucination, or if it’s so ridiculous it can only be reality. “Y’can’t take care of yerself if they wanna work out their humiliation on ya,” is what he settles on. It’s a good enough reminder without being too graphic.
“Oh,” is her response. It pretty much says it all anyway. Then she shakes her head, like she’s catching cobwebs just like him, and points her finger menacingly at him. It’s actually kinda hilarious that he actually does feel vaguely intimidated, because Majima doesn’t do intimidation. (Never mind the Number One Gal at a tiny yet homey little cabaret club that probably don’t even exist anymore.) “Stop trying to distract me. I forgave you…” shit, she’s already startin’ to talk like him. If Kiryu-chan ain’t the father—and the timing’s just wrong for that, Majima ain’t forgotten the dragon’s not-so-little stint in the clink—it’s still ridiculous how much she’s inherited from him already. “…And then you went and made him hurt again.”
Majima frowns. Okay, sure, they’d gone and had their colosseum fight, but sadly he wasn’t even on the top five guys Kiryu-chan had fought recently in terms of frequency. He’d hope to make an honorable mention for quality, but—there his brain goes, doing dumb shit again. “I didn’t even stab him this time. Yer uncle’s strong, kid.” And fast, fast enough to get just out of reach, leavin’ poor ol’ Goro behind, just like—
Haruka frowns, too. Frowns harder than him, which is fair. With a dad like Kiryu-chan, adoptive or not, she has to have been practicing. “I didn’t mean a physical wound. You made his heart hurt.”
W-wait, what? Shit. The fear and panic dawns on him just like those suckers in zombie movies. And just like them, he’s gonna die too, ‘cause of all the people he’d want to know about that, she’s last on the list. Probably right next to her dad. “I’m gonna stab Nishida, fer real, this time.” Least that little backstabbin’ traitor can do is die alongside him.
Her eyes flash at the mention of the name. “Oh, so if you’re not reasonable I should talk to Nishida-san. Got it.”
He groans, but it’s pretty clear that she wasn’t lying about the gambling if she even exists. That’s some poker talent, there.
He collapses theatrically into a chair, letting out a loud sigh. “Wish I could choose anythin’ else, kid, but my hands’re tied.” He continues under his breath, trying to make sure she doesn’t hear. “Story of my damn life.”
The way she narrows her eyes at him, he’s not entirely sure she didn’t hear him. “Are you being blackmailed?” she asks finally, thoughtful.
He can see how she would get there. Fancy and impressive as this office is, it’s unfortunate there’s no second chair for the little lady. Or—wait.
‘bring a chair to the office now’ he texts to Nishida.
He laces together his fingers. He could confess everything now, like some screwed up church visit. But ain’t that too much to dump on a little kid?
“Ya sure ya wanna know? Some shit ya can’t unknow.” And she knows exactly what that means, unlike most people twice her age, unfortunately.
She crosses her arms, thinking, and nods.
“Awright, but you gotta pinky swear it ain’t gonna leave this room. Man’s gotta keep some pride.” She rolls her eyes, but goes along with it anyway, as they treat the tiny handshake as solemnly as a yakuza oath.
“…Short story, yer dad deserves commitment. Not just another person in his life that’s gonna drop dead.” He sighs again. “Be easy enough ta claim I ain’t the type, with a failed marriage under my belt an’ everything, but that ain’t it. I ain’t sick, but I’m gonna die sooner or later.”
“…Are you letting them kill you rather than Uncle Kaz?” she wonders out loud, and, well—it ain’t quite right, but…
“Keep makin’ mistakes an’ hurtin’ people,” he explains.
She leans in, staring into his eyes suspiciously, which is then of course when Nishida walks in with the chair. He’s used to all sorts of things, but even then does a little bit of a stutter-step when he sees what’s going on.
“Get the little lady her order,” he barks, mostly for a reprieve as his nervous lieutenant takes a burger order. She briefly considers, then, by the list she gives, has decided that a buncha orphans are eating on his dime tonight, too. He waves Nishida on. It’s fair enough.
“Dying only makes more people hurt. It doesn’t solve anything,” she insists, when Nishida’s out of the room. He appreciates her waiting, but doesn’t think she’s given up on blackmail as a backup plan.
“There’s two people in this world I’d do anything they asked.” He could just come out and say it, let her know about Saejima, but the last thing in the world he wants is for Kiryu-chan to try to protect him against Saejima, because one or both would probably end up dead. “If I’d met Kiryu-chan first, maybe things would’ve been different.”
She sits, but she’s still staring at him, thoughtful. Gaze piercing. “So…if this other person doesn’t ask for you to die, you won’t?” He’s pretty sure Haruka-chan would merely unnerve his sworn brother, but if she managed to find and team up with Yasuko—
Well, the two of them could send the whole of the Tojo and Omi running, somehow.
“We promised,” he warns her. Shit like that’s binding. It ain’t the first time recently he’s wished Saejima would have just hurried up and done the job, before anyone, like Kiryu-chan, would’ve gone and gotten too attached.
She beams, but if he ain’t mistaken, that’s a definite battle aura behind her eyes. “I’m really good at gambling,” she reminds him, before she takes out one of those handheld gaming consoles—probably secondhand, given how scuffed it is—and proceeds to ignore him entirely, swinging her feet. Waiting on food, probably, and it ain’t been since Shimano he’s felt so thoroughly dismissed. Still, there’s a glimmer of hope, and he hasn’t tasted that a bit for a good, long time. (It turns out that one of the burgers and fries is for him. Which tells him, much as it hurts, she’s had experience with ex-yakuza stubbornly refusing to eat, and has as much of a motivation to fix things as her father.)
