The walls were extremely dirty in their father's room.
But the walls weren't the dirtiest part, the smell was. Sweat–piles of sweat and waves of urine filled the small space within the yellow walls. "Holy hell, it smells so bad…" Thought Takumi, moving his wrist up to his nose to block out the disgusting, horrifying scent. Kage moved ahead of him, blocking his view of his father. He didn't mind though, he wanted as much time as possible before he would have to speak to him–he had decided that now. But his decision didn't last for long. It was the shortest lasting decision he had ever made–for when he saw him. That man who somehow made him feel. The man who he felt he had known his entire life was lying before him at that moment, his head turned, his eyes dead. His face was pale, almost laughably pale. It was genuinely white. The lips were dry and creased, his mouth open faintly, trying to say something–anything, but failing. Saliva ran from the edges of it. His eyes were open? No, they were closed. Takumi couldn't tell. Kage walked to the corner of the room, his hands behind his back, and lifted two arm chairs, one in each hand. He dropped them down, a loud vibrating thud came. It awoke their father, and Takumi too. His feet started to move, and still staring at his father, mouth opened, he sat down on one of the armchairs, mere inches away from the old man. Kage took a seat too, and crossed his legs. He raised an eyebrow and tapped Takumi on the shoulder.
"Not to intrude," He whispered, "but is it okay if I just go out here for a second? I was planning on taking the bins out."
Takumi turned his head slowly and stared at Kage for a moment, his eyes dumb.
"Ye-Yes. By all means brother, go ahead…"
Kage nodded and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut. The dense air compressed even tighter against Takumi now. He coughed hoarsely and cleared his throat. His heart had completely stopped. His nose was bright red and cold. Sweat ran from his palms, like always. There was never a time when it didn't. Was the sweat coming down more right now, he didn't know. He didn't pay that much attention. His father did not speak. Takumi kept his head down, fiddling with his fingers, his mind in someplace else. Fukuoka. That's where he was, where he wanted to be. Fukuoka. Maybe with his brother, his cousins and his father. Maybe they were all lying on lounging chairs on the front deck, with his mother. She was happy with father, they were happy together. Takumi would get to know his cousins better, they would be talking about football, and his brother would be getting a beer from the kitchen. The sun would relax Takumi, his face would be balanced in the air. His heart, his pounding heart in the streets of Tokyo would become a still, slow, soothing creature that spoke its gentle rhythm only when needed. It would be fine. It would be just great. But it wasn't true. His family was never known. They were Yakuza.
Takumi's body began to vibrate. Anger. It came back like a strike of lightning, the same strike as outside. His throat tickled. The smell of urine. A rough cough again, hard and long.
"Stop it! Have some manners."
Takumi fell back into his armchair just as soon as his cough trailed off. His old eyes stared into him. Takumi's chest rose up to his chin and then down to his knees.
"Father!" He cried out, not realising he had just roared loud enough for everyone close to cause everyone near him to cover their ears. His father winced when he screamed, and he too coughed. But his cough was more stale, more short lived and less of life. It sounded like it hurt a lot more than Takumi's, and it did. That cough came from sickness, not from the smell. But what particular sickness? Was it his body failing him, or was it the sight of his youngest son being a frail powerless thing, skinny and scared of the slightest movement.
"Father…" Takumi muttered again, much more silent now. He leaned inwards and placed his cupped hands on his fathers chest lightly.
"Father I–I'm so sorry…For everything."
The father snarled.
"Takumi." He snapped back coldly.
"You…You came…You followed the instructions?"
Takumi was confused for a moment. What instructions? Then it hit him like a train. Of course. The fateful instructions. The ones he had almost gone insane from, yet they were just blubber from a dead man. He lied.
"Of-Of course, father."
"Uh-Uh-Uh-Uh what?" His father imitated him. He chuckled. Takumi almost felt as if everything was a dream right then and there, it was so utterly stupid.
"What?" He burst out, no longer thinking.
"Just a joke boy…" His father moved to the ash tray on the table next to the bed. "Just a joke…"
Takumi stared wildly as his father took a cigarette and pulled a lighter out of his pocket.
"Maybe you shouldn't do that." Takumi coughed. His father dropped the lighter. He flung the cigarette back on the ash tray and stared wildly at Takumi.
"Hello, son." The father finally said, his eyes calming and moving down to the ground. Takumi sat up in the chair. What could he say now? What would he say now? He needed Kage. How do you begin a conversation with a man you've never seen, a man who is a stranger, yet put in front of you to talk like you have known them your whole life. There was no difference in going to a hospital and talking to a random patient on their death bed. Takumi scratched his cheeks violently. He felt warmer and warmer every moment, as if he was a bomb that would explode eventually. "The sun isn't real." Takumi thought. "The beer in Kage's hand isn't real. Fukuoka isn't real. This smell is real. The air in this room is real. This dying, mocking man is real. I have to speak."
"I…Why did you leave?" Takumi blurted out. His father didn't react. Only he glanced up at Takumi and then hardened his eyes, staring without emotion.
"Good question…It takes a lot of explaining Takumi."
Takumi squeezed his fist. "Explaining. A lot of things need to be explained, old man. You selfish bastard, How dare you say that. How dare he say my name, so normally, like he knows me…"
"Explain it then father. Speak to me. For once." Takumi said.
The father laughed. He moved up slowly on the bed until he was sitting upwards. His head wobbled as he moved. His hand reached out. Shaking violently, his skin was creased like a worn out book on the spine. His hand gripped onto Takumi's shoulder.
"I love you, my son."
He grunted, moving slowly to wrap his hands around Takumi in a hug. Takumi was as solid as a rock in the armchair. His eyelids fluttered, the way a child does when pretending to be asleep. But Takumi's eyes were wide open. His entire body turned into jelly. His arms laid by his side. Until they moved. He hugged his father. The wish he had had for years was fulfilled, but it didn't feel of his own will. Something else made him hug this man. Someone else. His father retracted from the hug. They hugged for no more than ten seconds. But Takumi felt that it took half of his life for his father to move away. A deep sigh, maybe of relief, (Takumi didn't know) -escaped. His father sighed, too, yet it was more on a high note and with joy, despite his crumbling voice.
"I'm so sorry son…I know, it isn't right to leave you. I never even got to hold you!"
Takumi looked down. His eyebrows narrowed. As still as he was, inside every cord of his muscle was pulled taut to snapping.
"Sorry? What right does he have to just say sorry! I should have never come to Tokyo…You can die for all I care, father, you bastard. Bastard. BASTARD!"
Kage walked into the room. Takumi lifted his head up in one breath and then opened his mouth faintly, trying to speak but saying nothing.
"Are you both okay?" Kage asked sincerely, taking a seat on the armchair beside Takumi. Takumi rubbed his neck, then slammed his palm down on the leather seating lightly.
"Yes...Sorry, no-yes, we are fine. I'm just…anxious to see him after so long…" He turned his head to his father. "Anxious…" He trailed off. Kage put a hand on his brother's lap.
"Of course. That was expected. No doubt it was awkward, eh?" Kage said, chuckling as Takumi forced a smile. "What the hell is funny about that?" Thought Takumi. His father's mouth had turned cold again. He shook his head disapprovingly at Kage.
"No joke." He snapped.
"Yes, sorry, so sorry oyabun…" Kage shut his eyes and then opened them again. You could almost get sick with the tension.
"Father, do you want to tell Takumi your story?" Kage said, talking to his father like he was a puppy. "The reason you left us?" No reply. Kage looked worryingly at Takumi.
"Yes. I will say…" He sat up. The cigarette came out of the ash tray. With his left hand he took the lighter and it came to life. He took a puff.
"Takumi…" He began, looking up at the roof, smoking carelessly, "It's funny…Have you even mentioned that we are in the 'Yakuza' to your brother, Kage?" Kage nodded.
"Yes, of course father."
"Have you really? Have you gone into detail about the things we do, the things we did?... How about that one time you shot that man clean in the head with your revolver…Who was he…"
"Hiroshi. Hiroshi Tanaka." Kage said quickly.
"Ah, yes!" Their father replied, widening his mouth with a smile, "Hiroshi…That was the man you killed. And why did you kill him again, Kage?"
"Because he didn't finish our deal in the time we gave him."
Kage replied like he was reciting a poem for his teacher. Takumi didn't say a word. Their father nodded smugly at Kage, seemingly proud.
"Correct. Takumi, are you surprised by that fact? That your older brother shot a man in cold blood?"
Takumi had fallen into a daydream. He was thinking about the old man on the bench earlier in the day, the one who had said he was happy his brother died. "Why do I agree with what he said? I guess I hate Kage…No I don't…But why do I still agree–"
"Takumi!" The father slapped Takumi on the knee, making him shake like he had just touched a high voltage gate and was getting electrocuted.
"How dare you doze off while your father is talking to you!" Said the father. Takumi's mouth was wide open.
"I am so sorry, father…I must be tired. Could you say it again–"
"Your brother was saying," The father went on, "-That he had killed a man. Hiroshi Tanaka. I was saying that I assumed he hadn't told you that much about what we do…" He coughed. Takumi's lips tightened.
"What do you have to say about our business, Takumi?" The father said, with a witty grin. Takumi had barely even taken in the question. His mind was still focused on the fact that he had dazed off in the middle of a conversation with his family he had not seen in ten years. "You are just an absolute fool, Takumi…" Takumi thought, "How embarrassing…You don't belong in this family…"
Something inside of him replied to his father, a subconscious being.
"I don't have a problem with your…Your business."
The father laughed.
"You don't have a problem, you say!" He glanced at Kage, who was smirking now too. "Not a problem! Great! Great–" He coughed again. That took Takumi out of his chamber of thoughts. The father kept coughing. He leaned over to the ash tray and put out the cigarette, one hand covering his mouth. The cough didn't stop. It sounded horrible, like a dying horse. After an unimaginably long five seconds of stillness in the room apart from the cough, Kage leaned over and put a hand on his fathers back.
"Are you ok oyabun?"
"I'm fine, boy!" The father shouted back at Kage. "I'm fine…" Another cough. Takumi thought. "This man…This man is so weak…Why should I be scared of him? Why, why at all? What could he do to me? He will be dead soon anyway…Still, what could he do to me if he got mad? That's not the question, Takumi. It's what Kage would do…Kage…He killed a man…At least that's what my 'father' said…Is that a lie? Is it really that far-fetched to assume that my brother, who is in the Yakuza, has killed a man before? No. He might have."
"Now." The father put a hand on Takumi's lap. "We have established that we are in a business that is generally frowned upon. It isn't particularly normal to kill…Yet men in the Yakuza are, quite frankly, respected…" Silence. "...respected," he repeated, as if testing whether the word would hold. His hand stayed where it was, on Takumi's lap, turning white. He looked unsure of himself. "That's the part people choke on boy, they think respect must mean approval. But deep down, you know–I know, Kage knows, your cousins know…That respect only means recognition. Respect is a way that people believe will endure. Sort of like a storm. A disease. A man who will not move when asked. It has nothing to do with virtue. It has to do with certainty." As Takumi's father said the last word, his hand somehow squeezed harder on his son's lap. Takumi felt his heart beat in his leg. Then the rush of blood through his skin. "Get your dirty hands off of me old man." But of course he didn't say that out loud. His father's eyebrows narrowed. The hand let go.
"We were certain for a long time, Takumi." His father said. He glanced down at his hands. "It isn't normal to kill. Come on son, you know that. You believe that. You're right. It isn't. But neither is war, or famine, or the way men learn to look past each other on the street. Normal is a word used by those who can afford it." He paused. "When a system runs long enough even violence begins to look like labor. It simply is just something done, finished, accounted for." His fingers twitched once. "I didn't enjoy it," he muttered to himself. His voice rose. "If you think that, that I enjoyed it, you have misunderstood me already. What I felt instead was responsibility. A dull one. Like carrying something heavy for so many years that you forget what it felt like to walk unburdened. I can't say the same about your brother, though." He glanced at Kage. "Like me, he vomited at the sight of blood at first. But then, he killed Hiroshi. I can't remember if Kage had meant to kill him–"
"I had." Kage said.
"Okay then…He had intended to kill the man. When he did kill Hiroshi, he went quiet for a day. I slapped him across the face, he didn't show a reaction. He didn't put a hand on his cheek. A few weeks later, he killed another. That time, he smiled. And yes, of course it sent a shiver through me. What sort of father would I be if it didn't? But I grew to like that part about him. It's better to be happy doing something unpleasant than sad. That's when I knew he was fit for being in the family…Anyway, after we started to become more known than ever, people practically bowed when they saw us. Shopkeepers smiled. Policemen looked the other way. It was funny, deep down I had never really felt too strong myself. I hadn't even realised it when other families started to actively avoid us in fear. I didn't really soak in our victory. I should have. I should have. When I realised, It was too late. I was sick and betrayed by more than half of our members, and now here we are!" He went into a fit of coughs for a moment. He sat back up on the bed. "Anyway Takumi, that is how men like me become respectable," he said. "Not by being good, but by being predictable. A rigid routine, we made ourselves useful to the fear already in people's hearts. They trusted the rules would be followed. That debts would be paid. That chaos would stay in its assigned rooms…" For a moment he seemed to consider saying more, then stopped, as if the thought itself had exhausted him. His head slumped back on the pillow. "You don't need to understand it," he said, softer now. "I only need you to know that none of it felt dramatic while it was happening. That's the lie stories tell. It was slow. Boring, even…So stop looking like you are about to explode Takumi. You're red all over and you can't stop shaking." His father's voice had thinned, trailing off. Takumi looked at his father, and then at his palms. They were drenched in sweat. He rubbed them on the pants, using it as a towel.
"Sorry. It's hot here…" Takumi said.
"I suppose…It's pouring rain outside, we do have the heat turned up to the max. I can open the window." Said Kage.
"Yes, thank you." Takumi replied. After the window was opened, Kage sat back down again. Ksge spoke.
"Father. Would you like some tea?"
The father grunted in a way that said, "Yes". Kage nodded and rushed out to get tea. Takumi shifted around in his chair. His pants stuck to him with sweat, he had a thick, foggy pain in his head. The father coughed. "I like it." Takumi thought. "The way my father describes it. Calm, cold, and planned–for the most part…Being a member of the Yakuza sounds good…But perhaps he is just blabbering. How could it be boring to kill? Maybe that's just the way my father sees it, under an ordinary light. But I could be different. Knowing who I am, I would shake, be a mess like I am right now. If I can't handle talking to my family, how can I handle killing a man? No, why would I want to kill a man? That is not what I am. I need to get a hold of myself. I'm never getting near any Yakuza business. I need to remember that. I am never getting near any Yakuza business–"
"Here you are now, father…" Said Kage, coming into the room with a plate full of tea mugs and biscuits. Somehow he had gotten new ones in no longer than a minute. The father turned his head to the plate which was now laying on his lap. The father barked.
"What is this?...I want Gyokuro!"
Gyukoro was a rich green tea that would have cost thousands to drink. Kage took the plate away.
"We don't have Gyukoro, father. You should know this–we can't possibly afford something like that."
"Father?" He began to cough. "What in god's name do you mean father? You are my servant. My servant–" Red spewed out of his mouth. He coughed again. His face wrinkled. Takumi got out of his chair. "Is he okay?" He asked. Kage put a hand on his shoulder and moved Takumi out of the room. "No. He's going into a fit again. He has no idea where he is. It's the same state he was in when he told me those instructions to give to you. Come on. Let's leave him alone."
Takumi stood still. "Would it not be better to…To help?"
"No. There's nothing we can really do to help him. He just wears himself out and goes to sleep eventually."
Takumi nodded thickly. It didn't feel right leaving his own father there, but at the same time, he could drop dead right there and Takumi wouldn't care. Kage shut the door just as the father shouted. "I want Gyukoro! Gyukoro!" Kage sighed. He put a hand on his forehead.
"I'm sorry Takumi, I'm sorry…This has been a chaotic visit, I know it's been difficult coming over–"
"It's fine, Kage. Really, I'm just happy to see you. And it's not your fault for what happened to father. Kage nodded with a smile.
"You have always been nice, brother."
"I don't know about that," Takumi said, laughing. "From what I can recall I screamed and hit you all the time." The brothers laughed together now. The cousins all sat down on the couch, laid back now, the cigars Takumi had given them put out on the ash tray. "Jeez, they smoked them fast." Takumi said. Kage agreed.
"I thought they would savor it or something. They've been buying cheap ones for months now. Again, thank you for the gifts."
"Yes. It's no bother." Takumi smiled. And then, without warning, love came to him. It wasn't the kind people speak of easily, but something heavy. He hadn't felt it since the last time he had seen his brother, when they were both boys, though even then it never felt as though they were the same age. Kage always seemed older, impossibly so, as if he carried years that did not belong to him. Takumi used to watch him and wonder what went on inside his head. What a person like that thought about. What he knew. What sort of man he already was, even then. Takumi never found an answer, and perhaps there was none to find. But he loved him. That much was certain. He loved him even when Kage would hit him after he would take his football, even when he shouted and pushed him away, even when Takumi cried and begged him to stop being mean. The love did not disappear in those moments; it tangled with fear and anger until Takumi could no longer tell where one ended and the other began. And when Kage left, it was as if that love had gone dormant, sealed away inside of him. For ten years it lay there, untouched. Yet Takumi knew Kage would come back. He had to. Kage wasn't the kind of person who simply vanished. To leave without a word, without a letter, without even an explanation cruel enough to be hated, that was not him. Takumi refused to accept it. Even in the silence, he carried that certainty with him, stubborn and unexamined, like something fragile. Takumi smiled this time, but this time it wasn't a mask. He truly smiled. Kage stared for a moment, smiling too, then brought Takumi down to the couch. The cousins all seemed to be close to falling asleep. The cigars must have taken them out. One of them awoke at the sound of the couch creaking, Yuto. "Oh. Hello, Takumi…" Yuto rubbed his eye. "The cigars you gave us, they were very nice. We all chain puffed them though, we should have appreciated them more." Takumi chuckled.
"It's okay. I don't mind how you smoke them."
"Are any of you hungry?" Kage asked. The cousins on the couch stayed asleep. Yuto tapped the shoulder of the cousin sitting down on the couch beside him, Kenta. "Wake up." Yuto muttered, his voice slurred and weary. "Wake up, Kenta. Kage's asking a question. Wake up!" He shook him and Kenta snapped like a broken rope. His eyes opened and he gazed at Kage for a second. "What?...Food? I…Oh Jesus, hi Cousin. You scared the hell out of me."
Takumi smirked. "All these names," He thought, "How will I ever be able to remember them? What was it…Kenta, Yuto, Riku…Soka? No…Sota…Haru, Kenji, Taichi, Minato. I guess I can remember them all then."
"How about we go out for pizza, yeah?" Kage said. "There's a local restaurant just around the corner, you remember it, Kenta?" Takumi turned around to face him. Kenta stood up.
"Yea, I would like to go there."
"How about you, Takumi?" Kage asked.
"Yeah, pizza's fine."
"All right then, that's enough votes for me, I'll wake the rest of them up." Kage leapt out of the couch and started clapping his hands at the rest of the cousins. One by one, they came to life, and one by one they got off the couch. Before long, they were all ready to leave the house.
Takumi's coat had now dried off, and the rain had disappeared. The sky had now gone into an almost hellish red, and it was heavy, as if it were pressing down on the buildings. It was not bright nor glowing, it was just there, stretching wide and dull in places, being darker in others. The clouds caught what was left of the sun and smeared it across themselves unevenly, leaving long streaks of color that looked rubbed in by hand. It was now late, past the point where evening was meant to be comforting. Soon it would be dark. The rain had stopped, but the ground still clutched it. Water sat in shallow pools. Everything looked slightly off, Takumi noticed, as they made their way out of the apartment and down the steps. In front of Takumi the cousins started to almost march confidently ahead. He couldn't help but notice the way they resembled geese. Obviously he wouldn't say that aloud to them, but with their heads high and their bodies forward one couldn't help but notice the similarities. They weren't hurrying, they weren't sneaking, they were just going, like they had already decided they owned the ground. And they basically did, so who was Takumi to judge? His mind went off at the thought of the geese. There was a time when Takumi's mother brought him and Kage to the zoo, when they were both at an age where they didn't fight. Their mother was stressed to get them out of the house in time, and Takumi could not get up. Their mother would shake him, scream at him, even poor cold water on his face, yet he stayed with his eyes shut. Then, when Kage came into the room for the first time that bright morning and just simply said the words, "Brother, it's me Kage, I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving you and mother now forever." Takumi almost ran out of bed and clenched onto Kage, sobbing for five minutes. He was only four years old then. Their mother reprimanded Kage for making his little brother cry, but to be fair to Kage, it got him out of bed. When they got to the zoo, Takumi and Kage were absolutely fascinated by the animals. They giggled and waved at them, they let the horses eat the crumbs out of their hands, they pounded on the glass cage that contained the monkeys, they jumped away from the spit that the llamas hurled at them. They were in a trance-like state of bliss until the last moment. On the ride home their mother, now exhausted from the day, asked them what their favourite animals were. Kage said the tiger and the monkeys, but Takumi went silent. He thought hard, as hard as a four year old could think. Out of every animal they had seen, the one he liked the most would have to be the monkeys, because they were funny, and jumped around. But the one he couldn't get out of his mind, he did not know why, was the goose. The way it moved. The way it was clean. The way it was strong. It took him many years of thinking, but he eventually realised not soon after Kage was gone, that the reason he thought about geese so much was because he wanted to be like them. He wanted to be tidy and neat. He wanted to be smooth. He wanted to be confident. He wanted to walk around without worry. Yet he didn't. At age twenty-five, he still does not. He still does not.
"Takumi." Kage said. Takumi jolted out of his thoughts, like usual.
"Yes?"
"I…" His voice cracked. "I just wanted to ask you…Is mother alright? Well, I know she's alright, but how is she really? What does she say about me? Does she say anything about me?"
Takumi blinked heavily. "She…I don't really talk to her as much as I used to, since I'm in Fukuoka now. Back when…You left–I mean when you were taken, she talked about you everyday, obviously. She would either be out looking for you or trying to find you in some way, or she would be lying on the couch, the ground, her bed, drinking herself to death. It's kind of a blur to me, I avoided her myself. It took about four to five years for us to truly get back to 'normal' but even then, we were never the same. After I get back from this trip, though, I will tell mother all about you, and maybe she could come over."
"Yes," Kage smiled. "That would be nice. The reason I didn't invite her this time, well first of all was because I thought she wouldn't want to come…"
Takumi shook his head instinctively. "Of course she would! I don't mean to be rude, Kage, but she wishes more than anything to see you every day…"
"Yes, I suppose you're right. But I also didn't want to make her sad. She doesn't know that I am in this…This Yakuza. And father, too. Him being sick wouldn't have been nice for her to see, and I'm sure it isn't nice for you to see either Takumi but…It just feels worse with her."
"Yeah."
Takumi and Kage both went silent. There was nothing more to say now. The sky had gone fully dark. The stars in the sky lit up, and the street lights in the narrow road did too. A ragged man appeared from a slim alleyway to the right, holding a bottle and stumbling. "No doubt he's drunk." Thought Takumi. The drunk man moved closer to the cousins, and then zigzagged his way to Kage and Takumi. He moved close to Takumi's face. The cousins stopped along with Kage. Takumi moved his head back.
"Sir…Kind sir…Ichika? You…Have seen her?"
Takumi shook his head. "No."
The drunk man's already wrinkled face contorted even more. Takumi took a moment to look at him. He had to have been at least seventy or older, his grey beard practically rotting. Specks of dirt scattered around his face and body. There was a deep, moldy yellow scar on his cheek. His eyes were a color of green, and the pupils were wide, yet so tired. Takumi then suddenly got a smell of him. Rotten. Takumi's eyebrows slanted. "He mustn't be able to shower. He's poor and drunk. Poor man."
"Ichika?" The drunk man moaned again. "Please…Are you one of her friends? She goes to parties a lot, you look young, you must have at least heard of her…" Kage rushed in. Suddenly, in the span of two seconds, he shoved the drunk man away, leaving him tripping until he landed on his back onto the hard pavement. Soon the cousins began to howl with laughter, and Kage smiled too. Takumi looked around at his family slowly, making a mockery of the poor man. He stood there shaking. His hands had now started to leak sweat again. "What the hell? The poor man…He was talking about his daughter, his girl…What the hell is Kage doing? I…" The thoughts trailed off and landed into reality. Takumi spoke.
"Kage! Why did you push him?"
Kage's face went stern as Takumi edged closer to him.
"He was going to hurt you Takumi. He's insane."
"There's a vast difference between an insane person and a sad drunk man! A drunk man says what's truly on his mind, an insane man says what's left of his!"
Kage laughed. "Okay, little brother. I'll lift him up."
Takumi felt a rush of blood."Don't call me that." But Takumi didn't say it out loud. His anger quickly went away…"Why would I be annoyed at my older brother calling me his little brother? It's logical. No. That's not what to focus on right now. The drunk man." Takumi watched as Kage grabbed the drunk man by the hands, the same way he would yank his teddy bear off the ground when he was very young.
"Ichika!" The drunk man screamed, his voice shattered in half. The bottle in his hands started to rattle as Kage helped him up. Takumi watched. It rattled. The drunk man screamed again. "Ichika! Ichika! Ichika, my child! My sweet, sweet little girl! Come back! Come BACK!" He let go of his grip. The bottle dropped at once and smashed to the ground, hitting Kage's foot. At once the man was dropped again. A loud thud. Takumi backed away as Kage started to shout at the drunk man.
"Fucker! What the hell is wrong with you!"
"Ichika!–"
Kage swung his right hand into his cheek at full force. The drunk man's face slammed into the stone. The cousins moved inward. Kenta spoke. "Kage. Just leave him." Kage kicked the drunk man's skull. Then he kicked it again. A red splatter.
"Ichika! Ichika! Ichika!" The drunk man cried after every hit. Takumi stood motionless. Now something else inside him shook. His stomach lurched. A sympathetic knot tied in his gut as if the leather in Kage's boot had pressed directly into his organs. Why did it hurt so much, watching this? Why? There was a hot, trickling sensation behind Takumi's eyes. His mind went into a state where nothing seemed real anymore, and sleep dust started to grow on his eyelids. This was the same feeling he had before he answered the door to his cousins, when the letter got washed away. His brother's leg moved back and forth with the mechanical indifference of a piston as his cousins tried to pull him back. The drunk man was oozing with blood now. He spoke still. "Ichika…Ichi–...Daddy's home…Please…Don't let this happen…"
It hurt. It hurt Takumi's heart. "Stop Kage, stop it!" But no. He kept it in his head. Why was his brother doing this? The same brother who woke him up by saying he was leaving 'forever' to get him out of bed. The cousins ripped at Kage now. His bright suit started to tear. Red specks painted it. The drunk man screamed like a dying dog. "ICHIKA! ICHIKA! ICHIKA! ICHIKA! ICHIKA!--" A crack. The drunk man's head slumped. His voice halted. Kage lowered his foot, now panting heavily. The cousins ushered him away from the man. Takumi looked down. He hadn't realised it until now, but he had gone onto the ground, cowering as Kage beat the man. Slowly, the cousins spread out. Kage moved back too. Takumi tried to get back up as quickly as he could, but his legs refused. Now they were hurting. Everything was hurting. The drunk man didn't move an inch. Takumi finally pushed himself up. Something had changed inside of his body. His bowels had turned to water, his throat had gone dry. Kage turned to face Takumi. He walked up to him. Takumi still kept his eyes on the drunk man, he didn't even notice Kage. Then, a burst of sound. "Takumi!" His heart rose as he felt the tight grip of Kage's hands on his arms. "Takumi…He…That drunk lunatic is dead. Okay?"
"Dead?" Takumi put a hand to his hair. "Wha–What do you mean dead? You…You killed him?"
"By accident! This…This man was trying to hurt us, you have to believe me. Things like this happen all the time, it's okay Takumi."
Takumi swallowed his spit. Now his heart pumped madly, he could feel his veins flowing through his skin, each individual bead of sweat on his palms. Everything seemed to tickle him almost, there was a slight sensation in every part of him that he could feel all too well, and now it felt as if he couldn't handle all those feelings at once. One word rang in his mind, "DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD." It hurt to think about. There was too much to think about. Takumi suddenly took his arm away from Kage. "You killed him? He was just…He was just an old man, he was talking about his daughter!"
"I know, Takumi." Kage put a hand on Takumi's shoulder. The cousins moved closer around them. "But he was truly going to hurt us, I can see when things like this are about to happen. I had to stop him. When he dropped the bottle, it was on purpose too."
Takumi lashed out. "No! You're wrong! You were grabbing him, he couldn't hold his grip. He was about to leave us…Why did you do this!" Takumi rushed towards Kage. Kage stepped back quickly, leaving Takumi sprawling onto the ground, tripping over a stone and landing onto the piles of plastic trash bags mixed with cans. Kage moved over to Takumi. "Brother. What are you doing? You're acting like a child. Come on…We can talk more about this when we get to the restaurant. It will close soon." Takumi pushed himself out of the mess. He was on his feet again in the span of a second.
"The restaurant!?" Takumi screamed. "You killed a man!?"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kage muttered beneath his breath, sounding almost disappointed. "Why are you acting like this? You were fine in the house–"
"You killed that poor drunk man for no reason! Wha–Are you…Are you blind?! Can you not see it…Why would I be okay at a time like this…"
Kage moved closer to Takumi, his left hand extended out as to try and calm Takumi, like he was an angry dog.
"Get away from me!" Takumi yelped. His voice cracked in the middle, splitting into something ugly and thin. "Don't…Don't touch me! Don't lie to me…"
"I'm not lying to you…" Kage's voice had grown serious. Takumi shook his head. Now he was drenched in sweat.
"You're my brother…You, you don't…You would never kill a man…"
"Things change brother, and besides, as I have been saying, he was going to kill me too. He was!"
"He was screaming for his daughter!" Takumi went on, his words spilling over each other, "You didn't have to do that–he was never going to hurt anyone, he was drunk." Takumi looked Kage in the eyes. At that moment, his eyes grew more rage than they had ever done before. Takumi's heart throbbed with anger, hurt, sadness, confusion. Nothing in his body was working. He was like a robot who had all his circuits pulled out and rearranged. The cousins had froze. Kage's jaw tightened. "You don't understand," he said, even firmer now. "You don't know how these things work."
"No," Takumi said. He chuckled to himself, not knowing what was so funny. "No, I don't! I don't understand! And I don't want to!" Kage said his name. That alone was unbearable now. He said his name calmly again, as if there wasn't a dead man leaking blood from a crack in his skull only four feet away from them. Takumi felt something rising in him. He put his hands, drenched in sweat, to his throat. He laughed again. He didn't mean to. It startled him more than anyone else. "You see?" he said, and he was no longer sure who he was speaking to, Kage, the cousins, himself, the dead man, perhaps even his father. "You see how easy it is for you to say it. How clean it sounds in your mouth."
Kage had grown a worried expression. The cousins inched closer to Takumi. His thoughts were coming apart now. They no longer followed one another, they were colliding, they were overlapping. The street he was on felt too narrow, then suddenly endless. The buildings started to lean in, listening to his conversation. He wanted to look at them and go, "Mind your own business!" But he didn't. Takumi put his hands through his hair and retreated away from Kage, beside the pile of trash. "You're acting like a child brother. An insane one at that."
"Me? You–You mean me? I'd say you're the child. What type of brother…" Takumi's voice started to crack. "What type of grown man kills a drunk person just for being drunk?"
Kage moved closer.
Takumi pushed him again.
"Stop it! Leave me…Alone!" Takumi felt suddenly that if he stayed for a moment longer, something inside him would harden permanently. That he would never be able to move again. Not his legs, not his thoughts, not his heart.
"I need to leave," he said. The sentence arrived fully formed. It was calm and final. Something else said that. Not Takumi. "I can't… I can't be here."
"We are in the Yakuza Takumi. This is standard."
"No! It's not! It's not 'business' if that's what you are trying to say! It's murder! He didn't do anything wrong! He didn't do anything…"
Takumi stopped. He noticed something. To the right of him, there was a gap. It must have to lead to an alleyway, or something. He looked back at Kage. "Takumi…My god…Are you insane?" Kage took a step forward. That was enough. Takumi turned and ran to the alleyway. No more thoughts were inside of him, not now.