Yakuza by Cacat-angel

Teenaged Boys in Shinjuku

Haku-Youkai. The White Demon. They say he kills with a flick of his clawed fingers. They say his maddened laughter, fueled by the rush of killing, fills the air, the last thing you hear before you leave this world. They say his face is a mask of unearthly beauty. They say, he is the Devil Incarnate.

Nobody knows what happens to those who live long enough to tell these tales. And yet the legends spread, urban legends that speak of one of the most ruthless, deadliest yakuza clan leader ever, a force not even the Oyabun of the secret society wish to trifle with.

~*~*~*~

"Souta!" Kagome whispered, her voice laced with anxiety. Slender, cold fingers traced the wall gingerly as she tried to make her way through the hallway in the dark without bumping into any furniture.

She paused. Nothing.

Finally, her hands met with something round and smooth. "So-Souta?" She held her breath and twisted the doorknob slowly, hoping for all the world that she would be able to hear her younger brother's careless snore. But the room was silent again, the only thing lingering inside an awful stench.

Her suspicions were confirmed - the rebellious young man had gone on a midnight rendezvous once again.

Was this a phase that teenage boys went through?

Holding her hands in front of her, she made her way clumsily over to Souta's bed, then scrambled onto it to peer out of the window. She could make out the dark, silent street beyond the hill their little house was built on, lighted only by the streetlamps along the roadside.

Unknowingly, her tiny hands clasped together as she craned her neck, as though by merely looking, Souta would be miraculously summoned back home.

Okasan was disturbed by the change in Souta's behavior...more than just disturbed. Dinnertime was strained nowadays, with Okasan often gazing worriedly at Souta's empty chair, eyebrows furrowed deep in thought. Kagome would follow her mother's stare and start thinking of the times when Souta was young, when his innocent chatter and clear laughter would ring through the entire household. Times when Souta would trudge nervously into Kagome's room, hugging Buyo against his chest and claiming that he was too afraid to sleep. But now...

Slowly growing accustomed more or less to the dark, Kagome's squinted eyes drifted to the pictures which adorned Souta's cluttered room. Well at least those adornments had bikinis on, barely covering enough as they were. The floor was littered with stale cigarette butts, filling the room with the noxious odor she had smelled earlier. A couple of beer cans sat stoutly in a corner, and she could make out a small puddle next to it.

Truly, her heart ached for Souta almost as much as okaasan's had, maybe just as much. People often told her that she was as aware of her surroundings as a blackboard. Maybe they were right, but this time, it was painfully obvious that Souta was changing...changing into a stranger right before their very eyes.

Careful not to make any noise to wake her mother, she stumbled through the corridor and back to her room, crawling desolately onto her soft pink bed and pulling her legs against her chest. She reached for the cordless phone next to her bed hesitantly. Hojou-san was probably asleep by now but he was normally so kind and patient towards her, he would listen to her...wouldn't he?

But before her finger could press down on a button, the phone rang rang shrilly. Startled, she fumbled, almost dropping it to the ground in her haste.

"Mo-moshi, moshi, Higurashi residence!"

There was a pause. Then, "Souta? Get yer...stinkin'...ass down here now...we're placin' our bets already..." A voice slurred over the phone.

Kagome's eyebrows shot high up, startled by the obscenities. And...What...what's this about 'bets' that he was talking about? Was this Souta's friend?

"He's not in right now...may I know who's speaking please?" She asked cautiously.

"None of yer cun-...ah? Oi, Souta? Yer here already??" Another muffled voice sounded in the background. Was that...Souta? It sounded a lot like him! Kagome clutched both hands around the phone, pressing it close to her ears as she strained to listen.

"...took me bloody long to find Ice-cafe...yea...didn't know...in Shinjuku, man! My sis...what the hell??-" Then there was a loud clattering noise then the phone line went dead.

The thoroughly puzzled girl stared intently at the phone in her hands, her mind frantically working as she tried to piece the conversation together. They were placing bets already...and...the guy had suddenly said that Souta was there. And then the Souta-person was talking about something...the Ice-cafe...in Shinjuku?

He had gone gambling in Shinjuku??

Kagome sat upright as the realization hit her, her large eyes widening to two round saucers.

"I've got to get to him now!"

Jumping to her feet and banging her hips against the bedside table in the process, she grabbed a coat from the rack and rushed out of her room.

~*~*~*~

All throughout the journey, Kagome shifted in her seat uneasily, glancing out of the cab window once every few minutes. The cab driver's constant scrutiny through the rearview mirror was starting to get under her skin. What did she do anyway? Ok...on second thoughts maybe it wasn't that normal for a girl in her suburban district to flag a cab in the middle of the night and head for some unknown place in Shinjuku.

At least, not for her.

Inwardly, she was applauding her sudden burst of spontaneity, almost swelling with pride. Kagome Higurashi was a rather shy and could she say it; uptight, girl. And for her to act on a whim such as this was, well...unheard of, really.

An hour later, Kagome was regretting immensely.

Even as the familiar safety of the quaint little suburban houses gradually grew smaller and then eventually left behind by the speeding cab, and the twinkling lights of Tokyo slowly grew brighter, Kagome's confidence was starting to deplete dangerously. Nervously, she wiped her sweating palms against her thighs. Think of mom, and Souta. I cant leave him alone, not especially somewhere as dangerous as Shinjuku!

Suppressing the growing urge of telling the driver to turn back and head for the comfort of her home, she gritted her teeth and planted her buttocks firmly into the seat. I'm going to get Souta back...a sudden flash of pink caught her eyes as she stared down at her attire in unbridled horror...in my pink bunny-print nightgown if necessary.

~*~*~*~

"Ahh...quick..." Pant. "I need it..." Pant. "now..."

"Ngh..."

"OHHHhhhhh..."

A tall man sauntered out of the ladies' washroom adjusting his pants, even as the echoes of a woman's wanton, throaty cries died down and was replaced by quick, soft pants. Lazily, he ran a hand through his slightly damp silver hair, his handsome face cool and expressionless save for the tiny beads of moisture that graced his otherwise smooth complexion.

"Woah..." a stouter man, balding with a wart covered face in his fourties, hurried forward to greet him. He glanced almost longingly towards the door. "That was a screamer you had in there huh...so how was she eh??"

"She talked. Hirosaki's clan will arrive at the pier at midnight." Not sparing him a glance, the man continued his way out of the long corridor, his strides long and powerful.

The stout man stared after him, shivering ever so slightly. His clan-leader's choice of getting information didn't surprise him a least bit. Even as a man, he could feel the irresistible force of attraction the leader radiated, that strange sexual magnetism that was so distinctly his.

"And Jaken...." The tall man paused in his steps and turned ever so slightly. Golden eyes met widened black ones with a gleam. "You wouldn't want to lose another finger now, would you."

Jaken's complexion turned a shade greener than normal as he stared after his clan leader, Hakuyoukai's proud, retreating figure. He looked down reflexively at his own two missing fingers. He gulped and quickly shoved his hand into his pocket before trotting obediently after Hakuyoukai.