A Yakuza's Circumstances (5)
Yuria stepped out of the taxi with a downcast look on her face.
Her senpai, Suzuki, seemed to be someone precious to both Noah and Chise. Chise had cried herself raw, and Noah had kept her mouth shut for five full hours without uttering a single word.
The weight of their grief was so heavy that Yuria couldn't even manage the usual words of comfort. In the end, she was nothing more than a junior they'd met a week ago.
So Yuria decided to do what she could.
"It's a miracle she's even alive. They said twenty-four rounds went into her body."
"F-for real? And she was still moving?"
"Apparently none of them hit a vital organ. Even so, that much..."
"Excuse me."
That was what she'd overheard while wandering the area, too restless to sit still. The men smoking nearby had blood all over their clothes. Yuria had seen through at a glance that they were the ones who'd transported Suzuki, and she'd asked them.
"Suzuki-senpai — please tell me the address of wherever she was taken from."
And that was how she'd ended up here.
From the outside, it looked like an ordinary commercial building. The second-floor windows were blocked off with coverings. It might have passed for a simple abandoned property, except for the crowd of people and the police tape marking it as a crime scene.
"They don't look like police, though..."
Every last one of them was in a black suit. On top of that, they were covered in tattoos, and their accessories were flashy.
Yakuza... aren't they?
Even Yuria, who was not known for her powers of observation, could tell. They weren't even trying to hide it. Nearby civilians muttered among themselves and hurried to get away.
Yuria swallowed dryly and stepped forward, crossing the police tape.
"Miss. This is a crime scene."
A man with his hands in his pockets and a cigarette in his mouth spoke to her.
"Turn around."
It was a beast's gaze — the kind that would have made any ordinary person freeze on the spot. Yuria paid it no mind and pointed to her armband.
"I'm with the Saints Public Morals Committee. I have provisional investigative authority."
"Huh? You work at a wind farm or something?"
Yuria stared at him, baffled.
"Perfect timing! Hey, why the hell is my electric bill so high?"
Whack!
"You moron. Can't you see she's in a school uniform? Why aren't you controlling the perimeter already?"
"I'm sorry, sir!!"
The yakuza who'd answered at the top of his lungs put a hand on Yuria's shoulder and shoved her back.
"Miss, this is a restricted area. Go somewhere else. This isn't kids playing house."
The words playing house made something snap behind Yuria's eyes. She seized the yakuza's hand and his collar and threw him.
Thud!
The heavy impact drew every eye in the vicinity.
This is bad... I-I really did it now.
Yuria was already regretting the instinctive move when—
"Whooooaaa!"
The yakuza around her lit up, eyes sparkling, and broke into applause.
"Miss! How'd you do that just now? That bastard weighed a hundred kilos!"
"Now that's what I call heat! Why don't you join our organization?"
Twenty vicious-looking men closed in around her. Yuria edged backward, thinking,
W-what is with these people...? Th-they're terrifying.
But the yakuza were praising her with genuine admiration, and Yuria's slumped shoulders squared. She lifted her chin.
"Hmph. This much is nothing."
"That's badass! You bastard—wait, you bitch!"
"An over-the-shoulder throw on first meeting? She's the craziest woman I've ever seen!"
"The Young Boss is gonna love this!"
"So, miss. What brings you here?"
Yuria remembered why she'd come.
"Ahem. I'm here to investigate. A Saints student was seriously injured in this incident."
A man with square shoulders scratched the top of his head.
"That's a problem. Civilians aren't allowed in."
"And who exactly is a civilian?"
Yuria bristled, but she was growing desperate.
At this rate, it's no different from a year ago...
If a student announced she was going to investigate while playing at being police, of course they'd look down on her. What she needed in moments like this was the status of Public Morals Committee chair.
Frankly, she doubted it would do any good. Even so, Yuria declared it with her head held high.
"The first-year Public Morals Committee chair at Saints is the famous young lady of the Minamoto family. Surely you don't mean to tell me you don't know the Minamoto? They're a great aristocratic house — it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they made the history of Japan..."
"W-wait a second, miss. What did you just say?"
The yakuza's reaction was strange. Their eyes went wide, and they started pressing her.
"Just now... who did you say was the boss?"
"Not the boss — the committee chair! I haven't actually witnessed you committing a crime, so I won't say anything, but if you're yakuza, you could at least..."
Yuria, who'd been speaking primly, noticed something off and trailed off.
"What's with that look? You look like a dog that desperately needs to pee..."
"We've been terribly rude!"
The yakuza all bowed at the waist as one.
"Huh?"
"We didn't realize you were the young lady's subordinate! Please forgive us!"
"Please forgive us!"
Yuria blinked.
I don't know what's going on, but being worshipped feels pretty good!
She planted a hand on her hip and spoke with authority.
"Show me the crime scene at once!"
"Cleanup isn't finished yet. Are you sure that's all right?"
The yakuza looked worried. Yuria shrugged as if he were being ridiculous.
"Are you joking? Of course a crime scene should be left as it is."
"Ohh...!"
The yakuza were moved. She had to know about that, and yet her composure didn't waver in the slightest. Even seasoned syndicate members hesitated to walk straight into a scene Suzuki Kotone had been through.
As expected of the Young Boss. She's already assembling some serious talent. Thinking as much, the yakuza smiled brightly and led the way.
"This way, please."
"Talk. So what happened. Why are those bastards after me."
Noah sat down with a sour look on her face.
"They say it was a contract."
"From who."
Suzuki answered in a voice that barely made it out of her throat.
"...I haven't been able to find that out yet."
Noah sighed. This was going to be a nuisance for a while. Still, it was better than them going after Chise — or so she told herself. The thought of dealing with people who used guns out in the open, not blades or axes or staged traffic accidents, was already exhausting.
"The Yamaguchi-gumi's been completely cleaned up, right?"
"Yes."
Noah rubbed her chin. There was no such thing as a terrorist without a target. In that case, what did they stand to gain by killing her?
"Money... probably not."
To ordinary people, the Minamoto were a faded old house. High-ranking yakuza knew better. They knew the Minamoto were still very much intact. If someone had moved for money anyway, that meant the sum on offer had been enough to make a person gasp.
And an amount that large wouldn't come from anyone below the Fujiwara's level...
"The Four Great Clans?"
"Do you suspect the Tachibana?"
Japan's Four Great Clans. Minamoto, Fujiwara, Tachibana, Heishi. Of those, the Heishi had been wiped out by the Minamoto during the Edo period. She'd heard they barely clung to a bloodline now, so they could be set aside.
Which left the Tachibana.
"Come on. No way."
When the worst possible answer presented itself, the first impulse was always to deny it. The Fujiwara were conglomerate heads. The Minamoto were the world's largest criminal organization. And the Tachibana ruled Japan's current political world. There was a prime minister, of course — but every last one of them was a Tachibana person. They always had been, and they always would be.
What made it truly annoying was that the Tachibana also ran a global military corporation.
"What would they even be short on."
Just then the hospital room door opened and someone came in. It was Takeo.
"Human greed has no end, after all. Young Boss."
Takeo set down a pile of fruit, then placed both hands on his slightly bent knees and bowed at the waist.
"You've been working hard."
"Yeah."
"Hahaha! The Young Boss's way of greeting never fails to amuse me."
Takeo laughed brightly, pulled out a chair, and sat. Then his face turned serious as he reported.
"The oyabun is suspicious of the Tachibana as well."
"For real?"
"Yes. He said that if the culprit is Japanese, the only one with the guts to touch the Minamoto is the Tachibana."
"Fair enough."
Even so, the question remained. The Minamoto did not interfere in Japanese politics. They simply ruled the underworld, thoroughly and without apology. They caused trouble now and then, but only ever after being struck first.
They didn't sell drugs. They didn't lay a hand on ordinary civilians. If anyone was a thorn in the Tachibana's side, it was the Fujiwara — they had such a stranglehold on the business world that the Tachibana could barely expand.
And yet, out of nowhere, the Minamoto.
"You got a guess, Takeo?"
"As I said, human greed has no end, does it? The Tachibana want to dominate as much as they possibly can. The Minamoto, who answer to no one, must be a splinter in their eye."
If that were true, Noah had exactly one thing she wanted to say to them.
They were being greedy.
This world was built differently. Even if someone declared a war on crime, you couldn't cleanly wipe the underworld off the map.
Because of the people with special power.
Take Suzuki, lying there in front of her. At ten years old she'd been hit by an eight-ton truck, scratched her head, and gotten up like it was nothing. A lunatic. If someone had that kind of inhuman strength, could the law stop them?
No. The only thing that could control people like that wasn't the law. It was power. Power like the Minamoto's.
"Stupid. If the Minamoto disappeared, Japan would turn into a city of crime."
"Well, nothing's been confirmed yet."
Noah stood. Suzuki looked up at her with pitiful eyes.
"I-I'm sorry.. Young Boss.. I couldn't... follow your orders.."
Suzuki wasn't completely fine, either. She'd be stuck in the hospital for a few weeks at the very least. Which meant Noah's order — find out within a week why they're after me — had, for all intents and purposes, failed.
Failure was not tolerated among the Minamoto. Suzuki knew better than anyone that Noah, however adorable she looked on the outside, was colder than anyone. She was afraid.
"You're in that state and that's what comes out of your mouth?"
"Ugh.."
Suzuki pulled the blanket up over her head and trembled. She was sure she was about to get hit again.
Instead, a warm hand found her. She peeked out — and Noah was stroking her hair. Noah smiled faintly.
"You did well, Coco."
"Hahk, haahk."
Suzuki made a strange noise, panting like a puppy. Noah decided to let it slide. Just for today.
Yuria was climbing the stairs. The yakuza outside had said, "From here, you'll have to go alone," and hadn't followed. There had been something frightened in his tone. She wondered why.
When she reached the second floor, Yuria shuddered. There was a bleak atmosphere she couldn't name. A bad feeling settled over her.
"What is this...?"
She wondered if it was just the cold, and turned her gaze forward.
"...Fujiwara-senpai?"
At the end of the hallway, a girl stood by the window with her hands folded behind her back. The neat red hair ribbon told Yuria at once that it was Chise.
"You're quite resourceful, Miss Ichinose. I didn't expect you to find this place so quickly."
Chise looked at Yuria and smiled. But unlike usual, her eyes weren't smiling at all. She seemed like a different person, Yuria thought, and said,
"Senpai, you were definitely at the hospital..."
Chise walked toward her without a word. She was only walking, and yet the air itself seemed to change. Overwhelmed, Yuria could do nothing but stare.
When Chise reached her, she looked to the left. Outside the window, yakuza were moving about in a hurry.
"The Minamoto people are so pure, aren't they?"
Yuria came back to herself a beat late.
"The Minamoto?"
"The people standing outside. They're Minamoto."
"Those ya-yakuza?"
Chise covered her mouth and laughed.
"You didn't know? It's a fairly famous story."
There was such a story, it was true. A tabloid rumor that the Minamoto were actually a global yakuza organization operating from the shadows. The kind of childish tale even a child wouldn't believe.
"Th-that's just an urban legend, isn't it?"
"It's true, to a point. The Minamoto are a yakuza family. Unlike the rumors, though, they're warm people."
Yuria's head was spinning. Why was she suddenly talking about this? Then she remembered why she'd come, and said,
"More importantly, this is perfect timing. With senpai's influence, the investigation will go much more smoothly. Please help me, senpai. You're on the Public Morals Committee too, aren't you?"
As she spoke, she reached for the door on the right.
Tak.
Chise caught Yuria's wrist, gently.
"...Senpai?"
"Suzuki-san is a yakuza as well. A fairly high-ranking one, at that. So there's no need for you to step in, Miss Ichinose."
That timid senpai, a yakuza? And high-ranking, no less? Was she supposed to believe that?
And don't step in. That was the phrase Yuria hated most in the world. She frowned.
"Even if that's true, what does it matter? Yakuza are Japanese citizens too, aren't they? If they've been harmed, they have every right to the protection of the law."
Yuria ignored Chise and tried the door.
Rattle. Rattle.
It wouldn't open. It seemed to be locked. She was wondering if there was another way when Chise's pale hand entered her field of view.
Chise had been making a fist. She opened it. A key. The key, however, was snapped cleanly in two.
"You'd be better off not getting involved too deeply."
Yuria looked at her with a hardened face. Chise was watching her with cold eyes that held not a shred of feeling.
Chise smiled. An awkward smile in which only the corners of her mouth had lifted from the expression before. It was the most chilling smile Yuria had ever seen.