Arguably this should have gone before the last post, but i just finished it so here it is.
**
Lung groaned as he picked his head up off of his desk and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Miranda is going to be pissed,” he muttered to no one, “and Nemuri isn’t going to be happy either.” He had promised the both of them that he would not sleep in his office anymore unless it was absolutely necessary, and that even then he would let them know when that was going to happen. Still though he thought with a smile, It will be good to let them know that they are not alone in the world anymore. Looking at the big screen that he usually used to either watch the casino floor or his shows, (mostly his shows), the image of a familiar face, eerily similar to one he had last seen decades before and had thought easily a decade dead with his home island, stared back with a familiar rage bringing back the memories of his youth.
Years Earlier
“He’s your son Shiro,” Kenta heard his mother say to the strange man whose home they stood in front of. “You need to take responsibility for him.” Kenta didn’t know who the man was, all he knew was that his mother had brought him here when she had found out that Uncle Jiro had gotten him to run errands for the club. Behind the man stood a woman who was probably the man’s wife, and a girl of maybe four years. They stood on one side of the doorway of the home that his mother had brought them to, while Kenta and his mother stood outside, and the man stood in the doorway itself.
“Bǎihé,” the man sighed and then took another look at Kenta. He was big for his age of seven years, that was why Uncle had sent him to carry the messages, and now the strange man was eying him like he was measuring his mettle. “You are sure he’s mine?” the man asked finally.
Kenta saw his mother seem to deflate in relief, “Yes Shiro,” she said in a voice a little louder than a whisper. “He is definitely yours, there was no one else at the time that would dare to suffer your rage had they used me in such ways.”
The man reached out and took his mother by the shoulder before pulling her into an embrace. “The two of you need to come inside then,” he said stepping back and waving them inside. “Why now though?”
“Because Jiro put him to work and I won’t have my son sucked down into that morass if I can avoid it.” Kenta winced at the sound of his mother’s voice. There was an edge to it there that he had never heard before, and he doubted he ever would want to hear directed at him.
The man simply nodded to that statement as if it was a simple fact and turned to the woman and child that had already been in the house. “Mami, Hitomi, this is Bǎihé and Kenta,” he said. “Apparently Kenta is my son, and by bringing him here, Bǎihé will need a new place to stay as well since my old boss will take this as a betrayal.”
“No, I won’t,” Kenta’s mother said earning a raised eyebrow from both the man and his wife. “I have already arranged to go back to China. I couldn’t keep your son from you though, and I didn’t trust him with Jiro.”
“Will your path be safe with Jiro against you like this?” the man asked, concern tingeing his voice.
Kenta’s mother smirked and knowing smile, “Jiro doesn’t know all the smugglers out there,” she said. “I have a train I must catch though to make my boat. Take care of him Shiro, and Kenta,” his mother turned to him and dropped down to look him in the face. “Listen to these people, they are your family, and your father will care for you and teach you as a father should.” Kenta nodded, and his mother ruffled his hair before kissing him on the cheek. Standing she looked at the other adults, “Hopefully one day I will be able to return and see him, until then,” his mother stopped and the man, his father continued.
“Until then he is family,” the man said, “and the Takamachi family stands as one.” The other woman and the girl nodded at this statement causing his mother to smile before bowing and leaving. Once his mother was gone his Father turned to him and running another eye over him grunted, “Very well then, Kenta,” he pointed at the older woman. “This is my wife Mami,” the woman bowed politely, and Kenta returned it properly, “And this is our daughter Hitomi.”
The girl walked over and without warning hugged him tightly around his chest, “Yay, I now have an onisan,” the girl bubbled happily, “Aiko-chan will be so jealous.” Kenta could only smile as he wrapped his arms around his new sister.
**Ten Years Later**
“You do this,” Hitomi said from off to one side while Kenta went through the family forms against the training dummy. “and Pops is going to go ballistic. He might kick you out of the house for it.”
“He was my best friend,” Kenta grunted out between strikes, “and Jiro just killed him like you would kill a rabid dog that got close to the little children.” Kenta lashed out with another series of blows, shattering some of the wooden poles that were the strike points on the dummy, “Besides, I’m not going to down there to join one of the gangs, just to exact payment for Toji’s death.
Hitomi shook her head and let fly with the throwing knife that had been flipping between the fingers of her hand. “It won’t matter Kenta,” she said pulling another from up her sleeve. “It won’t be a sanctioned action, and thus he is going to blow his top.”
“Who is going to blow their top,” their father’s voice said entering the dojo causing both teens to jump to stop what they were doing to spin to face their father. “And why,” the elder man continued, “would this person blowing their top matter?”
Kenta and Hitomi locked eyes for a moment and Hitomi’s silent, slight shrug told Kenta she had no idea how long the old man had been listening. “Well you blowing your top is very significant father,” Kenta answered honestly.
The elder man smiled wryly and nodded, “Indeed it would be my son,” Shiro said. “But why would I blow my top, have either of you done something that would anger me?”
“Not that I know of father,” Hitomi said sliding her throwing knife back into its arm sheathe. “But some news that has recently come to Kenta has the potential of rousing your anger should it be acted upon.”
Their father grunted in thought, and then spoke. “You seek to take the Yakuza’s bounty on Jiro then,” was all he said.
“Not for the money, nor for the Yakuza’s sake,” Kenta replied, “Toji was a friend back then, and he leaves behind both a sister and a wife.”
“A wife,” his father said, “at your age?”
Kenta shook his head, “He was a year older than me, and his wife is American born. They met when she came to Japan to look into her heritage.” His father lifted an eyebrow in question, “I don’t know if they were married yet, but I do know they were expecting a little girl soon.”
His father looked away for a moment, obviously in thought, “You would take the life of one you looked upon once as family, and then what, give the woman and her child the money, hoping they could go back to her parents in America?”
“Is there a better way for justice to be served father?” Kenta asked. “If so, then please, for the sake of all the spirits tell me so I may act and bring peace to the soul of one I still think of as a brother.”
His father sighed, “Give me three days my son,” his father said softly as he turned toward the family shrine at the other end of the dojo. “In three days, I will either have an answer, or else I will give you my blessings.”
“Thank you, father,” Kenta said bowing.
“Don’t thank me yet boy,” the old man said with almost a snarl, “you may find that my way is to leave it be and let others handle it. Vengeance is not something we practice here, nor do we seek death for the sake of our own hearts.” The two teens bowed, and their father closed the shoji that separated the dojo from the shrine area.
“I don’t think you are going to get what you want Kenta,” Hitomi said as she walked to the target board and retrieved her throwing knife.
“And yet I have a good feeling about this,” Kenta countered smiling as he withdrew the boards from the strike training dummy and replaced them by sliding in new ones. “He will find a way to see Jiro dead, and then maybe my mother can return to see me.” Hitomi only sighed before she left the dojo.
**Three days later**
“Walk out that door and you will never be welcome here again,” Shiro’s voice was as cold and sharp as the steel that made his blades. “Your mother wanted me to keep you out of that life, and I have done all I could over the years to do just that. That your friend died is a tragedy, but killing Jiro won’t bring him back, and it won’t bring peace to his wife and daughter. Nor will it protect them.”
“And so another death goes unavenged father?” Kenta’s voice was just as cold as their father’s. “I cannot continue to do nothing, and Jiro’s death solves so many people’s problems.”
“And you must be the person who brings about that death?” his father asked. “When was it appointed that you, Takamachi Kenta, was to be the executioner, the final arbiter of justice for the spirits of the dead?”
“Never,” Kenta answered. “And yet there he sits, the people he can reach cowed and fearful of him, or else on the run and hiding. No more father, I can let it stand no more.”
“Then go, willful child,” his father said in a growl, “but never return to this home or this dojo, you are no longer welcome here.” Kenta nodded and stomped out of the dojo, grabbing a bag of clothes that he had put aside in anticipation of the trip. He never heard his father’s final words of, “Spirits protect you my child,” as he left.
**
Lung picked up the phone from his desk and punched the auto-dial. Two rings later a young woman’s voice answered. “No Miranda I’m fine,” he said gently. “I found out something yesterday and there was a bit too much celebrating it after work.” He listened to the young woman on the other end of the phone, mostly nodding to himself. “That’s fine thank you, now please, put her on.” The voice on the other end changed to that of a small child and Lung smiled. “Hello sweetie how was your day?” he asked. After listening to the child chatter away on the other end for a few minutes, mostly spent nodding to himself as he was berated, he said, “I know sweetie, I’m sorry, I’ll try not to let it happen again alright?” The response made him smile. “Alright, I have to get back to work, but maybe soon I’ll have a surprise for you.” The chatter on the other end made him smile, “Well I can’t tell you silly,” he answered, “then it wouldn’t be a surprise. I love you.” He finished and after the voice on the other end answered him, he hung up the phone. Pushing the intercom button, he spoke his assistant, “Souta, I need you to get me some contact information for the Takamachi girl.”
“Right away Lung-sama” the person on the other end of the intercom replied causing Lung to sit back and relax a bit. Soon niece, he thought, soon you will have more family than you ever thought you might.
**
Lung groaned as he picked his head up off of his desk and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Miranda is going to be pissed,” he muttered to no one, “and Nemuri isn’t going to be happy either.” He had promised the both of them that he would not sleep in his office anymore unless it was absolutely necessary, and that even then he would let them know when that was going to happen. Still though he thought with a smile, It will be good to let them know that they are not alone in the world anymore. Looking at the big screen that he usually used to either watch the casino floor or his shows, (mostly his shows), the image of a familiar face, eerily similar to one he had last seen decades before and had thought easily a decade dead with his home island, stared back with a familiar rage bringing back the memories of his youth.
Years Earlier
“He’s your son Shiro,” Kenta heard his mother say to the strange man whose home they stood in front of. “You need to take responsibility for him.” Kenta didn’t know who the man was, all he knew was that his mother had brought him here when she had found out that Uncle Jiro had gotten him to run errands for the club. Behind the man stood a woman who was probably the man’s wife, and a girl of maybe four years. They stood on one side of the doorway of the home that his mother had brought them to, while Kenta and his mother stood outside, and the man stood in the doorway itself.
“Bǎihé,” the man sighed and then took another look at Kenta. He was big for his age of seven years, that was why Uncle had sent him to carry the messages, and now the strange man was eying him like he was measuring his mettle. “You are sure he’s mine?” the man asked finally.
Kenta saw his mother seem to deflate in relief, “Yes Shiro,” she said in a voice a little louder than a whisper. “He is definitely yours, there was no one else at the time that would dare to suffer your rage had they used me in such ways.”
The man reached out and took his mother by the shoulder before pulling her into an embrace. “The two of you need to come inside then,” he said stepping back and waving them inside. “Why now though?”
“Because Jiro put him to work and I won’t have my son sucked down into that morass if I can avoid it.” Kenta winced at the sound of his mother’s voice. There was an edge to it there that he had never heard before, and he doubted he ever would want to hear directed at him.
The man simply nodded to that statement as if it was a simple fact and turned to the woman and child that had already been in the house. “Mami, Hitomi, this is Bǎihé and Kenta,” he said. “Apparently Kenta is my son, and by bringing him here, Bǎihé will need a new place to stay as well since my old boss will take this as a betrayal.”
“No, I won’t,” Kenta’s mother said earning a raised eyebrow from both the man and his wife. “I have already arranged to go back to China. I couldn’t keep your son from you though, and I didn’t trust him with Jiro.”
“Will your path be safe with Jiro against you like this?” the man asked, concern tingeing his voice.
Kenta’s mother smirked and knowing smile, “Jiro doesn’t know all the smugglers out there,” she said. “I have a train I must catch though to make my boat. Take care of him Shiro, and Kenta,” his mother turned to him and dropped down to look him in the face. “Listen to these people, they are your family, and your father will care for you and teach you as a father should.” Kenta nodded, and his mother ruffled his hair before kissing him on the cheek. Standing she looked at the other adults, “Hopefully one day I will be able to return and see him, until then,” his mother stopped and the man, his father continued.
“Until then he is family,” the man said, “and the Takamachi family stands as one.” The other woman and the girl nodded at this statement causing his mother to smile before bowing and leaving. Once his mother was gone his Father turned to him and running another eye over him grunted, “Very well then, Kenta,” he pointed at the older woman. “This is my wife Mami,” the woman bowed politely, and Kenta returned it properly, “And this is our daughter Hitomi.”
The girl walked over and without warning hugged him tightly around his chest, “Yay, I now have an onisan,” the girl bubbled happily, “Aiko-chan will be so jealous.” Kenta could only smile as he wrapped his arms around his new sister.
**Ten Years Later**
“You do this,” Hitomi said from off to one side while Kenta went through the family forms against the training dummy. “and Pops is going to go ballistic. He might kick you out of the house for it.”
“He was my best friend,” Kenta grunted out between strikes, “and Jiro just killed him like you would kill a rabid dog that got close to the little children.” Kenta lashed out with another series of blows, shattering some of the wooden poles that were the strike points on the dummy, “Besides, I’m not going to down there to join one of the gangs, just to exact payment for Toji’s death.
Hitomi shook her head and let fly with the throwing knife that had been flipping between the fingers of her hand. “It won’t matter Kenta,” she said pulling another from up her sleeve. “It won’t be a sanctioned action, and thus he is going to blow his top.”
“Who is going to blow their top,” their father’s voice said entering the dojo causing both teens to jump to stop what they were doing to spin to face their father. “And why,” the elder man continued, “would this person blowing their top matter?”
Kenta and Hitomi locked eyes for a moment and Hitomi’s silent, slight shrug told Kenta she had no idea how long the old man had been listening. “Well you blowing your top is very significant father,” Kenta answered honestly.
The elder man smiled wryly and nodded, “Indeed it would be my son,” Shiro said. “But why would I blow my top, have either of you done something that would anger me?”
“Not that I know of father,” Hitomi said sliding her throwing knife back into its arm sheathe. “But some news that has recently come to Kenta has the potential of rousing your anger should it be acted upon.”
Their father grunted in thought, and then spoke. “You seek to take the Yakuza’s bounty on Jiro then,” was all he said.
“Not for the money, nor for the Yakuza’s sake,” Kenta replied, “Toji was a friend back then, and he leaves behind both a sister and a wife.”
“A wife,” his father said, “at your age?”
Kenta shook his head, “He was a year older than me, and his wife is American born. They met when she came to Japan to look into her heritage.” His father lifted an eyebrow in question, “I don’t know if they were married yet, but I do know they were expecting a little girl soon.”
His father looked away for a moment, obviously in thought, “You would take the life of one you looked upon once as family, and then what, give the woman and her child the money, hoping they could go back to her parents in America?”
“Is there a better way for justice to be served father?” Kenta asked. “If so, then please, for the sake of all the spirits tell me so I may act and bring peace to the soul of one I still think of as a brother.”
His father sighed, “Give me three days my son,” his father said softly as he turned toward the family shrine at the other end of the dojo. “In three days, I will either have an answer, or else I will give you my blessings.”
“Thank you, father,” Kenta said bowing.
“Don’t thank me yet boy,” the old man said with almost a snarl, “you may find that my way is to leave it be and let others handle it. Vengeance is not something we practice here, nor do we seek death for the sake of our own hearts.” The two teens bowed, and their father closed the shoji that separated the dojo from the shrine area.
“I don’t think you are going to get what you want Kenta,” Hitomi said as she walked to the target board and retrieved her throwing knife.
“And yet I have a good feeling about this,” Kenta countered smiling as he withdrew the boards from the strike training dummy and replaced them by sliding in new ones. “He will find a way to see Jiro dead, and then maybe my mother can return to see me.” Hitomi only sighed before she left the dojo.
**Three days later**
“Walk out that door and you will never be welcome here again,” Shiro’s voice was as cold and sharp as the steel that made his blades. “Your mother wanted me to keep you out of that life, and I have done all I could over the years to do just that. That your friend died is a tragedy, but killing Jiro won’t bring him back, and it won’t bring peace to his wife and daughter. Nor will it protect them.”
“And so another death goes unavenged father?” Kenta’s voice was just as cold as their father’s. “I cannot continue to do nothing, and Jiro’s death solves so many people’s problems.”
“And you must be the person who brings about that death?” his father asked. “When was it appointed that you, Takamachi Kenta, was to be the executioner, the final arbiter of justice for the spirits of the dead?”
“Never,” Kenta answered. “And yet there he sits, the people he can reach cowed and fearful of him, or else on the run and hiding. No more father, I can let it stand no more.”
“Then go, willful child,” his father said in a growl, “but never return to this home or this dojo, you are no longer welcome here.” Kenta nodded and stomped out of the dojo, grabbing a bag of clothes that he had put aside in anticipation of the trip. He never heard his father’s final words of, “Spirits protect you my child,” as he left.
**
Lung picked up the phone from his desk and punched the auto-dial. Two rings later a young woman’s voice answered. “No Miranda I’m fine,” he said gently. “I found out something yesterday and there was a bit too much celebrating it after work.” He listened to the young woman on the other end of the phone, mostly nodding to himself. “That’s fine thank you, now please, put her on.” The voice on the other end changed to that of a small child and Lung smiled. “Hello sweetie how was your day?” he asked. After listening to the child chatter away on the other end for a few minutes, mostly spent nodding to himself as he was berated, he said, “I know sweetie, I’m sorry, I’ll try not to let it happen again alright?” The response made him smile. “Alright, I have to get back to work, but maybe soon I’ll have a surprise for you.” The chatter on the other end made him smile, “Well I can’t tell you silly,” he answered, “then it wouldn’t be a surprise. I love you.” He finished and after the voice on the other end answered him, he hung up the phone. Pushing the intercom button, he spoke his assistant, “Souta, I need you to get me some contact information for the Takamachi girl.”
“Right away Lung-sama” the person on the other end of the intercom replied causing Lung to sit back and relax a bit. Soon niece, he thought, soon you will have more family than you ever thought you might.
Wolf wins every fight but the one where he dies, fangs locked around the throat of his opponent.
Currently writing BROBd
Currently writing BROBd