Yin 2: Friendly Advice

A visit from an old friend reveals a new one's gone missing.

Sunlight filtered in from the window, despite the curtains being drawn. It seemed Takamura was too cheap to invest in curtains that actually completed their use. Or maybe it was just a tactic to get her patrons out quickly, Kyo wasn't sure. It was probably both.

 

Groaning, he rubbed lazily at his eyes, his head throbbing all the while. He shouldn't have had too much to drink. Yet still, he could clearly remember last night, especially towards the end. There had been a sword, he recalled, one that seemed to call to him. It was an exquisite sword, and, despite not knowing a thing about it, he felt as though it wanted him to wield it. Almost as if...he rightfully owned it.

 

'But I don't,' Kyo reminded himself. He didn't know why that sword was so important, he just knew that it was. He had to find out more.

 

Sitting up, he blearily glanced around the bright room. It was way past sunrise, that's for sure. He could get his keys back from Takamura, at least. The room was oddly silent, and he realized why.

 

"Hatsumomo," he called. He didn't hear a response. "Hatsumomo?"

 

"She left, boy," a voice said, nonchalantly. Takamura. "Hours ago, while you were still snoring."

 

Kyo turned to face the doorway, and there stood the innkeep, a different kimono hanging elegantly off her body. This one was silken, white with brilliant pink roses blooming along vibrant green vine-like stems. She wore a cerulean obi sash around her waist, emphasizing her figure. Her hair was done up once more, and since he didn't spot her kiseru, he knew that it must've been back to its function of keeping her hair in place. Kyo had to admit, Takamura looked as pretty " and intimidating " as ever.

 

"Takamura," he began, but was cut off when he saw her indicate the bathroom to the right.

 

"Freshen up and come down for breakfast," she said, leaving no room for argument. "You have five minutes."

 

And with a swirl of her kimono, she was gone, her geta shoes clacking softly against the wooden floor. Kyo tossed the covers off himself, and trudged over to the bathroom. He saw an unopened toothbrush box and smiled to himself. Takamura always seemed to be several steps ahead of him, which he supposed was a good thing. Lathering an ample amount of toothpaste on the brush and running it under a bit of cold water, Kyo set to preparing himself for breakfast. All the while, he was thinking of Takamura's words regarding the sword's history.

 

It had been forged by a demon, she said, and anyone who dared to unsheathe it would be forced to slaughter everyone, regardless of your relation to them. Kyo didn't doubt Takamura's words; after all, he had felt how powerful the sword was while it was just sitting there, perched on the wall. He didn't think he could stay away from it, though. Kyo was curious to a fault, much like a cat, and that sword was simply far too tempting to ignore, caution be damned.

 

Seven minutes later, he deemed himself presentable. He patted his right back pocket, and felt it empty. His wallet was missing. He frowned. If he had to guess, it was Hatsumomo who took it. He sighed, and headed down for breakfast. Out the room he walked, and he took the first step down...only to slide the rest of the way.

 

The stairs had become a slide.

 

"Aiii!"

 

Kyo slid down the now ramp-like stairs, banging into the wall, slamming into the railing, and landing in a heap at the foot of what were stairs. A lot of his body ached, and the pounding in his head, which hadn't quite gone away, was now throbbing worse than ever. He just lay there, waiting for the pain to pass. "How the hell did that happened? What happened to the stairs?"

 

He heard a pair of feet clacking towards him. He could tell it was Takamura, from the sound of her gait and her wooden geta. "You were late," she said, gazing down at him. "I told you five minutes. You took seven. Now get up."

 

"Nani? You changed the stairs because I was late??"

 

"I do not believe I stuttered, Kyo-san. I do believe, however, that I asked you to get up."

 

"My body hurts too much to stand."

 

Takamura turned a stern stare on him. A flurry of movement from her kimono sleeve revealed a dagger, which she threw with no hesitation towards Kyo's throat. The boy barely whirled out of the way before the blade impaled where his throat had been moments before, Kyo having been seconds away from death. His bewildered eyes turned on Takamura.

 

"You tried to kill me!"

 

Takamura smiled slightly. "And now you're up. Let us go break our fast." She stooped down, retrieving the blade, which disappeared before Kyo saw where it went. He assumed it went back up her kimono sleeve. She shuffled away, Kyo staring slack-jawed in her wake. A few seconds later, he hastily got up and limped after her. He didn't want a repeat of what had just happened. And with Takamura, it was clear that that was entirely possible.

 

The bar was buzzing with clientele, eating breakfast items like steamed rice, natto, a small portion of fish, and miso soup of varying ingredients. Kyo stared at wonder in the room buzzing with talk, speaking in hushed tones with Takamura.

 

"What is this, a bed and breakfast too? What don't you own, Takamura?"

 

She gave a demure smile, responding, "Of course, Kyo-san. This is an inn, after all." Takamura gestured to an empty table near the back of the room, with the same food items displayed as on other tables. Kyo winced as he sat down, his body still sore from his tumble, sitting on his legs. While staring at the food, he realized just how hungry he was. A sudden thought struck him.

 

"I don't have any money. Hatsumomo took my wallet."

 

"The food's already paid for."

 

Kyo raised a quizzical eyebrow. "What? By who? I thought whoever was receiving the service had to pay?"

 

"Hatsumomo ordered the food for herself and paid for herself. You just happen to be the one eating it."

 

Kyo shook his head. What a mysterious woman Takamura was. He didn't know how her mind worked. Grabbing a pair of chopsticks, he bowed before saying, "Itadakimasu. Thank you for the food." He broke the chopsticks apart, and began to eagerly eat his food.

 

Takamura eyed him benevolently, pulling out a hand-held sensu fan from her sleeve. She fanned herself as she questioned Kyo.

 

"Kyo-san, you say your brother, Kenji-san, is out of town for the moment. Might I know why?"

 

Kyo looked up, slurping on his miso soup. Was she interested in his past? Or was she simply making polite conversation? He knew better than to deny her what she wanted, though, because that usually meant more unnecessary pain for him.

 

Pausing a moment while figuring out what to say, he noticed more people were entering the inn. A few people stood out from the group, however. Five men and a single woman entered, blocking the doorway. Silence fell like a blanket around the tavern's inhabitants, an unsettling hush. Takamura seemed to pay them no mind, her back to them as she continued to stare intently at Kyo, awaiting his answer. He was too fixated on the newcomers to remember Takamura's question.

 

The single woman of the group seemed to be in front, and Kyo immediately knew she was the leader of the bunch. She wore business attire, an elegant black jacket and dress pants, as well as a red shirt. Her jacket was unbuttoned. She wore black high heels, and on her face were a pair of dark sunglasses. Her lips were a brilliant shade of red, the work of lipstick. Her hair was unencumbered by a tie or anything of the sort, so it cascaded down her back freely, shiny and black. Her face was pretty, but it was an austere sort of beauty. She didn't seem to be the sort to play games or take no for an answer.

 

Her companions were men of varying heights and weights, though they all seemed to be donning black business suits and sunglasses. One even had a scar clearly visible on his throat; how he had survived a throat wound, Kyo wondered. It looked to be pretty deep, judging by the scar.

 

"Kyo-san."

 

Kyo's attention snapped back to Takamura, an annoyed expression on her face. "I asked you about your brother Kenji-san. It's rather rude to not answer questions, especially when your host asks them."

 

Takamura picked up a pair of chopsticks, and snapped them apart. She began to eat the food as well, still awaiting his answer. Even then, she somehow managed to make simply eating food seem elegant. Kyo was more than distracted, however, by the people at the door.

 

The room was still silent, aside from the sounds of Takamura's eating. Kyo opened his mouth and began to point to the people, but Takamura cut him off.

 

"Don't bother. They are of no importance. Eat your food."

 

He wanted to argue, but he knew it would be to no avail. She seemed to know more about them than him, after all. Focusing on them, he noticed the woman reach into her jacket and withdraw a shiny, metallic object. Kyo's eyes widened: he realized what that was. A kunai. He opened his mouth to alert Takamura, but the sharp weapon was already on its way to Takamura's head.

 

Without missing a beat, the chopsticks Takamura had been using to eat clasped together, plucking the kunai out of the air and stopping it dead in its tracks. Kyo stared at her in disbelief. She hadn't even turned around. Who was this woman? How could she do that? Where did she learn to do that? More importantly, Kyo wanted to know who the people at the door were. Who were these people? Why was everyone so afraid of them? It was then that the sounds of their approach were noticed by Kyo, and he figured he'd know very soon why they were so feared.

 

Takamura released her chopsticks' grip on the kunai, almost in distaste, before breaking open a new pair as she continued eating, ignoring the group as they neared. It wasn't until that the stopped less than a foot away from her did she acknowledge their existence, still without turning around.

 

"My my, if it isn't an old patron of mine. What brings you here, Misaki-san?"

Kyo blinked. Why was she speaking in English? Was it so that a majority of the tavern didn't understand?

 

The woman of the group smiled, though it seemed more like a sneer. "Nothing in particular, Takamura-san. Just thought I'd visit you an old friend and give you some much needed advice."

 

'Old friend?' Kyo thought. Takamura knew her? What sort of history did she have with such an unsavoury group?

 

Takamura snorted. "It's not particularly nice to attack someone with their back turned, especially in their place of work, doubly so when in their home. And yet now you feel the need to offer advice? Here's some for you: try not to be so predictable next time, Misaki-san. You're still a hundred years too early to kill me with my back turned. Where are your manners? If you're going to even try to kill me, you should at least break bread with me first."

 

The woman, Misaki, placed a hand on her hip, the smirk still on her face. "You speak of manners, Takamura-san, yet you're speaking to an old friend without even turning to acknowledge them. I would imagine a hostess to welcome clientele with every grace, as opposed to not even giving them the courtesy of seeing your face."

 

Takamura placed down her chopsticks neatly, picking up her hand-held sensu fan as she turned in her seat, crossing her legs. All but her eyes were hidden behind the fan, and Kyo felt a bit giddy inside. While she did indeed turn to see them, she still denied them the luxury of seeing her full face. Takamura was an interesting woman, of that there was no doubt.

 

"You see what you know, Misaki-san. I'm quite sure you shan't forget my face, old friend. Just as I am not likely to forget your eyes, covered up as they are."

 

"Common courtesies should always be observed, Takamura-san. I'd expect you, iron-will as usual, to understand that more than anyone." The woman snapped a finger, and one of the men with her instantly placed a chair behind her. Not a second after she had snapped, she made to sit down and did so swiftly and smoothly, crossing a leg over the other. 'She has total control,' Kyo realized, 'she has trained them well.'

 

"How have you kept yourself, Takamura-san?" the woman questioned, a mockingly polite tone used. "I can see that your business--" she glanced around, almost in distaste, with several patrons turning away from her gaze instantly -- "...is booming."

 

"There is always a need for a place to stay, saké to drink, and breakfast to eat. Just as there is, I suppose, a need for your thug group to recruit more riff raff."

 

The woman raised a fine eyebrow, arching it in displeasure. "Riff raff?" She chuckled lightly, and Kyo could tell that there was barely any mirth in her tone. "You did not think so all those years ago when you used to run with us."

 

Takamura worked with a gang. Kyo didn't know how to feel. He couldn't believe it. Righteous, good-intentioned, tradition-oriented Takamura...a gang member? He couldn't possibly imagine it. But how had she stopped the kunai? Where did she learn such tricks? If she had been in a gang, it would've explained so much...

 

The innkeeper stared directly into the sunglasses of the female Yakuza member. "Key words being 'all those years ago,' Misaki-san. I've wisened up. Something, clearly, you haven't. A pity. You had such a bright future ahead of you, as the daughter of the Commissioner General of the National Police Agency." She gave Misaki a derisive look. "How proud your father must be."

 

A loud thud resounded. The woman raised a hand; one of her men had stomped the ground in anger at Takamura's words, but Misaki prevented him from doing anything. Takamura glanced up at the man: he was the one who sported the ghastly scar on his large, pale throat.

 

"Oh, what's this?" Takamura raised her own eyebrow. "Hiroki-san has a problem with what I said? Well then, by all means, come correct me. But I suggest you remember,' she said, her voice gaining an icy quality that gave Kyo shivers, "who gave you that scar in the first place."

 

It seems that the shiver wasn't only shared by Kyo; the big man, Hiroki, paled incredibly and took a step back. After hesitating a moment, he bowed deeply, his bald head dimly reflecting the light above.

 

"Gomen nasai, Takamura-sama."

 

"Don't let it happen again, Hiroki-san."

 

"Yes, Takamura-sama." He took his place behind Misaki once more. Misaki simply frowned in distaste.

 

"She is far superior to you, Hiroki, so you should have known better than to even think you could handle her. You are to show respect to your adversaries, Hiroki, no matter whether or not they deserve it. You know our organization's policy."

 

Hiroki said nothing. Kyo figured that he knew better than to speak out again.

 

Takamura gazed once more at her old colleague. "I suppose the old adage rings true. There seems to be honour among thieves, no matter how distorted." She paused before continuing. “Why are you here?"

 

Misaki smiled her polite little smile. "The kumicho wants to recruit your services. You know how valuable you are, Takamura-san, especially with the information you possess and skillset you created. Not to mention you are the granddaughter of the famed Shinto Priestess of Miyakojima, Observer of Okinawa. Her shamanic abilities were of legend, and it has been passed down to you. Your grandmother trained you in the arts of the itako. You were skillful to the point of mastering it, even while fully-sighted, a feat as rare as the sun rising in the west and setting in the east. None before you have had the level of prodigious ability to do so, and surely none after you shall either. Our kumicho, the boss, wants your abilities for the benefit for the organization. He sent me to deal with you, as we are old friends, and you'd be more willing to listen." She paused, removing her sunglasses, revealing brilliant cerulean eyes. Misaki looked directly in her old companion's onyx eyes, a silent plea resting in them. "What is your answer?"

 

Takamura gazed calmly at her contemporary, snapping her fan shut. Wordlessly, she pulled the kiseru from her hair, letting it tumble once more, and held the tip in her mouth while lighting it with her free hand. Putting the flame away, she inhaled deeply before exhaling, the room quickly filling with smoke. Only then did she answer.

 

"Really, Misaki-san, your boss must be one pig-headed fool. How many times has he sent his underlings to me, only to be rejected each time? Yet he still persists? In all my years under his command, I've yet to see his face even once. Why should I work for a man who won't even show his face? Cowardice, Misaki-san, is not something I stand for. Send the man to me himself, and perhaps I will consider his offer. Otherwise, be gone from this place and do not return. You're scaring the customers."

 

Misaki gave a scathing look at the customers, some of which had hastened to leave during their exchange. She turned to look at Takamura once more.

 

"I offer you this advice as a friend. Do not anger the kumicho. He has men everywhere, and where men cannot go, he has women. You would be wise not to upset him, Takamura-san, for I fear for your safety. You were a good friend, and even now I hold you in high respect. It's a pity that our lives were destined to lead like this. Even so, I can't help but feel I've made some bad choices. I know all about bad choices, Takamura-san, and your decision is one of them. Leave while you can."

 

Misaki rose, her men following her. She made it to the door, before turning back to stare directly at Kyo. "Be more careful, Kyo-kun," she stated, before disappearing onto the streets, her men behind her. The tavern burst into discussion once more, patrons visibly relieved that the gang was gone.

 

Kyo was surprised, wondering how she knew his name. He turned to Takamura, and was unnerved when he saw her eyes burning with a fury. "W-what's wrong, Takamura-san?"

Takamura's facial expression was grim, as she looked Kyo dead in the eye. "Misaki didn't come to threaten me. She came to warn me. The Yakuza have Hatsumomo."