that won't save us
Draken drove his leader to a strange unknown corner of Tokyo, a civilian street with households and lampposts littering the peaceful yard. If he didn’t know any better, the place chosen was pinned randomly at the GPS track, but this was Mikey, for whom Draken had been following to the depths of hell and back since they were young, even the man’s most whimsical plans had its reasons.
It wasn’t even the place where Mikey usually contemplates and considering how much his best friend needed it for tomorrow’s event, Draken figured he should suggest it at least.
“Not really at the bay?” Draken asked as he parked the car, near to where the residential block began. Maybe he has a hook-up?
“No, drop me here.” Mikey said, then opened the door of the car with the blonde of his hair tied in a low ponytail. White shirt and denim jeans, people won’t recognize him as the boss of the liveliest gang in Tokyo as of the 21st century.
“Call me once you need me to pick you up.” Draken reminded, maybe he should have pushed Mikey on the first option on how to spend his last night as a free man.
“Thanks, Kenchin,” Mikey stepped outside of the mobile and closed the door with a quiet thud.
“We should have had a bachelor party instead,” Draken grumbled as he drove onto the endless night, dreaming of what could have been a crazy night with cold booze and memorable antics. The least he could do before Mikey had a ring on his finger presenting like the smallest cuff in the world.
Maybe Mikey should have agreed to Kenchin’s proposed bachelor night, he had listened to the reasons his best friend listed out. Keyword: listened . In the end, Mikey was a petulant child who needed some peace on the night before his wedding.
His walk was getting rather boring .
He didn’t settle at the pier where he could stare out on the sea, the stars glittering on the surface. Mikey mostly marked the bay as his contemplating spot, relaxing the stress in his mind when facing black or white decisions for the future of his Tokyo Manji gang. Times have proven it harder to escape the radar of police with the technology and whatnots but the underground world grew wiser too. Supply the pockets of the government with dirty money, then it will all just be a futile chase with nobody from involved parties caught. All in the name of justice to the media.
But his midnight stroll was not for a decision itself, not when the decision has been made concrete and cemented. Mikey sighed, fog from his lips as he tried to remember how the hell he found himself in this barricaded situation.
Mikey was going to be married, tomorrow to a nameless leader of this upstart organization——
Cats were sprinting on his feet, Mikey almost tripped from them. A pure black one paired by a white cat with black, brown and mocha spots. Mikey hissed at them, almost throwing them with his sandals until he forgot he wore Chucks for tonight instead of his slippers because I was taking a peaceful walk, remember?
Sounds of fight and shouts winded from where the cats came from and Mikey turned his head towards traitorously to the source. There were shadows and silhouettes under the static streetlights, around three or four tall men. Ah, the typical shit of birds of the same feather fuck together. Or was it flock? Mikey couldn’t care less. What the heck do even grown up men do in playgrounds?
“Don’t you lie to us! Jump up and down!” One of the voices echoed. So goddamn noisy, can’t they see some people may be basking in their sentimentality?
“Take it out already! Stop dilly-dallying!” Mikey stealthily moved a step forward and for fuck’s sake, this boy was ten or twelve and these teenagers ganging up on him? Bowl cut black haired boy was shaking under fear and Mikey almost empathised if only he was not snapping jaws at that age. So he sympathized instead.
Mikey weighed his annoyance more, the teens' raucous airy taunts or the boy’s refusal to fight against the old, he took a step and decided.
“Shut the hell up, you dimwits!” The metal swings from the park creaked and there was a new pair of footsteps on the ground skidding louder. Mikey stalled an audible meter away from the commotion.
“All you ever do is bitching around like some broken toy!” The tone was definitely more grounded, maybe older than the guys then? There was something Mikey couldn’t put a name to, but that voice was so full and threatening. If all of today’s teenagers did nothing but spout nonsense carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, this tone pronounced every word with a punching passion.
The familiar smack noise of a punch whistled in the dead night. Mikey suppressed the smirk lifting his chin, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The new person joining the fray was a young man, looking like a student from the university, was having his ass handed back to him.
The gods have tickled his boredom too much, he couldn’t stop the grin overpowering his lips. Mikey strutted to the scene, the man who intercepted the bullying teenagers on the ground with a bruised cheek.
“What are you doing here?” The wounded man gawked at him, in this proximity Mikey can see the dark blue shade of the man’s eyes and hair. Something akin to the night skies they were all subjected to.
“What,” Mikey rolled the question on his tongue, leaning down to pick up the abandoned bottle of beer lying at the entrance wall of the park. “You don’t like a helping hand?”
Mikey blasted the bottle to the wall, it splintered into pieces with a shattering crash. The bottle broken and jaded with its jagged edges, Mikey regarded the foolish teenagers and the poor boy at the side quivering in fear at what he was witnessing.
Between the teens' chattering teeth at the sight of his wrecked bottle or the boy’s hopeful dependence on his saviors, Mikey smiled and decided.
He’d intervene for the idiot uni kid at the sand, baffled at him.
“I’m not having the nicest night,” Mikey beamed in the way that unsettled all his enemies, “Get lost or I’ll kill you.”
Mikey flicked the wrist where his hand gripped the makeshift bottle weapon, anything could become a weapon on the streets if only people were crafty and gutsy enough about it. The teens widened their eyes at the impression that Mikey would bang the bottle to their heads, they scrambled soon enough, sprinkling dust to the air from the rushing speed of their shoes to escape.
“T-thank you very much, sirs!” The boy squeaked out from behind Mikey and he almost forgot the boy was there. The presumably twelve year old quickly bowed and headed to the opposite direction where the prude teenagers ran off to.
Mikey twisted to the indigo man, ruffled hair and a purpling scowl towards him. Mikey chuckled at his bashed petulant face, unrelenting to lose. Mikey may have understood that it was bad courtesy to take the prey of another, but really, who couldn’t resist kicking off the other pesky presences to stare more at this weird individual?
Mikey towered over him, crouching low with his palm carding through the curly strands. Soft . “What’s your name?”
“I see,” Mikey tested out, “Takemitchy.”
“What?” Takemitchy winced when he stretched his facial features too much. Mikey suppressed the urge to laugh again. But he might sputter out wetly to this man’s lips, bad for first and lasting impressions. Especially if Mikey had no intention to meet him again after this.
“Your nickname, don’t like?” Mikey said, backing up with a hand held out to help Takemitchy stand again.
Takemitchy rolled his eyes to him and stood haughtily, brushing away the dust from his pants, creating centimeters of distance between them. The crickets chirped in the background as they comprehended each other.
“You really didn’t take the helping hand,” Mikey laughed.
“Thanks then,” The guy said sarcastically.
“Are you seriously young?” Mikey questioned, his mood ever shifting to a criticizing seriousness.
“Maybe, who knows?” Takemitchy shrugged. “Aren’t you old?”
“I would have argued if I was not getting married tomorrow, but marriage makes you ten times older.” Mikey sighed, releasing the cutting sharp aura out, “This may be the last night I’m young.”
“Congratulations in advance, and aren’t you supposed to be preparing for the wedding instead of sending death threats to gullible kids?”
“I don’t even know who I’m marrying, only guaranteed they’d be around my age. They could be a creep, a monster or a dickhead for all I care.” Mikey grumbled. Way to think about his impending doom the next day but at least this interaction was a refreshing pull from the drowning waters.
“That’s...sad,” Takemitchy said, “I never got to marry the person I wanted to spend my life with.”
Cruel lives. Mikey took it as his cue to leave before Takemitchy spilled more of his past to him, and he was baited by curiosity. Better leave it here, a man to be wedded shouldn’t be swayed despite how temptation asked him in the form of blue eyes, like ocean or midnight. Swallowing Mikey between the seas and the skies.
“May we never cross paths again, Takemitchy,” Mikey bidded farewell, waving a hand as he exited the park. There was a stinging line in his palm, probably to where Takemitchy was boring his gaze in.
“Good luck tomorrow, Mikey-kun.”
Mikey dialed Kenchin’s number at least three blocks away from the playground to fetch him. Kenchin arrived with the sleek sedan and when he settled at the leather backseat, watching out for the stars in the midnight skies before the day of his wedding, a certain thought nagged him.
Takemitchy never asked for his name.
Draken circled through some corners to ward off any pursuants, just the standard routine when driving Mikey. They rarely did this, and maybe he missed it when it was just the bike, him, and his best friend.
So many things have changed and Mikey will be having the most life-turning one in several hours.
Draken peeked at the rearview mirror, noticing the bleeding cut on Mikey’s clenched fist. Not a hook-up then, probably blew steam in a fight.
“Anything happened?” Draken queried. Mikey quipped, mooning at the window with a smile that never reached his eyes.
“Just an interesting night before my big day.”