Chapter Text
Draken drove his leader to a strange unknown corner of Tokyo, a civilian street with households and lampposts littering the peaceful yard.
If Draken didn’t know any better, the place was randomly chosen from their GPS tracker of the car. But this was Mikey they were talking about, for whom Draken had been following to the depths of hell and back since they were young, even the most whimsical plans decided by Mikey had its reasons.
It wasn’t even the place where Mikey usually contemplated and considering how much his best friend needed it for the event tomorrow, 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 ordered, then opened the door of the car on his side.
His blonde hair was tied in a low ponytail. Wearing a white shirt and denim jeans, people wouldn’t recognize Mikey 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 this 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 wheeled onto the endless night, dreaming of what could have been a crazy night with cold booze and memorable antics with their group.
The least Draken could do before Mikey had a ring tomorrow on his finger, chaining their leader with the smallest cuff in the world.
Maybe Mikey should have agreed to Kenchin’s proposed bachelor night a week ago.
Mikey listened to the reasons his best friend listed out. Keyword: listened. In the end, Mikey was a petulant child who required some peace and alone time on the night before his wedding.
But now, 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 its surface. Mikey mostly marked the bay as his contemplating spot, easing the stress in his mind when faced with black or white decisions for the future of his Tokyo Manji gang.
Modern times proved it harder to escape the radar of police with the technology and whatnot but the underworld grew wiser too. Supply the pockets of the government with dirty money, then it would all just be a futile chase for the authorities with nobody from the involved parties caught.
All in the name of justice to the public and media.
But his midnight stroll was not for a decision itself, not when the decision had been made concrete and cemented already. 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 between his legs, Mikey almost tripped from them. A pure raven-colored kitten paired by a white cat with black, brown, and mocha spots. Mikey hissed at the stray cats, almost throwing them his sandals until he remembered he wore Chucks for tonight because I was taking a peaceful walk, remember?
Shouts of a fight winded from where the cats came from and Mikey turned his head towards the source. The playground.
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 a flock? Mikey couldn’t care less. What were grown-up lads even doing in playgrounds?
“Don’t you lie to us! Jump up and down!” One of the voices echoed.
So goddamn noisy, couldn’t they see some people may be basking in their sentimentality?
“Take it out already! Stop dilly-dallying!” Mikey stealthily moved forward and for fuck’s sake, the victim was a boy of ten or twelve years old and these teenagers were ganging up on him?
A bowl cut haired boy was shaking in fear and Mikey almost empathized with him if only he was not snapping jaws at the age of ten. So Mikey sympathized instead.
Mikey weighed which between the two was annoying more, the teens' raucous taunts or the boy’s refusal to fight against the old shitty men, he took a step and decided.
“Shut the hell up, you dimwits!”
The metal swings from the park creaked as a new pair of footsteps on the ground skidded louder. Mikey stalled an audible meter away from the commotion as he watched silently.
“All you ever do is bitching around like some broken toy!” The tone of this newcomer was definitely more grounded, maybe older than the guys then?
There was something about the intruder that Mikey couldn’t put a name to, but that voice was so full and threatening. If all of the teenagers today did nothing but spout nonsense carbon into the atmosphere, this tone pronounced every word with a punching passion.
The familiar smacking noise of a punch whistled in the dead night. Mikey suppressed the smirk lifting the corners of his chin, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The new person who joined the fray was a young man, looking like a college student from the university, and was having his ass handed back to him.
The gods tickled his boredom too much, and soon, Mikey couldn’t stop the grin overpowering his lips. Mikey strutted to the scene, the man who bravely intercepted the bullying was on the ground with a bruised cheek.
“What are you doing here?” The wounded heroic man gawked at him. With this proximity, Mikey could view the dark blue shade of his 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 an 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 deafening crash. The bottle was broken and jaded with its jagged edges. Mikey regarded the foolish ‘gang’ of teenagers and the poor ten or twelve year old boy, both quivering in fear before him.
Between the chattering teeth of those teens at the sight of his wrecked bottle or the hopeful boy depending on his saviors, Mikey smiled and decided.
He’d intervene for the idiot third-party guy at the sand, baffled at his actions.
“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 makeshift bottle weapon was, anything could become a weapon on the streets if only people were crafty and gutsy enough about it. The teenagers 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 as they escaped.
“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 bowed and headed to the opposite direction of where the prude teens ran off.
Mikey twisted to the indigo-haired man on the ground, with ruffled strands and a purpling scowl towards him. Mikey chuckled at his bashed cheeks, unrelenting to lose. Mikey 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 fingers carding through the curly strands. Soft. “What’s your name?”
“T-takemichi...Hanagaki.”
“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, which would be bad for first and lasting impressions. Especially if Mikey had no intention to meet him again after this.
“Your nickname, don’t like it?” Mikey said, backing up with a hand held out to help Takemitchy stand again.
Takemitchy rolled his eyes at him and stood haughtily without taking his offered hand. Takemitchy brushed away the dust from his pants, and created 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,” his new friend 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 argue if I wasn’t getting married tomorrow, but they say marriage makes you ten times older,” Mikey sighed, releasing the cutting sharp aura out of his shoulders. “This may be the last night I am young and free.”
“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 complained. Way to think about his impending doom the next day but at least this interaction was a refreshing pull from the drowning waters of his world.
“That’s...sad,” Takemitchy remarked. “I never got to marry the person I wanted to spend my life with.”
Cruel lives, the two of them had.
Mikey took this as his cue to leave before Takemitchy spilled more of his past to him, and Mikey was baited by dangerous curiosity. Better leave it here, because a man to be wedded shouldn’t be swayed despite how temptation asked him in the form of blue eyes, like ocean or midnight. Eyes which were 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 where Takemitchy was boring his gaze in.
“Good luck tomorrow, Mikey-kun.”
Mikey dialed Kenchin’s number when he was at least three blocks away from the playground to fetch him. Kenchin arrived with the sleek sedan and as Mikey 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 his car through some corners here and there to ward off any pursuers, just the standard routine when driving the boss of the Tokyo Manji gang. They rarely did this before but it was protocol now, and maybe Draken missed the nights when it was just him, the bike, and his best friend.
So many things had changed already and Mikey would be having the most life-turning one in several hours.
Draken peeked at the rearview mirror, noting the bleeding cut on Mikey’s clenched fist. Not a hook-up then, Mikey probably blew steam in a fight earlier.
“Anything happened?” Draken queried. Mikey mooned at the window with a smile that never reached his eyes as he quipped.
“Just an interesting night before my big day.”