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The car was waiting for him. He knew the car. And he didn’t need to look to know it wasn’t Nishida behind the wheel. He snorted.
Then opened the back door and slumped unceremoniously in front of the sixth chairman.
“Ya didn’t have to come pick me up, Daigo-chan.”
Daigo greeted him, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I wanted to.”
Majima crossed his arms and looked out, irritated.
“Tch… Ain’t a pup no more. Could go by myself.”
Daigo didn’t answer. He made a curt nod of his head and the car started. Majima obstinately kept his eye on the window, watching the streets in silence.
The car stopped by his building. He tried not to bolt out. The car door closed behind him as he stood.
Daigo lowered the window.
“Saejima-san will arrive shortly. I needed him for another matter.”
Majima nodded, jaw working, his eye set on his building.
Daigo waited. Watched. Majima wanted to snap at him. He didn’t. He didn’t want to go bury himself in yet another cold silent place either. He craved the streets life. The neons humming, the barkers voices, the thousands of footsteps, the strong scent of grilled food and warm bodies sweating.
But Daigo wouldn’t let him.
So Majima waved him bye without looking and went inside the building. He called the elevator, took the stairs, counted in his head. Then turned back outside.
No more car, no more Daigo.
He smirked.
—
The Majima Family office was dark. Deserted.
No car, no suits, no boy.
It hit Majima like a punch.
Anger started rumbling in his chest, burning all the way to the tip of his fingers. Nishida would hear of his bat again, he vowed.
When he’d find him. He flicked his phone open.
It ringed once. Twice. Thrice.
Majima slapped it shut.
Something wasn’t right. Nishida always picked at the first ring. Any time. Any how.
Had something happened?
He resisted the need to kick the door open, wheels spinning, memories rushing. Memories of another deserted office with the lights out. With a corpse inside.
Majima went in, jaws tight, shoulders tensed.
He heard footsteps in the dark. Mumblings. Something being dragged. A thud.
His shoe hit something on the ground. Nishida’s helmet.
“Graaaah….”
The groan startled Majima. A man stumbled out of the shadows. Tall, large, wearing that unmistakable grey suit.
“What the- Kiryu-chan?!”
Kiryu’s face lifted, head tilted at an awkward angle, face pale, greyish, eyes almost glowing red in the dark.
He hesitated.
“Graaaa…. aaah!”
Majima froze. Blinked. Then barked a laugh.
Kiryu stilled, Majima lunged. They both fell down heavily, Majima sitting on top of Kiryu’s chest. He caught his face, pointedly smudging grey paint with his gloved thumb.
“Hyahaha! Ain’t gonna trick me with my own paint, Kiryu-chan!”
Kiryu frowned, dropping all pretense this time. He shook his head.
“Told ya he wouldn’t buy it. Should have gone with the bomb thing.” Saejima’s voice growled.
“Huh? Kyodai?!”
The lights flashed, blinding him.
Someone yelped. Something tumbled down with a crash and he was sure he heard something going out with a loud POP.
When he could focus again, a banner hung low from the ceiling, half raised by his men. Nishida clung to a half fallen ladder Saejima held with one hand, steadying a cask of alcohol bottles with the other while Haruka laughed beside Yuki, both of them covered in shiny glitters, holding a box that had obviously popped in their faces.
“Majima-san! You came too early!” Yuki snapped, barely able to see through her glasses. “Look at this mess!”
And messy it was.
Unfinished. Chaotic. Absurd.
His hands fell to his sides as he caught sight of the words on the banner.
He couldn't help mouthing them silently.
“Majima-no-niisan… you’re crushing me…” Kiryu grunted from beneath him.
Majima slapped his chest, his grin flickering back, his laugh bursting.
“Don’t ya worry! Can’t die on me Kiryu-chan! Ya already dead remember?!” he cheered. “An’ messy’s just how I like it, Yuki-chan! Boys! Where’s my karaoke?! Bring it on! Tonight’s my freaking night!”