Koushounin Wa Damaranai Volume 3 Chapter 4

t.i.tle: Koushounin series 03 Koushounin wa Furikaeru [交渉人は振り返る]
Chapter: 4
Page: 107 – 136
Author: Eda Yuuri [榎田 尤利]
Ill.u.s.trator: Nara Chiharu [奈良 千春]
Publisher: Taiyō Tos...o...b..> Year of Release: 2009

Disclaimer:

Eda Yuuri is the original author of this work, and this is a fan translation. Feel free to re-post this elsewhere if you like but please credit this site. I did buy the original copy of this book, along with the rest of the series, so it'll be great if you can support her by buying her books.

By the way, this work contains BL, or h.o.m.o-eroticism.

Oh, bad language, too. Two off F-words. Do I really need to type this warning all the time?

Note:

As I have no formal training in translation theory nor am I an expert in j.a.panese (nor English, for the matter), I cannot guarantee the quality of this translation work, but I promise I did my best.

I have been a big fan of the Koushounin series by Eda Yuuri ever since I got my hands on the BLCDs for the first and second instalments of the series, and have been waiting patiently for the BLCDs for the third instalment onward… to no avail. It has been 8 years since the sensei published Koushounin wa Furikaeru, and I am beginning to accept that there might be no BLCD after all.

Nevertheless, the fujos.h.i.+ doesn't give up. The following is my attempt at the English translation of the rest of the series.

Chapter 4

The changing room curtains opened with a soft swish.

"How is it? Cute? Isn't it cute?"

In the fitting room, Ayaka c.o.c.ked a hip and struck up a pose. Being peppered with questions like that, I could only stammer an answer: "I-It is." Although, actually, she it really did look cute on her. She was pretty and had a good figure, so anything would look good on her, but…

"Erm. But, don't you think it opens too much around the collar?"

What Ayaka was wearing was a black knit top that was tight enough to follow all the curves on her body. Knitted flower motifs decorated the V-neck collar and the hems.

"Eh—, you think so?" said Ayaka. She stood there thinking as she pulled on her collar with sharp tw.a.n.g. Uwa, if she pulls on her collar like that you could almost see her bra.s.siere! That was what the middle aged uncle was busily thinking to himself, but nothing of that sort happened. What I meant to say was, you know, something like a flash of lace was something I was hoping for… no, afraid of, but I wasn’t able to see anything at all. And as to why I wasn't able to see anything, perhaps it was because she wasn't wearing a bra.s.siere in the first place… As I entertained that thought and tried to see if she was indeed wearing one, I realized that every time she moved they would wobble about with an amazing elasticity… No, this won't do. I shouldn't be looking at things like that.

"This is an imported product, that's why… Over there, they wear it with it wi-de open like that. It looks cuter that way, anyway. Look, look, don't you think so?"

Ayaka threw out her chest in my direction, and dropped her hips. Those who know, know that pose to be the nostalgic 90's comedy duo Pirates' signature Dacchuuno pose. I tried very hard to look at Ayaka without looking at them as I answered "Un un, I guess you are right. Perhaps you should get this one."

I want to look. But I shouldn't look. You s.h.i.+thead, I cursed myself for not being able to completely become a lecherous middle aged uncle.

Over two weeks had pa.s.sed since that hittsumi hotpot session, and the calendar now showed November. The wind had also completely changed into a chilly autumn one, and today I wore a high neck top for the first time this fall, along with a pair of fitted pants and a brand new jacket. We’re going on a date so come all dressed up okay, was what Ayaka had requested of me, so I sucked up my lecherous tendencies and came all the way to Roppongi with her.

To call this a date will be inaccurate. I was not a dating partner, but a sponsor.

I thought that I should do something to atone for the trouble I created for Ayaka during that hotpot episode, and when I asked Ayaka for her opinion, she had said, "Buy me clothes, then."

"This is cute, isn't it? I'm really into this design as well. Shall we decide on this, then?"

"Un. You can pick anything you want." I said, as I made my gaze wander about the room. The salesgirl also told her: "It looks good on you, you know."

Ayaka then said, "Okay, I'll take this off." and once again disappeared into the changing room.

The curtains opened about three minutes later. Ayaka, who was back in her original tunic and skinny denim jeans, said with a tilt of her head: "I guess I won't get this after all."

"Eh, didn't you like it?"

"Mm, but I think it was lacking punch, somehow."

I wonder where her high spirits went to. Ayaka handed the salesgirl the knit top after putting on her boots, and the salesgirl looked rather disappointed.

It was then that I saw it. It was just a brief look… but I caught sight of the price tag. I instinctively doubted my own eyes as I saw that it said eighty four thousand yen. One knit top for eighty thousand yen? What apartment is that the rent for? That aside, did this boutique carry clothes that costed that much? Their line-up was casual, so I thought it would have been easier on my wallet, but…

Female clothing is indeed a mystery.

Ayaka and I left the shop, and as we walked with Ayaka hanging off my arm, Ayaka laughed as she said: "All that choosing of clothes sure made me tired. Come to think of it, I already have a lot of clothing anyway. Why don't you just treat me to dessert? I would like to eat at least five slices of cake."

"… Ayaka-chan, um, you really don't need to hold back."

"Hold back?"

"It is true that I'm just a poor, humble negotiator, but I intend to keep my promises. That top just now really suited you. Well, it was expensive, but I can manage somehow… in some way or another…" I stammered awkwardly, and Ayaka laughed in reply.

"So you did see the price tag," she said. "I also saw it in the fitting room, and was a little surprised by how much it costed… That wouldn't do. If Mebuki-san was my boyfriend, or an old man I was going out on a date with for his money, then I would pester him to buy it for me. However that is something too expensive for a friend of mine to buy for me."

"A friend?"

Un, Ayaka affirmed with a nod, and then turned her face up to look at me. "No? Do you not want a friend who is a s.e.x worker?"

"What are you saying? I would never think that way."

"I'm also a bit slow in the head, and didn't attend much of high school."

"That doesn't matter." I a.s.serted flatly. "You won't put out your resume in order to make friends with a person, right? I might even want to ask you if you were okay with befriending a middle aged man like me."

"Age shouldn’t matter too." Ayaka said, as she fluttered her heavy mascara-ed lashes. "Sayuri-san is a friend of mine that is wa-ay older than I am. Friends are about whether or not you trust them, isn't it? When you have a job like mine, it's hard to make friends with anyone not in the same profession. When I meet people I know from my hometown, It’s difficult to tell them what work I am doing now, too."

"I see…"

"And my male friends are hopeless. It's so obvious that they all have ulterior motives."

My heart ached a little when I heard that. No, I don't have any ulterior motives. Absolutely none. I don’t look to Ayaka and think of this and that. I would like to think that it was simply conditioned reflexes at play when my eyes occasionally stray to her chest and her a.s.s. Like the kind when you tap a knee and your leg goes up with a sproink.

"Right now, the only two men I trust are Hyoudou-san and Mebuki-san."

"Ah, so Hyoudou made the mark, too."

"Well, of course. The girls who come from another shops all get surprised by how properly run our place is."

"And it's because Hyoudou is in charge?"

As always, Hyoudou is on the receiving end of a great deal of trust from his employees. Well, even I know that he is very diligent when it comes to his work. Though it got me thinking whether that is a good thing or a bad thing when you are yakuza, but at least it appears that he doesn't bother honest, upright citizens. Or, maybe it is just that I haven't caught wind of anything like that… I try not to think about things like that. If I think too much I would find myself in a loss what to do.

Perhaps it is because it difficult for Hyoudou and I to understand each other. Our lifestyles and our mind-sets are very different, so it is to be expected. The fact that we do not understand each other and yet still sleep with each other perplexes me even up to now, and it is perfectly natural that s.h.i.+meno would worry.

"Ah, someone said that this café was good. I read about it in a magazine!"

Ayaka decided to pull me towards the café, and we went in. It was an adorable little shop filled with female patrons, and I had a feeling that a middle-aged man like me was more or less out of place, but I didn't mind. I ate two, while Ayaka ate three slices of cake, and we both indulged in a second portion of royal milk tea.

In the end, Ayaka didn't get her clothes. I had fun for about half a day so that'll do, she laughed as she said. "It was my first time on a date with someone as smart and gentle as Mebuki-san, you know. I had a really good time."

She said many other things like that, and I could feel tears p.r.i.c.king at my eyes. She really was a very good girl. She probably became popular enough to be ranked number one not only because of her physique but because of that personality of hers.

After a light hearted dinner at a yakitori restaurant at past nine in the evening, I had Ayaka put on a taxi and I saw her off. It had been a long time since I had gone to Roppongi at night. As I didn't have any plans to return to work, I decided to wander aimlessly about the city. It might be necessary to once in a while, walk on your own two feet through a city that changes at a frenzied pace.

Without a destination in mind, I walked from Gaien Higas.h.i.+ Street to the pleasure quarters a street away. Club touts caught my eye, but they were not as pushy as the ones in Kabuki-chō. They approached me, but I smiled at them as I step around them. I don't like to drink enough to go into that sort of place alone.

Out of the blue, I felt a presence behind my back.

There were other people walking in the same direction as I was, but this person was walking strangely close-by. He was so close that if I were to stop suddenly in my tracks he would have b.u.mped into me. I wonder who it was, but I decided to ignore him. Yet he continued to follow me, and he was far too close to be tailing me in secret.

It was creepy.

There was a non-zero probability that I may get stabbed from the back, but I didn't feel any malicious intent. It was almost as if the person was keeping such a distance between us because he hoped that I would notice him… and was waiting for me to stop walking.

"—Mebuki-sensei," the man finally called out to me. Perhaps he had gotten exasperated with the fact that I didn't seem to want to stop. "It has been a long time. You don't seem to have changed at all." His voice was high-pitched for a man, and it was a  voice that grows on you after a while.

I immediately knew, as I would never forget that voice.

"—Asahina-kun."

"Oh? You do remember me."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips as Asahina looked at me. The sides of his mouth were turned upwards, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He was in a jacket that was simple, but of a good material, and slim cut jeans. His light-colored hair was somewhat longer than mine. He didn’t look untidy but he would give you the impression that he was not doing a stable, secure job. Behind him stood a well-built young man.

"I'm surprised. You give off different vibes now," I said as I faked a smile, but I was unable to dispel the cloud of anxiety that hung around me.

"Really?"

When I nodded, he tilted his head slightly, a quirk of his which hadn't changed. However, his face, which still had a child-like quality at twenty-two, had completely changed to a virile, intense one. He was thinner than before, with sunken cheeks. His complexion was rather sallow, too. Above all, his eyes were different. At that time, they reflected self-absorption and foolishness that is characteristic of youth. At the same time, however, they also held an honest regret for his mistakes. He accepted that he was in the wrong, and apologized, while crying, to his deceased lover and her family from the bottom of his heart.

Compared to those eyes which were then overflowing with tears—how very dry Asahina would seem, now. He only smiled with his mouth, and his eyes, drained of emotion, fixed themselves intently on me.

"Five years have pa.s.sed. Anyone would have changed, too."

"I guess you are right. You've become really good looking. You're probably popular with girls, aren't you?" I said inanely.

"I wonder." said Asahina with a curl of his upper lip and a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "If it's bedding partners, I guess I do have a quite few… Hey, care to go for a drink? I'd like to thank you for that time, albeit after five years. I am grateful to you, Mebuki-sensei, since I managed to get off that time without going into jail."

Asahina was behaving as if he was on good terms with me, but at the same time I could sense the air between us crackling with tension. It felt as if Asahina was appraising me.

"It's nothing. I simply did what my job as a lawyer warranted." I said.

"Let's reminisce about the past, then? I know of a good place that has a line-up of cute girls."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll pa.s.s tonight." I ventured, cheerfully.

He was clearly following me. Tailing someone is not something you do with good intentions, and I did not know how long he had been following me. I only just recently heard Saitou mentioning his name, and for the very person to suddenly show up after five years—shouldn't be a positive sign.

"What, how unfriendly of you, sensei."

"I've already quit being a lawyer so I am no longer a sensei."

"I know. You've become a negotiator, haven't you?"

Without asking how he knew that, I answered "That's right," without dropping the smile on my face. It appears that Asahina had run a check on me. I wonder why he had to do something like that.

"Just one hour would do. Hang out with me."

"No…"

Asahina moved closer, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He had grown in height and was somewhat taller than I was. Like a drunkard fooling around, he leaned into me and said, "I would like to talk to you about Saitou, too."

At that hoa.r.s.e whisper of his, my smile disappeared. I turned to look at Asahina as he took a drag from the cigarette he had in between his fingers. White smoke billowed out in front of us.

"Asahina-kun, you…"

"This is not a place to talk about things like that, yes? Look, let's go. Tos.h.i.+, call up the usual place and get them to open up a room for us."

At Asahina’s command, the man whom he called Tos.h.i.+ wordlessly took out a hand phone out from his pocket. I braced myself for the worst. If I were to firmly turn him down here, there was a possibility that he might never make contact with me again. He mentioned Saitou, which means he was a.s.sociated with the scam group.

No, he might be one of the central figures in the group.

Yet, I am not the police. I am nothing more than a negotiator, and I do not intend to go after the scam group. Nevertheless, Asahina was a young man whom I had once appealed a case for, and I cannot leave him as he was.

I acquiesced, and was brought to a sw.a.n.ky club which would charge you a couple ten thousands of yen just for a seat. Asahina, Tos.h.i.+ and I were shown to a VIP room, which was a room with a deep-pile carpet and a leather corner-sofa. A number of women of exceptional good looks immediately took their seats with us. Flanked by two beauties waiting on him, Asahina smirked, watching me as I sat facing him.

"How do you find this place, Mebuki-sen… no, Mebuki-san?"

"Oh, it's great. The women are pretty, too." Seated beside me was a lovely woman in a resplendent blue dress with slits at the side.

"They have more cla.s.s than the ones in Kabuki-chō, don't you think? When you go to Ginza you'll only find old hags everywhere. Roppongi sits well with me."

"You're doing well, I see."

"I am. Look," he answered easily, and showed me the watch on his left wrist.

"This is Jacob Skull. Brands like Breguet stinks of old man."

"Oh? Is that, diamond?"

"Of course."

Judging from the diamonds that glittered on its dial, the price of the watch couldn't have been below three million yen. This wasn't a watch that a decent man in his twenties can afford, yet Asahina took pleasure in the sounds of excitement that the girls made around him.

"That is amazing. Asahina-san, didn't you recently buy a car?"

"That's right, that's right. It was a Porsche, wasn't it?"

"It was a red and it was stunning. I would like to ride on it, just once!"

While tossing off expensive champagne, Asahina said: "Then, shall we all go on a joyride next time?", and the girls became even more excited. Tos.h.i.+ remained silent, and did not drink very much. He acted like Asahina's bodyguard instead of his friend.

After Asahina had finished bragging about his riches, Tos.h.i.+ made all the girls leave. There were only three of us in the room now. I had chosen to drink Oolong tea after one gla.s.s of champagne, but Asahina seemed a little drunk. He looked at me vacantly with eyes that were slightly bleary.

"…You're a handsome one as always, aren't you, Mebuki-san."

"Why, thank you," I answered, simply.

Asahina put out a cigarette which had burnt down short, and attempted to take another out of his box.

"You're smart, you seem eloquent, and champion of justice is clearly written all over your face. Why did you quit being a lawyer?"

"I realised that I wasn't cut out for the job."

"Hmmm. And? What do you do as a negotiator?"

Anything, I answered. "As long as there is something to be negotiated, I take on almost all requests."

"Then, won't you take on my request as well? …Tsk, it's empty."

He crushed the empty packet of cigarettes and threw it towards Tos.h.i.+. Tos.h.i.+ caught the packet like he was fairly used to doing so, and held out his own packet of cigarettes, which Asahina all but s.n.a.t.c.hed up.

"What kind of request is this?" I asked, and from Asahina came a low chuckle.

"There is this troublesome guy who gets in the way of our work. Just the other time, he was a hindrance when I tried to recruit a newcomer."

Needless to say, the newcomer referred to Saitou. I raised my eyebrows slightly and only answered "Oh?" and nothing else. After all, I had no intention of saying anything unnecessary and giving away any information.

"Really, I wish he would give me a break. Right, Tos.h.i.+?"

"True that," was Tos.h.i.+'s laconic reply. He spoke as if it was somebody else's business, or somehow, that was how it sounded. I wonder if it was just my imagination when they looked like they weren't very close at all.

I placed my gla.s.s of oolong tea on the table and asked Asahina, "Were you, by any chance, at that station the day I was following Saitou-kun?" I didn’t ask if it was him who distracted me for a quick moment, before completing the exchange in a blink of an eye, even though it likely that Asahina was the one who rolled the coffee can  in my direction. He would have recognized my face.

"I wonder. What is this about?" Asahina evaded my question, while restlessly smoking a cigarette. From the smirk on his face, it was as clear that my conjecture was right.

"Let's stop beating around the bush. Asahina-kun, I shall ask you clearly. Why are you doing something like wire transfer fraud?"

"Why, do you ask?" said Asahina as he rocked to and fro in amus.e.m.e.nt. "I do it because it is my job. It is a lucrative career, and it allows me to buy diamond studded watches."

"Scamming people is a job. It is a crime."

"To us, it is a job. We make a living off it." Asahina said as he crossed his legs. He was wearing expensive looking shoes with pointy tips. "There is something wrong with the people who get scammed, anyway. They must have really poor crisis management skills. What we are doing is not fraud, but perhaps what you might call a game of wits. We have a tough time coming up with those games too, you know."

"It is a game, you say, to cheat someone of their money?" I asked him quietly. It is no use to get angry at this point.

"Yep. A game. I'm not fooling around, you know. It's a serious game."

"It's not like that, Asahina-kun. Crime can never come close to being a game. In a game, there is a thing called rules which would be disclosed to the two opposing parties. In fraud, there is none. It is far too convenient for the side which does the cheating. And there is no such thing as a game without rules."

"Rules, huh." said Asahina softly, while looking at the burning head of his cigarette crinkling into ash. "A very logical reb.u.t.tal indeed, befitting of an ex-lawyer. However, I already know that in this world, there is no such thing as rules, and all games are partial from the very beginning. Everyone has been dealt a hand with a different number of cards, and those who fight fairly and win are merely lucky."

With a smug look on his face, Asahina returned Tos.h.i.+ his cigarettes and drank his champagne. Without looking away, I attempted to refute his argument. "At the very least, human societies have rules. Strictly speaking, humans created these rules to govern themselves. They invented law, as laws were vital for societal order. Crime ignores these rules. Whether or not scamming people is a game is out of question."

"Huh. Many thanks for your valuable opinion." said Asahina in a languid voice, as he spewed cigarette smoke. "A long time ago I had similar thoughts, too. But I was wrong. Rules don't make the world go round. Something simpler does."

"Simple?"

"Money, power, people's sentiments."

I understood the part about money and power, as it is often talked about. However I couldn't really get the last part.

"By people's sentiments, you mean?"

"It is as I said. Even if a defendant was found to not be guilty in court, the people around him may not forgive him."

"You mean, social sanction?" I said, without much thought, but Asahina readily agreed. "Yes, yes, something like that," he said.

The question what if… started to well up inside of me. That Asahina himself, perhaps, was on the receiving end of harsh public scrutiny after that incident. It wasn't impossible.

"Asahina-kun, after that court decree, you—"

"Anyway!" Asahina suddenly raised his voice, interrupting my question.

"Since I more or less owe you a debt of grat.i.tude, I shall tell you this in advance. Our game became a little too large, I think. I am still in control of this game, but I have financiers too. If you make a stupid move, they won't do nothing."

It was a threat that sounded almost neurotic. It seemed that his mood swings were rather extreme. Previously, he tended towards short-tempered, but it seemed to have gotten worse.

"… So, above you is a mafia organization?" I asked, but Asahina laughed scornfully through his nose and did not deign to reply.

"Okay Asahina, please think this over properly. Those people are professionals who profit off violence and coercion. I can imagine what happens to people who keep company with them."

"That is right. They are pros. If you join hands with pros, you can go about your work with peace of mind. They pa.s.s on to you lots of juicy information, too."

"Don't be ridiculous. You guys will only become their victims in the end. You should stop your scamming operations as soon as possible and cut ties with mafia organizations."

"As if I could pa.s.s up on such a well-paying job!"

"If you are afraid of retaliation, you could request for protection in exchange for providing information to the police. You are still young, and can still turn over a new leaf. If you would just turn yourself in your sentence would also be reduced…"

Bang.

Asahina kicked the table and sent it flying. The champagne bottle fell and shattered into pieces, and broken gla.s.s fragments flew everywhere. Alarmed by the sound, the shop's girls came running in.

"Asahina-san, what…"

"Shut up!" He shouted, with eyes flushed red with blood. The girls quaked, and hid behind the door of the VIP room. There was a glint in the eye of someone of a good physique in a black uniform behind them, presumably the club's bouncer.

"Shut up… really, just shut up. You are being very annoying, Mebuki-san. Truth is, I would have already completely forgot about you by now, but here are you at a time like this, scurrying around and getting in the way!"

"I am okay with being called annoying." I said flatly, without hesitation. "I don't know what happened to you after that, but it's very clear that right now you are going down the wrong way."

"I will be the one who decides what is right and what is wrong!"

"You mean, about the game for which you changed the rules to suit yourself? Of course you would win such a game. Is it fun, winning? If you truly think so, then you are, as like you were back then, a little boy ignorant to the ways of this world."

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

In his rage Asahina attempted to grab me, but was stopped by Tos.h.i.+. In hushed tones Tos.h.i.+ told, "It'll be bad if you create a ruckus here." He held on firmly to Asahina's arm and had him sit back down.

"I got it. f.u.c.k." Asahina cursed as he righted his messed up front bangs with hand movements that can only be described as highly strung.

"Anyway! Don't you go prowling around us anymore," said Asahina as he parted his front bangs.

"Did you follow me so that you could warn me not to?"

"I know that you have a strong sense of justice. But, there are many things in this world that cannot be dealt with by justice alone, right?"

I know that—my eyes replied.

Justice, in a certain sense, is but a fantasy. Its meaning changes ceaselessly with the times and its people, and it is not a concept which is clearly defined. Even I cannot explain what true justice is, or even start to claim that law equates to justice. Be it law, be it order, they are first and foremost concepts created by humans. It is natural that they would be things that were full of loopholes.

"Leave." Asahina motioned towards the exit.

If I remained here any longer it'll only come down to blows, so I stood up and walk towards the exit, as I was told to do so. To my back, Asahina said, "It’ll be useless, no matter what you do," in a voice that rang hollow. “No matter what you or Saitou say, it’ll be of no use at all. We’re not idiots. Right, Tos.h.i.+?”

"True that," was all Tos.h.i.+ said.

It pained me that I couldn't find anything to say.

The only thing I could do was to slip in between the girls in their colorful dresses as I wordlessly make my exit from the club.

–

A few days after I met Asahina, I was sitting in my office in a daze.

I had no urgent work to do, and Sayuri was out delivering doc.u.ments to the government office. Kiyo appeared to be free too, and was in the middle of doing a jigsaw puzzle at his desk. Somehow it seemed too quiet, and the sounds of the air conditioner, which usually didn't bother me, now seem to reverberate around the room.

I haven't spoken to anyone about Asahina, not even to s.h.i.+meno. For the past few days, I investigated his case to the best of my abilities, and came to know a couple of things.

A few years after that incident, Asahina's father pa.s.sed away due to cardiac arrest. Just before that, he resigned from his job as the president of a company. The official reason for his resignation was due to illness, but when I contacted some people in the same industry, I was told that for some time, there had been a stand-off in the company between two factions; those who supported the president and those who supported the managing director, and his son's case triggered his resignation. The conflict within the company at the time was exposed by the media, and together with the proceedings of his son's case, were published in magazines. 'The eldest son of the previous president shoved his lover down the stairs and caused her death.' —these were harsh words, written in magazines to fan the readers' interest. The part about Asahina being found guilty of culpable homicide and not murder by the court was added at the end of the article, almost like an afterthought. If you had only read the headlines you would have thought that Asahina had deliberately murdered her. The magnificent estate which they lived in at that time had long ago been put up for sale, and after that incident, the mother fell deep into depression and was hospitalized.

I heard that she had returned to her parents' home to recuperate after her discharge. When I was able to find out where her parents lived, I paid them a visit only to find that it had become a coin parking lot. I tried asking around the neighborhood but I was told that Asahina's grandmother had pa.s.sed on three years ago and the house and land were sold off. There was no one who would talk to me about Asahina's mother. They seemed to know about her but behaved as if they did not want to talk about her.

Furthermore, Asahina has an elder sister three years his senior who was engaged to be married five years ago. That agreement was broken, and when I tried calling the family she was supposed to marry into, a cold, blunt voice on the phone had said: 'There was no way we would want relatives that have committed murder.' When I strove to remain calm and tried to corrected her: "It wasn't murder. It was involuntary manslaughter,' she hung up on me halfway through my sentence. In the end, I couldn't even dig out his sister's whereabouts.

They had fallen apart.

Asahina's family had fallen apart, while I occupied myself with another job. It felt like I had taken a heavy, resounding punch to my lower stomach. This kind of occurrence, is in itself, not uncommon. Accidental or not, in the case where someone had caused the death of another, the family of the accused usually has to change addresses because they were unable to bear the scrutiny of others.

Human beings, after all, were made from cruelty.

The son of that family killed his lover, did you hear—that sort of lie spreads as quickly as wildfire. How many people would think about or even care if it was murder or involuntary manslaughter?

The ma.s.s media published front page articles on the case only right after the incident occurred. Eye catching headlines such as 'Talk of break-up ends in a rage', 'Gorgeous female university student pushed down the stairs', 'She was screaming he will kill me' and so on, were published, one after the other. By the time the lengthy court hearing ended with the court's decree, the ma.s.s media was already chasing after a new case. It was an accident, there was no intention to kill, and the court has acknowledged that… Yet other than the parties involved, not many people knew about how the case concluded.

Perhaps there would still be people who indignantly say that this is to be expected. That whether or not it was an accident or a deliberate act, the fact remained that he had caused someone's death, and that it was right that he would have to face sanction by the society. Think about how the victims would feel, they might say, anyway j.a.pan's laws are too lenient when it comes to punis.h.i.+ng offenders, they might add.

This may be true. If someone killed someone dear to me… I don't have family left, but say a friend or a companion, even if it were an accident, I may bitterly resent the person who did it. Even if the court were to hand him an extended sentence, I may not be able to forgive him. I may go looking for him, to beat him up. Depending on the circ.u.mstances I may want to end his life, too.

If I were to put these thoughts into action, I would have become a criminal as well. By the time I reach a point where I still wanted the accused dead and couldn't care less if I became a criminal or not, then there is nothing that can be done. This may sound wrong coming from an ex-lawyer but really, there is nothing anybody can do. These are emotions that only bereaved family members can feel that mere lip service cannot account for.

However, for the bereaved family members to declare that 'the accused cannot be forgiven' and for an third party that was not directly involved in the case to declare that 'the accused cannot be forgiven' would mean entirely different things. This third party, or bystander, is not a victim, not even family that the victim left behind. They are not specialists, and are not sufficiently well-informed about the case to discuss the crime and the punishment of parties involved. They are in a position that was free of responsibility. It is precisely because they need not be responsible for what they say that they tend to speak a lot louder.

That being said, social sanction is something that happens naturally. No one can stop it from happening, and in some cases it is necessary. However, it should never be allowed to go out of hand. It is easy to verbally bash the accused which has already been labelled a bad person. It is easy to mistake yourself for 'justice' while brandis.h.i.+ng sound reasoning like a weapon to beat up the 'bad people'. Before you know it, the bas.h.i.+ng of the accused switches from being for the sake of the victim to mere self-absorption in your own sense of 'justice'.

"… am I a narcissist, I wonder?" I muttered to myself in a subdued tone. I wasn’t talking about someone else. I, too cannot declare that I don’t have such tendencies. I wonder if I, too, tend to pretend to be a champion of justice at times.

"Did you say something?" asked Kiyo as he lifted his head from the puzzle. There were puzzle pieces all over his office desk—as I looked a little closer I saw that every single piece was white.

"What kind of puzzle is that?"

"Milk."

"Harh?"

"All pieces are white, so it is called a milk puzzle. It's difficult."

Well, but of course. There were no pictorial clues at all. However, Kiyo's fingers moved at a decent speed as he put the pieces together. I don’t know how many years I would take to finish that.

"Didn’t you say that you might be a narcissist?" asked Kiyo quietly as he continued with his puzzle. His tone was seemingly disinterested, but then again that was how he always sounded If he truly didn’t care he wouldn’t have asked me a question like that in the first place.

"Ah… erm, like, have you ever, for a split second, gotten so self-conceited like you have become completely drunk on yourself?"

"Like, I'm d.a.m.n awesome, sort of?"

"Thinking that you are awesome is still okay… how about something like, I am admirable, I am righteous, I am justice?"

Kiyo thought for a moment while fiddling with his pieces and answered, "No."

I nodded solemnly at his answer. I have not seen this young man being self-absorbed before.

"… I don’t really think too much, that's why…" Kiyo continued.

"Hm? About what?"

"Whether or not, what I am doing is right."

"You don’t?"

"Mm." With a click, yet another piece snapped into place. "I think I make decisions based on my likes and dislikes, rather than whether or not I think it is right… of course, I don’t think you should indiscriminately hurt someone you dislike, still."

That was a long speech, for someone like Kiyo. I solemnly concurred: "Un. I guess you shouldn’t."

"… For Mebuki-san," Kiyo's elbow b.u.mped against a piece, and it fell onto the floor. As it had rolled towards me, I stood to pick up the all-white piece, and walked over to him to drop it into the palm of his hand. His palm was enormous, as one would expect of a person close to one hundred ninety centimeters in height. He looked up at me standing beside him and once again repeated himself, "For Mebuki-san, It might be autosuggestion, instead of narcissism." His light brown pupils were pretty  to look at but seemed to stare right through me, and it was vaguely unsettling.

"Autosuggestion?" I parroted.

"Nn. It looks like you are trying very hard to convince yourself to do something."

That startled me. I was so taken aback that I was momentarily at a loss as to what expression I should put on my face, so I faked a smile instead.

"Ah ha ha… is that so? What could I be persuading myself to do, I wonder…?"

Kiyo is a sharp young man. He spotted my discomposure, and oh no was clearly written all over his face. He must have thought that he had said something unwarranted, as he lowered his gaze and mumbled "I don’t really know."

But I did.

This is about me, so I knew. I knew, but pretended not to notice. Despite being aware of this I knew couldn’t help myself anyway, so I had forcefully stuffed this bit of information deep inside a drawer in my heart.

To trust, to have faith in others, or in oneself, to believe, that I was a person—who is able to have faith in other people.

That was what I was constantly trying to tell myself to do. With all the vigor I could muster, I tried my best to become a person that could easily put their faith in others. Truth was, if I were such a strong person, then I wouldn’t need this autosuggestion. It is, instead, the exact opposite. I was weak. I lacked courage to believe in others. That was why there is a need to constantly tell myself that I should.

"I see… so the narcissist part was completely out of the point…"

My hands were so full with that autosuggestion that I didn’t have any s.p.a.ce left for conceit, it would seem.

"Mebuki-san…"

"No, no I'm fine. I'm good. My heart skipped a beat just now but I feel really clear-headed now, somehow," I said to Kiyo as I patted his shoulder. It wasn’t a lie. I got a bit of a shock when he pointed out something I thought I had kept hidden, but it couldn’t be helped as he was spot-on. Furthermore, I had this feeling that autosuggestion was somewhat better than narcissism.

Rather than feeling elated and going; "Wow, I’m the awesome sort of person who would freely trust others, you know!" it was more like drumming to myself; “I’m going to become a person who would believe what other people say, I’m going to, I’m going to, I’m going to…" That seemed better, somehow, even if  it was low-level conflict.

"Erm." Kiyo looked a little fl.u.s.tered as he caught hold of my wrist. "But I like it," he suddenly said.

"Eh?"

"I like Mebuki-san the way Mebuki-san is."

"Ah… Naw… That is… T-Thank you.”

This was a sudden confession from a young man who wasn’t very good at talking and it got me feeling all self-conscious, too. Of course, I know that he didn’t mean anything strange. He probably meant, I like you as a person, as a superior at my workplace. Kiyo, seemed to have realised that he had said something rather strange on impulse, and he flushed a deep crimson while still holding on to my wrist. He might be someone whose facial expressions had little variation, but he was actually a pretty naive young man.

And just like Kiyo, who was getting redder and redder, my face also started to heat up.

Wah, what is with this strange atmosphere in the room?

Just as I managed to break out in embarra.s.sed laughter, the door to our office swung open with a creak. I immediately a.s.sumed it was Sayuri-san since she was almost due to return. However, upon finding the two of us with reddened faces, two alarmed voices rang out.

"—what are you two f.u.c.kers doing?"

"—what is this about?"

Kiyo quickly dropped my hand with a frozen expression on his face, and I immediately hid the wrist he was holding on behind my back and backed away a step. That made us look even more suspicious, but regret is something you don’t feel before the deed.

Standing imposingly at entrance of my office was Hyoudou with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and small-statured Tomonori wearing a death glare.

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