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written-in-flowers · 2 years ago

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Kimura Delivery Service: Part 2

Chapter 2: W is for White Rascals

Pairing: fem!OC x Rocky

Word Count: 11k

Genre: Fluff

Fandom: High & Low: The Story of S.W.O.R.D

Summary: After a life of swinging her fists, Sakyia is hopeful about her easy going job of delivering packages...However, her aunt neglected to mention the "regulars": The gang leaders of S.W.O.R.D. and the undeniable affection they all grow to have for her.

Overall Warnings: blood and violence, fighting, gang activity, crime, mentions of death, multiple relationships, girlboss being a girlboss, not really 'poly' but girl has a string of lovers,

Part 1 <; | > Chapter 3

Tagged: @belle64 @straysugzhpe (if you'd like to be tagged, let me know in the replies!)

***

Once she got a feel for the delivery service, Sakyia began enjoying it more. Her aunt appeared more backed up in orders than she’d realized. Every morning, Sakyia woke up, did her usual routine, put on her jacket and went downstairs. She’d grown to like the Sannoh neighborhood and the people in it. People welcomed her with smiles instead of scowls. They offered her things like bundles of apples for her health or insisted she take a basket of baked goods to her mother. Sakyia had never met such kind people before. Though, with every good aspect comes a bad one. Cobra did not lie when he mentioned the gangs to her. She’d been told what streets to avoid, and what the people wore so should she see them, she could avoid them. Sakyia knew better than to seek out a fight with more than possibly two or three people; she could fight well, but not that well. Whenever anyone asked her, Sakyia said she’d simply drive away if they chased her. During her first week, she didn’t run into anyone particularly bothersome, but she kept herself on guard for the moment it came.

“Just run away,” her mother warned her during their lunch break together. “I don’t want you coming back to me bruised up and bloody.”

“I have no interest in fighting anyone,” she replied, sitting curled on her barber chair and eating her lunch. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“Mhm,” she responded, unconvinced as she prepared her station for her next client. “I see you with that punching bag you found outside. You’re always punching and kicking it like it owes you money.”

She and the other girls chuckled. The Ichiago Milk girls came to the salon as they’d said. Askua sat at a nail station, having a young woman working on her fingers. The twins both finished having their hair styled, and Junko took their place. Sakyia liked having them around; they treated her as one of them and her mother liked them.

"It's good exercise," Sakyia said. "It keeps me in shape."

And also prepared. She still hadn't told her mother about the SWORD gangs, though she'd approached Hana about it.

"You know if I'd told you in front of your mother, she'd forbid it. I didn't tell you because I thought you might say 'no'. If you want to back out, then I'll understand."

Sakyia kept the job when her aunt raised her pay. She'd told Hana if fighting off thugs is a job hazard, she'd be compensated for it. Still, she kept it from her mother. Finishing her lunch, she checked her phone. She had a pick up order in half an hour, but she could do a drop off or two beforehand.

"Pfft, as if you need it," said Junko. "Your body's perfect. All the boys are always staring at you."

"I don't do it for boys, Junko."

"They stare anyways," she replied, staying still in her seat as the stylist started on her hair. "I wish I knew how you did it. All of them like you."

Sakyia knew she said this from a place of curiosity, not jealousy. Shiba and Oshiage told her Junko could be boy crazy, often falling in love with any pretty boy she sees. Sakiya didn't understand it at all, but she didn't judge.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't pay much attention to them."

"They pay attention to you," said Shiba with a teasing smile.

"Especially Cobra," her sister gave an identical smile. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking at him."

"It's super cute," Askua said.

Sakyia blushed, focusing on her phone instead. "Hush, you two," she said in a small voice, hiding her face. "He's not interested, and I wouldn't care if he was. He's just a guy."

A guy who made her feel 'the butterflies' whenever he came around.

"Ugh, you're so stubborn, Sakyia," Junko huffed. "If I even looked half as good as you…"

"You're beautiful as you are, Junko, and someone will see that soon," she assured her. "In the meantime, I gotta go."

"Already?" The twins said in unison.

"I have a long list," she said. She kissed her mother's cheek, "I might be back late. Don't wait for me."

"You know I will anyway."

She said farewell to the ladies and began her route. Sakyia went about her day making deliveries and picking up packages to take across town. Regulars already knew her by the second week, and prepared their "tips". These usually came in forms of money, but she sometimes received other items: charms, trinkets, books, or groceries. Sakyia didn’t mind. She’d grown to enjoy it honestly. It became one of the little perks of having the courier position. She usually came home with money to put in the box underneath her mother’s bed, and other things.

A particularly heavy package made her pause midday. On the top, the receiver’s name was printed on the sticker label. ‘Asahina Yamato, Asahina Motors.’ Yamato happened to be Cobra’s best friend who ran a mechanic shop. This means the possible chance of running into Cobra there. She couldn’t avoid delivering it; she thought about what the other ladies said about him: how he often looked at her when she didn’t notice and his obvious interest in her. Sakyia doubted it, but she couldn’t help flexing her scarred hand when she thought about him. Not many asked about her scars. Usually because they didn’t notice them, but Cobra’s too observant for her.

She put the mechanic shop in her navigation app, and headed there. The garage door remained wide open, and she saw a trio of motorcycles parked out front. Much like the rest of Sannoh, the building appeared old needing a fresh coat of paint and cleaner windows. Sakyia liked it this way. It reminded her of home, strangely enough. She parked her scooter near the garage entrance, and peeked inside to see a seating area with two worn out couches and a low coffee table. On one of them, she saw Yamato cleaning an engine part with a rag. On the other, she saw Cobra. She took a second to observe him: he leaned back on the couch, smoking a cigarette and relaxed. He appeared to be in thought, deep thought from what she guessed. Yamato didn’t seem to mind since the engine part kept him occupied. She wondered what he could be thinking about. She knew almost nothing about him, but if she learned things about him then he’d have to learn about her. She didn’t know if she wanted to share anything personal about herself.

“I’m glad Noboru is back and well,” said Yamato. “I hope he’s right about the casino project and Kuryu.”

“He is,” Cobra responded. “Kuryu is going to destroy this town and rebuild it; we can’t let them do that. It’ll ruin so many people’s lives, and change everything.”

“It doesn’t help that it’s corrupted as well.”

Kuryu? Casino project? She’d never heard anything about it. Her aunt told her that some parts of the town went under redevelopment, and housing costs went up. Luckily, it’d yet to touch the delivery business. The news disheartened her slightly. She’d only arrived in the town. Moving a second time won’t be easy for her, her mother, or Auntie Hana.

“Are you going to keep standing in the doorway or actually come inside, Sakyia?” Cobra’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she blushed bashfully.

“Oh, um, well, uh…I didn’t want to interrupt anything important,” she said, shuffling into the light. “I have a package for Yamato.”

“Oh good, it’s here!” Yamato smiled, standing up immediately. “It’s the new part for my bike,” he told them both, coming outside to see the heavy box in her cart. He lifted it out for her to bring inside, “I couldn’t find it anywhere in town, so I had to order it. Now I can get rid of that annoying rattling sound.”

“If you just sign here,” she felt Cobra’s eyes on her, and ‘the butterflies’ came back, “I can head on out of your way.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Yamato took her clipboard to sign, and she gazed around the shop. “Your family owns this place, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, my dad did,” he said. “He’s the one who taught me how to fix cars and bikes.” He saw her scooter outside, “Is it running okay? Koichi often had trouble with the wheels.”

“It’s doing okay so far,” she replied, trying her best to ignore Cobra, “It’s old, but it runs well enough.”

“You seem pretty at home on it,” Cobra finally spoke, putting out his cigarette on an ashtray. “Have you ridden one before?”

“Not really, but it’s mostly about maintaining balance and I’m pretty good at that.” Thanks to Jiro and the hours he made her walk on a beam in their backyard. She could still feel the bar on her feet sometimes. “My dad rode a motorcycle, so I sort of picked up tips from him.”

“So, then you like guys with bikes?” Yamato asked, handing her the clipboard. “Cobra and I go riding all the time, right Cobra?” he glanced over at him with a grin, and Cobra returned it with indifference. “You should come with us sometime. Cobra’s bike is big enough to fit two.”

The image of her riding with Cobra crossed her mind. It reminded her of her parents: her dad steering and her mom’s arms wrapped around him, her cheek on his shoulder and a smile on her face. She pushed it from her mind, “Eh, thanks for the offer, but I think I’m fine on my scooter.” She checked the signature, ripping off Yamato’s copy and giving it to him. “Thanks, guys. See ya around.”

Run. Run from Cobra and his pretty, observant eyes.

“Wait,” Yamato called to her, “Your tip.” He dug in his overall pocket to hand her a few bills, which she pocketed. “Are you hungry?” He asked her, “My mom made some rice balls.”

A snack did sound good. The constant traveling and moving about worked up an appetite. But, this meant being in Cobra’s presence. “Sure,” she shrugged, “I could eat.”

"Great! Have a seat. I'll be back."

Cobra followed his friend with his eyes while Sakyia took the couch opposite him. Yamato's absence left a tense air between them. He and Noboru had been alone when Sakyia rushed out of the gas station. No doubt Noboru told him at least part of her story.

"So, why did they call you 'Viper'?" Cobra asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. When she froze, he said, "Noboru mentioned it to me yesterday. He said you fought in the warehouse fight clubs."

'Fight Club' implies people wanted to be there. She shifted in her seat, regretting the rice ball offer. "People did. I didn't like it."

"Why?"

"Because it was a lame nickname," she said. "They called me that because I was fast."

"I thought you didn't know how to fight?" She saw a shadow of a smile on his face.

"I'd…well…I'd rather not talk about that part of my life," she said, fidgeting with the loose threads on her jeans. "I’m not very proud of it,” Especially after Yoshi. She looked around the garage once more, and saw photographs nearby. She saw a few photos of Yamato, Cobra and Noboru, all smiling and happy. A very stark contrast to the brooding man she’d come to meet. “You’re close to him,” she said, “Noboru, I mean.”

“We’ve been best friends since childhood,” he replied. “We grew up in this town together. That's why we want to save it. It’s our home.”

“From the redevelopment project?” she assumed.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The Kuryu families want to build a casino here, and it’s causing people to move out and abandon their businesses. Tettsu’s family is already thinking of closing their bath house.”

“Hm, what a shame,” she grinned, “I never got to go.”

Recalling Tettsu’s offer that first night made them both chuckle softly. Sakyia admitted she liked his smile. “It really is a shame though. This place was starting to grow on me. Even with the thugs that hang around this town; the people are really nice. I'm not used to that."

"They see that you're a good person," he said. When she turned to him, "It's a small place. Word spreads around quickly."

"Very quickly."

"I'm back!"

Yamato returned with a plate of triangular rice balls. Sakyia reached forward to grab one, and her hand brushed right into Cobra’s. The brief touch felt alien to her, but did not make her skin crawl. In fact, it made her want to hold it. They both blushed and picked up opposite ones. She turned the conversation to Yamato, doing her best to avoid what happened. She asked about his family and his garage. She couldn't help noticing Cobra watching her. When will that ever stop?

"-Then something serious happened with Noboru, and we wanted to give him a place to come home to," Yamato concluded. "But, as you know, he ended up working for Ieruma instead."

"I kind of don't blame him. He must've felt so alone and lost. It'd be like them to corner someone like that," she said. "Luckily, he has you two." Sakyia wished she had friends like that. Perhaps things might have turned out differently. "He did do good things with them, though. He helped my mother and I get away from my stepfather and his debt collectors. Because of his cleverness, I didn't have to fight anymore."

"Fight? You fight? I thought you didn't," he said, bemused.

She needed to start thinking before talking. "She used to fight in the warehouses on the bayside," Cobra answered for her. "Right?"

"Yeah."

"Wow!" Yamato said, eyes widened. "Those pit fights are no joke. I've heard they fight until someone's knocked out."

"Or yields," she added.

"You must be good then," Yamato said. "Maybe even as good as Cobra. You should see him-"

"-Yamato-"

"-He's very fast and precise. He's tough stuff. He wouldn't be our leader if he wasn't."

Clearly, the praise bothered Cobra. Humbleness? Or is he like her and doesn't want to show their abilities yet?

"I bet he is good," she said. "He looks like he could handle himself in a fight."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and realized she'd spent too long there. "Ah, crap, I gotta go," she said, standing up. "Thanks for the rice balls."

"Anytime. Really. Cobra and I are usually here during the day-"

"-Yamato-"

She giggled, "I'll see you two around."

She got back on her scooter to continue her route. Her stomach churned while she rode away. She shouldn't have said so much, but it came out of her. She'd hoped to keep that part of her life to herself; it isn't good and it's not who she is anymore. She worried they might think she's a fighting machine, which she was, but she wanted to leave that behind. She wanted to be normal. She wanted a regular life with regular friends. Her aunt already gave her a job because of what she could do.

Though, she did want to see Cobra fight one day.

Sakyia rode through the day and into the night. Auntie Hana extended her routes after her first week, so she finally saw the rest of Chikuni City. It was drastically different from Sannoh. People had more money here, and the stores did not appear so run down or old. She walked into night clubs and bars full of people, dropping off packages at back doors and meeting the owners. Her aunt’s clients were glad her service was up and running; they all appeared to be too busy to deliver or pick up from her. She liked the people she'd met, though she still preferred those back in Sannoh.

Downtown turned into a different place after dark. The lights drowned out the stars, and the noise of the streets filled the air. People walked out of various nightclubs and bars along the strip, and the atmosphere changed. She saw herself coming to such a lively place with friends, out for a night of drinking and dancing. Sakyia never went into a club before. But, fortunately, her route took her exactly there.

'Rocky Mutsugi, Club Heaven, 8pm.' The address of the place was printed alongside the name. Rocky Mutsugi's package was small, no larger than her fist and fit in her bag. She wondered what it could be, but she wouldn't dare ask. What the customers ordered or received isn't her business. The route took her to a nightclub where the name 'Club Heaven' went across the top in sleek, thin letters. A large man dressed in white stood outside the door, letting in groups of people at a time to avoid maximum capacity. Timidly approaching the front of the line, she showed the bouncer her clipboard and mentioned Rocky by name.

"He's inside. VIP lounge," he answered in a gruff voice.

A crowd of people protested when the bouncer allowed her through. Sakyia ignored them and walked inside. Music blared through speakers high on the dark walls and over the leather couches; the bright white lines shone from columns throughout the room and high above. A sea of people danced underneath colored lights; almost everyone there wore white. From the dancers on platforms, to the bartenders, and to the DJ at his elevated booth, everyone wore outfits of all white. Only a few of the clubbers wore different colors, usually the men, but some women did as well. Sakyia found it odd; she didn’t know clubs had dress codes. She put this aside and searched around for the VIP area. They're usually roped off from the rest of the room, but she saw no such place in the crowded room.

Spotting a man in a white jacket and jeans, she walked over to him. His long black hair curtained his face, and he appeared to be scanning the room casually. She gulped thickly and spoke.

"Uh, excuse me?" She caught his attention, "Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you knew where I could find Rocky Mutsugi? I'm Ms. Kimura’s courier?" She prayed to God that he knew what that meant.

Thankfully, he did. Yet, before he could say anything another man quickly came around the staircase and stepped between them. At least, Sakyia thought they were a man at first. Seeing them up close, there appeared to be a sense of femininity about them. She couldn't quite place it, but she sensed it. The woman glared at her, almost bothered by her presence.

"Hey, he's not interested," she said spitefully. "So beat it-"

"-The hell?" Sakyia instantly shot back. "Look, I'm not interested in him. I'm looking for-"

"-She works for Hana, Kizzy," the man said in her ear. "She has Rocky's package."

The woman's eyes lit up at once and the disgust vanished in seconds. They swept a glance over Sakyia, then she spoke.

"I'm so sorry! I thought you were hitting on my boyfriend," she apologized. "Welcome to Club Heaven, I'm Kizzy."

They shook hands. The sudden change in character surprised her. "Thanks," she said, "I was asking your boyfriend where I could find Rocky. I have his package and I don't want to be late giving it to him."

"Oh, honey, even if you were late, he'd still let it slide," Kizzy said. "He's upstairs. Follow me."

She followed the couple upstairs into a lounge area behind a door. Inside, she saw more dark furniture and a bar illuminated by white lights. On a long couch sat a group of women, all dressed in white. She noticed the men in the room wore white outfits, and appeared to be eyeing her once she walked in. So much damn white everywhere. Her body instantly tensed walking into the room. She hadn't run into any problems lately, and she hoped she didn't have to do it now. She remembered what Cobra said about the gangs of SWORD. These men must be one of them.

She didn't want to fight.

"Rocky," Kizzy said, "Ms. Kimura’s courier is here."

The man in the center of the couch sat up. Blond hair perfectly coiffed and styled, he wore red circular glasses and a handcuff hung from his left wrist. Dark eyes scanned her over his sunglasses, which made her shift uncomfortably. She'll admit, he was handsome, so she understood why so many women sat near him. Something about him exuded confidence and power that attracted people to him. His white coat had black zebra stripes down the sleeves, and he wore slacks. More white. Why so much damn white? It gave her a headache. He observed her for a moment, but did not speak.

"Um, uh, hello," she said awkwardly. "I'm Sakyia. I have your package right here," she withdrew it from her bag to show him, clipboard under her arm. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding on anything, but the instructions said it had to be delivered to you directly," though she couldn't imagine what she's walking in on.

"'Sakyia'...so close to 'Sakura', how sweet," giggled Kizzy. "Right, Rocky?"

"Uh, yes, okay, well," Sakyia stepped forward but Rocky stood up. "Here's…the package."

He stood a few inches taller than her. Broad and smelling of sweet cologne, she didn't need anymore examples of why the women in the room eyed him so fondly. Men like him tended to have strings of admirers. It reminded her vaguely of Jesse, who often had a girl or two following him around. Though, he never paid them any mind, much like the man before her.

"Hana never mentioned her courier would be a woman," he said, voice deep and rough, yet not off putting. "This job can be dangerous for a woman riding alone."

"It's been fine so far. My aunt wouldn't have given me the job if she thought I could not handle it," she said, feeling the need to prove she could do the job.

"Hana is your aunt?" He signed her clipboard.

"Yes. My mother is her sister. We just moved here a week ago, and she offered me the job to help her out." Why was she telling him this? He didn't have to know all that.

She saw a lit up monitor behind her flashing a logo. The words 'White Rascals' went across and beneath a wolf with a top hat and ruffled neck grinned maliciously.

"White Rascals?" she said thoughtfully. "That's your gang’s name?"

"It is," he said, giving her the clipboard back. "You don't sound impressed."

"Should I be?" She asked him.

"Most people are," he said.

"Why's that? Is it because of all the white in here? Do you use it to blind people before you attack?"

He chuckled softly, "Downtown is our territory. Nothing goes on in this place without us knowing about it."

"Except that Hana has a new courier?"

"I knew about you," he said, coming closer. He noticed her body tense at his approach and he stepped back. "She only neglected to mention you're a woman, that's all."

"Does that bother you?"

"Hana's business can be dangerous," he said. "You really shouldn't ride alone after dark."

"Trust me. These little SWORD gangs don't frighten me. I've met worse people."

"Ooh, I like her," Kizzy smiled with a laugh.

"It's not only the five gangs," Rocky told her. "There are others much worse. It's our job to protect women who come into our territory; we make sure they're safe and cared for. You're exactly the kind of woman those people would hurt."

"I'm not made of glass. I can handle myself."

Rocky surveyed her. "No, maybe you're made of something thicker."

"Have you met a lot of gangs then?" Kizzy asked, but her amused eyes stayed on Rocky. "If you're so fearless of them?"

"A few," she told them. "I've met plenty where I came from."

"And where is it you came from?" Rocky asked her, unable to look away from her.

"Chikuni Bay," she answered.

"The warehouses district?"

"That's the one." She double checked her phone. It was getting late. "Well, thank you," she gave a short bow of her head, "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr-"

"-Call me Rocky," he said, never looking away even once. "Stay for a drink. I imagine you've been riding around all day with how backed up Hana's business has been. You must be tired."

"No, thank you," she said politely. "I'm on my bike and it's getting late. My mother will be worried about me."

"Not even one?" Kizzy came to her side, pouting, "As a thank you for bringing the package all this way?"

"That's kind of you," she said, "But really I should go."

"You're free to come back whenever you like." Rocky handed her a small plastic card with the gang's symbol on it. She supposed it's meant to be a VIP card. "We'd love to have you."

"Thank you," she then smirked, "Would I have to be decked out in white too?" She asked, eyeing the people around them.

He laughed, "Not if you don't want to. I imagine you're lovely in any color."

Her cheeks burned when he said this. "Lucky for me, then. White isn't really my color." She stepped away before he spotted her pink cheeks. "I'll see you around then. Have a good night."

"Night, Sakyia."

She left the lounge on her own, going back down the stairs into the main floor. People danced around to the music, sat down on the leather couches talking and drinking, or otherwise enjoying the night club. She’d never been in such a loud place before. She often went deaf in a fighting pit, putting all her focus on her opponent. Here, there’s nobody to fight. There’s nobody coming up to her with anger flaring in their eyes. People are too absorbed into their own frivolity to notice her walking by. Sakyia gulped the dryness in her mouth, and thought she could at least have some water. She turned to the long white bar on one side of the room, and slipped between the patrons lining the front. The bartender, a young man with spiky dark hair, poured drinks expertly and took orders easily. When he finally reached her, he seemed relieved to have such an easy order. He handed her a water bottle, free of charge, and went back to his customers.

Sakyia took a drink from the bottle before she noticed them. A few seats away sat a young woman in a short black dress, her hair and makeup done up pretty for the night. In front of her stood a man in a dark-colored suit, his black hair slicked back from his face, and a smug grin on his face. The woman appeared to be trying to ignore him, but the man wasn’t taking the hint. Sakyia spotted the woman’s discomfort at once, and her multiple attempts to leave the bar. Not that this worked. When she managed to side step him, the man pursued her.

“Hey,” Sakyia called out from her seat, “She’s not interested, man. Leave her alone.”

The man sneered at her, “Ah, what? Jealous that I’m flirting with someone prettier than you?”

Ugh, so predictable. “No, I’ve had a long day and listening to this poor woman repeatedly telling you to fuck off is annoying me.” She looked at the woman, “Is this asshole bothering you?”

“Yeah, he is,” she nodded, glaring at the guy.

“Oh come on, babe,” he smirked at her, reaching for her arm, “You know you want it. That’s why you’re wearing that dress.”

Sakyia grunted, putting the bottle in her bag and walking over to him. Roughly, she turned him to face her. His cocky grin made her want to smack it off. “No, she’s wearing it because she wants to look pretty; not so assholes like you could harass her.”

“Look, honey, if you’re jealous, you can wait your turn,” he eyed her up and down, “You’re not too bad if you take off the grubby jacket and pants.”

“As if I would. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot-pole.” She turned to the woman, “Did you come here with anyone?”

“Yeah, my friends,” she climbed off the stool, not bothering to take the drink on the bar. “I lost them on the dance floor.”

Some friends, Sakyia thought. She nodded to the dancers, “Let’s go find them.”

She let the girl walk in front of her, before a rough hand grabbed her wrist tightly. It happened out of nowhere. She didn’t know what made her do it, but she did it. In a single swing, Sakyia’s right fist landed right into the man’s cheek. It knocked him back to the bar. Having been hit by a woman in a room full of people, she saw the embarrassment flooding red into his cheeks. Adrenaline immediately pumped through her body. Every muscle in her constricted, and she prepared for another attack. He glared at her.

“You little bitch,” he snapped.

He moved to hit her before she kicked him in the groin, which certainly stopped him. Two white figures came to her side, and she shielded the woman from any more attackers out of habit. Briefly, it reminded her of Jiro’s drunken nights; nights where her mother tried to protect her from him. She saw the two figures were Rocky and Kizzy. Kizzy looked at the man with disgust on her face, while Rocky roughly pulled him to his feet.

“Get this scum out of our club,” Rocky said, the pommel of his cane under the man's chin. He stared down at him with pure hatred, as if he'd pummel the man himself. He then shoved him into the arms of two other white-clad men. “We’ll be watching you. If you hurt another woman like that again, we'll know.”

“I’m-I’m sor-sorry,” he stammered. “Please, no. I won’t do it again.”

“You're right,” he said, and motioned for the men to remove him from the club. "You won't."

Sakyia’s hand burned. She’d hit harder than she’d intended, she knew. Unable to assess the damage in the club lighting, she stretched her fingers and winced. Her mother will have questions. She doubted it’d be bruised, but she’d need an ice pack when she went home. Turning around to the woman, she asked:

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” she sighed in relief. “That creep had been bothering me all night.”

“Kimi,” Rocky approached gently, the anger disappearing right away, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it,” she told her. “But thankfully, this woman saw him and told him to leave me alone.”

“From what I saw, she did more than tell him to leave,” Kizzy said, smiling over to Sakyia.

“Sakyia, your hand,” Rocky reached forward to hold it, examining her knuckles. Nerves bubbled inside her stomach at his warm, tender touch. "How bad is it?"

"Not too bad," she half lied. She already felt her cheeks reddening from the embarrassment. She'd never planned on causing a scene in this man's club or leaving a nasty impression. "I'll be okay."

"You can hardly move it," he said, seeing her hand in the light. "Come, I'll get you ice for it."

"You don't have to-"

"-I insist."

Sakyia followed him to a quiet spot of the bar, where the bartender quickly grabbed an ice pack from beneath the counter. He gingerly placed the square on her right hand. The ice shocked her skin, and she almost withdrew but didn't. She shouldn't have hit the guy; it was an extreme reaction, but she couldn't help it. She regretted more with Rocky so close to her. The faint smell of cigars came from him, and she recognized the brand from the scent alone. Iwata Cigars. Her father used to smoke them. She liked it.

"Do you often pick fights with men?" Rocky said, breaking through her thoughts. He was tracing his thumb over the faint scars on her left knuckles, particularly the long one in the middle. "You have plenty of these."

Lying felt pointless. Rocky saw her with his own eyes, and lying only insulted his intelligence. She snorted, "I used to fight often, yeah."

"How'd you get this one?"

"My fist clashed with the guy I was fighting, and it broke the bone." She then answered before she could stop herself, "It took me out of the pit for a while, so it worked out for me."

"Pit?"

She wished she'd never said anything. "Um, uh, well…" she'd already opened the bag, "I used to fight before. Not because I wanted to," she said quickly. "I did it because we were poor and didn't have a lot of money." Half true. "It was better than the other option," a full truth that unsettled her stomach. "I don't do it anymore though. I swear I'm not a crazy person who acts violently like that. I don’t know. I saw that man harassing that woman, and it bothered me. She clearly didn’t have an interest in him, and he kept going anyway. I wanted to help her out and get her away from him. He came after me and I don't know…I didn’t mean to hit him like that; it’s a reflex I suppose. I hadn't meant to cause a scene in your club."

Her stomach flopped admitting the fault to him. Seeing him in the lights, she saw his handsomeness close up. Tanned skin remained smooth and clear, she couldn’t help taking in his eyes and lips. A face she could draw for ages. Brown eyes stared over her features, and it made her suddenly nervous. Surely, he must be upset about it; any club owner would be.

"I'm not angry," he said, as if he read her mind. "That scum deserved it. I would've done it myself if you hadn't taken care of him." He put the pack back on her hand carefully, "What upsets me is that you had to do it at all. I don't like women feeling unsafe here. I made this club so they had a safe place to be."

"You certainly take their safety seriously."

"I do." He said, "I've seen too many terrible things happen to women. I couldn’t stand by and allow it to continue." He then said, tenderly, "Even to the ones who can handle themselves." She hoped the semi darkness hid her blushing cheeks, but Rocky’s vision is accustomed to the lighting. “Who taught you to fight? You must’ve been good if the scum at the warehouses let you fight there.”

“My father,” she answered. “He was a boxer before he retired. The rest I learned from people around me.”

“You shouldn’t have had to.”

Her phone pinged in her bag, and a quick look showed a text from her mother. It's grown far too late now. “I really should go,” she said, sliding off the stool and away from him. “Thank you for the ice, and I’m sorry again about that guy.”

“It’s no trouble, really,” he assured her. “I’m sure we’ll see one another soon. I enjoy your aunt’s service a lot.”

The prospect of meeting this man again blossomed excitement in her. “I’m sure we will,” she responded, “Goodnight, Rocky.”

“Night.”

She felt his eyes on her as she left him. During the route home, she thought about the gang leader. Suave and polished, he’s the mafia boss women write trashy romance novels about. He must think she’s some sort of hot-headed person, which she could be, but she tried her best. She’s not that person anymore. She hated that person.

She wanted to be different. She wanted to be better.

***

Rocky turned out to be one of her aunt’s most frequent clients. She mentioned this a few days after meeting him. Sakyia came downstairs in the morning to start packing drop-off boxes in her cart, while Auntie Hana flipped through her records on the counter.

“Wow, we managed to catch up with Sannoh’s regular flow in such a short time,” Hana awed when she typed new information into the clunky old computer. “Everyone has been raving about you, honey,” she told Sakyia. “They’ve all told me how prompt and professional you are; I told them you’ve always been such a sweet girl.”

“Bet they believed you,” Sakyia said from outside, figuring out where to put the last and tiniest package. “Being on-time is part of the job…” she found the right place and settled it down.

“They said you’re definitely an improvement over Koichi,” she told her when she came back inside. “He used to be rough with the fragile stuff, and he could be reckless on that thing. I hope you’re being safe when you ride.”

“I am, Auntie,” she said.

Hana typed down a few more lines, then printed out the day’s drop off and pick up list. Sakyia took it from the printer to read it, and bit the inside of her cheek. Rocky’s name is on the list. Multiple times. He had several pick up areas around the city, and they all needed to be dropped off at different times. Why didn’t he simply lump them together instead of getting them one by one? By the list, he has five in total throughout the day. She found it odd.

"Auntie," she looked over at her, "Did you do this route correctly?" She showed her the list, "Rocky's having multiple deliveries in one day. I thought most clients put them all at once for convenience?"

She should've known the answer by the sly grin. "Rocky is a busy man," she said, "He owns a club and different businesses in the downtown area. He can't be running around doing little things like this all day."

"But he has a whole gang. Why not let them do it?"

"He needs them at his side," she told her. "Besides, he is a handsome man and a true gentleman. If I were your age again, I'd be going to Club Heaven every night to see him." She then added, "It is the clients who make the appointments. Not me. Perhaps you charmed him in some way and now he's using this as an excuse to see you."

"Ugh, as if. I nearly beat up a guy in his club," she scoffed, putting the sheet on the clipboard. "He probably thinks I'm a psycho or something."

"Nah, I doubt it. Besides, it was Kizzy who placed the appointments, not Rocky, so I'm sure it was her doing."

Sakyia supposed it made sense, but what did she know about business people? She kissed her aunt goodbye, and was heading out the backdoor when she heard footsteps. Looking up, she saw Asuka, Shiba and Oshiage coming down the alleyway. They all wore their Ichigo Milk jackets, and outfits today. Sakyia noticed immediately they were absent their leader, Junko.

"Morning, guys," Sakyia said first, seeing their big smiles. "What's up?"

"We wanted to ask you something-" Shiba said first.

"-But we didn't want to ask in front of Junko-" said Oshiage.

"Ask me what?"

"The twins and I got invited to this party downtown," Asuka told her. "It's a matchmaking party. We usually go to local ones around the city, but a friend of mine is hosting one at his apartment this time. We hoped you might want to come."

"Matchmaking party?" She asked, confused. "I've never been to one of those before. What do you do there?"

"It's nothing gross," she assured. "We mostly just drink and dance; maybe meet a cute guy too."

"We'd like it if you came with us," both twins said together.

Sakyia observed the three of them. She hadn't known them very long, and she'd mostly worked since she arrived. A thought then came to her, seeing their friendly smiles.

"My mom put you three up to this, didn't she?"

"No, not at all," Asuka insisted. "We thought you might like a break from work. You're always working and you should take a break."

They're right, and she knows it. She did consider visiting downtown on her own; possibly going to Club Heaven with her VIP card. The idea of seeing Rocky again made her blush, but she hid it from them.

"Sure," she shrugged, "That sounds fun."

The three women squealed excitedly and hugged her together. Sakyia let out a laugh, squished between them before they released her.

"Is Junko coming?"she asked them.

Their smiles faltered, and they casted glances at one another. "No," said Asuka first. "Don't get us wrong. We love Junko; she's our leader but she gets…excitable at parties. Especially if there are cute guys around."

"She becomes a total 'pick me' girl," said Oshiage. "She tries too hard, and it's embarrassing."

"Isn't it kinda messed up to not invite her though? She is your friend, and I know I'd be hurt if my friends did that."

"You don't want Junko coming."

"Because she's a bit boy-crazy?"

"No, because you can't take her anywhere without her making a fool of herself to get a guy's attention," Asuka told her. "You should see the stuff she's done."

"It'll be worse with you around," Shiba added, hands in pockets. "She'll think she's in competition with you, and be worse. Trust us. We do hang out with Junko-"

"-Just not at parties."

Sakyia did not question them further. Their reasons sounded valid enough, though she had no idea what they meant by 'pick me' girl. They all agreed to meet up at the Itokan Diner, and hurried away. The thought that it might be a joke crossed her mind, but she dismissed it. They've been kind to her since their first meeting; they didn't appear to be the bullying type. Sakyia thought about what she'd even wear to the party. Riding on her scooter, she realized she didn't have many nice clothes. She never needed them before. Her mother will know what looks best on her; she'd do her makeup as well, since she'll no doubt be over the moon about it. Sakyia’s excitement over the invitation tonight fueled her throughout the day; she greeted her clients with smiles and did her best to not appear so delighted even if she was. She has never been invited to anything before. She daydreamed about the party, where she'd dance and drink all night.

Rocky's first package of the day came from his tailor, who'd fashioned him a long white coat with intricate patterns around the shoulders and chest. Sakyia placed it in her cart, then rode downtown towards his club, since that's where the drop off location happened to be. She didn't understand why he'd schedule his route that way, but that is his business. She reached the club and didn't see a single soul outside it; no doubt people came later on to party here. No bouncer stood outside, so she carefully opened the main doors.

Very few lights lit up the room, giving just enough for people to maneuver around the floor. She stared around for someone to point her in Rocky's directions, but didn't see anyone. Not even the bartender showed up yet. She stood around, aimlessly searching until footsteps came from around a corner. Kizzy beamed at her when they saw each other.

"Sakyia, you're back," she said, walking casually up to her. "A drop off?"

"Yeah. From Mr. Nita, his tailor," she replied, holding the box in front of her. "Do I leave it with you or…?"

"I'll take you to him," she said, wringing her arm around Sakyia’s. "He'll want to try it on. Rocky is very picky with his outfits, since he likes to dress well for the ladies who come here." Sakyia felt her eyes shift to her, "He might even ask for your opinion."

"I'm the worst person to ask about fashion," Sakyia snorted. "The most I can say is it looks nice."

"Fashonista or not, he'll like your opinion."

She sensed the words between the lines. Kizzy brought her to the VIP lounge, where Rocky sat with an entourage of people in all white. She looked at Kizzy.

"Is he always surrounded by women?"

"Not always," she then smirked, "Why? Jealous?"

"No, not at all. Just seems like they don't do much."

"They work here," she told her. "Come on, let's give him his new coat."

She brought Sakyia further into the room, "Rocky, Sakyia’s here with your coat order."

Rocky looked at her directly. He didn't wear his sunglasses today; they must be a night time look only. She preferred him like this; she saw more of his face this way. He seemed confused for a moment, then glanced at Kizzy. She released Sakyia and went to sit with Kaito.

"Hey," she breathed, nerves bundling in her stomach, "I have your first package here. I don't know where…"

She looked for a place to settle the box down, since it weighed heavy in her arms. But, it was Rocky who relieved her of the box.

"Thank you, Sakyia," she bit the inside of her cheek nervously. Her name sounded nicer in his deep, gruff voice. "I appreciate it."

"It's no trouble," she told him. She grabbed her clipboard from the top, and watched him hand the box to one of his gang. "It's my job." She then remembered, "Oh, and Mr. Nita said if the coat isn't to your liking, he'll gladly alter it when you come back to the shop."

"Nita is great at what he does," Rocky opened the box from beside him. On several red tissues sat the coat wrapped in plastic for protection. He pulled it out and removed the plastic. It was a lovely coat. It certainly fit Rocky's polished appearance. "He makes dresses too," Rocky mentioned, removing the jacket he currently wore. Sakyia avoided checking him out, trying not to focus on his tanned arms with their lean muscles. Broad and tall, he could encompass her completely. "You know, should you happen to need one."

"I can’t afford anything specially made," she shook her head. Her cheeks burned again thinking about the muscular figure underneath. "It's a clearance rack for me." She gulped and said, "I'll see you soon. I have other packages to get-"

"-Wait," he said. He straightened the long trench coat and asked, "What do you think?"

"It looks good," she nodded, using this moment to look him up and down. "It suits you."

"Suits me?"

"Yeah, you seem to wear lots of, like, cool, sleek clothes and it, you know, looks nice."

"So, you like cool guys, then?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

"No," he said, "I was only curious. How is your hand?"

"It's much better. I didn't hit him too hard, so it was fine the next day." She couldn't help staring at him. God, he's handsome. "I should get going. I'll see you all later."

"Later?" He looked over at Kizzy, who pretended to be admiring her nail polish. He sighed, "You don't have to pick up all those packages. A certain someone should've made the appointments all together, right Kizzy?"

"Hm? Oh, well, I knew they wouldn't be available all at once,” Kizzy replied coolly. “Plus, we obviously tip her more for the trouble."

"It's no trouble," she told him. "Most of my route is in this area, so it won't be difficult for me." Also gave her an excuse to come back.

"If you're alright with it…" then she swore he'd read her mind. In a low voice, he said to her, "At least, we'd have a reason to see each other again."

She smiled, "It is a perk." She then realized she should've kept that to herself. "I mean, um-"

His chuckle cut her off. "Cute," he said. "I can see why people underestimate you in a fight."

"She's like a feisty kitten," Kaito actually said.

"It's adorable."

He thought she was cute! "I should really get going. See you around."

"Your getaway phrase," he said with a small grin. "It only makes you look sweeter."

"Um, thanks. Yeah…"

What do you say to a handsome guy telling you he thinks you're cute? She took her clipboard, gave him one more glance before leaving the lounge. In front of other people, she realized as well. Those other girls sat there around him too. They must've heard him in the quiet room. Lord knows what they thought of it. Sakyia spent half her route thinking of his words and the gentle way he'd said them. He didn't have that creepy, flirtatious tone most men said. She'd felt his voice prickle on her skin, giving her goosebumps.

The second pick up came from a jeweler. She'd seen them place a silver wolf pommel into a fine, velvet lined box for her. She recalled Rocky's cane, and guessed he ordered a new one. She dropped off a few more packages before arriving at the club once more. Rocky sat by the bar with a drink beside him, and puffing a cigar. By the golden band around the middle, she knew it was an Iwata cigar. She smelled the scent of them as she approached, not bothered by the smell but rather his pensive stare elsewhere. Sakyia felt guilty interrupting him.

"Rocky?" She said his name in a quiet voice, as if afraid to disturb his silence.

Her voice broke through his thoughts, somewhat startled by her sudden appearance. "Sakyia," he said, "You're back already."

"With your new cane topper thing," she said, holding the box in her hands. She brought it over to the bar where he took up the cane beside him. “The jeweler said it’s made exactly as you asked.”

She watched him twist off the current pommel and set it aside. A bejeweled wolf’s head sat on the bar next to the box. Made entirely of rhinestones, the eyes shone bright red rubies. It must cost more than her aunt’s store, her scooter, and the apartment combined. She examined it from afar until he opened the second box, which held another topper. A running silver wolf topped the new cane, smoother and longer than the head pommel.

"What do you think?" His deep voice broke her from her thoughts.

"What do I think? Oh, um, it looks nice. The shape of it makes it a lot more useful in a fight than the smaller one," she said, "And I guess it'll be easier on your hand since it's silver and not covered in stones. You could always have worn gloves, but it's not winter yet and I read somewhere you can't wear stuff that's out of season or something like that? I don't know much about fashion, so don't quote me on that-"

His laugh cut her off, surveying her again. She realized she liked him without the sunglasses; she could see more of his face that way. "No, I don't imagine you are," he said. When he saw her brow furrowed, he explained himself, "I didn't mean anything by it. Not everyone is concerned with fashion like I am. My gang complains about it all the time."

"Dry cleaning is expensive," she replied. "I don't hate fashion. I wish I knew more about it; my mother runs a beauty salon, yet I know so little," she laughed sheepishly. "I should get going. I'll see you-"

"-Kizzy and Koto will get them," he insisted.

"I told you I really don't mind."

"I do."

"Why?" She then smirked, "Tired of seeing me already?"

"The opposite," he replied. "I prefer seeing you on my own terms, not Kizzy's." He stood from the bar and walked over to her. The sweet cologne faintly wafted over to her, and she did her best to not deeply inhale it. "What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm going to this party with some friends," she said. "It's something called a matchmaking party? I don't know, but it sounds fun and I don't really go out that much." Not at all, truthfully, but that sounded pathetic.

"A matchmaking party?" He sounded amused.

"It sounds stupid, I know. I'd never heard of them until this morning, but apparently, it's something people do," she replied, hands in her pockets. "They go to them to meet guys and drink and dance, but I don't really care about that right now."

"Because you're not like other girls?" He suggested, hand on his cane and smirking at her playfully.

"No," she grinned, "Because I’m still settling into my place. Dating isn’t really at the top of my list.”

“Hm, understandable. There’s nothing wrong with going to enjoy yourself,” he said. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. Right at the same moment, Kono, a White Rascal, appeared from around a corner. He stood there expectantly, most likely with news for Rocky. “Work calls,” Rocky looked back over at her. “If you change your mind, I’d be glad if you came.”

She bashfully said her goodbye and they parted ways. Sakyia only recalled one other time a boy suggested they meet somewhere: Jesse. Riding on her bike to her next location, her mind wandered back to the time he asked if she wanted to meet him outside the warehouses. She’d agreed because he was the only real friend she had. They’d walked around Little Asia together, a neighborhood known for its roughness and near lawlessness, and they traveled down the boardwalk a short distance from the bay.

It’d been on that pier where he kissed her.

Sakyia didn’t see her mother for lunch. She went to the nearby thrift shop in town to find an outfit for the night. However, when she looked around the racks of clothes, she had no idea where to start. Her mother once mentioned ‘dressing for the occasion’, meaning dressing according to the style of the party. She assumed she’d need to dress up a bit more than she would, but not so much she’s overdressed. It reminded her of Rocky, who’d no doubt know exactly what she should pick. A part of her wished she’d continued her route for him; it gave her an excuse to keep going back to him. Sakyia didn’t expect anything to come from them, but Rocky’s presence brought on feelings so surreal to her. He made her nervous, most people did, yet not tense. She didn’t need to have her guard up around him. But, those walls existed for a reason.

She stood in front of a long mirror, holding a crimson camisole top in front of her. She’d gotten a similar top in dark green; both were made of satin with draping necklines. After looking at photos online, it seemed like the sort of thing a girl going to a party might wear. As she continued her inner conflict, a familiar voice spoke up behind her.

“I’d personally choose the red one. It’s one of Rocky’s favorite colors.”

Kizzy came from behind one of the clothing racks, Kaito following her. Sakyia smiled at her, “Then the answer is obvious, isn’t it?” She put back the red top, “I have to wear the green one now.” The two of them laughed, and she said, “What’re you two doing here? Did Rocky ask you to stalk me?”

“Do you want the real answer or a lie?”

“The real answer.”

“Rocky asked us to tail you,” Kaito answered before Kizzy.

“Why?” she asked, a bit surprised. “I’m nobody important.”

“Things are getting rough on this side of town,” Kizzy said, walking over to her. “He wants to make sure you’re safe while riding around here.”

“Why me specifically? He can’t be having every single woman in the city followed,” she said, arms crossed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she huffed a laugh, “He likes you.”

The words froze her in place, and Kizzy chuckled. “Ah, you really are oblivious,” she said, picking up a pair of black pants from a rack. She sized them up to Sakyia, nodding her approval, “Rocky is a romantic. When he sees a woman he likes, he wants to shower her with gifts, affection and admiration. He likes to sweep them off their feet and make them feel special.”

“I barely know him.”

“And he’ll do his best to fix that,” Kaito said, nodding when Kizzy showed him the pants. “That's why he keeps trying to get you to stay at the club.”

“If he wanted me to keep coming back, why did he cancel the deliveries?”

“You already work so much,” she answered. “You’ll need a jacket. It’ll be cold tonight,” she gazed around the racks, “He told me he wanted to see you under more casual, personal circumstances instead of work. Well, he said this to me after he scolded me for doing it in the first place. Like, psh, sorry for wanting my good friend to be happy.”

“How about this one?” Kaito lifted a black cropped jacket.

“Good choice,” she grinned, taking the jacket to hang over Sakyia. She returned to Sakyia, “Rocky…Rocky tends to pick women who aren’t as intimidating as you.”

“I’m intimidating to him?”

“Not to him specifically, I think,” she said, “But he thinks he can’t woo you the way he does other women. You confuse him. He’s never met a woman who sticks up for herself and for others with her fists before.”

“He must not meet many, then.”

“None like you.” Sakyia spotted a twinkle in her eye for a moment, “I told him he could absolutely woo you, however.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The fact that you blushed from your ears to your cheeks whenever he paid you a compliment,” she said, “Or that you actually agreed to that crazy courier schedule I created. Wanted reasons to see him, hm?"

She turned away from Kizzy, pretending to be concentrated on the pants in her hand. “It would’ve made good money for the day,” she made an excuse.

“Okay, sure,” Kizzy said, unconvinced, taking her to the register. Sakyia moved to get her wallet, but Kizzy stopped her.

“Are you gonna come to the club tonight?” she asked casually. “It’s going to be tons of fun, especially since you have that little VIP card.”

“I already have plans,” she replied.

“Hm, what a shame,” she frowned, handing Sakyia a paper bag of clothes. “I know I would’ve liked it if you came. I love the other girls with all my heart; I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but it never hurts to have a breath of fresh air there.”

"Maybe another time,” Sakyia said. “I’d go, but I don’t know if my friends would want to. They’re quite set on the party.”

Hearing the words ‘I’d go’ brought a small grin to Kizzy’s face. Sakyia realized then she shouldn’t have said it. She thanked Kizzy for the clothes, and bustled off as her phone vibrated in her pocket again. As she rode away, she felt Kizzy and Kaito watch her until she turned a corner. Something deep inside told her that her ‘matchmaking party’ might be canceled tonight. She hoped not, but she couldn’t stop herself from imagining them at Club Heaven instead. Sakyia envisioned Rocky, wearing white, designer clothes, sitting in his VIP lounge. He’d look up at her as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered, and offer to get her a drink. It sounded so nice. Unfortunately for her, Kizzy was right. It’d be nice to have a handsome man give her attention. She’d by no means throw away her dignity to do it, but if Rocky showed any interest at all, she wouldn’t be upset.

Sakyia finished her route earlier than usual, considering Rocky canceled his appointments. She arrived home, and immediately the excitement hit her again. As expected, when she told her mother about the party, she insisted upon helping out. She approved of the outfit, which eased Sakyia’s worries about how it looked, and fixed her hair and makeup for her. Sakyia only wore makeup when she’d been eight-years-old and playing with her mother’s makeup kits. She didn’t realize how much work went into looking presentable for a party. By the time she finished, she looked like herself, but different somehow. She felt different.

"Ah, you look so beautiful," her mother beamed, pushing a wavy lock from her face. "The boys there will be drooling over you."

"Psh, please," she rolled her eyes, fixing the jacket on her shoulders. "As if that matters."

"It doesn't hurt to have some male attention once in a while, you know. Nothing has to come from it."

She thought about Rocky and those daydreams again. She liked thinking she may run into him somehow, and how he’d put all his focus on her throughout the night. She knew it’s stupid to imagine such things with a person she hardly knows, but it made her feel good. She wanted to feel good. She kissed her mother goodbye, told her not to wait up for her, and headed to the diner on foot. The girls wanted to meet there so then they could all go together, which is something she guessed they did often. She didn’t really think about where she was going and who she’d be seeing there until it was too late.

Walking into the diner, the sounds of chatter and laughter reached her ears. She spotted Naomi at the bar with Asuka, and the twins sitting at the table with Junko. Perhaps they decided to invite her after all. Yamato, Dan, Tettsu and Chiharu sat around, drinking and talking amongst themselves. It dawned on her that Sannoh Hoodlum Squad hung out here regularly as their homebase. Clutching her bag, she noticed another person sitting at his usual booth, absorbed in a magazine on the table. Cobra’s presence briefly erased Rocky from her mind; the butterflies returned and moved about in her stomach, weakening her resolve and bringing on anxiousness. She hated that he had this effect on her. Cobra saw her walk in first, head lifting from his magazine to see her. She gave a small smile and bowed her head. He did the same, but did not look away. He gave her a once over, a sudden softness in his eyes instead of his usual brooding stare. She blushed and looked away. That was when everyone else noticed her.

“Wow, you look awesome!” the twins said together, beaming and looking her up and down.

“Thanks,” she smiled brightly, blushing softly.

“Guys are definitely going to come to us with you around,” said Junko, smiling excitedly.

“That’s not why we invited her, Junko,” Asuka said, nudging her. She rolled her eyes, and turned to Sakyia, “You do clean up well, Sakyia.”

She laughed. “Thanks. So do you guys.”

None of the men spoke. They simply took her in until Naomi snapped at them.

“Hey, put your eyes back in your heads, idiots,” she barked at them, and the men looked over at her.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I wasn’t looking.”

“Psh, whatever.”

Cobra, as usual, said nothing and turned his head away when Naomi caught them. He appeared far more interested in a page of his magazine. She tried not thinking about it.

“So, should we head out? Where is this party anyways?” Sakyia asked, digging through her bag to make sure she had everything she needed.

Her mother stuck a whole bunch of other things she claimed she’d need: breath mints, face wipes, lip balm, a powder compact, and a small bottle of perfume. Sakyia usually carried her keys, wallet, and a snack for her ride around town. It made it harder to search around.

“It’s at my friend’s apartment,” said Asuka. “He lives downtown, so we better get going if we want to show up on time.”

Sakyia found her wallet, and realized she couldn’t find her credit card amongst it. A streak of panic went through her. She started taking out useless cards to find it, putting them on the table, when she realized it was in the bill fold.

“Oh my god!” Shiba’s exclamation made Sakyia lift her head up. She saw her holding the white card with its silver wolf printed on the front. “How did you get this? This is a Club Heaven VIP card.”

“You have a VIP card?” Junko came over to the table to see it.

“Wow, so we’re just taking things now?” Sakyia asked, more amused than affronted. “It’s a card Rocky gave to me when I delivered a package. I’m not really sure what it’s for, but I didn’t want to be rude.” Also, she’d been too distracted by him to ask about it.

“This card gets you into the door without lining up,” said Junko. “You get discounted drinks, special seating, and everything. I think you’re allowed to bring guests with you too, so we can all go.”

“You’re going to go White Rascals’ club?” asked Dan reproachfully. “Psh, I thought you all had a sense of loyalty to Sannoh.”

“Maybe if Sannoh had proper clubs, we’d stay here,” spat Asuka. She walked over to the table, and checked out the plastic card.

"And just because we live in Sannoh doesn't mean we can't go to other places," said Shiba.

“Maybe we can go another time?” Sakyia suggested it when Asuka gave it back. “We have a party to get to, no?”

“Um, no?” Asuka scoffed. “No way am I going to some lame party now when you have a Club Heaven card.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” agreed the twins.

"Club Heaven is way better than that dumb party," said Junko.

“You guys want to go there instead? What about your friend?”

“He’ll survive,” Asuka brushed it off, grabbing her bag. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Rocky gave you that?” Cobra’s deep voice immediately caught her attention.

“He did.”

“Why? He doesn’t hand those out for free.”

“I suppose it’s meant to be a tip?” she shrugged, putting it into her wallet. “A tip that keeps on giving.”

“You should be careful,” he said. “Downtown can be dangerous at night.”

She chuckled, “As stated to me multiple times.” She took up her bag again and looked at the other girls, “Well? Club Heaven, then?”

“Hell yes!”

The girls all squealed, and led Sakyia out the door. Perhaps she’d see Rocky after all.

***

A/N: Looks like Sakyia is turning some heads! I really hope you liked this chapter, and it'd mean a lot if you guys liked or reblogged (comments are always greatly appreciated). Thanks so much for reading <3

#high and low fanfiction #high and low the story of sword #high and low #high & low #high & low the story of sword #high&low the worst #rocky x reader #rocky mutsugi #rocky high and low

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written-in-flowers · 2 years ago

Text

Kimura Delivery Service: Prologue

Pairing: OC x S.W.O.R.D leaders (yes, you read that right)

Genre: smut, fluff, angst,

Word Count: 7k

Fandom: High & Low: The Story of S.W.O.R.D

Overall Warnings: blood and violence, fighting, gang activity, crime, mentions of death, multiple relationships, girlboss being a girlboss, not really 'poly' but girl has a string of lovers,

Part 1 >

***

Sixteen, she surmised. Lean, limber, and tall, he did not look his age at all, which is why they let him enter the ring. Not that the managers cared about the age. They’d turned a blind eye to thirteen-year-old Sakyia back then too. She saw the determined look on his face when he stepped into the pit, a circular spot bordered by short wooden planks. She heard his manager’s shouts from his side as she wrapped her knuckles with bandages, telling him that she’s only a girl and he’d look weak losing to a girl. These words seemed to fuel Yoshi’s eagerness to win. It was either that or his manager’s severe debts. They’d fueled her too until she actually saw Yoshi in the light. He did not have the aged looks other fighters had; he was fresh and young. A child.

“Jiro!” the young woman turned to the large man standing off to the side. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, and she could see the heat of the warehouse beading sweat on his forehead. “Jiro,” she moved close to him, “I’m not fighting.”

“The hell you mean you’re not fighting?” he asked with angry eyes. “A lot of things depend on this fight. What are you talking about?”

“He’s a kid, Jiro!” she retorted, calling over the loud crowd around the ring. “Look at him! Just look at him!”

“I am looking,” he said, “And that looks like someone who wants to be here. If he gets fucked up, it’s his own fault!”

Sakiya knew that was not true. She looked back at Yoshi, who was talking to an older gentleman on the other side. The man poured reassurances that made the boy nod his head. He did not appear as confident as before. She could tell the man was psyching Yoshi up, trying to get him in the mood to fight someone. He did not pick this fight; he did not want to be here. Nobody ever wants to be in the fighting pits. The underground fighting rings in the warehouse district were not the typical boxing matches. They did not end after a few rounds. They ended when someone passed out, yielded, or died. She gazed around the large empty warehouse. They’d blocked off the ring with wooden barriers, and spread sawdust and dirt on the floor for an easier clean up. She saw dozens of faces standing around, already cheering and holding their betting tickets. She knew a lot of people counted on her to win, but winning did not always end pretty.

“I don’t know about this,” she told her stepfather. “You know how these-”

“-Get in the damn ring, girl!” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her close. The stench of sweat and cigars made her nose wrinkle, and his hot breath suffocated her. “You want those men to come back? Because, if I don’t pay them tonight, they’ll come back and they won’t be so lenient like they were today. Do you want to see your mom in the hospital? Hm?”

Sakyia glared at him, and twisted out of his grip. Her forceful push shocked him for a second, but then he smirked. It was a dirty trick. She thought back to the men who’d accosted her mother earlier that day. They’d come seeking out Jiro, but found her instead. Sakyia saw her by their front door, holding her groceries as three men circled her. Thankfully, Sakyia appeared before they could truly hurt the small woman. They told her that if Jiro did not have their money by tonight, they’d come back with more men. She did not know who Jiro owed money to now, but they were not above hurting families. Winning this match would keep her mother safe. So, she turned back to the center where Yoshi met her.

“What are you doing here, kid?” she asked him as the referee approached the ring. “Really? This place isn’t for children.”

“I’m not a kid. I’m eighteen,” he defended.

“Sure, you are,” she scoffed. “You should forfeit while you can,” she fixed the bandages on her hands and knuckles, “So you don’t get hurt.”

“I doubt you can take me on. You should be the one forfeiting the fight before you break a nail.”

“Break a nail? Is that the best you can do?” she snorted out a laugh. “If I break a nail it’s because I smashed it into your pretty face, little boy.”

The referee stepped over the wooden fence and came between them. He mentioned something about a ‘clean fight’ which amused Sakyia. Nothing about the pits was clean. It took a ring of a bell to set everything off. Her body immediately tensed and she raised both her fists up. She took a deep breath as she moved her body to a fighting position. She could do this; she’d done it dozens of times before now. The fact that her opponent was a boy changed nothing; there’s too much at risk to forgive that.

Sakyia made the first swing. Her punch was as fast as a snake. Yoshi surprised her by blocking and punching back, barely missing her head. Another punch. She grunted as he grabbed her arm, twisting it and forcing her to kick him until she came free.

Damn, he was better than she’d expected.

“Not bad, kid!” she exclaimed as she kicked his stomach, throwing him back against the fence. The spectators roughly pushed him back into the ring, and she sighed. “But not good enough.”

He played defense, most likely hoping she’d tire herself out if he hung back. Her father taught her all the signs. Her real father, not Jiro. They don’t really hit back; they'll mostly block or dodge the hits. He told her to do the same when this happened. Either they end up dancing in circles, or her opponent is forced to start fighting. When Sakyia stepped back, it forced Yoshi to move into the center, and that was when she attacked. In a series of fast, hard blows she knocked Yoshi to the ground. But, he tripped her by the ankle and she slammed down onto the floor beside him. She groaned at the impact, and this put her guard down a moment. She imagined her father being there where Jiro stood. He’d be cheering her on. He’d be throwing encouragement and pointers. Then again, her father would’ve never brought her here. They would be at home with their punching bag or eating dinner with her mother.

“Stop playing around and finish him already, Sakyia!”

She should’ve stayed down. She should’ve faked an injury. Sakyia was more than aware how these fights ended. But, she recalled the men at their door and her fearful mother. If she yielded, she lost her earnings. So, she stood on her feet again. Her eyes glanced over to where Jiro stood talking with a man in a black suit. She hated him. She hated him from the moment she met him. She wished they’d just kill Jiro and leave her mother alone. It was because of him that she’d entered the warehouse at all.

She’d been a skinny twelve-year-old when Jiro came into their lives. He’d claimed to own a famous car dealership, a nice house and even a boat. He’d managed to pull it off while her mother and him dated, but once they married, she found out the truth. Jiro gambled most of his money away. He went bankrupt and sold his car dealership. He sold his boat to pay off some loan sharks, and he lost his house to the bank. He promised her mother he’d stop his gambling ways, but never did.

It did not help that his self-loathing projected onto her mother, a thin woman who never hurt a fly. Sakyia tried protecting her, but she’d been too small to fight him. Jiro eventually realized her skills when he caught her fighting a pair of boys who’d followed her home. Rather than sell her like most scoundrels do for money, he pushed her into a fighting pit. Thirteen-years-old by this time, he told the men who ran the fights that she was “old enough”. She doubted the men believed him, but still accepted her. Sakyia, despite hating the fights, was rather good. Her mother never approved of the fighting. Even if he gave her black eyes or swollen cheeks, she still protested against it. Not that Jiro listened. Sakyia soon gained a reputation for her hard, quick fists, earning the nickname ‘Viper’.

A stupid name that she hated.

She blocked Yoshi’s blows, despite the impact making her muscles and bones burn. Their arms locked together, and each of them began punching the other’s side. She made sure each hit counted. All she needed to do was get him to yield the fight. If he yielded, he’d leave intact. They broke apart, and Yoshi kicked her back. The blow took air from her chest, but she recovered quickly enough to grab his ankle in the second kick. She managed to turn it so he fell.

She saw the fight starting to wear Yoshi down. Her father always told her fighting was hard on novices, who used all their energy too quickly. She saw him using the fence to get onto his feet again, and struggling to breathe properly. He was only a child. This was not the place for him.

“Yield,” she said over the crowd, “Yield and go outside.”

“No,” he shook his head. She spotted a glimmer of fear in his eyes when they met, desperation mingling with it. “I can’t.”

He moved once more. He charged forward and punched her face again. Up against the fence, he started pounding on her torso and sides through her shield. She waited him out before pushing him away with an elbow to the face, then a backhand afterwards. It was a clear kick to the chest that landed Yoshi into the dirt. She heard his choked gasp and cough when he hit the floor. Sakyia saw him clawing the dirt and sawdust under his fingernails, rolling to his side and coughing. She’d turned to Jiro.

“Finish him!” he called out to her, gesturing to the boy on the floor.

“He’s down! It’s over!” she called back, shocked by what was happening.

“I said ‘finish him’! Do you want them to come back?!”

Sakyia turned back to Yoshi, who still struggled for air. She watched his chest heave up and down as it tightened. In her heart, she knew how wrong it was. Looking up, she spotted the three men from earlier in the day. They wore fancy suits with small golden pins on their lapels. They watched her with expectant gazes. She knew then why she was being pushed to murder this boy.

Jiro promised them she would do it.

“Finish him, Viper! Finish him!” Jiro shouted angrily, hitting the fence with his fists.

She ignored him. She saw the men watching her still. The tallest one, dark with his hair slicked back from his face, opened his jacket to reveal a gun. He kept his eyes on her and she did not look away. She knew what he said without hearing the words: ‘Finish the damn fight’.

Sakiya stared right at the stranger, then back to Yoshi. She saw the boy clutch at his chest, gasping deeply and coughing up the dust around him. She looked up to the stranger again. She cannot let this boy die. Whatever slight him or his family caused was not her responsibility to handle. She ignored Jiro’s protests and the jeering crowd around her. “I yield,” she said to the referee, “Go get the doctor.”

“What?! Are you insane?!” she heard Jiro call from behind her.

“Are you sure?” the referee asked.

“I’m sure.”

She saw the disapproving looks the suits gave her, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t a killer. They could get their money another way. Sakiya walked over to Yoshi, who struggled to breathe. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said gently, bending down to him and helping him sit up, “Just relax.”

“Yoshi!” the old man hurriedly approached them, holding up an inhaler. “Here,” he bent down and pressed the inhaler to Yoshi’s mouth with a wrinkled hand, “Breathe.”

Sakiya held Yoshi’s head as his grandfather pumped air through the small container. A rough hand then yanked her to her feet and spun her around. Jiro’s beady eyes glared into hers, and she didn’t move away. “Do you realize what you’ve done?! What’s the matter with you?”

“I wasn’t going to let him die,” she spat back. “If you want to settle your debts this way, then you do it,” she shoved him with a hand, putting her bloody bandages on his chest. “I’m done.”

“Done? What do you mean you’re ‘done’? You got two more rounds to go! We have to pay back those guys or they’ll get your-”

“-It’s your problem now,” she shot back over her shoulder before storming off.

‘The next round’. He truly expected her to continue fighting after Yoshi. Sakyia clenched her fists holding back her anger. Hot tears brimmed her eyes, but she did not dare cry in front of Jiro.

She walked away from the ring to an employee locker room. There was nobody there but her. She saw the medical kit on the bench, but did not take anything from it. Despite the burning pain on her nose, the caked blood on her upper lip, she couldn’t be bothered at the moment. In the fluorescent lighting of the room, she finally saw her hands. Her wrappings left indents on her skin in places, and she saw Yoshi’s blood staining her fingers. She unwrapped them as she walked over to a sink to quickly wash it off. She could still hear Yoshi’s shallow gasps as he inhaled more dust and sand. She spotted the bruises on her knuckles, and knew they’d hurt in the morning. She pitied him, and hoped the inhaler saved him. Sakiya was a lot of things, but she was not a killer. She wasn’t going to become somebody’s weapon. She splashed cool water on her hot face, putting some on the back of her neck and letting it fall into her scalp. The soothing water cooled down her hot cheeks. She needed a moment to think. She needed a plan to get out.

“You said you’d have the money by tonight, Jiro,” she heard a man’s voice echo somewhere nearby. Standing upright, she turned off the sink to listen.

“I-I-I will,” Jiro said in a shaky voice. “The girl is just freaked out. You know women; they’re so sensitive when it comes to these things. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be back out there. You’ll have your money, Nikadio. I promise.”

“You better, if you know what is good for you.”

The voices outside brought her back and she knew what to do. She grabbed her backpack and dark green jacket from a nearby locker, made sure she had everything, and stood up to leave. She needed to go home. Her mother was there waiting for her. If she hurried, they could run away. She did know where they’d go, but they had to get away. If they stayed with Jiro any longer, they’d both end up dead. When Sakyia left the locker room, she made to move towards the exit doors before a hand grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going?” Jiro gripped her arm hard, “You still have two more fights. We’re not done tonight. Those men are dangerous people. If they don’t get their money, they’ll come back to the house and hurt your mother.”

“Stop acting like you care about her so much! We both know you don’t,” she shot back, twisting herself out of his grasp and staring him down. “I’m done being your race horse. I’m not going to kill a kid because you promised a bunch of gangsters that you’d do it for them. Settle your debts on your own or get out of town before they toss you into the river.”

“You little, ungrateful bitch! After all I’ve done for you! This is how you repay me?!” She heard him storm after her, and reach for her again.

Sakyia balled up her fist tightly and punched his lower jaw. With a small jolt, Jiro dropped to the ground on his side. She was about to turn away before she spotted the rolled up bills hanging from his pocket. She did not waste any more time. She rifled through his pocket, took the money and his car keys and rushed down the hallway through the exit. She needed to get home.

****

“Ma, Ma! Ma, Pick up!”

Sakyia tapped her mother’s number on her phone once more. Her heart raced thinking of what she might find when she came home. Jiro might be an idiot, but he was right. If the gangsters see that they’re not getting their money tonight, they’ll send a message. What if the man in the suit called his friends to go over to her house? What if they’d taken her mother somewhere? Racing down the street, she nearly screamed from the adrenaline in her body. She had trouble keeping her eyes on the road while dialing and redialing her mother’s number. Every time she heard the ringtone over the speaker, a message came out:

“Hello! This is Tanaka Midori. I am not available right now, but if you leave your name and number, I will call you back-”

“-Why did you get a phone if you won’t answer it when I call you?!” she grunted and tossed her phone into the passenger’s seat.

She kept her eyes peeled on the road for any suspicious cars. Not that she’d be able to tell in the first place. Ending up on her street, she spotted a black car parked outside her house. A thousand horrible scenarios played through her mind as she stepped on the breaks outside. They’d already come. She was too late. She slammed her hands on the wheel angrily, her heart thumping hard in her chest. Quickly, she rushed out of the car, up the steps to their door, and fumbled the keys. She heard people talking on the other side, and she gulped thickly. Her entire body tensed in preparation for a fight. She tried steadying her breathing, but there didn’t seem to be a point anymore.

“Ma! Ma, I’m here!” she called out frantically into the hallway.

But, it was not screams she heard. Nobody had ransacked the house or left any sort of damage behind. She heard people in the living room chatting jovially and laughing. Confusion set in when she walked into the living room to see three people there. Her mother, Midori, sat wearing her silk dressing gown over pink pajamas; her black hair in curlers underneath a matching hair bonnet. On their loveseat sat two men: one older and one younger. The older gentleman wore a tweed gray suit and a gold watch; the younger had black hair cropped over his eyes and wore a dark navy jacket and pants. The elder was talking to her mother, who laughed at something he said. She’d set out her nicest tea set, and a small plate of treats.

Something she only brought out for “important” guests.

“Ma?”

The three people looked over to her. “Ah, there she is! You’re home early. I thought you’d be out much later,” her mother beamed, standing up to greet her. “Oh gosh, look at your face! And your nose!” she gasped and began examining her daughter’s face, “It was already kinda crooked. I hope this doesn’t make it worse. Where’s Jiro?”

“Ma, what’s happening?”

“Good things now,” her mother assured her. “These two gentlemen,” she gestured to the men on the sofa, “Came to see Jiro about the money he owes them.”

“But...What about…” the scene all together made her head hurt. She stared around at them in confusion, trying to make sense of everything. “Those men from today…”

“Don’t worry about them,” said the older gentleman, “Those were some punks we sent to intimidate Jiro. I told your mother we had no idea they would treat her like they did. We’re sorry if they gave you any cause to worry about your mother’s safety or wellbeing.”

She thought she might faint. When she swayed, her mother helped her into a chair. “I’ll go get the kit from upstairs,” her mother said, “If you’ll excuse me…”

“Who...Who are you two?” Sakiya’s questions came out in rapid fire. “Why are you in my house? Why are you here and not at the warehouse where Jiro is?”

“I am Kawata,” the elder man said, shaking hands with her and then sipping from his teacup. “I am a representative of the Ieruma-Kai group. This is Noboru, who is also part of our organization.” He put his cup down and said, “Your stepfather owes our clan a great sum of money. Your fighting tonight was supposed to cover a small part of it-”

“-Did that part involve murdering Yoshi?”

“You killed him?” Noboru looked at her with wide eyes, “You actually killed him?”

It hurt hearing someone say it that way. “I...I didn’t…” the tears suddenly returned, but she fought them away, “I yielded to the fight before anything serious could happen to him. He...He was coughing a lot. He had trouble breathing. I-I-I told him to go outside and get some air. He shouldn’t have been in that place like that. He’s only a kid.”

“Yes, his father mentioned he had asthma,” nodded Kawata. “All the sawdust and dirt must’ve not been easy on his lungs.”

“Why was he there?” Sakyia glared at them.

“Probably to pay off his father’s debts like you,” the man replied. “You know just as well as us how dangerous the fighting pits can be if you’re not careful.”

“He’s a kid. He couldn’t be older than fifteen or sixteen,” she replied.

“The father was too old to fight, and the boy seemed eager to prove himself,” Kawata reasoned. “From what Jiro tells us, you’d been younger than him when you were thrown into the ring.”

“Really?” Noboru asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Oh yes,” Kawata answered, “Sakyia here was-what?-thirteen? Fourteen-years-old?"

"Thirteen, sir."

Sakyia preferred not to think of those days. Like Yoshi, she'd gone into the ring scared and confused. Luckily, some of the older fighters took pity on her. They did not hit as hard, and some gave her tips or tricks she could use. Her father began her training, but when a car accident took his life, those people became her teachers. Jiro saw the potential in her, he claims, and exploited it for his own benefit. Sakyia could not count the number of times she'd fought to earn him money. Not for the family, but for him.

“Since you were thirteen?” Noboru asked. She recognized the pity in his voice, and did not need it. “But…you must’ve been so much smaller than your opponents.”

“Do not be fooled by her size,” Kawata said. “I’ve seen you fight, young lady. My boss calls you ‘the Little Viper’ with those fast jabs of yours.”

She snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard the name thrown around. Jiro said all the great fighters have nicknames,” she rolled her eyes and wiped the side of her mouth with her sleeve. It’d stopped bleeding thankfully. “I always thought it was a silly name.”

“A silly name that gained you a lot of recognition in those warehouses.”

“Oh, I hate that place,” Midori reappeared with the medical kit. She set it on the coffee table, and grabbed disinfectant, “You always come home with these nasty bruises and you’re limping all over the place. It’s not right. I told Jiro over and over that if he wanted to pay off his debts, he should settle it on his own.” Sakyia winced when the small wet cloth touched her cut nose, but her mother kept her still. “I didn’t care if he hit me or not. I didn’t want him throwing you into the fire.”

“And we completely understand,” Kawata said to her. “Sakyia is a very pretty, charming, young woman. She should be out with her friends and going to college.”

“Exactly my point!” Midori agreed. She wiped the dried blood from Sakyia’s face, then continued, “I worried it’d end like this. I worried one day he’d drive you to do something reckless or dangerous that would get someone killed.”

“There was a man there,” Sakyia said to Kawata. “He was wearing a black suit. He had short black hair slicked back from his face. I overheard him talking to Jiro about the fight.”

Kawata thought, then said, “Ah yes, that must’ve been Nikaido. He works with us too. He was there to collect your earnings tonight.” He paused, “Did you run into him?”

“No, I saw him, but we never spoke. So, you’re telling me you didn’t mean for Yoshi to die? That it wasn’t some elaborate way of sending a message or something?”

They both chuckled softly, then Kawata said, “Of course not. If we want to kill someone, we do it ourselves. Whatever happens to Yoshi after tonight is a result of the fighting ring, not us.”

She looked up at her mother. Her headache from all the confusion pulsed in her temples, and she didn’t know what to say. “I...Mama...I’m…”

“I think it’s about time you gentlemen were off,” Midori said to the two men. “My daughter needs rest and I believe our formal business is done.”

Kawata bowed his head, “Yes, ma’am.”

They stood up together and they each thanked her for her hospitality. Kawata told her someone from Ieruma would stop by the salon to check it out, and she led them out. Once they were gone, she returned to Sakyia on the chair. Looking up at her mother, who smiled warmly at her, she sobbed. The tears she’d tried withholding came forth in hard trembles. She leaned forward, her head in her hands as she cried. Her mother gave her a tender pat on the back and stroked her head.

“It’s alright, Blossom,” she said softly, sitting her up and stroking her hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing has happened; I’m sure the boy will be alright.”

“I couldn’t do it, Mama. I couldn’t finish the fight,” she took a deep breath, “I thought something awful was going to happen to you.” She blinked the tears from her eyes, until she wiped them with her sleeves. “The Ieruma men weren’t going to get their money, so I thought they’d come and hurt you. Jiro’s problems have always become our problems, and I’m sick of it. I didn’t care when it was him and me, but the fact that you were going to be dragged into it…”

She sighed sadly, and continued cleaning up Sakyia’s wounds. Smoothing over the cut on her nose, she said, “I hate that it’s become like this. The child protects the parent when it should be the other way around.” She must’ve decided stitches weren’t needed, and began disinfecting the wounds to bandage them, “Jiro is too cowardly to face his own troubles,” she said, “So he threw you in front of them. I should have left him. I should have not let him do what he did, but I...I was weak, Sakyia. I’d just lost your father and we didn’t have the salon yet. We would’ve been homeless if Jiro had not come along. I’d hoped he’d be a proper father figure to you, but I was wrong.” She placed the last plaster on the bridge of her nose and said, “It’s my fault you were there in the first place. I should have fought him harder; I shouldn’t have been so weak. I’m so sorry, Blossom. I’m sorry that I am not your-”

“-Mama,” she took her mother’s shaking hands and squeezed them gently, “Jiro would have done it whether you fought back or not. I don’t...I don’t blame you,” she sniffed back her tears. “I’m so confused,” she admitted, “Everything is happening so fast and I can’t-c-can’t keep up with it.”

“Then don’t say anything else,” she comforted, “You can just listen.” When Sakyia rested her head on her mother’s lap on the couch, Midori began: “When those three punks came up to me today, I knew Jiro was in a bad situation with bad people. I wasn’t surprised, to be honest, since Jiro only ever dealt with shady types. Yet, I noticed one of them was wearing this little golden pin on his jacket. It had a triangle with dragons around it, and I recognized the symbol. The young man who brings Yori- you remember Mrs. Ieurma, right? She’s the lady who used to give you candy when you were little?”

“I remember her.”

“Well, her chauffeur also has that little pin. When I saw her at the salon today, I told her what happened and she was shocked! She said she couldn’t believe her husband would send men to harass a lady, especially a dear friend of hers. If my husband owed money, she said, they should be harassing him. She told me she’d be speaking with him personally about it.”

“That was nice of her to do,” Sakyia said.

“Oh, Yori’s one of my oldest clients. I adore her!” she caught herself before a tangent, and said, “Anyways, she got me in touch with her husband and we talked about it at the salon.”

“You spoke to Tatsumi in person? Isn’t he, like, the boss?”

“Over the phone, yes,” she said, “He explained the entire situation to me. He said it was all business and he didn’t mean to involve us, but that Jiro did owe them a considerable amount.”

“He must know how fond Yori is of you,” Sakyia added, “To change his character so easily.”

“To be honest, it was probably because he knows Jiro wouldn’t care if either of us died,” she shrugged. “I hate to say it so harshly, but family is only a good leverage if the person you're threatening actually cares about them.”

She supposed that made sense. Her mother continued her story, “As I was saying, I spoke with Tatsumi and asked how much Jiro owed him. When I realized how much it was, I knew your earnings alone wouldn’t cover the amount. That’s why Kawata and Noboru came to visit. They came to discuss payment. I give them ownership of the salon; they cut Jiro’s debts in half and only deal with him from now on.”

“Ownership of the salon?!” Sakyia bolted upwards in her seat and looked at her mother in disbelief, “You sold the salon? Ma, that salon is your entire life! You spent years working towards it! It means everything to you, it’s your work! Your life! You can’t just-”

“-I can and I did,” she hushed her daughter gently. “The salon might have been my work, but it was not my life and does not mean everything to me.” She cupped Sakyia’s swollen cheek and looked her in the eyes, “You are, Blossom. If selling the salon meant you did not have to fight anymore, then it was worth it to me. I can rebuild a salon, but I can’t rebuild a daughter.” She gently kissed Sakyia’s forehead and hugged her close. “Tatsumi agreed to the deal and Kawata came to finalize the papers.”

“What are you going to do for work, Ma?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “We can’t afford to stay here, so we’ll have to move somewhere else. But, we’ll talk about that tomorrow.” She gazed over her daughter’s face, taking in each feature and comparing them to her father. Sakyia looked like him in certain lights. “This can be a new start for the both of us; you and me,” her eyes glazed over with tears, “The way it should have been the whole time.”

“Ah, Ma…”

Midori kissed her head again, then made her eat. Sakyia didn't realize how much everything hurt until she relaxed. She swore she felt her entire body throbbing all at once everywhere. She winced when she finally stood up, feeling the fight in her muscles. She made her way upstairs, where her mother prepared a hot bath, and she sunk into it slowly. As the soothing water worked on her sore muscles, she knew one thing for certain: her mother would be safe now. Midori wouldn’t have to worry about Sakyia being injured or Jiro’s furious hits. She could focus on more important things. Sakyia considered what she might do now that she had no warehouse fights. Thinking of the future felt better than remembering the boy she’d fought tonight. Her mother would tell her to go to university, but she felt too old for that now.

Maybe she’ll know when she finally gets to wherever they’re going.

****

Their landlord gave them a month to leave the house. Midori told her that Sakyia’s aunt, Hana, had an extra room above her shop where they could stay until they got back on their feet. Sakyia remembered her aunt, a round-faced woman with coarse black hair, and felt thankful to be moving in with someone familiar. Hana joked that now they’d have someone to protect them if a robber came into the apartment.

However, remembering the shabby apartment, she doubted there’d be any burglars to worry about. Her aunt lived in a town called Sannoh which was outside their district. Her mother had grown up here, she knew. It was a small place with local businesses and friendly neighbors. As they drove through, she saw the kids playing in the street, the vendors haggling with customers at their shops, and people walking or bike riding. It seemed like such a simple place. It looked quiet and peaceful.

“Is there no post office?” Sakyia asked as they drove down the street. “I’m sure people can mail things to each other.”

“It’s an inner-district delivery service,” her mother answered. “Sometimes people need things delivered quickly and the post office doesn’t always work that way.”

“Like what?”

She hesitated, as they turned a corner, “Just things, Blossom. Nothing you need to worry about. You’ll be helping me in the salon, remember?”

“What salon?”

“Hana says our friend Sungmi is going back to Korea,” she said, “And is selling her salon.”

“Ma, you don’t have money to buy a salon. We don’t even have our own place to live yet.”

“Hey, who is the parent here, huh?” Midori laughed. “You worry about things too much, Sakyia. I’ve known Sungmi since we were in beauty school, and she said she’ll keep ownership until I’m able to pay to buy her out.” She squeezed Sakyia’s leg, “Don’t you worry, little blossom. Mama’s got this all taken care of. You and I are gonna get through this together, okay?”

Sakyia smiled. She’d spent most of her time relaxing her worn out body. It felt weird not doing anything besides training in their garage. Looking at the sketch book in her lap, she’d gone back to art like she’d done as a kid. On the page, she’d drawn a stocky man punching a large punching bag. He had a straight jawline like hers; his broad build was all muscle. She added a few strays in his black hair, and added shade to his wrapped hands. Her mind often drifted to her father in times like these, when the world felt so uncertain. She traced out the shadows of his crooked nose, which had been narrow before being broken in several fights. He’d been the strong one out of the three of them.

Then the accident happened. The weight then fell on her shoulders, because Jiro weakened her mother so significantly.

“We’re here now.”

She looked out the window to see a small storefront on the side of the road. On a faded sign above the windows, someone painted the words: “Kimura Delivery Service: Stamped, Sealed, Delivered.”

“Stamped?”

Midori chuckled, “That was from when it first opened. Your grandfather used to have this little stamp to verify packages. Now, your aunt prints a label. But, the sign meant a lot to your grandfather, so she promised she’d never change it.” Then she added, “Also, new signs cost a fortune.”

Sakyia was sure the business did not have money for anything new. Through the wide windows, she saw her aunt already standing at a counter beside a register. A young man in a red jacket stood scribbling down on a piece of paper in front of her, both chatting. She also noticed the ‘Help Wanted” sign in the corner of the window. How much business could this place be getting that she needed more help? Sakyia and her mother then stepped out of the car. Their appearance made Hana look out the window, and she smiled widely and waved. The young man noticed her waving and turned around. He was short, maybe two or three inches taller than her, with blond hair he kept parted to the side. He looked at Sakyia curiously, most likely trying to remember if he recognized her. Sakyia knew she’d never seen him before.

“Midori!” Hana cheered as they walked into the store. She moved around the counter and the sisters hugged tightly. “I thought you’d be coming in the afternoon! I would’ve closed up the office early!”

“Sakyia stayed up to pack the rest of our things,” she told her as they released each other. “And the movers put our furniture into storage yesterday.”

“We didn’t have much to begin with,” said Sakyia, shouldering her backpack. “Hello, Auntie.”

“Ah! There she is!” Hana embraced her, “My favorite niece! Oh, look how big you’ve gotten!” She moved away to take a look at Sakyia, “Good lord, girl, you’re so skinny. What has your mother been feeding you? Grass?”

Sakyia did not have the heart to tell her about the strict diet Jiro kept her on before his ‘disappearance’. She’d thought she might gain some from stuffing her face the past few weeks, but nothing goes past her Auntie Hana. She noticed the man behind them leaning against the counter, looking at them with interest. Sakyia could not get a read on him, and that bothered her.

“I tell her all that training burns off anything she eats,” her mother lied immediately, “But now that you’re here, I’m sure she’s going to be eating tons.”

“Of course!” Hana exclaimed, “A few days here, and you’ll be all rounded out.”

The young man coughed into his fist for her attention, and Hana whipped around. “Oh gosh, Junpei,” she said, coming back to the counter, “Forgive me. You finished the label?”

“It’s alright, Ms. Kimura,” he replied, “I already sealed it there for you.”

“Excellent,” she said, smoothing out the printed label he’d signed. “Ah, Junpei, this is my sister, Midori, and her daughter, Sakyia. They’re moving into the apartment upstairs. Midori, Sakyia, this is Junpei. He’s one of my more frequent customers.” She took his payment from the counter, entered it, and gave him change.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, bowing his head to them both. “Welcome to Sannoh.“

Despite his baby face, Sakyia recognized his kind right away. The gangster types who frequented the warehouses and clubs around the bayside of the city carried the same similar shadiness about them. Sakyia saw them all the time growing up: they’d be the ones placing bets, taking bets, and on the sidelines with their fighters or participating in the fights. She wondered if he’d ever gone there. The bay district might be too far for him. She stepped closer to her mother.

“You must need a lot of packages delivered quickly to be considered a regular here,” Sakyia said curiously.

“A lot of people in Sannoh use your aunt’s business,” he replied innocently. “Not everyone is able to go outside town to get packages delivered and going through post offices takes longer.”

“I can’t promise it’ll get to your friend by tomorrow,” Hana cut in. “I haven’t found a courier since Koichi quit.”

“That’s fine,” Junpei told her. “I just need it there as soon as possible."

"I understand," Hana nodded. She struggled to put the parcel on the tall stack of boxes until Junpei came and helped her. “Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I’m going to be buried in these boxes at this rate.”

“I can always have one of the gang come help you,” he said. “Chiharu and Dan would be glad to help.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled. “Tell them I’ll pay them well for it. If they don’t get lost, that is.”

“Dan only got lost once,” Junpei defended gently.

“Twice.”

“Alright, yes, twice. I’ll let them know and send them here.”

“Such a sweet boy,” she patted his cheek tenderly. “You take care of yourself now, and wear a helmet when you ride that thing,” she nodded to the motorcycle outside. “You could get in an accident and crack your head open.”

Junpei nodded, “I will, Ms. Kimura.” He turned over to Midori and Sakyia, and nodded again, “It was nice meeting you both.” He looked right at Sakyia as he said, “I’ll see you around.”

He reminded her of those dreamy characters in manga. The tsundere characters with kind hearts who sport leather jackets and ride motorcycles. They pretend not to care, but they care very deeply. She admitted he was handsome. Even a blind person would think he was handsome. But, something about him kept her distance, but then again, she kept everyone at a distance.

Except her mother.

Sakyia looked back to her aunt and her mother, who’d begun catching up while her aunt shut down the store for the day. She decided she’d make her way up to the apartment and begin unpacking her things. Junpei came to mind. If he was what she thought he was, then Sannoh might be more dangerous than it seemed. Sakyia remembered the gangs who’d come strutting into the warehouse; Jiro usually owed them money, so she’d become good at spotting them. They either wore flashy clothes, business suits or leather jackets. Junpei was clearly the ‘leather jacket’ kind.

She’d need to keep an eye out for him.

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