The city sidewalks filled with feisty and cheery-eyed individuals desperately seeking places to relax and casually unwind during the breezy evening. The city was a popular tourist attraction for those wanting to try the Taisetsu-Ji beer, a city specialty made out of the spring water from Mt. Taisetsu brewed into a premium malted beverage. Asahikawa was also overly popular for its Asahikawa Ramen, a fatty fish broth utilizing thick curly noodles instead of traditional thin noodles. Generally around evening, tourists and citizens would desperately search their local ramen bar to enjoy a mouth-watering unforgettable delicacy straight from Asahikawa.
Vehicle traffic surged the midnight breeze in Asahikawa, creating strobing light mayhem for the citizens seeking to return him from work. However, traffic was not an issue for Sumire's supremely slender and sporty motorcycle. She delightfully cruised in between traffic while other vehicles witnessed and judged her churlish behavior with malefic intent. Vehicles honked their horns the more she overtook them, yelling and complaining about her irrational driving. As Ryo held Sumire's waist tightly, he closed his eyes and pretended not to be the center of attention from Sumire's relentless driving experience.
"If they scratch my bike, they'll know what's coming for them." Sumire aggressively quipped as she cut through more ongoing traffic.
Ryo believed his sister's obsession with her motorcycle was overly mawkish, but it was purely based upon intricate care for her belongings. He had previously witnessed himself marveling over her ancient Japanese artifacts, especially the overflowing beauty of Natsu Higuchi's dedication to writing passionately. Ryo could tell his sister was deeply inspired by Higuchi's impact upon Japanese literature, which thus, transpired into her passion for being a journalist.
At last, the sibling duo arrived in a dimly lit plaza with streetlights flickering on and off like a lantern bug's core. Citizens neglected the Mountains Jazz Club in Asahikawa, as it was advertised as the cornerstone of entertainment and relaxation for those seeking to wind down from a long and stressful night. Live music was the main reason why people came to this new establishment, performed by flexible skilled musicians and artists who had spent their dutiful lives in the musical industry for years. A Mountains Jazz Club logo sign, mimicking a divine white-colored mockingbird, stood outside with specialty and novelty caffeinated drinks being served in the evening. The herbaceous and fruity aroma of freshly ground coffee beans seeped through the cracks of the glass door, enticing Sumire into a caffeinated paradise the moment she removed her motorcycle helmet.
"Man, this place brings back memories," Sumire pointed out, locking her motorcycle with her sturdy key. She attached her helmet to a buckle behind her hip to keep it secure, preventing thieves from stealing her sentiments. She stood towards a specific spot two meters away from the club's entrance, pointing at a glossy wooden bench. "This place is where my mother placed me before she entrusted your family to take care of me. It's also the place where Claude picked me up too."
"Hmm," Ryo commented with a thin smile. He was able to visualize a young and quirky version of Sumire's adolescence, pouting and bawling in tears waiting for someone to rescue her. As she described her past to Ryo at that moment, he was honored to be a part of her recreated history by revisiting the birthplace of her unbridled dependence. "Alright. Let's head in."
As the two entered the jazz club with a decorous impression from the exterior, the resonating sounds of jingling bells indicated the arrival of a new customer. An explosion of musical sounds filled Ryo and Sumire's ears by astonishing surprise, sensing the atmospheric vibration from the beat of the rattling drums and the reverberating bass shaking the violet curtains on their stage. Ryo noticed the serene and divine texture of flooring, procured from smooth oak wood across the club. Padded walls stacked near the stage to repel audio across the room, giving their live audiences a theatric flavor for their performance quality. Ryo's black shoes squeaked against the oak wood as he strode forward with his first step.
Four cushioned seats had customers relaxing near the tinted glass windows observing the outdoors and its beauty. Circular wide tables spanned across the room with enough space to fit multiple families relaxing indoors. In the corner of the jazz club was a miniature stage with a handsome spiky-haired man singing a calming melody while a bassist and pianist riddled their fingers like serene silk to provide backup tunes. The audience's attention was heavily focused on the performance with their inexorable attention. The theatric audio circulation tingled Ryo's spine as his ears invited and marveled at the smooth jazz melody. The perfect amount of bass and melody created a relaxing aura around his body to have him relax with an uplifted spirit.
"Ryo, come on," Sumire gestured and cheered near the bartender. "I'd like you to meet Claude Spiker, the man who took me in and protected me as a child. When my family wasn't around, he'd always be with me when times were tough."
Claude, the bartender, was an unusual appearing man with chaotic body proportions that Ryo had never witnessed before. At first glance, Claude was particularly well-built, as his muscular pectoral and arm frame bulged out through his black dinner suit and ivory white dress shirt. His revealing burly dark-skinned arms were as large as dumbbell weights. His eyes were covered by a bushy and flowery unibrow, and his groomed handlebar twirly mustache nearly shrouded his thick and wide lipped mouth. As he elegantly poured a non-alcoholic drink for Sumire as she relaxed on a velvet brown stool, he gently bowed in respect at the sight of Ryo's friendly presence. His thin sea-blue eyes opened up, examining Ryo's body structure while lightly smiling at him with profound respect. His mannerisms startled Ryo as if he was a regular in his exquisite jazz club.
Claude spoke with an unstressed puffy and nasal accent with hints of French heritage through his deep and complex voice. "So, this is the Ryo-boy you've told me about all these years? Certainly, I didn't expect him to be so similar looking to you. Perhaps you two truly were destined to be siblings."
Ryo's eyes shot up, delicately looking at Sumire with his eyebrows leaned down. "Oh, I guess you knew about that already." He mentioned.
"Oh, yeah. I told Claude long ago. He's one of the only people who know about it. Things have changed ever since that happened, so…" Sumire explained while cherishing her glass of Japanese mango cider. The bubbles that rose to the top of the crystalline clear glass was tempting enough for Ryo to taste the acidic nature in his throat. She joyfully smiled as she downed the entire shot of cider, coughing slightly with her eyes tightly shut to outclass the acidity of the drink. Her eyes then popped open with an erratically enthusiastic gaze upon Ryo. "You're 21 now, aren't you, Ryo? Why don't you pour him some Taisetsu beer, Claude?"
"Wait," Ryo shook and waved his hands to deny her persuasive request. "No, I'm fine. I've never really been much of a drinker," He stated. Even though he had been exposed to its foul stench and acidic stinging aroma while being a member of the Asahikawa Yakuza, he had always abstained from it after fearing its addictive chemicals would transform him into a drunken monster.
"Aww, come on, Ryo. You're such a party-pooper," Sumire laughed as her cheeks appeared flushed with a light and delicate rose-tinted pink. Ryo was astonished even a non-alcoholic drink was potent enough to seize her in a drunken matter. "You should be happy you're 21! I need another year before I can hit this place up for real, you know..."
"Different non-alcoholic drinks for the both of you then?" Claude offered, opening up a rich light-brown drink menu brushed with the aroma of cinnamon in its well-crafted glossy pages. "We offer a premium special mint cider with a side of lemon wedges. It's blended with mint leaves on the rocks. It's very special around here, as you can see," He gestured his hand slowly across the jazz club for Ryo, who noticed a majority of the customers enjoying the drink on their circular tables. "However, the alcoholic version is more popular than our non-alcoholic ones. Our non-alcoholic versions are served with a water back to reduce its potency."
"We'll take it," Sumire accepted without another word. "Come on, Ryo! Sit next to your tiny ole sister." Ryo could sense an inch of drunkenness from the way she verbally expressed her request but was not sure if she was faking her mannerisms.
"Coming right up," Claude spun around and snatched a silver stainless steel muddler from a granite countertop behind his burly and refined body. Within a mixing glass, Claude delicately sprayed fresh aromatic mint leaves while Ryo and Sumire observed them hovering down like leaves falling from autumn wood trees. Claude spun and twirled the muddler until he seized it with his fingers. He gently pressed down upon the bundled mint leaves to extract the natural essences and oils from it, enriching the mixing glass with a sweetened herb fragrance within. Sumire's eyes lit up, inspired by Claude's flawless act of drinking crafting. He tossed in several cubes of ice with a bar spoon before pouring white cider inside. With a gentle stir, Claude mixed the herbal ingredients for several seconds before pouring them into two individual shot glasses for Ryo and Sumire to delight in. "Enjoy."
"Whoa, now that's amazing!" Sumire complimented, taking a sip from her minty drink.
Ryo took a sip from the drink as well. The essence of minty oils infused with the cider, tingling his tastebuds in a chilling yet pleasant manner. It was remarkably refreshing. "It's... really good." He simplified his terms.
Sumire clapped. "See what I mean? Claude's amazing!" She took another sip of her drink and set it down on the table with a pleased and flushed face. "Ryo, when Claude first rescued me, he made me drink all these strong cappuccinos and shots of coffee. I couldn't even sleep the night he took me in. But I first remember my first taste of orange juice. It truly was heaven."
"Rescued? Is that right," Ryo acknowledged Claude, who was busy washing and polishing shot glasses with a white towel cloth. But he was unsure of what she meant by 'rescued.' "Thank you for taking care of her." He spoke with a powerful and serious tone, respectfully admiring him for his patience in raising his new sister to be a powerful and independent woman.
"To be fair, she took care of me as well," Claude admitted, chuckling while he finished polishing a shot glass. "If it wasn't for her..."
"Thank you, thank you all so much," A spiky-haired male performer had just ended his live performance, praising the crowd for their applause and gratitude. The dense and excited crowd had cheered in response to his respectful bowing and masterful performance of jazz. An announcer with a massively tall hat and purple slim dress shirt hopped onto the stage, holding a card listing the rest of the live performers. Ryo, Sumire, and Claude fixed their attention to the stage after the audience had applauded the performer's acme of jazz. "I would just like to give a big shout-out to all my fans. Making music in Aries has been tough, but you people never gave up hope. You all give me life!"
"Yeah! We love you!" One of the crowd members chanted.
"Hmm? Who do you love?" The performer gestured his palm on his ear, knowing the crowd would reply ecstatically with his name.
"Dynasteve!" They cried.
"WHO!?" The performer repeated.
"DYNASTEVE!"
Sumire giggled and took another sip of her mint cider. While Ryo was stuck in a trance observing the hyperactive crowd, Sumire's prior experience at the jazz club made her curious about today's particular stocked setting. There was a massive influx of customers that she hadn't witnessed before the past. "Hey, why are there so many customers today, Claude?" She asked.
Claude chuckled once. "Well, that's because tonight's a special occasion. Dynasteve was from Aries. He and the other performers come here once a month," He explained, now finished polishing his glass. "You didn't know that?"
"I didn't," Sumire believed she had been missing out. She then turned to Ryo, who was watching the stage with his keen eyes. "Looks like we picked the right time to come here, didn't we?"
Ryo had been trapped in an actual trance, having a callous attitude towards the crowd for supporting the people of Aries. He was inundated with traumatic memories from his childhood, remembering Sezan's goals of conquering Aries and their indirect intention of taking people's jobs on Earth. Even though he trained himself to reject the illusion of their control, Ryo could still sense hostility in the people of Aries, even if they were ingenious. His skin chilled with bitterness as his eyes traced towards his mint cider, scarfing it down in one gulp.
"Ryo, are you okay?" Sumire was worrisome, placing her palm on Ryo's hesitating shoulder. "Your face is all red and you're shaking..."
"I'm fine," Ryo disregarded his emotions, standing up from his velvet stool. He was weak in the knees as he sensed them wobbling. "I should probably go."
"Wait, no, Ryo!" Sumire attempted to stop him by dragging his hand back to his seat. Claude watched as the crowd's violet announcer praised Dynasteve for his excellent musical performance.
"Alright, give another big thanks and applause for Dynasteve and his amazing performance! Always a pleasure to hear you sing every time!" The announcer stated as the crowd cheered once more. Ryo and Sumire froze from their exacerbated conflict as their dreary eyes traced themselves to the stage.
"Please, just stay a bit longer." Sumire insisted.
Ryo sighed, sitting with her in an attempt to blot out the harrowing memories from the past.
"Now, once again, thank you to you all for coming here tonight. It's been a while since it's been a full house, and I must say, I'm thoroughly impressed!" The goofy announcer spread his legs and leaped from side to side on the stage to attract the audience with his quirky movements. "Now then, we've got two special guests remaining, so please show your utmost hospitality to these amazing artists. They prepared for a long time and came out here to perform exclusively for this club!"
The crowd was exhilarated from the spiritual energy emerging from the excitement of jazz music, standing up from their seats and praising the entertainment they pined for.
The announcer placed his left hand on his hip while shaking it lightly from side to side. He fixed his hat from toppling over and gazed at the audience with a confident smirk. "Now, when it comes to all this new music, there's nothing better than the old-school classics. I'm sure many of you know what I'm talking about. You know, all the old tunes that your family used to back in the 28th century!" He praised. "That's right everybody! You know who I'm talking about! It's Miss Springwell and her old-school angelic singing! Give it up! Give it up!" He moved off of the stage while the crowd whistled and cheered.
Ryo's vision clouded as soon as Miss Springwell stepped out from the shadows behind the stage. Holding her acoustic guitar, Ryo was abruptly aghast at the sight of Ash Meguro arriving with her backup band, delicately smiling at the crowd for its patience and positive cheers. His head jerked backward as he stood up from his seat, edging closer to the door as his brain was rattled with lightheadedness. His traumatic flashbacks triggered the more he endured through the night, and he effortlessly chose to give up on the spot.
"Ryo, wait. Wait!" Sumire followed after him, snatching his shoulder. "Do you need to take some medicine? What's wrong?"
"I... I can't," Ryo denied, refusing to stay in the jazz club. His heart sunk to the bottom of the depths, drowning within his selfishness for whole-hearted redemption. "I just keep seeing things about the past. I keep thinking about it. It hurts, and-"
***
Ooh, find yourself, that's the question we were all born with,
Ooh, know you're not alone with this world,
Find yourself, that's the hardest fight we have to live
Yet there's no turning back when we know the answers.
***
"Huh?" Ryo and Sumire paused in their regretful struggle as the voice of Miss Springwell enchanted their ears. Ryo's eyes blinked owlishly as he somehow sensed his heart rising from the depths while the audio padding in the jazz club resonated into his eardrums. It was one of those voices that one would hear at the gates to heaven calling your name before reaching the path to the zenith of paradise. His clenched and reticent body controlled itself to search for the source of the blessing of the sultry-like singing. Sumire released her grasp on Ryo's shoulder, witnessing him turning around sluggishly with owlish eyes that stunned his mind.
A petite long-haired bright blonde female was the center of the heavenly stage. Her blonde bangs obscured her forehead. Her straight posture was glorified. Miss Springwell's stature was no ordinary old-schooled singer. The spotlight's incandescent warm light refracted upon her glistening light skin with such immaculate and meticulous flare. Such dedication to her song was expressed through her smooth facial expressions; her emerald glistening jeweled eyes were slender as she opened and closed them attuned to the guitar melody. Her cheeks were flushed with the perfect shade of pink, freckled throughout her rosy complexion. Her lips were slender and perfected with carmine-pink lip gloss as she sang melodically. No, she was not an ordinary singer, but a gentle heavenly angel who descended from the skies to gift the public with her cherubic voice.
Ryo's breath was taken away at the marvel of Miss Springwell's majestic presence. He was allured by her classy mineral-white royal dress, noticing the light gray frills on the end of the sleeves. Her chic black translucent legs and black heels added to her slender and seductive nature, drawing Ryo closer. It was such a cryptic and simplistic style, but Ryo admired it nonetheless.
He attuned himself with the audience to join their focused perspective upon her, admiring Miss Springwell as she leaned forward on a velvet stool with an etched A.S. on the flank of her acoustic guitar. The bassist, drummer, and pianist played immaculately to the rhythm of her precious song. The crowd remained silent as the radiant spotlights continued to shine against Miss Springwell's perfect form. It was as if she was beauty and music mixed in an amiable incarnate, and Ryo's moon-eyed gaze was only drawn to the source of such charm.
***
Oh, oh, feeling like you're lost in the world
It's a feeling everyone's had before,
Find yourself, find the light
Won't you realize that you've made your way?
***
"What is this?" Ryo whispered to himself as his lethargic body began to rejuvenate itself with Miss Springwell's lyrics. When he was still in middle school, Sophie Hiragi once told him that he was a slave for Sez's sake. Afterward, he lived a double life serving as a member of the Asahikawa Yakuza and a masqueraded student. Never once did he ever consider finding a purpose of his own to ameliorate the trauma. Now that Sumire was involved in his life, he believed being a passionate brother was his best choice at first. With his appraising gaze fixated on Miss Springwell's melody, he was dedicated and healed from his earlier struggles.
"Ryo, are you okay?" Sumire repeated, standing astute behind Ryo's still figure. Her visage flashed with uncertainty and worried thoughts, encompassing her mood in sudden irritation. "You promised me you would move past this. We're here tonight to celebrate our-"
"I know," Ryo had a sudden change of heart, moving from his stiffened exposure to Miss Springwell's angelic verses. He spun around and took a seat back on his velvet stool. He smiled with glimmering hope. "I'm sorry. I just... I was just uncertain that I wouldn't be able to recover from my pain. But for some reason, her singing made me feel better."
"You seem inspired," A familiar strident voice caught Ryo's attention, approaching the bartender's table dressed in groovy lightning blue and white. His golden ring was enticingly expensive with a glimmering diamond inserted in the center. It was Dynasteve, the previous performer. He strolled toward the table in the mood for a drink; a simple glance at his leaned-back stature and slow cocky gestures indicated that his honesty on stage was merely a ruse. His smoky mascara-eyes gave off a jest that he was truly in the mood for enjoyment. "I could tell from a distance, you see."
"Wait, Dynasteve? What are you doing here?" Sumire surprisingly asked.
"It doesn't hurt once in a while to ask for a drink now, does it?" Dynasteve replied in a jesting manner. He slipped beside Ryo's seat with a smirk and placed his gently on the glass table. "Please, just call me Eve."
"Eve?" Sumire giggled. "Sorry, but I thought your real name was Steve."
"Yeah," Eve rolled his smoky-hued eyes as his mouth parted open in slight vexation. "I get that a lot. But I am named after the great legacy, the birth of the universe. I am the division of good and evil. Such a name cannot be tamed by a simple name along with the likes of... Steve," Eve's mouth rolled back in disgust. He then turned his eyes to Ryo after Claude poured him the rest of the mint cider he had crushed to a pulp earlier. "You see, this young man was inspired by that woman singing over there. Could you see it within him? His eyes were like an owl's!"
"Yeah. What about it?" Ryo annoyingly asked.
"The point is... you seem like a secluded man who had just found inspiration from art," Eve continued. "Perhaps you'd be interested in a session of coaching? I can teach you all about what it means to live."
"Hmm? What are you two talking about?" Miss Springwell's goddess-like figure approached the bartender's table. Ryo hadn't even noticed her song was finished until she approached the countertop with her hands clasped behind her waist, swaying from side to side like a feather. "Eve! It's so good to see you! You were amazing out there!"
Eve respectfully stood up after finishing his mint cider, tenderly embracing her in a warm hug. Ryo, Sumire, and Claude observed them from a distance. "Oh, Miss Springwell, thank you so much. We both try hard, you know," He complimented with a gloomy expression. He then turned to the trio he had attempted to make small talk with, nodding at them with a complimentary smile, and left the scene. "Well then, I must be off. Back to Aries, I go. Enjoy your time, the four of you."
Sumire respectfully waved him a farewell while Claude turned his back to polish more of his marked shot glasses. "I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back, Ryo." Sumire indicated, slipping out of her velvet chair and approaching the back of the jazz cafe.
Ryo noticed Miss Springwell taking the seat next to him with a calming and appealing impression based on her glorifying straight stature and posture. she appeared even more enchanting up close, and what Ryo had seen from a distance was only superficial. Completely differed from Ryo's initial reaction, his curious eyes couldn't keep away from her butterfly's-antenna eyelashes infused with her emerald-hued sparkling eyes. Her blossom-sweet pink lips brimmed into a slight smile as her bright blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders with elegance. Ryo was motionless as her gentle fingers slipped through her blonde hair like individual tiny silk fibers.
In a split second, Ryo could feel an invisible warming embrace latching onto his heart, with him refusing to let it go. Miss Springwell was a seraph tenderly wrapping her arms around his heart the more he gazed upon her complexion. He could sense a compassionate personality brimming from her heart that resonated within his soul the more he imagined.
With a swift spin, Miss Springwell's turned and faced Ryo with a smile that ignited the environment with a sparking light as her pearl-serrated necklace twinkled on her smooth neck. Her mineral-white dress captivated their presence with the aroma of freshly picked rosemary and mint from the masterful light menthol-flavored cider. Ryo's investment in Miss Springwell's appearance congealed him in a frozen state, unable to act or realize the antedated time passing with every second.
"Is something troubling you?" Miss Springwell asked, revealing her beguiling sheens of white teeth. Her eyes widened as she exhaled a sweet breath of orchids. She tilted her head sideways in bewilderment as Ryo didn't move a single inch. Suddenly, she scooted her velvet stool forward and shifted her head closer to Ryo's face, examining the intricate details of his eyes.
"I... uh..." Ryo was silent and nervous, breaking from his trance. His face regretfully revealed his soft side by exposing his blushed pumpkin-like cheeks as Miss Springwell gazed into his thin-pupil eyes. Her mouth was slightly open as she lifted her head from side to side. The scent of orchids imbued Ryo's nostrils in such fascinating sweetness.
"I can see it," Miss Springwell's smooth and saccharine voice caught Ryo's daze off guard. "You have very unique eyes. Your pupils are lost in the trees as the wind brushes your spirit aside. I can see an empty void in your soul. Something recently departed, and you're lost. You wonder if you recover from such a strong denying motive. Am I correct?"
"Y-yeah," Ryo nervously replied, astounded by her ability to read his inner thoughts and emotions that drove him to stress. "I don't want to talk about it. I've done it enough."
"I understand," Miss Springwell replied, leaning back into her seat. "Something tells me in your eyes that you always know which path is correct, but you just don't know when or how to take it. You're distracted from your main goal. It's all disorderly… and unclear," With an angelic smile and giggle that filled Ryo's heart with positivity, Miss Springwell respected Ryo's privacy. "It was just a guess, that's all."
"A guess?" Ryo asked, keeping his composure. "I think that goes beyond a guess. You were spot on."
"I was?" Miss Springwell's bubbly outlook rose as her velvet eyebrows raised themselves in joy. "My family always told me I could read someone's personality just by looking into their eyes. I'm glad to know they weren't lying."
"No, they... they weren't..." Ryo nonchalantly finished his drink. He began pondering of something to say to keep their conversation going. "You... you sing very well, by the way." He complimented, remembering her resonating lyrics.
Miss Springwell placed the back of her palm against her glossy lips and skin, chuckling in response to his compliment. She blushed and firmly gazed at the table in nervousness. "Thanks. I'm not used to fans, to be honest. My family taught me how to play the guitar, so I thought it would be nice to express myself."
"It's... just... keep it up," Ryo had a difficult time expressing his words after Miss Springwell's innocent acknowledgment.
A couple approached Miss Springwell from behind, excited to interact with her in a conversation as dedicated fans. "Oh my god, it's Miss Springwell!" The joyous female in the couple fangirled over her presence. "My husband and I are such a big fan of you. We're regulars at this club and we've seen you perform three times already. Can I… can I get your autograph?"
"Why, yes! Of course." Miss Springwell gleefully accepted, delicately taking the fan's notebook and signing it with her initials in cursive letters: A.S. Ryo eyed the initials and sought to know her true name, yet he couldn't ask it on the spot. She handed the notebook back and smiled, revealing her halo-white teeth. "Here you go! Thanks for your support, and take care, now!" She wished.
"T-Thank you so much!" The couple thanked and bowed in respect. "I can't believe we got her autograph!"
Ryo's lightly smiled at Miss Springwell, surprised at her mannerisms not being biased from fame. She did not prevaricate from their special request or purposefully avert her eyes from them. "You just made their night." Ryo expressed, believing that Miss Springwell was a very wholesome individual without the biases of attention. Ryo was born with an attention-seeking nature embedded in his mind, and he was quite perplexed and jealous of her ability to restrain herself.
"It always feels nice to make someone happy," Miss Springwell explained her motivation. "Ooh, someone else is coming!"
Ryo turned his head back around; someone was arriving, but it was an individual who was barely approachable. The slender imbalanced and disjointed drunken hooligan slumped forwards with a bottle of alcohol in his wrinkly grasp. His scruffy black hair and elongated beard reeked of rancid garlic and pungent urine. His tattered and ragged clothes were like torn pieces of Ryo's parents' apartment walls with its occasional rainwater replaced with an unknown acidic liquid.
"Miss… Springwell, ugh…" The drunken man opened his darkened pale mouth, which reeked of rancid alcohol within his breath as he slurred his words. "I want… a selfie… please. Can I… gruhh… get a selfie?" He hiccuped, appearing overly enthusiastic.
"Of course you may," Miss Springwell accepted, standing near the drunken man showing off a peace sign to the smartphone he had held up. Ryo didn't understand why she accepted; clearly, the man was seeking to start trouble. "Cheese!" She cheered and smiled at the smartphone's camera, holding her pose.
"Cheese!" The drunken man slurred after her. With his left hand, the man smacked her bottom in a flirtatious manner. Miss Springwell yelped and jumped to the side, expressing distress with her jaw nearly crumbling to the ground. She stepped out of the camera shot, putting her hands together censured by his actions.
"Wha- what are you doing? I thought you wanted to take a… selfie?" The drunken man failed to realize the severity of his actions.
"Umm… right… I don't feel comfortable doing that right now, I'm sorry," Miss Springwell apologized.
"Aww, come on, baby!" The drunken man leaned forward as Miss Springwell demurred to his harrowing presence. "You were such a star on the stage... I just wanted a piece of that ass." He reached further with his mangled hands while Miss Springwell leaned back even further. Customers in the back casually enjoying the music in the crowd took notice, but those in the front where the light illuminated on stage couldn't hear the unnecessary ruckus. "Come on, let's have a drink-"
Ryo's hand lunged forward, snatching the drunken man's hand by his fingers. Claude watched Ryo assert himself with his cold and defiant personality from his Yakuza days, yanking on the man's mangled fingers and bending them back towards his wrist. Miss Springwell gasped, seeing Ryo's harnessing a belligerent and hostile attitude with his eyebrows lowering in disapproval. The drunken man's brittle voice arose in agony from his hand, desperately attempting to yank Ryo's grasp off.
"Let me go, you fucker!" The drunken man whimpered. "It hurts! IT HURTS!"
"Say you're sorry," Ryo commanded, refusing to release his grip.
"I'm SORRY! I'M SORRY!" The man pleaded for his life. However, this was only a deceptive ruse. "Psych, motherfucker!" The man dropped his smartphone with his other hand and brandished a butterfly knife from his pocket, swinging it at high speed against Ryo's cheek. Ryo evaded the blow with a neutral expression, slapping the knife out of his hand with his palm. Ryo stepped back, inserting his fingers into the man's tattered collar and ripping nearly ripping it. He slammed the man's forehead against the bartender's table, watching his unconscious body flail back against the wooden floors.
"HEY! You BASTARD!" Two of the drunken man's allies dressed in tattered leather clothing charged at Ryo with their butterfly knives. Ryo stood promisingly still, keeping an audacious barrier up with his neutral stance.
Upon the glimmering stage, a disc jockey pressed numerous buttons on his soundboard, invested in his techno music for the audience. Its pressurizing audio was too much for the audience to notice Ryo's scuffle in the back of the club. As one of the men assaulted Ryo, he slipped to the side, letting the force of his sprint trip across the bartender's table. Ryo struck the man's head with a powerful kick, knocking him unconscious.
"Okay, stop! We're sorry!" The final hoodlum dropped his butterfly knife on the ground and put his hands up to beg for forgiveness. "Who the hell is that guy!?" He sprinted out of the exit of the jazz club without retrieving his comrades, as he was filled with terror at Ryo's combat prowess.
Ryo exhaled a deep breath after exerting too much energy during his relaxation time. He turned around to see Miss Springwell's face shriveled like a raisin while tears of joy caressed down her blossomed cheeks. She broke down while Ryo remained bewildered at her tearful response. He guessed it might have been her culpable state of mind after defending her, Ryo believed.
"T-Thank you..." A mixture of reticent sweat and her tears flowed down her cheeks delicately as Miss Springwell profusely spoke to Ryo with her hands tied behind her. She dashed forward and relinquished her angelic aura by wrapping her arms around Ryo in kindness, embracing his body as a means of apology and thanks. Ryo froze on the spot, unable to reply in a means of appreciating her thanks. "If you weren't here... I don't know what would have happened."
"It's alright now." Ryo managed to reply in the end.
"Ryo?" Sumire called, approaching the bartender's table witnessing two of the unconscious drunken hoodlums underneath him. She watched as Miss Springwell released herself from Ryo, stepping aside to let them speak. However, Sumire's sneaky eyes were focused on Miss Springwell, suspiciously examining her stature. "You..."
"Please excuse me," Miss Springwell bowed to Ryo with forthright respect. She rose herself back up, smiling with determination at Ryo. Her emerald jeweled eyes were all Ryo paid attention to. "Thank you again!" She appreciated his defending kindness before speeding off backstage. Her minty orchid scent lingered even after she had left. Even the gaze upon her eyes stunned Ryo from a distance, even if she had vanished from sight.
"What the hell happened here?" Sumire asked, noticing several eyes gazing upon them after the live performance had ended. Constant insecure murmuring and mumbling were questioning about the scene that was overpowered by the disc jockey's techno tunes.
"Those two attacked me," Ryo explained. "I was trying to defend..." He turned back to the stage, inspired by her words. "That girl... who was she?"
Sumire gently tapped on Ryo's shoulder, keeping a stern and cautious expression at the stage. "We should probably go. People are looking at us, Ryo," She turned to Claude, who remained idle on the sidelines finishing up his polishing. It seemed from his natural blank and calm expression that impudent scuffles were a commonality within his jazz club. "Claude, I'll see you later, and put the drinks on my tab. Come on, Ryo! Let's go!" She forcefully yanked him out of the club.
"Take care, Sumire. And Ryo-boy." Claude saluted to the two of them.
Ryo and Sumire slipped out from the doors undetected. The bustling and clamorous traffic had subsided as time surged through midnight. The streets were nearly empty as streetlights illuminated each corner of each block. Ryo's strength struggled tremendously to even follow Sumire's path, still pondering about Miss Springwell's observational examination upon his thin pupils. Her phantasmagorical hypothesis about Ryo's childhood struggles was indefinitely accurate, and this mesmerized his heart. His pain was temporarily eased by her mellifluous voiced ideas, resonating with his ears like a songbird.
Without expression through words, Ryo attached himself to the back of Sumire's motorcycle, still piqued over Miss Springwell's statement. As Sumire attached her cat-themed motorcycle helmet on, she ignited her dual-exhaust Yoshimura before speeding and swerving off back to her townhouse. With the moonlight being their only massive source of light, Ryo had found another.
Minutes later, the duo had arrived back in the neighborhood. Crickets perched upon darkened oak fences chirped continuously and endlessly, snoring zealously amid the breezy midnight. Sumire lowered the speed of her motorcycle to not emerge as a rowdy delinquent in her calming neighborhood. She activated her garage door opener with a linked button placed on her motorcycle's citrus-orange dashboard, parking inside without another word. Ryo took heed of her cantankerous attitude, witnessing her place her fidgeting hands on her lean hips while ascending the stairs of her townhouse. Ryo passed by the glorifying statue of Natsu Higuchi, following in her wake.
Sumire spun around as her presence automatically turned on three sets of lights above her with sensor technology. Her nebulous-eyed gaze upon Ryo pouted with excessive rage. Ryo was left standing, muddled over her initial reaction. Yet he understood the consequences of his actions by revealing his Yakuza persona to the congruent public.
"What happened back there, Ryo?" Sumire criticized, detesting her brother's actions. "I thought we were supposed to celebrate back there, Ryo! Why did those two attack you?"
"One of them tried to touch that girl," Ryo explained, hoping to calm his sister down. "I wasn't going to stand there and do nothing. I'd be a fool if I did."
Sumire sighed, undressing her black bomber jacket and tossing it against the leather couch. She appeared lost in thought as Ryo caught her eyebrows raised and obscured by her fluffy black-haired side-swept bangs. "I... understand. I didn't know. But that girl looked so familiar. I feel like I've seen her somewhere." She expressed.
"Really? You have?" Ryo was concerned, sitting with his sister paying close attention.
"I just can't remember though..." Sumire's slender eyes lowered themselves, failing to recall. "Anyways... you can stay here for tonight. We'll figure out what to do about your living situation tomorrow-"
Without a second to act, Ryo leaned forward and embraced his sister with an affectionate hug. Inspired by Miss Springwell's words, Ryo sought initiative in his actions and wanted to truly celebrate his newly acquired addition to the family as a trustworthy sibling. Sumire's natural compassionate glow reflected upon Ryo's stout shoulders, enveloping him back with a loving grasp. Her cheeks flared red, speechless upon her brother's sudden morals. She knew this was a hug for family, a hug for friendship, and a hug for gratitude for these long nine years.
"Thank you, Sumire." Ryo appreciated.
"Y-You're welcome, moron..." Sumire teasingly quipped.
***
An hour had passed after their brotherly and sisterly declaration. Sumire and Ryo showered one after another, and Ryo hadn't witnessed Ash's petrifying gaze during his gallant wash. After acquiring a new toothbrush from Sumire's stash, he patiently and diligently brushed the hairs against his teeth, removing the minty freshness from the cider at the jazz club. His eyes matched against the mirror's reflection, catching his eyes to be minorly bloodshot from the dimly lit setting in the club.
Ten minutes later, after Sumire wished her brother a productive sleep while forcing him on her leather couch, all of the incandescent lights in Sumire's townhouse automatically faded. Ryo laid in silence as a double-layered teddy-bear themed blanket sheltered him from the coldness of the breezy midnight. He relaxed both of his stressed arms behind his jet-black hair, reflecting upon every single little detail that occurred today.
He had never expected to be rescued. Some unexpected feeling inside his heart wanted him to be the rescuer. Yet he never would have the opportunity if he never took it, he believed. He gazed outside Sumire's transparent glass windows, eyeing the cobalt and void-black terrestrial sky. The silver-ignited stars far in the distance of the amalgamation of blue colors twinkled at his eyes with an angelic radiance, no doubt imbued with the words of Miss Springwell. As his eyelids weighed themselves down with heaviness, Ryo caught a glimpse of an emerald light shining as his eyes squinted to a full close.
Ryo's smartphone vibrated abruptly, interrupting his alleviated moment. He powered on his new smartphone and noticed that he had received a new text message. He believed that it was Sumire, without a doubt testing features and reminding him of his newly acquired gift. With a single chuckle, Ryo tapped on the message and...
It was not Sumire. An unknown number texted Ryo during midnight, and its location services were activated. Ryo glanced deeper and accurately into the location of the sender. He nearly dropped his new smartphone when he realized that the sender was directly outside of Sumire's townhouse. He gasped in distress, pacing his mind back and forth wondering if he should call the police or Sumire to deal with an unknown intruder. His ephemeral attitude found him regretfully deciding to refuse. Reading the text message, it stated.
"It's been a while. I'm waiting outside."
Ryo's heart nearly stopped beating the moment his eyes scanned the message. Who was waiting outside? What do they mean, it's been a while? Ryo's mind sped through a list of acquaintances and individuals he previously knew, including Jiro, the ramen chef's heir. It could have been anyone, Ryo believed. Yet he inferred from the message that the unknown individual only wanted to see Ryo and no one else, which he reassured as a relief for his sister.
Ryo slipped out of his blanket and approached the garage door, slipping on his shoes. He pressed a glowing orange button near his entrance with his index finger. With another press to close the door, Ryo darted at full speed, rolling outside as the garage door closed to protect Sumire in case of emergency. But at the cost of her protection, Ryo would not be able to return without a valid excuse. Yet now was not the time for that, Ryo thought.
His black shoes pressed against the pavement gently with cautious steps, but during the midnight, it reverberated much louder than usual. Ryo swallowed his throat filled with saliva and focused on his surroundings, unwilling to let his benighted vision faze away from distant harm. The midnight breeze brushed his skin with frigidness, allowing myriad sets of goosebumps to form upon it with anticipation. Ryo received another text message from the unknown individual, stating three words that nearly made Ryo's heart seize on the spot:
"Behind you."
His reluctance to turn revealed itself with fear clouding his judgmental eyes. Ryo's traumatic sensation was returning, this time, encapsulating his back in a blanket of uncertainty. Anyone that Ryo had interacted with could have been behind him. A thief within the rival Yakuza gang that Ryo punished? A child from Ryo's middle school resurfacing to enact his revenge for his bullying? That one makes more sense, Ryo believed. Without a doubt, this moment was Ryo's pinnacle of sizable fear; nothing had made him even more afraid than now.
Am I going to die? Will my life end? But why? I wanted to redeem myself. I still have to see her...
Ryo's head ground against his neck as he creaked his attention behind him. A figure standing underneath an illuminated lamppost impishly smiled at Ryo's figure. His auburn hair appeared blonde with the light's refractory details. His pernicious gaze reminded Ryo of his childhood, watching as the man adorned in a slim-fit carbon-fiber full armored suit approached him with lethal intent. Ryo knew immediately who he was, and as soon as he did, Miss Springwell's words had dissipated from his mind, forever lost from its former faith. Now, his journey for heartfelt redemption was exacerbated.
The light had vanished.
"Good to see you, brother."