Before any serious talk began, Yasushi and the others settled in to cool off, giving him time to let go of the anger that had been simmering beneath his calm exterior. For the next hour, they lounged around, letting the strain of earlier moments dissipate.
Some of them leaned back, closing their eyes to the soft hum of music, while others drifted into games, finding brief moments of escape as Yinhaie and the rest of the staff worked quietly in the background, each careful movement adding to the anticipation of the meal they were putting together.
At last, after that quiet hour passed, dinner was announced, and they moved back to the dining room. The smell of Yinhaie's cooking drifted in waves, filling the space, almost like it was doing its part to push aside the silent tension that had woven through the room since they'd arrived.
They settled into their seats, offering polite smiles, light comments, as if trying to mask any strain left from the day. And while there was a trace of something left unsaid floating between them, they kept the conversation light, focusing on what was directly in front of them, finishing the meal with practiced calm.
When dinner wrapped up, they drifted back into the living room. It was time to hear what Yasushi had to say. He took a deep breath, the room growing still, everyone waiting, the faintest air of expectation settling over them.
"So," he began, letting out a long exhale, "to start, things actually went…well, better than I expected." His tone held a mix of relief and hesitation, as if each word carried more weight than he'd let on. "You know, the usual greetings, handshakes, and all that formal stuff — and then, I went straight into it. Laid out my ideas, my plans, what I'm hoping to achieve for Ginsukimura."
He let his words hang for a moment, his frown tightening as the memory replayed in his mind. "But that was it," he said, his voice dropping. "After I wrapped up my speech, which went on for about ten minutes or so, they didn't respond right away. Just sat there, staring, until one of them started snickering, and then the rest joined in. At first, I didn't even know what to make of it."
He took a pause, his eyes narrowing as he remembered their laughter. "Then, after they'd finished their little show, they went on to tell me that what I'd said was nothing they hadn't already heard. They claimed it was the same sort of talk their own kids threw at them now and then — ideas they just shrugged off. They admitted that some of the points I raised actually made sense, but then came the kicker. They said, in their words, 'But we just don't have the budget for something like that, especially not for those junkies slumming it out in shelters or on the street.' And I could feel my blood boiling."
He sucked in a deep breath, holding back what seemed like the urge to punch something. "It was clear from that moment — they'd been raised with money, comfortable, never needing to worry much about anything outside their little bubble. When I asked Nandini to dig up some details on them, she pulled up all I needed to know. That wealth? It hadn't been earned from clawing their way up or grinding through any real hardship. Most of them were born right into it, handed every comfort while pretending to understand the struggles of everyone else."
Yasushi exhaled hard, struggling to hold back the fire simmering inside him. He took in another breath, deeper this time, forcing himself to settle down. "Before I left — or really, before they threw me out — I caught one of them muttering something. He said, 'What's the big deal with the homeless? Why can't they just work harder, save up, and eventually stand on their own? They're just lazy, addicted junkies.' And right then, I was ready to beat some sense into him."
His grip tightened on his knee, knuckles turning pale, every word seething. "They look down on these people, treating them like they're less than human just because they're homeless. It's disgusting. It's wrong. I want to do more than just put a band-aid on homelessness in this place — I want to tear the corruption and greed out of every corner where it hides in this city."
The others sat there, momentarily struck by the weight of his words, the shift in his tone, but they stayed silent, waiting for him to say more.
"But that's not something I can do alone. It's going to take time, and I'll need help." Yasushi's gaze landed on each one of them before turning to Xinyi. "That's why I'd like to ask for you, Yinhaie, and Nandini — and maybe someone you trust from your staff — to join me on this."
Yinhaie exchanged a glance with Nandini before turning back to Yasushi, her expression questioning. "Is that really what you want to pursue?"
Nandini, eyes serious, gave a nod. "Yasushi, that kind of ambition isn't something you can achieve quickly. It's not like flipping a switch; it's closer to throwing yourself against a wall. For where you are now, it's like challenging the gods themselves. It'll mean gathering years' worth of evidence, testimonies, statements — not just a few months of work. So, we have to ask, are you absolutely certain?"
Yasushi's eyes stayed on theirs, steady, unwavering. He gave a firm nod. "Yes. This is what I want, what I need to do. But there's more than one path to get my vision for this city underway. Sure, that's one approach, but it's not the only one. There are other ways to get the ball rolling — the same methods I brought up to those arrogant suits who couldn't be bothered to remember any of it."
They waited, anticipation flickering in their eyes, inviting him to continue without pressing him.
"Nonprofit organizations and advocacy groups are one place to start," he went on, his voice taking on an edge, "but that's not where it has to end. There's another route that's right here, within reach — something we can start working on immediately. Think about our own college. And there are other universities scattered across the city."
As he spoke, a sly grin started spreading across his face, a spark of determination edging into his expression, ready for the long game.
Nandini gave a nod, her expression calm but thoughtful. "Starting small could be the way forward. You're definitely not alone in feeling this way about the homelessness here. But do you think others will actually stand with you on this?"
Yasushi met her gaze, steady. "I know a few will. But it's not just about the few; I'll have to reach out to a lot of other groups, convince some, get others on board, and push them to take this on with me. I can't manage all of it on my own, which is why I'm asking our friends to join in and anyone else who's willing."
Nandini studied him, her eyes intense, absorbing his words. After a few moments, she gave another nod. "Then we'll handle what we can from our side. Yinhaie and I, along with whoever Lady Xinyi decides to assign, will focus on getting...the kind of information that might make those council people nervous."
Yasushi gave a nod, his voice steady as he replied, "Alright, then. I'll leave this to you two, and we'll keep pushing on our end. Even if this drags on for months, maybe even years, as long as those in power end up facing the consequences, I'll consider it worth the wait. Hopefully, the new mayor isn't tangled up in all of this — I actually like her."
Nandini gave a nod, acknowledging his words, and the group turned their focus to other parts of this plan they were building together. By the end of their conversation, they had ironed out the steps they'd each take, moving forward in ways that would target those who exploited their positions.
This shift also meant more responsibility would fall on Layena, Yunxue, and Catherine, each of them having to take on more in their roles to support Yasushi, Jingliu, and Xinyi. They all agreed to this adjustment, understanding what it meant, and feeling prepared for the road ahead.
+-+
"Heard city hall didn't take you too seriously, huh?" Furuya said, stepping over through the snow with a cup of boba tea in each hand, passing one over to Yasushi.
Yasushi, who'd been out walking alone, looked at his friend and let out a small laugh. "Seriously, how'd you even find out? Was it Xinyi?"
Furuya shrugged. "Everyone knows. She threw it in the group chat, then flooded it with message after message, cursing and raging on your behalf. It's basically all we've been hearing for the last ten minutes," he explained, chuckling. "So? What now, boss? Xinyi wouldn't say anything beyond 'Wait till Yasushi tells you.'"
Yasushi took a long sip, letting the coolness settle in his chest before he sighed and broke down his idea step by step. He didn't hold anything back, laying out exactly how he wanted to move forward from here, how he planned to hit back by rallying support in the city — starting from their own college and spreading outwards.
Furuya nodded as he listened, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, absorbing every word. When Yasushi finished, Furuya gave a nod of his own. "Count me in. And some of the folks I've been hanging out with might want to join up too. Couple of them almost ended up homeless themselves; their folks got lucky and landed work just in time, but it was close." He glanced up, watching snowflakes tumble against the dark sky, an almost pensive look flickering over his face as he thought back.
"But…" Furuya stopped, that familiar grin creeping onto his face. "I don't think I've ever seen you this fired up over something. Even back when you were 'leading' us around in high school, it never looked like you were really invested in it. Why now? Why this?" he asked, turning to face Yasushi.
Yasushi looked back at him, thinking over the question. Was it true he hadn't shown much intensity? He'd assumed he put in as much as anyone else, maybe even pushed a bit harder at times. Yet, as he thought about the last two years, he found himself questioning it, wondering what Furuya had really seen.
"Really? I figured I was passionate about a few things here and there," he muttered, still mulling it over, not entirely convinced.
Furuya raised an eyebrow. "Sure, you'd match our energy, even crank it up once in a while if you were in the mood, but passion? The rest of us would get all into it, fully committed. But you? You'd just sit there, watching like you were studying everything, sizing up the whole scene, figuring out the next move like one of those brainy anime guys."
He laughed, his voice carrying a trace of amusement as he continued, "You always gave the impression you were one step ahead, like you were just waiting to play your hand."
Yasushi shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the snowy ground as he let out a breath. "No, that wasn't what I was trying to do, and it definitely wasn't intentional. Maybe I just wanted to stay careful, keeping an eye on things before acting. And, let's be real — I didn't always sit back. There were times when I just went in swinging, no planning, just my fists handling it. But this one… well, things don't work that way outside of school. If I try pulling that here, I'd end up in prison."
Furuya let out a short laugh, nodding. "Yeah, I remember that well. You were doing that even when we were kids. You pulled that act off on our teachers more than once — both in elementary and middle school, though most of the time you just stayed out of trouble. Why not try that approach again? You're dealing with spoiled brats who only have their connections to lean on. You could probably get them to trip up, say something stupid, just with that attitude of yours."
Yasushi looked at him for a moment, considering the suggestion before he cracked a grin. "I want to handle it through the right channels this time. But… if it comes to that, I'm not saying I won't use it."
The two friends stayed there a while longer, tossing around ideas, sharing laughs, their conversation drifting into memories of their school days, when life seemed simpler, or maybe just less tangled. After a while, they parted, agreeing to get together more often, now that college classes, new faces, and Furuya's extra hours at his part-time job had pulled them in different directions for so long.
Yasushi headed toward home, his steps muffled in the snow-covered streets. Snowflakes floated down around him, landing on his coat, his shoulders, soft reminders of the quiet around him. Every now and then, he glanced upward, catching glimpses of the night sky between thick clouds, thoughts circling back to the choices he'd been making. A part of him wondered if he was really doing the right thing, taking on something this big, especially at his age.
He took a breath, pushing the thought aside. "No… it's fine," he murmured, almost to himself. "I have to make something of this life, to do something that means something. And if there's any way to give back, then that's where I'll start." He continued forward, his pace steady, his gaze set firmly on the road ahead.