145.
Title: How Does His Garden Grow?
Pairing/Characters: Massu, Koyama/Kato
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for brief mentions of amorous activities and violence.
Prompt: #145. Massu the peeping gardener
Summary: Massu, also known as “Green Thumb,” offers to take the right to work on someone’s yard as repayment for the debt they owe his yakuza uncle.
A/N: The peeping isn’t really the main focus here, sorry.
They call him “Green Thumb” because leafy tendrils span the length of his arm all the way to said digits. They say that before he starts a fight, he always stretches his hands out in front of him and displays the trademark ink, giving his would-be opponents a chance to back out gracefully. They say that before he kills a man, he gouges out their eyes with his thumbs, so that his green is the last thing they ever see. They say he likes gyoza.
They are mostly correct. Especially about the last little fact.
In another life, Massu would have been a gardener. But in this life, he is the son of the daughter of the brother of the wife of Kenichi Shinoda. And (technically Great, though Massu always leaves it off when addressing the man) Uncle Shino likes him a lot, likes to use him a lot.
It’s easy to like Massu. He’s good-natured and easy-going. The only thing he wants out of life is to eat a plate of his mother’s gyoza every day. Gardening is his favorite hobby. It isn’t unusual to find him crouched in the verdant little patch that serves as his mother’s miniscule front lawn, chatting amiably to the flowers he planted that spring. He uses scissors to trim the grass that borders the driveway and winces when people trod on it instead of using the artful stepping stones that he installed the day they moved in. The bird and butterfly feeders are always full, and he scrubs the birdbath once a week. On a bi-monthly basis, oblivious to how ridiculous he looks, he straps on a pair of soccer cleat-esque aerating shoes and tramps across the yard; every six months he rents a professional grade aerating machine to get down really deep. Thanks to Massu’s attentiveness and innate ability to make things come to life in the exact shape that he wants them to, his mother’s lawn puts everyone else’s to shame.
Given the nature of his occupation, which has the potential to require his presence any hour of the day or night, it’s rare for Massu to spend as much time in the garden as he’d like.“My busy green thumbed boy,” Massu’s mother says affectionately, ironically. She is deaf to any comments about Massu that aren’t complimentary, and is therefore ignorant of the epithet used almost exclusively by those who fear him.
Massu doesn’t like his job very much. In his private dreams, he’s a gardener with calluses on his hands and dirt on his face. But it was never an option. From the moment he won his first fistfight in elementary school (a middle school kid tried to take his lunch and learned about Massu’s love for food the hard way), Uncle Shino had his eye on him, and wasted no time inducting Massu into the family business after he graduated.
Uncle Shino trustshim unconditionally because he’s completely unambitious. He can tellMassu: “have my back, and if things go south, take care of it” and trust that Massu won’t try to double-cross him to get something for himself. Massu’s presence keeps his other, more power-hungry, underlings in check, because they know Massu is under orders to report any signs of insubordination. His simple honesty first earned their animosity, then their respect. Before the “Green Thumb” thing caught on, he was actually called “The Virtuous Gangster” for a while.
It helps that he has a well-deserved reputation for being one of the strongest men in the Yamaguchi family. Nobody particularly cares about Massu’s green thumb, except for maybe his mother and her jealous neighbors, but lots of people who live on the less legal side of life worry about his green thumbs, which are metonymous for his innate ability to skillfully wield any weapon and execute all combat techniques.
Even though Massu is able to parse the distinction between being a violent man (which he isn’t) and being good at violence because his work requires it of him (which is does), sometimes it’s hard to remain good-natured and easy-going when he thinks about what his occupation entails. On those days, he takes an hour or two off and obsesses over his mother’s already perfect lawn until she drags him inside, serves him a plate of gyoza, and reminds him that he’s doing his familial duty. She knows that he’s feeling better when he smiles at her and asks if she’d like a teeny-tiny vegetable garden, or maybe some more flowers.
After a particularly grueling night at work,Massu wakes up earlier than usual, hoping to get the chance to re-pot some of the indoor plants before he’s called in. It doesn’t happen, because Kato contacts him just as he’s about to begin.
Kato’s one of the smartest men in the payment of the Yamaguchi group. Officially, he manages a small company, but it only exists on paper. In reality he’s a business advisor and personal assistant of sorts, offering his expertise and intelligence to Uncle Shino for an appropriate salary. He could have been a top-tier CEO or CFO, or anything he wanted, really, if his father hadn’t been a convicted murderer. Thanks to his family background, no university would accept him, and Kato would have been relegated to working menial jobs ill suited to his savvy if Uncle Shino hadn’t happened upon him. A few years of quasi-apprenticeship to Uncle Shino and some of his associates supplied him with all the formal training he needed to augment his natural head for business. Kato blossomed into a great asset of questionable status: he has no intention of becoming a member of the Yamaguchi, but he is sworn to work for them exclusively. Many of the men regard him warily as an outsider who knows way too much. Massu has never had a problem with him.
“Good morning, Kato,” he says pleasantly, voice betraying none of the disappointment that he feels. A call from Kato invariably indicates that he’ll soon be separated from his plants.
“Good morning. If I send a car over in fifteen minutes, will you be ready to go?”
Massu agrees, changes into work clothes, and is waiting on the stoop when the shiny black automobile pulls up.
“That’s a… an eye-catching outfit.” Kato calls by way of greeting, opening up the passenger door from the inside.
It certainly is: his silver suit is made of faux-snakeskin, the cuffs of his pants rolled up to reveal his socks. They are patterned with balloons, just like his tie. His shoes are two-toned high tops, yellow and black, and his belt buckle screams “JOHNNY” in large gold letters. Massu had questionable fashion sense even before he became a yakuza: his occupation just justifies it, sort of.
In his navy suit and matching tie, Kato looks like a traditional businessman. The only indication of otherwise is a discrete lapel pin of the Yamaguchi insignia and his fauxhawk that gleams, shiny and sharp, with hair gel, not dissimilar to a shark’s dorsal fin.
Massu tries to swallow his sigh as Kato turns onto the highway, but Kato hears it anyways. “This isn’t exactly my idea of a fun Saturday either. But when the kumicho says ‘take care of business,’ well, that business had better damn well be taken care of sooner, rather than later.”
Recalling who he’s talking too, Kato hastily adds: “you’re great uncle, like most bosses, appreciates expediency. Nothing wrong with that, it keeps everything functioning with optimal efficiency.”
“Yes,” is all Massu can say, because that’s the truth. Anyways, it won’t hurt the plants to wait a little longer.
Kato explains that they’re going to visit a man who bought his sister out of one of their prostitution rings on credit, but hasn’t been able to pay back his debt. It’s his and Massu’s job to collect, either money or the girl.
Presently they arrive at the man’s given address, a house that apparently doubles as a ramen shop out in the countryside. It’s an elegantly functional building, a fine example of traditional architecture, and Massu imagines that it’s been in the family for generations. However, the condition of the surrounding grounds detracts horribly from the elegance of the modest but lovely estate. Massu winces as he takes in the weedy grass, untrimmed trees and hedges, dirty gutters, and dying flowers.
The smell of meaty broth and starchy noodles permeates the whole building and has Massu salivating from the moment they step inside. Maybe he can get the guy to serve him some ramen before they take care of business (Massu doubts that he’ll feel inclined to after).
Fortunately, there are no customers in the restaurant area of the home, just a man in an apron who is presumably Keiichiro Koyama because he blanches when he sees them and starts reaching for one of the wicked looking cleavers in his chopping block.
“If you please,” Kato says, unnecessarily, because Massu is already moving to restrain their target who, though tall with well-developed arms, is no match for his strength. After manhandling him to the table that Kato has chosen, Massu makes him sit and tries not to think about how desperate and scared the ramen chef looks. There will be time enough to feel guilty when his job is done.
His mind wanders as Kato presumably questions the man about whether he can pay what he owes and where his sister is located if they need to repossess her. He thinks about the land, and how wonderful it would be to make it blossom and flourish. It comes to life in his mind’s eye and his green thumbs twitch with pent-up desire to do what they were born to.
Koyama misinterprets the gesture and breaks out into a cold sweat. He doesn’t have the money. If he did, it’d already have been in the yakuza’s hands. But there’s no way in hell he’s giving his sister back to these monsters. She’d sold herself into their service when she’d been unsuccessful in finding a job in the big city after moving away from home. She didn’t want to be a burden on her family; this was when Koyama had just opened the restaurant, and was barely making ends meet since he had to support their parents completely. After two years and two sons she’d tried to leave, but found that she couldn't pay the requisite fee and, desperate, had finally turned to Koyama. Horrified, he immediately indebted himself to buy her freedom, and that brought them here. Now she crouched in a closet upstairs, clutching her sons and sending up supplications to any deity that would hear them while Koyama’s mind worked desperately to think of a way, any way, to get the yakuza to give them a little more time.
Kato is growing impatient. He loathes this part of his job, and the fact that he can’t stop thinking about how attractive Koyama is in spite of the ugly fear that twists his features is only making this harder. Just as he opens his mouth to request that Massu fetch their whore, Massu says blandly: “I’ll take on the debt if you’ll let me work on your yard.”
There is a moment of stunned silence. Then Koyama shouts: “absolutely, yes!” before Massu can change his mind.
Kato is still dumbfounded and only regains the ability to speak as he’s walking out the door with a check from Massu to be cashed at the nearest branch of the bank he uses. “What will your uncle say?”
“He’ll probably laugh and say I’m strong enough to do as I please,” is Massu’s calm response, and Kato can’t deny that his presumption is a reasonable one. “As long as the money is good, it doesn’t matter where it comes from, does it?”
Massu has never been an extravagant spender. He’d buy his mother the world if she asked for it, but she doesn’t, because she’s frugal-minded and manages their household as such. Though Massu loves shopping, he prefers clothes that are ‘unique’ to those made by brand-name designers, and seldom purchases things that are exorbitantly priced by virtue of their maker. And he certainly doesn’t have a significant other to buy things for.
(The only serious relationship that Massu has ever had was with another yakuza in his organization. Their romance developed after the two of them engaged in avaguely homoerotic bonding exercise at one of their organization’s onsen retreats, which soured what could have long-lasting amorous affair. Massu always faintly wondered if Shoon wasn’t just sticking around because he felt obligated, and he was sure that Shoon worried about whether or not Massu would ever try to pull rank and force him to do something he wasn’t comfortable with. It had been nice though: Shoon called him “darling,”he called Shoon “honey” in return, and aside from the niggling details related to their status the affair had been idyllic. They ended it when Shoon decided to go back to the straight and narrow path of life, and Massu missed him faintly, occasionally, like their relationship had been over for fifty years instead of five.)
Nor is he particularly impulsive. But the wild land called to Massu, and he couldn’t bring himself to ignore it.
Anyways, paying Koyama’s debt causes him no hardship. Conversely, it brings him the most joy that he’s ever had. He toils away on the grounds any time he has the opportunity to, gradually transforming it into a verdant work of living beauty.
Conscientious of the common folk, Massu is vigilant in keeping his tattoos concealed, wearing long sleeves even in the hottest weather. It’s uncomfortable, and has the undesired effect of calling attention to him from worried restaurant patrons, but Massu is patient with them, repeatedly explaining that he prefers to keep his upper body covered until everyone eventually accepts it as “one of the gardener’s cute quirks.”
The set-up of the house/restaurant turned Massu’s passionate endeavors in the yard into a spectator sport from the start. People peep at him through the window as they eat, entertained by the tireless way he tackles a seemingly endless list of projects. At first Koyama attempted to stop them, however not being the slightest bit of an authoritarian, his gesture was completely in vain, and he soon gave up andjust let them watch, even joining them in giving him a glance now and then. It doesn’t bother Massu, as he’s usually too wrapped up in whatever he’s doing to spare a second of care for anything other than the plant life before him. Upon occasion he’ll glance up, meet someone’s eyes, and wave merrily, to their delight.
One evening, Koyama calls him into the restaurant. The invitation surprises Massu greatly. Though Koyama has always been grateful and accommodating to the utmost, allowing Massu unrestricted access to his land and providing him with cool drinks throughout the day unasked, Massu hasn’t stepped foot into his home since the day he came to collect Koyama’s debt. Waiting for Massu is a bowl of piping hot ramen.
The following evening, Koyama invites him in again. It quickly becomes the norm for Massu to take his dinner with Koyama and the other customers. He gets along well with everyone, and nobody questions his identity because they have no reason to believe that he isn’t a friendly gardener with odd fashion sense and a big, bright smile.
Two incidents marred the otherwise idyllic experience, but Massu prefers not to think about them.
The first occurred when several young punks from a different yakuza organization had the misguided notion to try and cause trouble in Koyama’s restaurant. They sauntered in just as Massu was tucking into his first bowl of ramen, demanding immediate service. Koyama catered to their needs like he would any other customers, trying to mask his nervousness unsuccessfully. Massu observed, expressionless, as the juvenile gangsters grew more and more disruptive, causing the other diners in droves, telling Koyama that they didn’t blame him but that they none-the-less preferred to take their meals in peace, which they obviously weren’t going to get here.
When there were no other witnesses, Massu acted. He got to his feet and rolled up his sleeves a little, making sure that the vines that grew down his arms to his thumb-tips were clearly visible. The other yakuza, who had their backs to him, continued with their antics obliviously. So he cleared his throat repeatedly until they turned to look at him.
“Good evening,” he said with one of his trademark grins, waving slowly with both hands outstretched.
“The fuck-” the one wearing a dozen rings began to bluster before shutting himself up abruptly.
“Green Thumb,” the one wearing a checkered vest that Massu thought would look good on him squeaked impotently.
The others said nothing at all, and as a single unit they stood up to leave, not wanting to provoke Green Thumb’s infamous wrath.
“Your bill,” Massu reminded them gently.
Wordlessly, they piled all the money they had on them onto the counter.
“I’ll walk you out.” He didn’t trust them not to trod on the newly seeded grass.
Koyama thanked him profusely when Massu returned from escorting them off the premises. However, he was subdued and clearly a bit scared, and refused to meet Massu’s eyes until were completely covered, at which point his bubbly demeanor returned. For obvious reasons, Koyama preferred not to be reminded who Massu really was. And Massu liked taking a break from that identity as well; he preferred to be looked at as a gardener, as a friend, rather than as a thug.
The second incident was not anyone’s fault, unless Massu chooses to blame the windows. But it does involve the yakuza.
When Massu first began working on Koyama’s lawn, Kato was inordinately interested in it. Subtlety not being Kato’s strongest suit, Massu quickly caught on that he didn’t actually want to see how the hedges were coming along, but that he wanted a (pleasant) reason to go see the ramen shop owner again. Once Massu and Koyama became friends, Massu took on the role of a sly wingman.
“I don’t even understand why I like him,” Kato confessed after failing once again to get Koyama to talk to him. “Or why he won’t speak to me, for that matter. He talks to you enough!”
Massu shrugged. Matters of the heart have always escaped his comprehension. “Maybe you could try working in his garden too?”
It turns out that Massu’s idea was a good one, but only because Kato isn’t handy at all. He got a splinter two seconds into trying to help Massu put up a new fence, and ran into the restaurant yelling about blood poisoning and amputation until Koyama grabbed his non-injured hand and held him still long enough to remove the tiny chip of wood. After that, Koyama stopped being intimidated by Kato and began to shyly respond to his advances.
Kato frequently came to Koyama’s place to get ramen and talk and flirt. Koyama wasn’t at all shy about sharing what transpired between them with Massu and would have happily imparted every detail, sweet, sordid, or otherwise, if Massu hadn’t stopped him. There were some things that he really didn’t need to know.
On the far side of Koyama’s property, shielded from view by a grove of privacy trees, was an old sauna. Though it was old and hadn’t been used for years, it worked perfectly when Massu tested it out, except that the benches inside had collapsed.
Massu thought that it’d be polite to ask Koyama before he started building benches, even though he knew that Koyama would let him do anything he wanted whether he asked or not. As he headed back towards the house, he noticed that there seemed to be less activity in the restaurant than usual; in fact, it seemed deserted, and Massu began to wonder why.
He got his answer as soon as the house, with its plethora of windows, came into view. Kato and Koyama were kissing in the kitchen. He continued staring, completely shocked, until Koyama dropped to his knees, at which point he gasped, shook his head vigorously, and stumbled back in the direction of the sauna.
Massu decided to make the executive decision to start building some new benches. Koyama could be consulted retroactively.
After that, Massu accidentally caught Koyama and Kato together a couple more times (he counted each subsequent time as an extension of the first incident). The sheer number of windows combined with the fact that the couple wasn’t bashful at all about displaying physical affection meant that it couldn’t be helped. For someone as shy as Massu, it was torturous. He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Koyama or Kato to be more careful, since that would involve admitting that he’d seen them.
Massu gardens because he wants to help plants be their most beautiful selves. But he can’t deny that the happiness he feels when someone compliments him on his handiwork; it’s equal to the pleasure he gets seeing a flower in full bloom, if not stronger.
Now if only Koyama and Kato would quit fraternizing in full view. Then everything would be perfect.
Pairing/Characters: Massu, Koyama/Kato
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for brief mentions of amorous activities and violence.
Prompt: #145. Massu the peeping gardener
Summary: Massu, also known as “Green Thumb,” offers to take the right to work on someone’s yard as repayment for the debt they owe his yakuza uncle.
A/N: The peeping isn’t really the main focus here, sorry.
They call him “Green Thumb” because leafy tendrils span the length of his arm all the way to said digits. They say that before he starts a fight, he always stretches his hands out in front of him and displays the trademark ink, giving his would-be opponents a chance to back out gracefully. They say that before he kills a man, he gouges out their eyes with his thumbs, so that his green is the last thing they ever see. They say he likes gyoza.
They are mostly correct. Especially about the last little fact.
In another life, Massu would have been a gardener. But in this life, he is the son of the daughter of the brother of the wife of Kenichi Shinoda. And (technically Great, though Massu always leaves it off when addressing the man) Uncle Shino likes him a lot, likes to use him a lot.
It’s easy to like Massu. He’s good-natured and easy-going. The only thing he wants out of life is to eat a plate of his mother’s gyoza every day. Gardening is his favorite hobby. It isn’t unusual to find him crouched in the verdant little patch that serves as his mother’s miniscule front lawn, chatting amiably to the flowers he planted that spring. He uses scissors to trim the grass that borders the driveway and winces when people trod on it instead of using the artful stepping stones that he installed the day they moved in. The bird and butterfly feeders are always full, and he scrubs the birdbath once a week. On a bi-monthly basis, oblivious to how ridiculous he looks, he straps on a pair of soccer cleat-esque aerating shoes and tramps across the yard; every six months he rents a professional grade aerating machine to get down really deep. Thanks to Massu’s attentiveness and innate ability to make things come to life in the exact shape that he wants them to, his mother’s lawn puts everyone else’s to shame.
Given the nature of his occupation, which has the potential to require his presence any hour of the day or night, it’s rare for Massu to spend as much time in the garden as he’d like.“My busy green thumbed boy,” Massu’s mother says affectionately, ironically. She is deaf to any comments about Massu that aren’t complimentary, and is therefore ignorant of the epithet used almost exclusively by those who fear him.
Massu doesn’t like his job very much. In his private dreams, he’s a gardener with calluses on his hands and dirt on his face. But it was never an option. From the moment he won his first fistfight in elementary school (a middle school kid tried to take his lunch and learned about Massu’s love for food the hard way), Uncle Shino had his eye on him, and wasted no time inducting Massu into the family business after he graduated.
Uncle Shino trustshim unconditionally because he’s completely unambitious. He can tellMassu: “have my back, and if things go south, take care of it” and trust that Massu won’t try to double-cross him to get something for himself. Massu’s presence keeps his other, more power-hungry, underlings in check, because they know Massu is under orders to report any signs of insubordination. His simple honesty first earned their animosity, then their respect. Before the “Green Thumb” thing caught on, he was actually called “The Virtuous Gangster” for a while.
It helps that he has a well-deserved reputation for being one of the strongest men in the Yamaguchi family. Nobody particularly cares about Massu’s green thumb, except for maybe his mother and her jealous neighbors, but lots of people who live on the less legal side of life worry about his green thumbs, which are metonymous for his innate ability to skillfully wield any weapon and execute all combat techniques.
Even though Massu is able to parse the distinction between being a violent man (which he isn’t) and being good at violence because his work requires it of him (which is does), sometimes it’s hard to remain good-natured and easy-going when he thinks about what his occupation entails. On those days, he takes an hour or two off and obsesses over his mother’s already perfect lawn until she drags him inside, serves him a plate of gyoza, and reminds him that he’s doing his familial duty. She knows that he’s feeling better when he smiles at her and asks if she’d like a teeny-tiny vegetable garden, or maybe some more flowers.
After a particularly grueling night at work,Massu wakes up earlier than usual, hoping to get the chance to re-pot some of the indoor plants before he’s called in. It doesn’t happen, because Kato contacts him just as he’s about to begin.
Kato’s one of the smartest men in the payment of the Yamaguchi group. Officially, he manages a small company, but it only exists on paper. In reality he’s a business advisor and personal assistant of sorts, offering his expertise and intelligence to Uncle Shino for an appropriate salary. He could have been a top-tier CEO or CFO, or anything he wanted, really, if his father hadn’t been a convicted murderer. Thanks to his family background, no university would accept him, and Kato would have been relegated to working menial jobs ill suited to his savvy if Uncle Shino hadn’t happened upon him. A few years of quasi-apprenticeship to Uncle Shino and some of his associates supplied him with all the formal training he needed to augment his natural head for business. Kato blossomed into a great asset of questionable status: he has no intention of becoming a member of the Yamaguchi, but he is sworn to work for them exclusively. Many of the men regard him warily as an outsider who knows way too much. Massu has never had a problem with him.
“Good morning, Kato,” he says pleasantly, voice betraying none of the disappointment that he feels. A call from Kato invariably indicates that he’ll soon be separated from his plants.
“Good morning. If I send a car over in fifteen minutes, will you be ready to go?”
Massu agrees, changes into work clothes, and is waiting on the stoop when the shiny black automobile pulls up.
“That’s a… an eye-catching outfit.” Kato calls by way of greeting, opening up the passenger door from the inside.
It certainly is: his silver suit is made of faux-snakeskin, the cuffs of his pants rolled up to reveal his socks. They are patterned with balloons, just like his tie. His shoes are two-toned high tops, yellow and black, and his belt buckle screams “JOHNNY” in large gold letters. Massu had questionable fashion sense even before he became a yakuza: his occupation just justifies it, sort of.
In his navy suit and matching tie, Kato looks like a traditional businessman. The only indication of otherwise is a discrete lapel pin of the Yamaguchi insignia and his fauxhawk that gleams, shiny and sharp, with hair gel, not dissimilar to a shark’s dorsal fin.
Massu tries to swallow his sigh as Kato turns onto the highway, but Kato hears it anyways. “This isn’t exactly my idea of a fun Saturday either. But when the kumicho says ‘take care of business,’ well, that business had better damn well be taken care of sooner, rather than later.”
Recalling who he’s talking too, Kato hastily adds: “you’re great uncle, like most bosses, appreciates expediency. Nothing wrong with that, it keeps everything functioning with optimal efficiency.”
“Yes,” is all Massu can say, because that’s the truth. Anyways, it won’t hurt the plants to wait a little longer.
Kato explains that they’re going to visit a man who bought his sister out of one of their prostitution rings on credit, but hasn’t been able to pay back his debt. It’s his and Massu’s job to collect, either money or the girl.
Presently they arrive at the man’s given address, a house that apparently doubles as a ramen shop out in the countryside. It’s an elegantly functional building, a fine example of traditional architecture, and Massu imagines that it’s been in the family for generations. However, the condition of the surrounding grounds detracts horribly from the elegance of the modest but lovely estate. Massu winces as he takes in the weedy grass, untrimmed trees and hedges, dirty gutters, and dying flowers.
The smell of meaty broth and starchy noodles permeates the whole building and has Massu salivating from the moment they step inside. Maybe he can get the guy to serve him some ramen before they take care of business (Massu doubts that he’ll feel inclined to after).
Fortunately, there are no customers in the restaurant area of the home, just a man in an apron who is presumably Keiichiro Koyama because he blanches when he sees them and starts reaching for one of the wicked looking cleavers in his chopping block.
“If you please,” Kato says, unnecessarily, because Massu is already moving to restrain their target who, though tall with well-developed arms, is no match for his strength. After manhandling him to the table that Kato has chosen, Massu makes him sit and tries not to think about how desperate and scared the ramen chef looks. There will be time enough to feel guilty when his job is done.
His mind wanders as Kato presumably questions the man about whether he can pay what he owes and where his sister is located if they need to repossess her. He thinks about the land, and how wonderful it would be to make it blossom and flourish. It comes to life in his mind’s eye and his green thumbs twitch with pent-up desire to do what they were born to.
Koyama misinterprets the gesture and breaks out into a cold sweat. He doesn’t have the money. If he did, it’d already have been in the yakuza’s hands. But there’s no way in hell he’s giving his sister back to these monsters. She’d sold herself into their service when she’d been unsuccessful in finding a job in the big city after moving away from home. She didn’t want to be a burden on her family; this was when Koyama had just opened the restaurant, and was barely making ends meet since he had to support their parents completely. After two years and two sons she’d tried to leave, but found that she couldn't pay the requisite fee and, desperate, had finally turned to Koyama. Horrified, he immediately indebted himself to buy her freedom, and that brought them here. Now she crouched in a closet upstairs, clutching her sons and sending up supplications to any deity that would hear them while Koyama’s mind worked desperately to think of a way, any way, to get the yakuza to give them a little more time.
Kato is growing impatient. He loathes this part of his job, and the fact that he can’t stop thinking about how attractive Koyama is in spite of the ugly fear that twists his features is only making this harder. Just as he opens his mouth to request that Massu fetch their whore, Massu says blandly: “I’ll take on the debt if you’ll let me work on your yard.”
There is a moment of stunned silence. Then Koyama shouts: “absolutely, yes!” before Massu can change his mind.
Kato is still dumbfounded and only regains the ability to speak as he’s walking out the door with a check from Massu to be cashed at the nearest branch of the bank he uses. “What will your uncle say?”
“He’ll probably laugh and say I’m strong enough to do as I please,” is Massu’s calm response, and Kato can’t deny that his presumption is a reasonable one. “As long as the money is good, it doesn’t matter where it comes from, does it?”
Massu has never been an extravagant spender. He’d buy his mother the world if she asked for it, but she doesn’t, because she’s frugal-minded and manages their household as such. Though Massu loves shopping, he prefers clothes that are ‘unique’ to those made by brand-name designers, and seldom purchases things that are exorbitantly priced by virtue of their maker. And he certainly doesn’t have a significant other to buy things for.
(The only serious relationship that Massu has ever had was with another yakuza in his organization. Their romance developed after the two of them engaged in avaguely homoerotic bonding exercise at one of their organization’s onsen retreats, which soured what could have long-lasting amorous affair. Massu always faintly wondered if Shoon wasn’t just sticking around because he felt obligated, and he was sure that Shoon worried about whether or not Massu would ever try to pull rank and force him to do something he wasn’t comfortable with. It had been nice though: Shoon called him “darling,”he called Shoon “honey” in return, and aside from the niggling details related to their status the affair had been idyllic. They ended it when Shoon decided to go back to the straight and narrow path of life, and Massu missed him faintly, occasionally, like their relationship had been over for fifty years instead of five.)
Nor is he particularly impulsive. But the wild land called to Massu, and he couldn’t bring himself to ignore it.
Anyways, paying Koyama’s debt causes him no hardship. Conversely, it brings him the most joy that he’s ever had. He toils away on the grounds any time he has the opportunity to, gradually transforming it into a verdant work of living beauty.
Conscientious of the common folk, Massu is vigilant in keeping his tattoos concealed, wearing long sleeves even in the hottest weather. It’s uncomfortable, and has the undesired effect of calling attention to him from worried restaurant patrons, but Massu is patient with them, repeatedly explaining that he prefers to keep his upper body covered until everyone eventually accepts it as “one of the gardener’s cute quirks.”
The set-up of the house/restaurant turned Massu’s passionate endeavors in the yard into a spectator sport from the start. People peep at him through the window as they eat, entertained by the tireless way he tackles a seemingly endless list of projects. At first Koyama attempted to stop them, however not being the slightest bit of an authoritarian, his gesture was completely in vain, and he soon gave up andjust let them watch, even joining them in giving him a glance now and then. It doesn’t bother Massu, as he’s usually too wrapped up in whatever he’s doing to spare a second of care for anything other than the plant life before him. Upon occasion he’ll glance up, meet someone’s eyes, and wave merrily, to their delight.
One evening, Koyama calls him into the restaurant. The invitation surprises Massu greatly. Though Koyama has always been grateful and accommodating to the utmost, allowing Massu unrestricted access to his land and providing him with cool drinks throughout the day unasked, Massu hasn’t stepped foot into his home since the day he came to collect Koyama’s debt. Waiting for Massu is a bowl of piping hot ramen.
The following evening, Koyama invites him in again. It quickly becomes the norm for Massu to take his dinner with Koyama and the other customers. He gets along well with everyone, and nobody questions his identity because they have no reason to believe that he isn’t a friendly gardener with odd fashion sense and a big, bright smile.
Two incidents marred the otherwise idyllic experience, but Massu prefers not to think about them.
The first occurred when several young punks from a different yakuza organization had the misguided notion to try and cause trouble in Koyama’s restaurant. They sauntered in just as Massu was tucking into his first bowl of ramen, demanding immediate service. Koyama catered to their needs like he would any other customers, trying to mask his nervousness unsuccessfully. Massu observed, expressionless, as the juvenile gangsters grew more and more disruptive, causing the other diners in droves, telling Koyama that they didn’t blame him but that they none-the-less preferred to take their meals in peace, which they obviously weren’t going to get here.
When there were no other witnesses, Massu acted. He got to his feet and rolled up his sleeves a little, making sure that the vines that grew down his arms to his thumb-tips were clearly visible. The other yakuza, who had their backs to him, continued with their antics obliviously. So he cleared his throat repeatedly until they turned to look at him.
“Good evening,” he said with one of his trademark grins, waving slowly with both hands outstretched.
“The fuck-” the one wearing a dozen rings began to bluster before shutting himself up abruptly.
“Green Thumb,” the one wearing a checkered vest that Massu thought would look good on him squeaked impotently.
The others said nothing at all, and as a single unit they stood up to leave, not wanting to provoke Green Thumb’s infamous wrath.
“Your bill,” Massu reminded them gently.
Wordlessly, they piled all the money they had on them onto the counter.
“I’ll walk you out.” He didn’t trust them not to trod on the newly seeded grass.
Koyama thanked him profusely when Massu returned from escorting them off the premises. However, he was subdued and clearly a bit scared, and refused to meet Massu’s eyes until were completely covered, at which point his bubbly demeanor returned. For obvious reasons, Koyama preferred not to be reminded who Massu really was. And Massu liked taking a break from that identity as well; he preferred to be looked at as a gardener, as a friend, rather than as a thug.
The second incident was not anyone’s fault, unless Massu chooses to blame the windows. But it does involve the yakuza.
When Massu first began working on Koyama’s lawn, Kato was inordinately interested in it. Subtlety not being Kato’s strongest suit, Massu quickly caught on that he didn’t actually want to see how the hedges were coming along, but that he wanted a (pleasant) reason to go see the ramen shop owner again. Once Massu and Koyama became friends, Massu took on the role of a sly wingman.
“I don’t even understand why I like him,” Kato confessed after failing once again to get Koyama to talk to him. “Or why he won’t speak to me, for that matter. He talks to you enough!”
Massu shrugged. Matters of the heart have always escaped his comprehension. “Maybe you could try working in his garden too?”
It turns out that Massu’s idea was a good one, but only because Kato isn’t handy at all. He got a splinter two seconds into trying to help Massu put up a new fence, and ran into the restaurant yelling about blood poisoning and amputation until Koyama grabbed his non-injured hand and held him still long enough to remove the tiny chip of wood. After that, Koyama stopped being intimidated by Kato and began to shyly respond to his advances.
Kato frequently came to Koyama’s place to get ramen and talk and flirt. Koyama wasn’t at all shy about sharing what transpired between them with Massu and would have happily imparted every detail, sweet, sordid, or otherwise, if Massu hadn’t stopped him. There were some things that he really didn’t need to know.
On the far side of Koyama’s property, shielded from view by a grove of privacy trees, was an old sauna. Though it was old and hadn’t been used for years, it worked perfectly when Massu tested it out, except that the benches inside had collapsed.
Massu thought that it’d be polite to ask Koyama before he started building benches, even though he knew that Koyama would let him do anything he wanted whether he asked or not. As he headed back towards the house, he noticed that there seemed to be less activity in the restaurant than usual; in fact, it seemed deserted, and Massu began to wonder why.
He got his answer as soon as the house, with its plethora of windows, came into view. Kato and Koyama were kissing in the kitchen. He continued staring, completely shocked, until Koyama dropped to his knees, at which point he gasped, shook his head vigorously, and stumbled back in the direction of the sauna.
Massu decided to make the executive decision to start building some new benches. Koyama could be consulted retroactively.
After that, Massu accidentally caught Koyama and Kato together a couple more times (he counted each subsequent time as an extension of the first incident). The sheer number of windows combined with the fact that the couple wasn’t bashful at all about displaying physical affection meant that it couldn’t be helped. For someone as shy as Massu, it was torturous. He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Koyama or Kato to be more careful, since that would involve admitting that he’d seen them.
Massu gardens because he wants to help plants be their most beautiful selves. But he can’t deny that the happiness he feels when someone compliments him on his handiwork; it’s equal to the pleasure he gets seeing a flower in full bloom, if not stronger.
Now if only Koyama and Kato would quit fraternizing in full view. Then everything would be perfect.