HAPPY belated B-DAY CELESTE
CELESTE I AM SORRY I MISSED YOUR BIRTHDAY. I-I fail and work kind of ate me, but I still have belated presents for you carried over from previous bribery and I will finish the rest of it when I start my vacation, I swear... T__T
Title: Dealer’s Table (1/2)
Series: Gokusen/My Boss My Hero
Wordcount: 1,400~
Summary: The Ooeda Clan and the Kanto Sharp Fang seek an alliance forged by their future leaders. Unfortunately, Makio and Kumiko have problems that extend beyond getting along.
Dedication: To peroxidepest17 for the pimping and the generally being awesome. Happy belated birthday again!
“It’s a task only you can do,” Kuroi Teruyuki, advisor of the Kanto Sharp Fang, announced in measured tones, the way one would address a dangerous yakuza head or a riled up and cranky high schooler. Both of which Sakaki Makio claimed as his identity at different times of the day. Kuroi figured he was hedging his bets.
The 27 year-old heir to the clan had ditched his St. Agnes uniform of the supposed 17 year-old “Makky” for the attitude and attire befitting the infamous Tornado yakuza strongman. Although Makio didn’t actually know what Tornado meant in English, so the appropriateness of dressing in full black with a coat that billowed out dramatically at the slightest gesture was lost on him. He just thought it looked badass.
“Boss took me off duties. You heard what he said. If I get involved in these turf wars it could come back on my schooling.” Makio cracked his knuckles before continuing his stalking of the headquarters. Even if he wasn’t doing any operations, he still liked to make sure his presence was known in the Sharp Fang base. And it was about time for Kazu to finish making his afternoon pudding snack. “Why’s Mikio not getting in on this if it’s so important?”
Kuroi followed behind him, taking care not to get in Makio’s way when the young master turned in his pacing and his dramatic flourishes. “This is a delicate matter, Waka.”
At the word “delicate,” Makio made a face. Possibly because he had not heard it used in such a long time, and never regarding him. “Hanya?”
“He is not asking you to put down an insurgence. This won’t be about muscle. Boss wants you to form an alliance. ...With the Ooeda Clan.”
“Eh?” Makio knew the name. It was an older group, well established in the hierarchy of the yakuza. The Kantou Sharp Fang may have their choice of allies in terms of expansion, but none as solid in their network as Ooeda.
Kuroi tried to continue, worried that Makio’s pause of deliberation could mean losing him in the conversation. “You see, the Ooeda Clan heir is the granddaughter of the Third Head...”
“Eh?”
“-and single.”
“…eh?”
“And that’s why we need you, as the son of the Boss and the potential successor, to meet with her. As equals. Dealings on level ground to prove how we respect them...and whatever potential future we might have together.” He coughed. “You’re the only one who can do this.”
Makio scratched his head uncomprehendingly. “Mikio is Boss’s son too. What you’re saying doesn’t sound like a deal, it’s like a date! This talking nice thing is more his thing. He’d probably bring her flowers and shit.”
“But it is a girl.”
“Yeah you told me!” Makio snapped, “What of it? Girls like flowers.”
“Yes, that’s true, but Mikio is...” Kuroi tried to find the appropriate words to describe the younger Sakaki who wore purple golf shirts to meetings, brought back a signed Barbara Streisand collection from Florida, giggled softly at the crude jokes told in their meetings, and was the complete antithesis of his macho brother, Makio. Where Makio had physical strength, Mikio had infirmities. But where Mikio had cunning, Makio had...absolutely no idea as to what Kuroi was getting at. “...nevermind, Waka. The point is that you need to fight for your position as boss! Mikio already brought the faction gangs in line with us and now people are saying he could be the Third Head. Don’t you think an alliance with Ooeda that you forged would help your cause the same way?”
Makio did not know many things, but he knew when to seize an opportunity for his lifelong dream. Especially when it was repeated to him in simple words. “Alright! I’ll do it! That Ooeda clan won’t know what hit them!” The statement was punctuated with a gloved fist pumped up in the air.
“Just no actual hitting.”
“Che. If she’s real yakuza she could take it but fine.” Makio sighed and thought at least this couldn’t possibly be as bad facing ol’ glasses wearing, teacher from hell, Iron Face in a parent-teacher meeting.
“This is worse than the parent-teacher meetings,” Yamaguchi Kumiko whined softly to herself in front of the mirror. She pulled her hair back into a half-bun, trying to see if it would make her look more sophisticated, more badass. The image that stared back at her was Yamaguchi Kumiko whose hair had obviously been crinkled from being wrapped up in pigtails all day. She stuck her tongue out at the reflection.
Dealing with a bunch of unruly students sounded like the easiest thing in the world compared to maintaining the Ooeda clan’s alliances. After all, Kumiko was a teacher trained to assess where the kids were screwing up in their futures, but not her own. A future that was still very open and in front of her, she might add. After all, Kumiko was only twenty-three! A whole life ahead of her and plenty of time to figure things out, with the vigor and earnestness to juggle two major careers like a professional might throw around flaming pins or chainsaws.
It was hard because the things she loved were in conflict. She loved the Ooeda family. She loved her grandfather, who took her in when her parents died and raised her within the yakuza’s protection. But she also loved her father’s dream to have a normal job where she could inspire and teach people...even if right now the kids she taught were more likely to sleep through the lessons than learn from them. Still, Kumiko was making progress. They had given her a nickname, it was practically absorbing her into their culture now!
“Ah, but Yankumi isn’t the title I should be worried about right now,” Kumiko chided herself. At the prospect of her dilemma, Kumiko’s face set into a frown and suddenly she didn’t appear to be the dorky math teacher at Shirokin High anymore. She stared at the image, trying to memorize how it felt in the muscles of her jaw and cheeks so she could recall it at any time. She would make her face like steel, impassive and unable to detect the smallest of emotion...
“Ojou! Ojou we-”
Tetsu and Minoru, her close retainers and unofficial “little brothers” came bounding up behind her only to scramble and fall on their feet when she turned to face them.
“Wah, Ojou is being scary,” Minoru, the larger and supposedly more imposing yakuza whimpered.
“What is it? You know you’re not supposed to come for me until I’m ready!” Kumiko said, slipping back to petulancy. “Not unless it’s really important.” And then back to hardened yakuza glaring.
“It is!” Tetsu gulped, trying to look as earnest as possible.
There was a pause as Kumiko regarded them. “Well?”
Minoru scrambled on his knees, presenting her a small laquered box. He held it out to her with both hands, bowing his head in reverence. “Here Ojou!”
“We thought you would be worried about your identity from the Kanto Sharp Fang, since there’s rumors about their gang checking out high schools. So we brought you a disguise!”
Kumiko, whose previous idea of a disguise was a blonde wig and the wardrobe from Flashdance, still had enough sense to take the box with a sense of mild trepidation. She flipped the bronze latches and peered inside.
Both Minoru and Tetsu carefully crept forward, eager to see the look of admiration for their cleverness. Yet their beloved leader gave no sign that she was paying attention. In fact, no expression flickered across her face for a good thirty seconds as she tilted the box, first one way then the other.
“...this is kabuki actor makeup.”
“Uh-huh!” Minoru chimed in. “We lifted it off this guy who frequents our takoyaki stand! Didn’t even hafta rough him up, he gave it to us as long as we promised not to tell his manager he was slumming fast food!”
Kumiko’s eyebrow twitched. “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO USE THIS TO MEET THE KANTO BOSS?”
“Uwah, scary.”
“You...can only put on a little?” Tetsu offered meekly.
The other members of the Ooeda clan didn’t remember much from the later scuffle. All they could say is it was as if a kabuki-faced demon had descended upon their lair and sent the two younger yakuza cowering in terror. Of course, Yankumi would deny going near any powder puffs, but they figured that would be a woman's perogative.
All they knew is this potential boss of the Kanto Sharp Fang had more than enough on his plate dealing with their Ojou, alliance or not.
Title: Dealer’s Table (1/2)
Series: Gokusen/My Boss My Hero
Wordcount: 1,400~
Summary: The Ooeda Clan and the Kanto Sharp Fang seek an alliance forged by their future leaders. Unfortunately, Makio and Kumiko have problems that extend beyond getting along.
Dedication: To peroxidepest17 for the pimping and the generally being awesome. Happy belated birthday again!
“It’s a task only you can do,” Kuroi Teruyuki, advisor of the Kanto Sharp Fang, announced in measured tones, the way one would address a dangerous yakuza head or a riled up and cranky high schooler. Both of which Sakaki Makio claimed as his identity at different times of the day. Kuroi figured he was hedging his bets.
The 27 year-old heir to the clan had ditched his St. Agnes uniform of the supposed 17 year-old “Makky” for the attitude and attire befitting the infamous Tornado yakuza strongman. Although Makio didn’t actually know what Tornado meant in English, so the appropriateness of dressing in full black with a coat that billowed out dramatically at the slightest gesture was lost on him. He just thought it looked badass.
“Boss took me off duties. You heard what he said. If I get involved in these turf wars it could come back on my schooling.” Makio cracked his knuckles before continuing his stalking of the headquarters. Even if he wasn’t doing any operations, he still liked to make sure his presence was known in the Sharp Fang base. And it was about time for Kazu to finish making his afternoon pudding snack. “Why’s Mikio not getting in on this if it’s so important?”
Kuroi followed behind him, taking care not to get in Makio’s way when the young master turned in his pacing and his dramatic flourishes. “This is a delicate matter, Waka.”
At the word “delicate,” Makio made a face. Possibly because he had not heard it used in such a long time, and never regarding him. “Hanya?”
“He is not asking you to put down an insurgence. This won’t be about muscle. Boss wants you to form an alliance. ...With the Ooeda Clan.”
“Eh?” Makio knew the name. It was an older group, well established in the hierarchy of the yakuza. The Kantou Sharp Fang may have their choice of allies in terms of expansion, but none as solid in their network as Ooeda.
Kuroi tried to continue, worried that Makio’s pause of deliberation could mean losing him in the conversation. “You see, the Ooeda Clan heir is the granddaughter of the Third Head...”
“Eh?”
“-and single.”
“…eh?”
“And that’s why we need you, as the son of the Boss and the potential successor, to meet with her. As equals. Dealings on level ground to prove how we respect them...and whatever potential future we might have together.” He coughed. “You’re the only one who can do this.”
Makio scratched his head uncomprehendingly. “Mikio is Boss’s son too. What you’re saying doesn’t sound like a deal, it’s like a date! This talking nice thing is more his thing. He’d probably bring her flowers and shit.”
“But it is a girl.”
“Yeah you told me!” Makio snapped, “What of it? Girls like flowers.”
“Yes, that’s true, but Mikio is...” Kuroi tried to find the appropriate words to describe the younger Sakaki who wore purple golf shirts to meetings, brought back a signed Barbara Streisand collection from Florida, giggled softly at the crude jokes told in their meetings, and was the complete antithesis of his macho brother, Makio. Where Makio had physical strength, Mikio had infirmities. But where Mikio had cunning, Makio had...absolutely no idea as to what Kuroi was getting at. “...nevermind, Waka. The point is that you need to fight for your position as boss! Mikio already brought the faction gangs in line with us and now people are saying he could be the Third Head. Don’t you think an alliance with Ooeda that you forged would help your cause the same way?”
Makio did not know many things, but he knew when to seize an opportunity for his lifelong dream. Especially when it was repeated to him in simple words. “Alright! I’ll do it! That Ooeda clan won’t know what hit them!” The statement was punctuated with a gloved fist pumped up in the air.
“Just no actual hitting.”
“Che. If she’s real yakuza she could take it but fine.” Makio sighed and thought at least this couldn’t possibly be as bad facing ol’ glasses wearing, teacher from hell, Iron Face in a parent-teacher meeting.
“This is worse than the parent-teacher meetings,” Yamaguchi Kumiko whined softly to herself in front of the mirror. She pulled her hair back into a half-bun, trying to see if it would make her look more sophisticated, more badass. The image that stared back at her was Yamaguchi Kumiko whose hair had obviously been crinkled from being wrapped up in pigtails all day. She stuck her tongue out at the reflection.
Dealing with a bunch of unruly students sounded like the easiest thing in the world compared to maintaining the Ooeda clan’s alliances. After all, Kumiko was a teacher trained to assess where the kids were screwing up in their futures, but not her own. A future that was still very open and in front of her, she might add. After all, Kumiko was only twenty-three! A whole life ahead of her and plenty of time to figure things out, with the vigor and earnestness to juggle two major careers like a professional might throw around flaming pins or chainsaws.
It was hard because the things she loved were in conflict. She loved the Ooeda family. She loved her grandfather, who took her in when her parents died and raised her within the yakuza’s protection. But she also loved her father’s dream to have a normal job where she could inspire and teach people...even if right now the kids she taught were more likely to sleep through the lessons than learn from them. Still, Kumiko was making progress. They had given her a nickname, it was practically absorbing her into their culture now!
“Ah, but Yankumi isn’t the title I should be worried about right now,” Kumiko chided herself. At the prospect of her dilemma, Kumiko’s face set into a frown and suddenly she didn’t appear to be the dorky math teacher at Shirokin High anymore. She stared at the image, trying to memorize how it felt in the muscles of her jaw and cheeks so she could recall it at any time. She would make her face like steel, impassive and unable to detect the smallest of emotion...
“Ojou! Ojou we-”
Tetsu and Minoru, her close retainers and unofficial “little brothers” came bounding up behind her only to scramble and fall on their feet when she turned to face them.
“Wah, Ojou is being scary,” Minoru, the larger and supposedly more imposing yakuza whimpered.
“What is it? You know you’re not supposed to come for me until I’m ready!” Kumiko said, slipping back to petulancy. “Not unless it’s really important.” And then back to hardened yakuza glaring.
“It is!” Tetsu gulped, trying to look as earnest as possible.
There was a pause as Kumiko regarded them. “Well?”
Minoru scrambled on his knees, presenting her a small laquered box. He held it out to her with both hands, bowing his head in reverence. “Here Ojou!”
“We thought you would be worried about your identity from the Kanto Sharp Fang, since there’s rumors about their gang checking out high schools. So we brought you a disguise!”
Kumiko, whose previous idea of a disguise was a blonde wig and the wardrobe from Flashdance, still had enough sense to take the box with a sense of mild trepidation. She flipped the bronze latches and peered inside.
Both Minoru and Tetsu carefully crept forward, eager to see the look of admiration for their cleverness. Yet their beloved leader gave no sign that she was paying attention. In fact, no expression flickered across her face for a good thirty seconds as she tilted the box, first one way then the other.
“...this is kabuki actor makeup.”
“Uh-huh!” Minoru chimed in. “We lifted it off this guy who frequents our takoyaki stand! Didn’t even hafta rough him up, he gave it to us as long as we promised not to tell his manager he was slumming fast food!”
Kumiko’s eyebrow twitched. “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO USE THIS TO MEET THE KANTO BOSS?”
“Uwah, scary.”
“You...can only put on a little?” Tetsu offered meekly.
The other members of the Ooeda clan didn’t remember much from the later scuffle. All they could say is it was as if a kabuki-faced demon had descended upon their lair and sent the two younger yakuza cowering in terror. Of course, Yankumi would deny going near any powder puffs, but they figured that would be a woman's perogative.
All they knew is this potential boss of the Kanto Sharp Fang had more than enough on his plate dealing with their Ojou, alliance or not.