ES21 Fanfic: Burning Paper Dragons (Habashira/Agon, R) 2/??
Title: Burning Paper Dragons
Author: persepolis130
Beta: none (Please let me know if you see any issues!)
Pairing(s): Habashira/Agon, various minor pairings (m/m and m/f)
Word Count: novel (WIP)
Rating: R
Summary: As a new member of the yakuza Syndicate, Habashira Rui has been assigned the nightmarish job of assistant to Kongo Agon.
Warning: Contains non-graphic (and typically insensitive) depictions of both consensual and coerced sex as well as some not-so-fluffy yakuza-related issues (gambling, prostitution, violence, drugs, blackmail, etc.).
CHAPTER 1
Notes: Pachinko machines look like small, upright pinball machines and are the closest thing to legal gambling in Japan. Pachinko parlors typically have connections to the yakuza.
CHAPTER 2
Agon sat in a fat leather chair, flanked as usual by two young women in short skirts, one of whom held out an ashtray. Standing beside me were three of my boys looking a bit more awed and a lot more nervous than they should've. The nonstop whir and clang of the machines in the pachinko parlor below us did nothing to ease the tension in the room.
"Well?" Agon said. "I've laid it all out for you. Tell me when we can get started on my plan. Or have you forgotten Japanese? Not that that would be a shock."
No use treading water. I was sunk either way. I straightened my tie and dove in. "What you're proposing with this plan," I said, "is forced prostitution. Sexual slavery. It won't fly."
Agon snapped his fingers, and one of the girls poured him another glass of sake. I wanted to wipe that look of superiority off his face with my fist. Or maybe a pachinko machine. Damn, the sound of people throwing away money was annoying! I wondered if I could lift one, and if I could, how far I could throw it. I hoped it would break every tooth in Agon's mouth.
"Don't act so scandalized, Rui-kun," Agon told me, testing the flavor of the liquor. It sure as hell better be good-- that shit cost me an arm and a leg. "It's not like it hasn't been done before. You send out recruits to Korea, China, maybe the Philippines, you tell the girls you've got jobs. Decent pay, chance for promotion, that sort of thing. By the time they get here and realize what they've gotten themselves into--"
"I know how it works!" I cut him off. "It's been going on for a century! You don't have to insult my intelligence by explaining it to me!"
"Intelligence?" he mused. "You have that?"
I did my best to ignore him, gritting my teeth. One of my boys shifted on his feet, and I wondered if he was as angry as I was. It was one thing to insult a man to his face when he couldn't fight back. It was another to do it in front of his subordinates.
"I'm not saying it won't make money," I told him, somehow managing to keep my cool. It was probably because I was imaging Agon's brains spattered against the wall. "I'm saying the Family won't agree to it. We're a chivalrous organization-- our history dates back to the days of the samurai. Even the roughest bunches in the Syndicate don't go in for anything that hardcore."
"If you think your precious Family doesn't employ prostitutes, you're even stupider than you look," he told me.
"Of course I know that!" I snapped. Stop insulting my looks! I know about the whores!
There was this one time, you know? It was right after I passed my apprenticeship, a full year of busting my ass for sixty hours a week and no pay or gratitude, and I decided I deserved it. I was a man now, a full-blown member of the Family, and that's what men do. And if you paid for it, it wasn't cheating.
The moment I saw Megu, I fessed up. In a manly way, of course. I mean, there was no way she wasn't going to find out, and a woman like that didn't take a blow sitting down. If she did, she wouldn't have interested me in the first place. It turned out fine, like I knew it would. She just gave me a hard look and went back to filling out the wedding invitations.
"Anyway," Agon concluded, the look on his face a bit like Megu's had been, "these would be foreign girls. What does anyone care about them?"
I'd have liked to cut the idiot's tongue out and force-feed it to him. "None of us have any interest in tricking innocent girls into whoring themselves. It doesn't matter where they're from. Catering to fetishes and fantasies is fine if it brings in cash, but that's rape. Real rape. There's no honor in that. And if you start involving the international authorities--"
"Aah, get your head out of your ass!" Agon shouted. He looked like he wanted to throw his cup at me. Part of me wished he would. "Don't talk about crap like honor. Do you honestly think that deep down inside, they don't realize? You think these girls are that naïve? That stupid? If they are, they deserve what they get."
What a first-class, motherfucking asshole. He didn't understand what it was like to not have everything you could ever want handed to you on a silver platter, with scantily-clad girls waiting to serve it to you with their fingers. He had no idea what it felt like to not be at the top of the heap, to be played for a fool, cheated, and ground down into the dirt no matter how hard you tried. I really hated idiots like that.
"Look, if you want to ask the boss about it, be my guest. You never listen to a word I say anyway," I snapped. "I'm telling you right now that no one's going to trust you if you bring up bullshit they don't believe in. But if you want everyone to look down on you and think you're a soulless asshole, be my guest!"
Even with the clamor of pachinko in the background, the room went uncomfortably quiet. Agon's girls stared at the floor, and though I couldn't see them, I could feel my boys tensing up. Very calmly, face devoid of expression, Agon drank his sake.
As the seconds ticked by and I cooled off, I realized maybe I'd gone a bit too far. I was better than I used to be, but when I got wound up, the words sometimes came out before I had time to think about the consequences. In my defense, I hadn't technically called him a soulless asshole... but that was a hard argument to make, since I thought he was one.
Agon grabbed the ashtray out of his girl's hands and set it on the arm of his chair. "Alright, everyone out. Except you, Habashira. You stay."
"I knew that already," I told him because I was a master at backtalk, and I guess it had been too long since I'd been beaten to a bloody pulp. I remembered the first time I crossed Agon's path. I came home with a split lip and one eye swollen shut. My mother asked if I needed her to take me to the hospital. Not exactly my finest hour.
Well, at least it wouldn't happen in front of my boys this time. The last of them to leave the room gave me a somber nod and pulled the door shut behind him. I turned to Agon.
"Habashira," he said. "Blow me."
I rolled my eyes. "Not this again."
"Yes, this again," he insisted. "And this time, you're not getting away with being a pussy and begging to make it a handjob."
"Kah! Who's begging?!" I shouted.
Agon set his cup down. "Listen up. I feel like getting blown, and I'm telling you to do it."
"I told you I won't," I repeated.
"I'm telling you you will. And the harder you resist, the more chance someone's going to walk in on you doing it. Now get on your knees, trash," he ordered, spreading his legs, "and blow me."
This wasn't like before. This was punishment, pure and simple. I recognized that. He'd just sent out two girls who'd be overjoyed to service him. He was doing this to make a point. But what point was that? He had power, and I didn't? Why not just punch me? The bastard wasn't even hard.
How was I supposed to suck a guy off when his dick wasn't hard?
"Don't just stare at it," Agon told me, and I realized I was kneeling between his knees with one hand holding his underwear down doing just that.
"Well, what am I supposed to do with it? When I'm about to get head, mine stands up," I told him with general belligerence. The phrase performance issues came to mind, but even I wasn't stupid enough to say it out loud.
"What you have between your legs and whether or not it functions is your problem, not mine," he answered. "Though if you ever need to calm it down, try looking in a mirror. That'd turn anyone off."
"Shut up!" I yelled.
"Get to work!" he yelled back, yanking me down by the hair. My nose smacked against his stomach. "I have shit I need to get done today!"
Asshole! I fucking hate you! I screamed inside my brain. But there was nothing I can do but what he told me to, so I did it.
It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I'd expected worse. I mean, putting my mouth all over another man's equipment wasn't my dream job, but at least the thing wasn't too big. Miniscule when you compare it to mine. Microscopic, really.
The only bad part was the end, when Agon wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and made me swallow. No wonder Megu refused to do it. It tasted disgusting.
My face was red when I came up for air, and I wiped the back of my hand across my lips. Agon watched me with a smirk. He was way too alert for someone who still had his pants down around his hips.
"Have some sake, it'll get the taste out of your mouth," he said.
"I don't drink," I told him yet again. Should I pull his pants up? He was hanging out of them. It was embarrassing. Nobody wanted to be seen like that.
No, that was his problem. I should take pictures and plaster the building with them. Bastard.
"Then have a cigarette," Agon offered. "It'll calm you down."
"I don't smoke!" I snapped.
Agon shrugged and lit up. He took a minute to adjust his clothes, and you'd have thought nothing unusual had happened here. His smoke drifted toward the ceiling, a cloud of acrid grey. Beneath us, the pachinko machines pinged and clattered.
"Habashira," Agon said. "You give head like a virgin."
"Kah! Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!" I shouted, and stormed out.
I was not putting up with this! This was bullshit! He was the one who ordered me to do it, and now he was going to insult me for being bad at it? What the fuck did he expect? Did I look like a woman?! Asshole!
"Aniki, is everything alright?" one of my boys asked as I stomped down the stairs. In a split second of panic, I thought he knew what I'd done, but that was impossible. The commotion downstairs was too loud.
"Fine!" I answered. Yeah, everything was perfectly damn brilliant except how my mouth still tasted like Agon's dick, and I'd just royally screwed over my career. Agon was definitely reporting me to the boss and getting me yanked off this assignment. No amount of apologizing would convince anyone I could handle responsibility after this, and I'd never get the chance to prove myself again. It was over. Even the apprentices would laugh at me behind my back.
Fuck.
Fuck!
"You did what you could, no one will blame you for that," someone was telling me. "He was talking some crazy shit. We all would've done the same as you did, aniki. If he goes against your advice, that's his own--"
"Shut up!" I ordered. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking ab--"
My phone buzzed, and I ripped it out of my pocket. Whoever mailed me at a time like this, I was going to cut off his nuts with a-- It was Agon. I slid the phone open.
You make a persuasive argument. I'll take your advice and explore different investment options.
I stared at the screen. Was this a trick? He was actually doing what I asked? No sex slaves? Or was it some sort of twisted exchange for me on my knees and-- My phone was buzzing again. Another text.
Now pick up my dry cleaning and buy me more cigarettes. And some condoms. The ribbed kind. Don't think you can get away with having one of your flunkies do It.
I slammed my phone into the ground and smashed it into a thousand pieces with the heel of my shoe.
I was going to kill that power-tripping asshole. I swear to god, I was going to kill him!
Right after I bought a new phone. Shit.
*****
I was on my knees again with Agon's dick down my throat. His fingers flexed against my neck, thumb rubbing beneath my ear. His eyes were closed, and a cigarette dangled from his lips.
So strange that I was getting used to this.
Agon called it "consulting." We did it a few times a week. The boys were impressed. I could tell by the way they looked at me afterwards, like I was privy to some sort of trade secret. They had no idea what was really going on, and I didn't plan to explain. Appearance was everything.
Preparation didn't hurt, either. If I was ready for it, I could handle Agon's bullshit without it making me want to break things. I knew what errands he was going to ask for now, and he couldn't order me to run them if I already had. And if Megu wondered why I had a crate full of cigarettes, sake, and bar soap in the living room and why I sometimes dug through it at two in the morning muttering under my breath, she didn't ask. She was a good wife.
"You're getting better at this, Rui-kun," Agon told me, zipping his pants and holding out his sake cup. His face wasn't even flushed. "Maybe you're starting to enjoy it."
I glared at him and swiped the cup. "Don't screw with me, you're the one who enjoys it," I told him, bringing the liquor to my lips. He was right-- it did kill the taste. And a mouthful had gotten me buzzed at first, but I didn't feel it anymore, so there was nothing wrong with it, right?
"What are you doing giving me that back?" he demanded when I reached out to hand him the cup. He flicked the remains of his cigarette into his ash tray. "You just had your mouth all over it, I don't want it."
"You wanted my mouth all over your dick a minute ago!" I protested.
He threw me a look. "Aah? I did? Since when? Aren't you the one who keeps putting it there?"
My fist clenched around the cup. "Because you force me to!"
"Force you? What's this crap?" he asked, digging into his pocket and coming up with a pack of cigarettes. He tapped it for a fresh one. "Have I ever put a gun to your head?"
I slammed the cup down and jumped to my feet. My knees were sore as hell. "Shut up! What man would want to put that disgusting little thing in his mouth? Are you stupid?!"
Agon halted, the tip of his cigarette hovering just out of reach of his lighter. "What did you just say?"
"Listen the first time I say something," I fumed, "and I won't have to repeat every damn thing I--"
"Little? You're honestly calling mine little?" he demanded. "That's so stupid, I can't even get angry over it. What the fuck is wrong with your brain? You can't even get half of it in your mouth!"
"Just because I can't fit it down my throat doesn't make it big!" I shouted, face a fiery red.
"Don't be so damn loud, dumbass! You want someone to hear?" he shouted back.
I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind but realized he was right and shut it again. For all I knew, my boys were right outside the door. After a deep breath, I told him as quietly as I could manage, "I'm no good at sucking you off because I don't like dick."
"I didn't say you weren't good at it," he retorted, finally lighting the cigarette. "I said you were talking shit, and I don't feel like putting up with it. Now I want you kneeling down with your forehead on the floor apologizing before I--"
"I'm not apologizing for telling the truth!" I hissed, vein throbbing in my forehead. "I'm your assistant, not your slave! If you didn't want me to know it was small, you shouldn't have shown it to me in the first place!" And you definitely shouldn't have put it in my mouth! You're the one who should be apologizing to me, asshole!
Agon gave me a dark look, and I wondered how close I was to getting my ass handed to me. Even if it was the truth, talking about another man's dick was probably crossing some sort of line. "Alright, Habashira. If mine is so small, let's see yours," he said.
I gaped. Show him my dick? What kind of screwed-up bastard was he?! Was he some kind of pervert? Did he think I was afraid? Was he calling mine small?!
"Fine!" I snapped, yanking at my belt. "If you need proof, I'll give it to you! But don't take it out on me when you see I'm right!"
I had my fly open and was about to reach into my underwear when I heard Agon laughing. I looked up to find him waving at me to stop. "Rui-kun," he said. "Don't pull strange things out of your pants."
"Aah?!"
"Fuu, you're too easy to manipulate. Zip yourself back up," he told me. "No one wants to see that."
Motherfucking piece of... "But you just told me to--" Wait, why was I protesting? He didn't want to see it, and I didn't want to show it to him.
Actually, part of me did. I was right, and shoving his nose in that fact would've boosted my morale for the rest of the week. To top it off, showing him would've proven I was born with something the genius Kongo Agon wasn't. You couldn't level up your penis size through hard work. No matter how many women he pleased or how many times he made his "trash" assistant go down on him, he would never have what I had.
The thought of being better than Agon made me hard. Well, I was hard before-- nothing turns a real man on like adversity-- but this made me realize it.
Kah, I should've just shown it to him! Maybe it would've shut him up for half a minute. Bastard.
Just as I finished adjusting my clothes with a certain remorse for my lost opportunity, a thick packet of paper came flying at my chest. I put my hands up by instinct, and it bounced off them and onto the ground.
"Well, I guess if you could catch, you'd've been a receiver," Agon said, re-buttoning his suit coat. It was a deep blue and tailored perfectly to his body, and if I sold my car, I couldn't afford half of it. I was guessing the envelope had been inside. "Take that to the address on the label, and deliver it to the owner. Don't open it unless you want to die."
The address was for the Pro Training Fitness Gym in Nihonbashi. I wasn't deluded enough to think Agon worked out, so it must've been a business contact. Oddly, there was a canceled postmark on the envelope.
"Wasn't it already delivered there?" I asked, motioning toward the mark.
"We're finished. Get out," Agon told me. "And send my girls back in. The one with the short hair fucks like a dream. Remember not to open that."
You're welcome, asshole.
Finding the gym wasn't hard, but finding parking was a bitch. At times like this, I wished it weren't inappropriate for a grown man to ride a souped-up motorbike. I could've parked it on the sidewalk.
The gym was larger than I expected and well-maintained. A middle-aged man with a potbelly panted on a stationary bicycle, and two twenty-something women jogged side-by-side on treadmills, their breasts bouncing in unison. A young woman in athletic pants and an official-looking tee-shirt greeted me at the door.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked with a smile. If she thought anything of my clothing and general demeanor, she didn't show it.
"I need to speak with the owner," I told her, tugging at the cuff of one of my too-short sleeves as I narrowed my eyes. Young people could be hard to intimidate these days.
"Of course. Please wait here, and I'll bring him out," she told me, not looking phased by the request. She disappeared down a hallway labeled "OFFICE."
I wondered if I was losing my touch. Should I have flashed my tattoo? That usually worked, though it seemed a little heavy-handed. Well, if she was working someplace with ties to Agon, maybe she was used to my type coming in here. Anyway, if the owner didn't seem sufficiently impressed, I'd--
"Habashira-san! It's been a while!" a voice said.
I pulled myself out of my plotting and was met with the open smile and shaved head of Kongo Unsui. I blinked. "Why did that asshole send me on an errand to his own brother?"
He shrugged, looking apologetic. "It's normal. Would you like to come back to the office? We can talk there."
It turned out Unsui had owned the gym for years, and Agon sent him regular packages. Unsui had never bothered to ask why he sent them or what the packages were. "I'm sure there's nothing legal about them, so I'd rather not know. Someone always comes to pick things up within a day or two, so I haven't made an issue of it," he told me after seating me at his desk and offering tea, which I refused. He'd tucked the package into a cabinet behind him. "So are you working with Agon now? He doesn't talk much about business..."
"I'm sure as hell not running his errands out of the goodness of my heart," I told him. "You think I want to be here?"
Unsui laughed. "Of course not. I apologize for asking such a silly question. Thank you for putting up with my brother's bad manners. You're really too kind."
Well, I couldn't argue with that. "So do you actually own this place?" I asked. "Or are you fronting for Agon?"
"That's a very... well-phrased question," he told me, and I got the impression I'd made him uncomfortable. It was a good thing I didn't care. "He secured the loan, but when I pay it off, the gym and everything in it will be mine. As far as I can tell, it's all legal."
"Don't count on it," I told him, annoyed for reasons I couldn’t name. I'd been surprised back in the day when I'd heard Unsui had signed a contract to play for the NFL Japan, but I was wasn't surprised when the contract ended without him ever setting foot on the field. Once you fell under the shadow of someone like Agon, you had to claw tooth and nail to ever see the light again, and Unsui had been there longer than anyone else. By the time he started trying, he was like a plant grown in the dark-- sickly pale with stunted leaves. Someone like Unsui could never measure up to a man like me.
So how did I explain this place? It wasn't my style, but it was his, and it was bound to be a success. If fitness gyms were a new kind of blackjack, Unsui would've been the man I'd have chosen to draw the customers in. Ready smile, body strong but not so muscled that it would turn people off... and after putting up with a bastard younger brother like Agon for his whole life, his patience must've been godlike. Yeah, owning a gym was the perfect job for him. And I bet he never had to get down on his knees and suck some asshole off to keep it.
That was it. That was what was pissing me off.
Unsui, the man who gave up without a fight, was more successful than I was. He had his own business that was entirely blowjob-free, and what did I have? A half dozen lackeys and cheap suits, and half my paycheck being eaten up by Agon's bad habits. Had that bastard sent me here to shove it in my face? Was he trying to imply I wasn't trying hard enough? That even his scraggly-limbed, yellow-leaved brother was doing better than I was?
He was looking down on me, wasn't he? And so was Unsui. I knew he was! Even if he acted friendly, it was obvious he thought I was a loser and a dropout.
Damn it!
"Habashira-san, is everything alright?" Unsui was asking, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I'd stood up and was clenching my fists in anger.
I didn't bother answering him. I stormed out, mad as hell, determined to come up with a plan to win back my honor. I'd prove that asshole Agon wrong or die trying!
NEXT CHAPTER
Author: persepolis130
Beta: none (Please let me know if you see any issues!)
Pairing(s): Habashira/Agon, various minor pairings (m/m and m/f)
Word Count: novel (WIP)
Rating: R
Summary: As a new member of the yakuza Syndicate, Habashira Rui has been assigned the nightmarish job of assistant to Kongo Agon.
Warning: Contains non-graphic (and typically insensitive) depictions of both consensual and coerced sex as well as some not-so-fluffy yakuza-related issues (gambling, prostitution, violence, drugs, blackmail, etc.).
CHAPTER 1
Notes: Pachinko machines look like small, upright pinball machines and are the closest thing to legal gambling in Japan. Pachinko parlors typically have connections to the yakuza.
CHAPTER 2
Agon sat in a fat leather chair, flanked as usual by two young women in short skirts, one of whom held out an ashtray. Standing beside me were three of my boys looking a bit more awed and a lot more nervous than they should've. The nonstop whir and clang of the machines in the pachinko parlor below us did nothing to ease the tension in the room.
"Well?" Agon said. "I've laid it all out for you. Tell me when we can get started on my plan. Or have you forgotten Japanese? Not that that would be a shock."
No use treading water. I was sunk either way. I straightened my tie and dove in. "What you're proposing with this plan," I said, "is forced prostitution. Sexual slavery. It won't fly."
Agon snapped his fingers, and one of the girls poured him another glass of sake. I wanted to wipe that look of superiority off his face with my fist. Or maybe a pachinko machine. Damn, the sound of people throwing away money was annoying! I wondered if I could lift one, and if I could, how far I could throw it. I hoped it would break every tooth in Agon's mouth.
"Don't act so scandalized, Rui-kun," Agon told me, testing the flavor of the liquor. It sure as hell better be good-- that shit cost me an arm and a leg. "It's not like it hasn't been done before. You send out recruits to Korea, China, maybe the Philippines, you tell the girls you've got jobs. Decent pay, chance for promotion, that sort of thing. By the time they get here and realize what they've gotten themselves into--"
"I know how it works!" I cut him off. "It's been going on for a century! You don't have to insult my intelligence by explaining it to me!"
"Intelligence?" he mused. "You have that?"
I did my best to ignore him, gritting my teeth. One of my boys shifted on his feet, and I wondered if he was as angry as I was. It was one thing to insult a man to his face when he couldn't fight back. It was another to do it in front of his subordinates.
"I'm not saying it won't make money," I told him, somehow managing to keep my cool. It was probably because I was imaging Agon's brains spattered against the wall. "I'm saying the Family won't agree to it. We're a chivalrous organization-- our history dates back to the days of the samurai. Even the roughest bunches in the Syndicate don't go in for anything that hardcore."
"If you think your precious Family doesn't employ prostitutes, you're even stupider than you look," he told me.
"Of course I know that!" I snapped. Stop insulting my looks! I know about the whores!
There was this one time, you know? It was right after I passed my apprenticeship, a full year of busting my ass for sixty hours a week and no pay or gratitude, and I decided I deserved it. I was a man now, a full-blown member of the Family, and that's what men do. And if you paid for it, it wasn't cheating.
The moment I saw Megu, I fessed up. In a manly way, of course. I mean, there was no way she wasn't going to find out, and a woman like that didn't take a blow sitting down. If she did, she wouldn't have interested me in the first place. It turned out fine, like I knew it would. She just gave me a hard look and went back to filling out the wedding invitations.
"Anyway," Agon concluded, the look on his face a bit like Megu's had been, "these would be foreign girls. What does anyone care about them?"
I'd have liked to cut the idiot's tongue out and force-feed it to him. "None of us have any interest in tricking innocent girls into whoring themselves. It doesn't matter where they're from. Catering to fetishes and fantasies is fine if it brings in cash, but that's rape. Real rape. There's no honor in that. And if you start involving the international authorities--"
"Aah, get your head out of your ass!" Agon shouted. He looked like he wanted to throw his cup at me. Part of me wished he would. "Don't talk about crap like honor. Do you honestly think that deep down inside, they don't realize? You think these girls are that naïve? That stupid? If they are, they deserve what they get."
What a first-class, motherfucking asshole. He didn't understand what it was like to not have everything you could ever want handed to you on a silver platter, with scantily-clad girls waiting to serve it to you with their fingers. He had no idea what it felt like to not be at the top of the heap, to be played for a fool, cheated, and ground down into the dirt no matter how hard you tried. I really hated idiots like that.
"Look, if you want to ask the boss about it, be my guest. You never listen to a word I say anyway," I snapped. "I'm telling you right now that no one's going to trust you if you bring up bullshit they don't believe in. But if you want everyone to look down on you and think you're a soulless asshole, be my guest!"
Even with the clamor of pachinko in the background, the room went uncomfortably quiet. Agon's girls stared at the floor, and though I couldn't see them, I could feel my boys tensing up. Very calmly, face devoid of expression, Agon drank his sake.
As the seconds ticked by and I cooled off, I realized maybe I'd gone a bit too far. I was better than I used to be, but when I got wound up, the words sometimes came out before I had time to think about the consequences. In my defense, I hadn't technically called him a soulless asshole... but that was a hard argument to make, since I thought he was one.
Agon grabbed the ashtray out of his girl's hands and set it on the arm of his chair. "Alright, everyone out. Except you, Habashira. You stay."
"I knew that already," I told him because I was a master at backtalk, and I guess it had been too long since I'd been beaten to a bloody pulp. I remembered the first time I crossed Agon's path. I came home with a split lip and one eye swollen shut. My mother asked if I needed her to take me to the hospital. Not exactly my finest hour.
Well, at least it wouldn't happen in front of my boys this time. The last of them to leave the room gave me a somber nod and pulled the door shut behind him. I turned to Agon.
"Habashira," he said. "Blow me."
I rolled my eyes. "Not this again."
"Yes, this again," he insisted. "And this time, you're not getting away with being a pussy and begging to make it a handjob."
"Kah! Who's begging?!" I shouted.
Agon set his cup down. "Listen up. I feel like getting blown, and I'm telling you to do it."
"I told you I won't," I repeated.
"I'm telling you you will. And the harder you resist, the more chance someone's going to walk in on you doing it. Now get on your knees, trash," he ordered, spreading his legs, "and blow me."
This wasn't like before. This was punishment, pure and simple. I recognized that. He'd just sent out two girls who'd be overjoyed to service him. He was doing this to make a point. But what point was that? He had power, and I didn't? Why not just punch me? The bastard wasn't even hard.
How was I supposed to suck a guy off when his dick wasn't hard?
"Don't just stare at it," Agon told me, and I realized I was kneeling between his knees with one hand holding his underwear down doing just that.
"Well, what am I supposed to do with it? When I'm about to get head, mine stands up," I told him with general belligerence. The phrase performance issues came to mind, but even I wasn't stupid enough to say it out loud.
"What you have between your legs and whether or not it functions is your problem, not mine," he answered. "Though if you ever need to calm it down, try looking in a mirror. That'd turn anyone off."
"Shut up!" I yelled.
"Get to work!" he yelled back, yanking me down by the hair. My nose smacked against his stomach. "I have shit I need to get done today!"
Asshole! I fucking hate you! I screamed inside my brain. But there was nothing I can do but what he told me to, so I did it.
It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I'd expected worse. I mean, putting my mouth all over another man's equipment wasn't my dream job, but at least the thing wasn't too big. Miniscule when you compare it to mine. Microscopic, really.
The only bad part was the end, when Agon wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and made me swallow. No wonder Megu refused to do it. It tasted disgusting.
My face was red when I came up for air, and I wiped the back of my hand across my lips. Agon watched me with a smirk. He was way too alert for someone who still had his pants down around his hips.
"Have some sake, it'll get the taste out of your mouth," he said.
"I don't drink," I told him yet again. Should I pull his pants up? He was hanging out of them. It was embarrassing. Nobody wanted to be seen like that.
No, that was his problem. I should take pictures and plaster the building with them. Bastard.
"Then have a cigarette," Agon offered. "It'll calm you down."
"I don't smoke!" I snapped.
Agon shrugged and lit up. He took a minute to adjust his clothes, and you'd have thought nothing unusual had happened here. His smoke drifted toward the ceiling, a cloud of acrid grey. Beneath us, the pachinko machines pinged and clattered.
"Habashira," Agon said. "You give head like a virgin."
"Kah! Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!" I shouted, and stormed out.
I was not putting up with this! This was bullshit! He was the one who ordered me to do it, and now he was going to insult me for being bad at it? What the fuck did he expect? Did I look like a woman?! Asshole!
"Aniki, is everything alright?" one of my boys asked as I stomped down the stairs. In a split second of panic, I thought he knew what I'd done, but that was impossible. The commotion downstairs was too loud.
"Fine!" I answered. Yeah, everything was perfectly damn brilliant except how my mouth still tasted like Agon's dick, and I'd just royally screwed over my career. Agon was definitely reporting me to the boss and getting me yanked off this assignment. No amount of apologizing would convince anyone I could handle responsibility after this, and I'd never get the chance to prove myself again. It was over. Even the apprentices would laugh at me behind my back.
Fuck.
Fuck!
"You did what you could, no one will blame you for that," someone was telling me. "He was talking some crazy shit. We all would've done the same as you did, aniki. If he goes against your advice, that's his own--"
"Shut up!" I ordered. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking ab--"
My phone buzzed, and I ripped it out of my pocket. Whoever mailed me at a time like this, I was going to cut off his nuts with a-- It was Agon. I slid the phone open.
You make a persuasive argument. I'll take your advice and explore different investment options.
I stared at the screen. Was this a trick? He was actually doing what I asked? No sex slaves? Or was it some sort of twisted exchange for me on my knees and-- My phone was buzzing again. Another text.
Now pick up my dry cleaning and buy me more cigarettes. And some condoms. The ribbed kind. Don't think you can get away with having one of your flunkies do It.
I slammed my phone into the ground and smashed it into a thousand pieces with the heel of my shoe.
I was going to kill that power-tripping asshole. I swear to god, I was going to kill him!
Right after I bought a new phone. Shit.
*****
I was on my knees again with Agon's dick down my throat. His fingers flexed against my neck, thumb rubbing beneath my ear. His eyes were closed, and a cigarette dangled from his lips.
So strange that I was getting used to this.
Agon called it "consulting." We did it a few times a week. The boys were impressed. I could tell by the way they looked at me afterwards, like I was privy to some sort of trade secret. They had no idea what was really going on, and I didn't plan to explain. Appearance was everything.
Preparation didn't hurt, either. If I was ready for it, I could handle Agon's bullshit without it making me want to break things. I knew what errands he was going to ask for now, and he couldn't order me to run them if I already had. And if Megu wondered why I had a crate full of cigarettes, sake, and bar soap in the living room and why I sometimes dug through it at two in the morning muttering under my breath, she didn't ask. She was a good wife.
"You're getting better at this, Rui-kun," Agon told me, zipping his pants and holding out his sake cup. His face wasn't even flushed. "Maybe you're starting to enjoy it."
I glared at him and swiped the cup. "Don't screw with me, you're the one who enjoys it," I told him, bringing the liquor to my lips. He was right-- it did kill the taste. And a mouthful had gotten me buzzed at first, but I didn't feel it anymore, so there was nothing wrong with it, right?
"What are you doing giving me that back?" he demanded when I reached out to hand him the cup. He flicked the remains of his cigarette into his ash tray. "You just had your mouth all over it, I don't want it."
"You wanted my mouth all over your dick a minute ago!" I protested.
He threw me a look. "Aah? I did? Since when? Aren't you the one who keeps putting it there?"
My fist clenched around the cup. "Because you force me to!"
"Force you? What's this crap?" he asked, digging into his pocket and coming up with a pack of cigarettes. He tapped it for a fresh one. "Have I ever put a gun to your head?"
I slammed the cup down and jumped to my feet. My knees were sore as hell. "Shut up! What man would want to put that disgusting little thing in his mouth? Are you stupid?!"
Agon halted, the tip of his cigarette hovering just out of reach of his lighter. "What did you just say?"
"Listen the first time I say something," I fumed, "and I won't have to repeat every damn thing I--"
"Little? You're honestly calling mine little?" he demanded. "That's so stupid, I can't even get angry over it. What the fuck is wrong with your brain? You can't even get half of it in your mouth!"
"Just because I can't fit it down my throat doesn't make it big!" I shouted, face a fiery red.
"Don't be so damn loud, dumbass! You want someone to hear?" he shouted back.
I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind but realized he was right and shut it again. For all I knew, my boys were right outside the door. After a deep breath, I told him as quietly as I could manage, "I'm no good at sucking you off because I don't like dick."
"I didn't say you weren't good at it," he retorted, finally lighting the cigarette. "I said you were talking shit, and I don't feel like putting up with it. Now I want you kneeling down with your forehead on the floor apologizing before I--"
"I'm not apologizing for telling the truth!" I hissed, vein throbbing in my forehead. "I'm your assistant, not your slave! If you didn't want me to know it was small, you shouldn't have shown it to me in the first place!" And you definitely shouldn't have put it in my mouth! You're the one who should be apologizing to me, asshole!
Agon gave me a dark look, and I wondered how close I was to getting my ass handed to me. Even if it was the truth, talking about another man's dick was probably crossing some sort of line. "Alright, Habashira. If mine is so small, let's see yours," he said.
I gaped. Show him my dick? What kind of screwed-up bastard was he?! Was he some kind of pervert? Did he think I was afraid? Was he calling mine small?!
"Fine!" I snapped, yanking at my belt. "If you need proof, I'll give it to you! But don't take it out on me when you see I'm right!"
I had my fly open and was about to reach into my underwear when I heard Agon laughing. I looked up to find him waving at me to stop. "Rui-kun," he said. "Don't pull strange things out of your pants."
"Aah?!"
"Fuu, you're too easy to manipulate. Zip yourself back up," he told me. "No one wants to see that."
Motherfucking piece of... "But you just told me to--" Wait, why was I protesting? He didn't want to see it, and I didn't want to show it to him.
Actually, part of me did. I was right, and shoving his nose in that fact would've boosted my morale for the rest of the week. To top it off, showing him would've proven I was born with something the genius Kongo Agon wasn't. You couldn't level up your penis size through hard work. No matter how many women he pleased or how many times he made his "trash" assistant go down on him, he would never have what I had.
The thought of being better than Agon made me hard. Well, I was hard before-- nothing turns a real man on like adversity-- but this made me realize it.
Kah, I should've just shown it to him! Maybe it would've shut him up for half a minute. Bastard.
Just as I finished adjusting my clothes with a certain remorse for my lost opportunity, a thick packet of paper came flying at my chest. I put my hands up by instinct, and it bounced off them and onto the ground.
"Well, I guess if you could catch, you'd've been a receiver," Agon said, re-buttoning his suit coat. It was a deep blue and tailored perfectly to his body, and if I sold my car, I couldn't afford half of it. I was guessing the envelope had been inside. "Take that to the address on the label, and deliver it to the owner. Don't open it unless you want to die."
The address was for the Pro Training Fitness Gym in Nihonbashi. I wasn't deluded enough to think Agon worked out, so it must've been a business contact. Oddly, there was a canceled postmark on the envelope.
"Wasn't it already delivered there?" I asked, motioning toward the mark.
"We're finished. Get out," Agon told me. "And send my girls back in. The one with the short hair fucks like a dream. Remember not to open that."
You're welcome, asshole.
Finding the gym wasn't hard, but finding parking was a bitch. At times like this, I wished it weren't inappropriate for a grown man to ride a souped-up motorbike. I could've parked it on the sidewalk.
The gym was larger than I expected and well-maintained. A middle-aged man with a potbelly panted on a stationary bicycle, and two twenty-something women jogged side-by-side on treadmills, their breasts bouncing in unison. A young woman in athletic pants and an official-looking tee-shirt greeted me at the door.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked with a smile. If she thought anything of my clothing and general demeanor, she didn't show it.
"I need to speak with the owner," I told her, tugging at the cuff of one of my too-short sleeves as I narrowed my eyes. Young people could be hard to intimidate these days.
"Of course. Please wait here, and I'll bring him out," she told me, not looking phased by the request. She disappeared down a hallway labeled "OFFICE."
I wondered if I was losing my touch. Should I have flashed my tattoo? That usually worked, though it seemed a little heavy-handed. Well, if she was working someplace with ties to Agon, maybe she was used to my type coming in here. Anyway, if the owner didn't seem sufficiently impressed, I'd--
"Habashira-san! It's been a while!" a voice said.
I pulled myself out of my plotting and was met with the open smile and shaved head of Kongo Unsui. I blinked. "Why did that asshole send me on an errand to his own brother?"
He shrugged, looking apologetic. "It's normal. Would you like to come back to the office? We can talk there."
It turned out Unsui had owned the gym for years, and Agon sent him regular packages. Unsui had never bothered to ask why he sent them or what the packages were. "I'm sure there's nothing legal about them, so I'd rather not know. Someone always comes to pick things up within a day or two, so I haven't made an issue of it," he told me after seating me at his desk and offering tea, which I refused. He'd tucked the package into a cabinet behind him. "So are you working with Agon now? He doesn't talk much about business..."
"I'm sure as hell not running his errands out of the goodness of my heart," I told him. "You think I want to be here?"
Unsui laughed. "Of course not. I apologize for asking such a silly question. Thank you for putting up with my brother's bad manners. You're really too kind."
Well, I couldn't argue with that. "So do you actually own this place?" I asked. "Or are you fronting for Agon?"
"That's a very... well-phrased question," he told me, and I got the impression I'd made him uncomfortable. It was a good thing I didn't care. "He secured the loan, but when I pay it off, the gym and everything in it will be mine. As far as I can tell, it's all legal."
"Don't count on it," I told him, annoyed for reasons I couldn’t name. I'd been surprised back in the day when I'd heard Unsui had signed a contract to play for the NFL Japan, but I was wasn't surprised when the contract ended without him ever setting foot on the field. Once you fell under the shadow of someone like Agon, you had to claw tooth and nail to ever see the light again, and Unsui had been there longer than anyone else. By the time he started trying, he was like a plant grown in the dark-- sickly pale with stunted leaves. Someone like Unsui could never measure up to a man like me.
So how did I explain this place? It wasn't my style, but it was his, and it was bound to be a success. If fitness gyms were a new kind of blackjack, Unsui would've been the man I'd have chosen to draw the customers in. Ready smile, body strong but not so muscled that it would turn people off... and after putting up with a bastard younger brother like Agon for his whole life, his patience must've been godlike. Yeah, owning a gym was the perfect job for him. And I bet he never had to get down on his knees and suck some asshole off to keep it.
That was it. That was what was pissing me off.
Unsui, the man who gave up without a fight, was more successful than I was. He had his own business that was entirely blowjob-free, and what did I have? A half dozen lackeys and cheap suits, and half my paycheck being eaten up by Agon's bad habits. Had that bastard sent me here to shove it in my face? Was he trying to imply I wasn't trying hard enough? That even his scraggly-limbed, yellow-leaved brother was doing better than I was?
He was looking down on me, wasn't he? And so was Unsui. I knew he was! Even if he acted friendly, it was obvious he thought I was a loser and a dropout.
Damn it!
"Habashira-san, is everything alright?" Unsui was asking, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I'd stood up and was clenching my fists in anger.
I didn't bother answering him. I stormed out, mad as hell, determined to come up with a plan to win back my honor. I'd prove that asshole Agon wrong or die trying!
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