Chapter Text
Suo is losing.
He's sitting on his knees under the kotatsu, his cup of tea half empty next to him on the table, the falling snow muffling all the sounds outside. His lone eye is staring at the board in front of him, filled with black and white stones as he fidget with one of the black ones between his fingers. His brows are pinched in concentration. On the other side of the kotatsu, his master takes a sip from his teacup.
Suo is utterly losing at Go.
As per usual.
He finally sets his stone on the board, nose scrunching. This is not an ideal move, but he's already so far behind, he can't be picky.
His eye stays on the board as he waits for his Master to play. The man's hand hovers above the table, white stone tucked between his index and middle finger. Suo glances at a free spot on the board. If he can put his stone there next, he could extend his territory a little. If he's lucky-
His master's stone fall on the spot with a decisive impact.
"You are loud today, Hayato."
He raises his head to find his master's gaze on him, and let a small sigh past his lips.
"I'm sorry Master. I can't quite concentrate today."
"Your entire body is screaming, boy. What is it ?"
There is no judgment in his master's voice, and yet Suo feels shame creeps up along his spine. He's not a child anymore, he should be able to control his body language better than this by now.
He straightens his back, shifts on his knees a little and carefully crafts his face into a blank canvas.
"We've been asked about our plans for high school." he says, as one would rip a bandage off, words tumbling out of his mouth.
His master's face stay unchanged. He cannot read anything but his own discomfort reflecting in the piercing eyes of the man.
"I see."
This is his sign to continue speaking. Suo wiggles his toes under him, hoping his nervousness will stay unnoticed.
Suo doesn't delude himself. He knows, has known for a while now, that his future isn't his to decide anymore. That he made a promise, and a deal, both he intends to fulfill. He can't be selfish. Selfishness is ugly and immature.
And yet...
He brings his teacup to his lips, drinks in silence, hoping the — now tepid — liquid will prevent his throat to feel like sandpaper.
'I want to attend high school.' is what he wants to say. 'I want to meet new people.' 'I want to be away from here.' 'I'm suffocating.'
He can't say it.
He cradles the cup between his hands, searching for the courage to get some words out.
"Hayato." says his master, seemingly understanding his tongue is betraying him. "I have a suggestion for you."
══════❀══════
"A public school ?"
The words fall with barely concealed disgust. Suo's fingers twitch behind his back. He keeps his eye straight ahead.
"Yes. I know it's unconventional, but I believe-"
"Your beliefs are irrelevant, Hayato."
His mouth closes shut. He's used to the harsh tone of the man sitting at the desk in front of him, but it still takes some effort not to flinch at the words. The air in the room is stuffy, even though the man's office is stripped-down to the bare essential furniture. Suo wishes he could open the window and let the winter's wind in; maybe that would cool down his mind and make it easier to breathe…
"I fail to see how enrolling in a public school, one with such a reputation too, would be of any use to you."
"I-"
"Eyes up, Hayato."
Suo snaps his head back up. He hadn't even noticed he had been staring at the ground in submission. He clenches his teeth.
Focus.
The man lights up a cigarette. Suo watches the flame of the lighter flicker. He braces himself, feet firmly flat on the ground.
"You get all the education you need already," and the voice is not even angry, just disapproving, which makes it much worse to Suo's ears. "It is pointless to trouble yourself with childish distractions and waste your energy on something as ridiculous as public school."
The words hit Suo with vicious accuracy. He knows this is not like him to ask for favors, especially not one as selfish as this, not when he's already so indebted to the Family, and he really should know better than test his luck like this.
Hope is a poison. And lately it's been growing inside his lungs, between his ribs, suffocating him with possibilities that he can almost taste. What if, his mind repeats. What if you could get out of here ?
"How many times do I need to tell you, Hayato. It's the Family's image you're representing. The words you choose, the clothes you choose, the fights you choose. Eventually people will look at you and see the Family. I will not allow you to sully our reputation by attending some wannabe gangster' school and picking up street fights with a bunch of strays. Am I clear ?"
Suo's nails dig into his palm behind his back.
"Yes."
His own voice sounds so wobbly to his ears it makes him cringe. He keeps his eye ahead, sees the scowl on the man's face.
"Yes, sir." he corrects himself.
"Don't be too harsh on the boy, I'm the one who suggested the idea."
Suo had almost forgotten his master is in the room with them until now. After so many years, he is still surprised by how quiet the man manages to be when he moves around. He sees the focus of the other man shift to his master with slight annoyance.
"You are to train him, not put idiotic ideas inside his head."
Suo doesn't dare taking his eye off the man in front of him, but he knows his master well enough to picture the serene smile on his lips. He wishes he could be mature enough not to get riled up by every criticism thrown his way. Maybe then he wouldn't have to beg and gravel for permission to breathe.
His master takes a few steps forward, smoothly reaching Suo's side, and squeezes his shoulder before mimicking the stance of his student, back straight, hands behind him.
"His training is going perfectly well. Both his body and mind show great promises for the future. But if I may, Hayato is fourteen. He needs to see what the world looks like, so he can appreciate the chance given to him, and know where he stands. Makochi's main force is made of high schoolers. The town is yet to be entirely reformed. It would be a great way to show Hayato how the Family's influence is needed for a peaceful environment all while making sure he's not putting himself in danger. I can assure you his current level guarantees him to come up on top of any conflict he could come across."
Pride swells in Suo's chest. His master's praises mean the world to him. It makes it all worth it. All the bruises on his body, the taste of blood in his mouth, the exhaustion deep in his bones, the shame of kneeling on the hard wood of the dojo with tears in his eyes and ragged breath tearing down his throat. 'You're grown Hayato, you can endure it' is what his master says every time. And he's right. He can. He's not a child anymore, so he gets up every time and pushes his body and mind further. He'll honor his master's teachings.
He stays oh so very still as he watches the words of his master make their way through the man sitting at his desk. Dark eyes bore into him, calculating, and he barely dare to breathe until a sigh reaches his ears.
"Leave us, Hayato. I need to speak with your Master."
Suo allows himself to glance to his side, and his master's smile is still on his lips when he gives him an encouraging nod toward the door.
"Wait at the door. It won't be long."
The boy bows quickly and exits the room. The moment he steps into the corridor, his shoulders slump. He sags against the nearest wall and sighs. Every single time he has to meet with the Honbucho[1], he wants to run away. The eyes of that man are a bottomless pit of anger and violence. Out of all the people living in the house right now, his master might be the only one who doesn't seem remotely bothered by their boss' aura. Suo cannot imagine what meeting the Kumicho[2]would be like. He hopes it will never happen. That's probably a futile hope though.
Footsteps resonate in the corridor and three men twice Suo's age come into view. The smell of alcohol clings to them as they approach. The stench of cold cigarette follow.
"Oh, Little Brother !" one of them shouts, voice booming. Suo winces. They're always so loud. "Fancy seeing you here ! Not in school ?"
He smiles politely at his 'siblings', cannot stop the little voice in his head telling him he'd rather drop dead than consider any of these men family.
'Children cannot choose their parents. But us, we can choose our Oyabun[3], our Father. We chose to become his children.' This is one of the first thing he was told, back when the pain of losing his eye was still so fresh he felt like his head was going to split open.
Oh he had chosen. As much as a ten years old boy could choose with his father taken away by the police and his mother with both legs broken and the eyes of a deer caught in headlights.
"No, it is Sunday after all." he replies, cocking his head to the side. He'd call them stupid if these men didn't thrive on violence.
"Heard you broke one of those rich kids' nose again the other day ?"
That… had happened. Suo is currently attending a private middle school not too far from the main house, full with sons and daughters of important people, or so they say. The first ones who had tried to pick on him because of his eye-patch had earned a trip to the nurse's office, swollen eyes and busted lips. Suo had been proud of himself until he had recounted the story to his master.
He still isn't sure what had hurt more between the blows his body had taken or the humiliating lecture about arrogance his master had beaten into his brain.
So nowadays, he never throw the first punch. The boy whose nose he broke a few days ago had it coming. Serve him right for bullying first years students who cannot defend themselves. If he was anyone else Suo would've probably been expelled already, but well, when the Yakuza Clan you're affiliated with is funding the school, things are a little easier. And people keep their mouth shut.
"If you're this eager to join us in taming idiots in the streets, hurry and grow up, kiddo !" one of the men laugh, messing with his hair. Suo swats his hand away, annoyed.
They laugh and take their leave. Suo is left alone with the smell of alcohol and tobacco.
══════❀══════
Suo's heart is pounding so hard he's worried he might throw up. There's a knot in his throat as he carefully weights tea leaves before dumping them in a clay teapot.
His master hasn't said a word since he closed the door of the office behind his back and gestured at him to follow. The older man is now staring at the garden, hands clasp behind his back as Suo waits for the water to boil. He doesn't dare to ask what stemmed from his exchange with the Honbucho.
Suo sets some teacakes on the tray next to him, his hands steady, used to this ritual, while his mind races and thoughts cascade inside his head.
Maybe. Just maybe. He could be allowed to step outside the absolute control of the Family. He could be in contact with people who don't know him yet. Who don't need to know him. Just for a little while, he could get away from this suffocating atmosphere and-
"Hayato."
His master's voice brings him back to the moment. The water is hot. He fills the teapot and takes the tray to the older man, now sitting on his knees next to the coffee table. Suo smooths down the loose fabric of his pants before sitting down, mirroring the stance of his master, a habit he doesn't remember picking up.
"That suggestion I made about high school is not for your personal enjoyment. I believe you're mature enough to understand that, yes ?"
Suo straightens his back.
"Of course Master."
Suo's master's gaze softens. He takes the teapot's lid and brings it to his nose, humming the sweet scent of the tea. Suo watches, hands folded on his thighs, as steam rises from the teapot. His master pours tea for the both of them.
"The path you chose is an arduous one, Hayato. You have worked hard, but what's to come will be harsher. I cannot send you into the world unarmed. You will continue to grow, but to become an adult, you have to engage with other people's feelings. And for that you'll need both imagination and experience. This is the only reason we will be allowing you to attend school in Makochi."
Suo's eye widens.
"You will ?" he asks, voice low, like speaking any louder will shatter the moment.
Instead of answering, his master laughs quietly.
"I still remember the day you begged me to train you. You've always been a stubborn boy. I know you've been wanting to step away from this place for a while, I can see it in your eye."
Suo lowers his head in shame. How embarrassing. He owes his master a lot, and yet there he is, always asking for more, not being satisfied with the fact that he's still alive, with a roof over his head and clothes on his back.
"Hayato." he meets the gaze of his master. He's not smiling anymore. "You belong to the Family. Until your debt is paid, maybe ever after that."
Suo knows. That is the one thing he can never forget.
He was ten when his father got involved in some shady business. Money was involved. Money is always involved. Money his father couldn't pay back. He was ten and one evening their house got raided.
He doesn't remember much about it, just screams and yells and loud noises. His mother trying to shield him with her body, the obscene sound of bones breaking. Excruciating pain like a dragon had breathed fire inside his skull.
He had woken up at the hospital, to the sounds of his mother's cries. His father had been arrested. His mother's legs were crushed and would require some heavy treatment if she ever hoped to walk again. He had lost an eye. And his home.
The yakuza had entered the scene after that. Because of course the money was theirs. And they wanted it back. Suo had watched as his mother begged and cried for mercy, to no avail. She could not pay them back, she could not pay for her hospital bills, or their apartment, or food for him. She had nothing to give them, Suo was the most precious thing she had, she needed to raise him right, he didn't deserve any of that. 'Do not punish him for his father's mistakes.' is what she had said.
But Suo, he had understood something else.
He was the most precious thing.
He had value.
He would pay them back. With his life.
Thinking back, that shouldn't have worked. Maybe they had felt pity, or found it entertaining. Maybe they had just looked at him and seen a weapon they could forge. Maybe it was none of this, and he was just an hostage, tied to the promise to pay back an amount of money his ten years old self couldn't even wrap his head around. But back then he didn't matter. If his father wasn't here to be a responsible adult, then Suo would be. For his mother. For himself.
He had thrown his life away.
They had carved the crest of the Matsuba-kai[4] on his back, like a slave mark, dark ink staining his skin forever. A perpetual reminder that he could not run away from the deal he had made.
And now, here he is. Bound to a life with a yakuza, yet craving the sweet taste of freedom.
Childish.
Selfish.
Worst of all, hopeful.
══════❀══════
His school uniform gets delivered a few days before his fifteenth birthday.
It's a deep green, with golden buttons and some details on the collar and the sleeves. Suo tries it on immediately. He looks at himself in the mirror for a long time, wondering if he will be able to pretend he belongs among these people he doesn't know yet. He fidgets with his earrings, his mother's earrings, the ones she was wearing that evening. She had given them to him when the yakuza had come back to take him away. Suo sees her eyes - the same deep red as his - every time he goes to sleep. How terrified she had looked. How she had run her hands through his hair and whispered in his ear, voice trembling.
'Come back to me.'
He would. He will.
He hopes.
The same day, he's back in the Honbucho's office.
"You are to come back home everyday. If at any point I deem your behavior unfit of the opportunity I give you, this stops. And if you think you're old enough to be out there, then I expect you to act like a proper member of this Family. You are not going to school, you are going to work. No more than six months. These are my conditions."
Six months is unfair, Suo thinks. It's not even a full school year. But he knows better than to voice his thoughts out loud. He tries not to be disappointed. He's not a child anymore after all, throwing a tantrum would be so embarrassing.
His hesitation doesn't go unnoticed though, and the man's voice cuts through the air.
"Take it or leave it, Hayato."
This is final.
And this is fine. After all, he gets to step outside. Six months is plenty. Until he satiates his curiosity and quenches his thrist of freedom. Then he can go back on belonging to the yakuza.
But until then, he guesses he can be a little selfish.