s Natsuki reasoned that they wouldn’t want anyone to come back to deal with the old lady, Takara gave a nod of agreement.
“If they are stupid enough to come back here again, then we’ll make sure they never make another choice in their lives.”
He assured, his voice warm and reassuring, as if he wasn’t talking about the systematic demise of at least an entire family of a Yakuza gang to make sure of such a thing. He figured if he kept his tone nice and even, the old lady they were dealing with would have no reason to worry either.
Despite the violence that they just brought against a bunch of thugs, Takara and Natsuki were arguably some of the most personable - if not the most personal people at the bar. Which meant that they were the perfect pair to go and speak with an old woman, frightened by the Yakuza. Everyone else besides may Yoshino would have bungled it up with their less than pleasant personalities or weird quirks that came from a lifetime of murder.
As the old woman disappeared, Takara flung an arm over Natsuki’s shoulders.
“You charmer, you. Maybe you can get her number and go on some gardening dates with her?”
He teased, planting a teasing kiss on Natsuki’s ear as they waited for the shop owner to come out, making continued kissing noises next to his ear just to pester the other man.
When Natsuki began to talk about the different flowers, he nodded along. As he usually did. Takara loved to listen to his friend talk about plants, but he didn’t absorb enough to truly follow his more complex descriptions.
“I’m sure she’d be glad to sell you some, and there’s plenty of room in Hani’s trunk to put them, right? Or are you planning on buying a lot of different plants.”
There might be some dirt left behind, but Hani wouldn’t mind he was sure of it. And if he did, well, this was far from the first time Takara had annoyed him.
As the old woman flipped to the page, Takara leaned in to read over it with Natsuki. The hospital was a surprising location, not the flowers for a lover or ex that he would have thought.
“Odd that the date is for this October and not last, that’s lot of foresight for a dead woman to send flowers like this, right? Unless it is some special day.”
Takara offered, thinking. He asked the old woman if he could write down the information, which he quickly did so that they could have it handy. Then he pulled out a business card for the bar.
“If you have any more trouble, please give my boss a call and my friend and I will come back out here and take care of it, okay?”
He offered, smiling warmly. She took the card with grateful, shaking hands and bowed to the two of them, murmuring her thanks.
“No need to thank us. It is simply the right thing. We’ll be back for some flowers same day too, my friend is a big fan.”
He said, nudging Natsuki with his elbow.
As they walked out of the shop, he mulled over what they could do.
“There’s no harm is going to check it out, right? The longer we wait, the more chance of us missing something.”
Takara offered, once more showing that he retained no fear when it came to their boss and leader.
“We don’t have to confront anyone, let’s just go to the hospital and see if we can sneak a peak at whoever is there. In and out, no problems.”
He said with a confident grin, certain that Natsuki would agree.
The level of comfortability that flowed endlessly between Takara and Natsuki was something that the others had often questioned in the beginning. Were they simply close friends or something more, whenever faced with that question both would laugh as skinship amongst them never carried any extra connotation. When Takara kissed his ear, Natsuki wrapped his arm around Takara's waist, "Well, if I ever stood a chance with my future plant dealer, this little display would definitely kill my chances. How could she compare to my fellow cutie crusader?" Natsuki had already snagged one of the cards for the business that were laying haphazardly across the front desk. The number was burned into his brain for his future purchases.
"I have every single intention of ordering from her later on, I don't want to have a screaming Hani tell me how the dirt in his trunk has ruined his ride and how he'll never trust me with the lightest of menial tasks." Nana lowered his arm as he focused on Takara's input on the location. Neither able to come to a conclusion that would truly satisfy their curiosity. From the little he knew about Saori, she didn't seem to have any health condition that would require her to spend a copious amount of time at a hospital. She'd have been quite foolish to outwardly visit a close relative knowing that they went through life with a target on their backs.
His attention once again retrained on the elderly woman as she began to shower them with her thanks. He shook his head as he tried to refuse them as they only did what they knew was right and necessary. "Ma'am it was truly our pleasure. If you really want to thank us, I'd love to have a moment to just sit and talk with you about what drove you towards the plant life and any tips you may have when dealing with their husbandry."
A deep exhale escaped Natsuki after they exited the flower shop, one hand scratching his hand as he tried to make sense of all the information they had at their disposal in the moment. His remaining hope for an explanation was located somewhere in the hospital, it was burning brighter at Takara suggesting they'd be better off investigating immediately. Natsuki quickly grabbed the keys from Takara and leapt into the driver seat, glad that Takara had adjusted the seats in order to get himself comfortable. An overly excited foot slammed onto the gas pedal as they peeled out of the small parking lot. The hospital itself was a good distance away from the shop which was even more odd as they passed a variety of flower shops that were closer.
The hospital that loomed over them somehow exuded a solemn aura, one that instantly told the gravity of anyone's situation upon arrival. "Besides Hani having a full-blown meltdown at the thought of me being behind the wheel of his baby, this side quest we're on is bound to make up for any residual anger he has after he calms down. Let's just hope that whatever we're here for doesn't end up being some sort of drawn-out setup from someone that would've expected us to follow her trail to this location. Could be someone holding out for the long scam that figured it's easier for them to lead us to them instead of trying to locate our actual hideout."
Rough-hewn knuckles flew past Shinju’s cheek, implanting themselves into the brick wall behind her, but her unimpressed glare remained unwavering. If she were to claim that she wasn’t mildly impressed by Yuusuke’s restraint, she’d be lying. Still, she knew better than to trust a man glowering down at her like a wild dog, unrestrained and ravenous to feel the crunch of bone and sinew under its teeth. The muscles in her right leg tensed. Had it not been for the clumsy shuffling of heavy footfalls gradually heading their way, she might have gone ahead and struck up and out with her knee.
A voice, raspy and carrying the unpleasant slurring of drunken speech, called out to the Red Moon duo. For a brief moment, the crimson eyes glaring into Yuusuke’s own broke contact to flick towards the newcomer. Her expression twisted into one of disgust, and she forcibly suppressed the nausea curling in the pits of her stomach at the thought of being romantically involved with that unruly…thing. Someone who couldn’t be trusted off a leash for more than a few days? With her? Perish the thought.
The head chef frequently gave Shinju flak for her violent temper, but at least she knew better than to stalk off to seedy hunting grounds and play into the hands of who-knows-what.
With the potential consequences in mind, she remained put, silently observing the two mangy dogs contesting who can bark louder. By the time the tattooed man had run away with his tail between his legs (how’d he even manage to crawl his way into the yakuza’s lap with that attitude?), she’d already released her grip on Yuusuke’s grip in favor of pulling out her phone.
Frustrated accusations and vulgar words poured from the normally silent chef’s mouth, but the black-haired woman hardly paid him any mind as she finished typing out a short message on her phone that she’d be late to the hostess bar.
“A hello would’ve been nice,”
she said, her tone reflecting her blasé attitude and eyes fixed to her phone’s screen. Upon confirming that her text had been sent, she folded her phone with a sharp click and lightly tapped it once against her chin.
“What am I doing? Keeping you from doing something really fucking stupid, but you probably think I’m the dumbass, don’t you?”
Shinju’s eyes once again narrowed into a sharp glare, adding to the chilling tension despite the anger simmering in the red of her irises.
“I’d love to send you off on your way to prison or hell or wherever you want to go, but I’m sure everyone else would be less than pleased to find government pigs or worse banging on the bar’s doors.”
