Yakuza Boy: Or the Man with Painted Flesh (~Unedited~)

Chapter 29

(Yuji's POV)

The Boss's voice was going in and out over the phone. When I came to, the only thing on the other end of the line was a dial tone.

The only words I was able to remember from the brief exchange was cleanup and Kida. My skin started to itch and I scrubbed my hands along my face, still reeling from today's events. Maggie wanted me to cut back on my cigarette intake but I needed this.. It was like medicine to me and I knew it would calm me down quite a bit. I lit up quickly and enjoyed the familiar, smokey, taste exhaling slowly.

I didn't have to wait for very long because a cleanup crew was confiscating Kida's dead body by the time I was done with my third cigarette. My back was turned to the workers and I tried to stop my hands from shaking when I heard the familiar sound of a body bag being zipped.

The stench that accompanied rotting meat didn't bother me like it did years ago but my stomach turned all the same.

A man stands in front of me.. his mouth is moving and his eyebrow is raised in question.

I don't know what he's saying and I don't care to fake interest.

I flick my cigarette to the side and push the smoke from my nose, giving the man a stoic, bored look.

He shuts his mouth and shuffles away wordlessly.

The sun has started to set and I know that the drive home is going to be longer than it needs to be...

I pull myself out of the mental funk, pull away from the curb, and speed out of Nagisa knowing that Kida's death would always be tied with it.

It was not a comfortable feeling whatsoever.

******

The moon is the only light source I have and I curse myself for not giving Maggie a phone.

Kida's warning hangs in the air and I go back and forth with my conscious.

I parked in front of the house and exit quickly upon noticing that the front door is ajar.

I grabbed the piece from the waistband of my jeans and stopped in the middle of the street when I saw a mysterious liquid on the first two steps of the old stairs. My nerves were shot at that point and I was breathing erratically when I saw that the substance was also on the tile floor of the living room...

I closed the door as quietly as I could.

The substance wasn't fresh but it smelled like iron and after running an index finger over it... My first guess was correct.

"Maggie?"
I called.

There was no answer.

"Maggie?!"
I called out again, my voice booming this time.

I quickly make my way towards the stairs but stop when I hear Maggie's voice come from the kitchen.

"I'm here..."

The first thing I see when I round the corner is Maggie, lowered to the floor, back against the sink, and cradling a bloody mass.

"Are.. Are you hurt?!"
I placed the gun on the table and crouch down, holding her tear stained face between my large, calloused ones. She starts to cry and I know that I shouldn't be so rough with her but I clutch her face tighter, giving her a slight shake, and ask again.

"Are you hurt, Maggie? I need to know!"

She shakes her head and relief washes over me for a split second but there is still room for concern.