The Ransom Unpaid

Chapter 4: Sashimi

4:51 P.M
Tokyo, Japan
The 79 Club

Anzai Hiroshi was as normal as any other 17-year old boy could be. No, let's rephrase that: As normal as any other teenager with a few million bucks in his bank account could be. Yep, that described Anzai. Except all that money would be absolutely useless if his cousin, Harui Hiroshi, didn't make it in time to this family dinner.

Great Aunt Akemi was flying all the way from Surrey for a "special bonding session" with her family which, everyone in the family knew, was code for "I'm losing my mind living in this hell-hole with all these white people and while my husband is away on his business trips to Shanghai, I'm stuck here with that bitch Audrey next door that will not shut up about how she loves Asian culture and how she loves going there as if I don't know about her relationships with B-List Chinese models that she picks off low budget runways in run-down bars in Beijing so I need to criticize family and keep up in the gossip in Asia to maintain my sanity or else my face will be on the headlines of newspapers with the words 'Homicidal Maniac' printed above" but people like Harui and Anzai see it more as a free-money opportunity. If you suck up to her and you're lucky enough, you just might go back home with a fat stack of cash. And everyone knew that Harui was Akemi's favourite grand-niece.

If Anzai could stick to her side the entire night, he would also be able get some of that sweet, sweet brown bills. But Harui was late. Sure, the meeting time was 4 P.M. but that was in Akemi time. Her 4 o'clock meant it was 6 o'clock for the rest of them. Every time she would come around, Harui made sure to be there at least an hour early. Something must've gone wrong for her to be late, the Harui Anzai knew would make it to the place even if she was run over by a truck. He had tried texting her but she didn't respond, she hadn't even read the 10 messages he left her; he started getting anxious. He really needed the cash but he had a close to 0% chance at getting it if he worked by himself.

Anzai looked at his Audermars Piguet Royal Oak watch which he had gotten the year before worriedly. Waiting outside the restaurant was a good idea, he could give Harui a piece of his mind when she arrived fashionably late.

While outside the entrance, he heard the talks of some of his uncle's staff. "I heard Harui Hiroshi got kidnapped on the way to school!" God damn it! That Harui just had to go ahead and get herself kidnapped on the one day that Anzai cared about her well-being?!

Just then, a black Mercedes parked in front. Makoto, Anzai recognized, got out of the back seat and opened the door, giving way for Uncle Akito's assistant, Riko to come out followed by the one and only Harui Hiroshi. The heiress was wearing a ruffled silk Georgette shirt with a bow that Anzai knew was Gucci, and a black mini skirt. The outfit along with her half up half down hairdo made her look like the perfect daughter to Akito and Inko Hiroshi. As much as he hated admitting it, it was impressive how she could put herself together.

"Hey," she walked up to her cousin, "It didn't start yet, right?"

"Nope but you sure are late." He tapped on the top of his watch.

"Sorry for getting kidnapped, Anzai. It's totally my fault," she said sarcastically as she bowed down.

"Haha, very funny," The two of them made their way into the restaurant and to the table that Anzai's mom had booked. Like always, Anzai and Harui were the first ones to make it.

"Wanna order?" Anzai asked, looking at the laminated brown menu as he sat on the soft velvet cushion.

"Sure," Harui commented, sitting next to him.

"What do you want?"

"Let me see..." She started looking intently at the menu.

"What happened today, anyway?"

"Publicity and money, 65 million, till sunrise, Yakuza- oh! Sashimi..."she got distracted as she looked at the menu. "Is shit-face coming?" Harui asked in English.

"Of course he is," Anzai answered. Hoshitsuki, (or like Anzai and Harui like to call him, shit-face) was their intolerable cousin that lived for sucking up. Of course he would never miss out on this glorious opportunity but Harui had a little hope that he would. Anzai switched back to Japanese, "Not that it matters. Everyone knows you're great-aunt Akemi's favourite."

"It takes a lot of work being the favourite, you know," Harui sighed, "Having to call or text everyone every week. It gets tiring."

"But the result is still worth it,"

"You got that right. What's taking shit-face so long?"

"He's probably coming in with Aunt Akemi."

"Fucking typical,"

"How'd you escape?" Anzai asked, curiously.

"The usual, basically most of the lessons we got last year at that training centre." A chill went down her spine thinking about the hellish training. "My sleep paralysis demon is William telling me to go through that laser room."

"Same," The two sighed in unison. "How was school today?"

"Since when did you care?" Harui deadpanned.

"Since dad froze my card."Harui started laughing. "It's not funny!" Anzai exclaimed, flustered.

"Sorry, sorry"- she wheezed, -"He- he f-froze your card?" She wiped a tear from her eye. "That's why you've been acting so desperate?"

"Yeah, basically,"

"What happened?" She tried to take a sip of water from the glass cup but failed because she was smiling too much.

"You seem too happy about all of this,"

"Of course I'm happy!" She put the cup back on the table with vigour, "The high-maintenance Anzai Hiroshi has finally been cut off from his precious daddy's money? Whatever will the poor boy do now?" She dramatically placed the back of her hand on her forehead and gave out an elongated sigh.

"Big words for someone wearing a head to toe Gucci outfit," he snapped back.

"Excuse me? My shoes are Dolce! Also, I would recognize that Moriyama Kei suit you're wearing from a mile away."

"Of course you would recognize it. The fashionista Harui Hiroshi know everything about fashion, right?"

She rolled eyes at her annoying older cousin. Ever since they were little, bickering was a normal thing for them but no matter how many years it had been, she could never get used to his antics that she wished he would grow out of.

"What's up, you little shits?" A voice so annoying, that even Anzai's habits couldn't reach its level, rang through the private room. The two sitting whipped their heads so fast to make sure it wasn't the guy they thought it was, that there was a little crack sound afterwards from their neck.

But alas, all their wishes couldn't be granted. Hoshitsuki arrived wearing a white three-piece suit that Harui recognized he got last month as a reconciliation gift from his Egyptian best friend, who was also equally annoying. It was custom made, of course. That little brat refused to wear anything that wasn't made especially for him.

The 19-year old sat with a smug smile on his face, his smile inviting Harui, the known fashion maniac of the Hiroshi clan, to ask about his clothes. Harui didn't bother looking at him a second time.

"What are you doing here, nii-chan?" Anzai cringed as he addressed his older cousin, being forced to call him that was literal torture.

"There's no way I could possibly miss meeting my favourite little cousins after so long, right?" he swiped his brown hair that was obviously dyed, with his hand as he looked fake-adoringly at the two of them. It was obvious he came earlier to keep these two in check.

Harui and Anzai sighed at the same time as they looked at each other.

It was going to be a long night.