The Legendary Old Man of Table 7

Akio let out a long, pained groan, staring down at his half-empty beer. He was going to need many more beers before he was ready to accept what was happening.

Usually, he had a plan for nights like these. It was a good plan, that had gotten him through every mandatory work drinking party since he entered the workforce.

1. Sit as close to the exit as possible.

2. Smile, nod, and let other people talk.

3. Drink slowly.

4. Don’t get dragged into anything stupid.

5. Leave at a respectable time.

6. Go home and sleep, pretending none of it ever happened.

Tonight, none of those things were happening.

His plan was dead. It had been tied up, set on fire, and catapulted off the edge of Tokyo Bay the moment his welcome party merged with a goddamn circus.

The izakaya itself was the kind of place Akio would have appreciated under normal circumstances.

It was cozy and traditional, with paper lanterns casting a soft glow over booths packed with tired salarymen in rumpled white shirts, already on their third or fourth drink of the night.

An off-key rendition of an 80s City Pop song warbled from one of the private karaoke rooms upstairs and the walls were lined with faded calligraphy menus, vintage sake posters and framed black-and-white photos of sumo wrestlers.

It had all the makings of a perfect post-work drinking spot, but it was not built to contain the utter insanity currently unfolding inside.

A gothic clown, who looked like a haunted Victorian doll someone forgot to salt and burn, had materialised beside Akio, offering silence and unsettling eye contact whenever he made the mistake of turning his head the wrong way.

A bald, mountain of a man in aggressively tight spandex, had convinced a group of middle-aged men to start an arm-wrestling tournament. At the far end of the room, Tanaka-san, was currently locked in a losing battle. Every time his arm slammed against the table; the entire circus cheered.

Behind the bar, a short, raven-haired lady had coiled her massive, yellow python around the shoulders of an unfortunate bartender, casually explaining fun facts about reptile digestion while pouring herself a beer. The bartender, to his credit, looked only mildly horrified.

Akio had learned the pixie-cut girl’s name was Naomi, and Naomi, as it turned out, was just as dangerous as Amaya, which was how Kubo-san, ended up standing on a table, blindfolded, with a dart in one hand and a shot glass in the other.

"This is a terrible idea," Akio muttered.

"This is the best idea," Naomi corrected, grinning as she spun Kubo-san in a circle.

Kubo-san, swayed slightly, his blindfold slipping as he steadied himself. "Alright, alright," he said, raising the dart. "Where’s the target?"

Naomi clapped him on the back. "Directly behind you."

Akio shot to his feet. "What? There are people behind you!"

“Relax,” Naomi said. “The target is the balloon.”

Akio followed her pointing finger and, yes, there was a balloon taped to the wall, but directly beneath it was an unsuspecting couple trying to enjoy their drinks.

“This is ridiculous,” Akio groaned.

"Don’t stress it, it’ll be fine," Naomi waved him off. “Wait, maybe we should set the dart on fire?”

Akio couldn’t bear to watch, so instead he turned to Amaya. Seated cross-legged on the counter, she was in the middle of recounting “The Great Elephant Incident of '21” to a group of wide-eyed university students. As far as Akio could tell, it was at least 80% fabricated.

“And so, there we were!” she declared. “Me, a unicycle and a ramp that was way too short and also…on fire.”

Someone in the back whispered, “No way.”

“The crowd was silent,” Amaya continued. “The elephant, Titan, my dear, sweet boy, stood at the other end of the ring, looking at me like, ‘Amaya, please, for the love of all that is holy, do not do this.’”

She clutched a fist by her chest as though she was holding her grief.

“I looked back at him; he looked back at me. Time slowed and I knew…” she paused.

“…If I didn’t make that jump, I was going to die.”

Akio pinched the bridge of his nose, grateful to the bartender, who, perhaps sensing his existential crisis, slammed a full beer in front of him with the snake still curling around him.

“And then…” Amaya’s gaze swept over her rapt audience.

“BOOM!” She slammed both hands on the counter. One of the students flinched so violently that they nearly toppled off their stool.

“The ramp collapsed beneath me. I was in the air, free-falling, straight toward my doom. But then…”

She sprang to her feet, balancing on one foot with her arms spread wide as she recreated the nonsense she was spewing.

“Titan, my hero, my saviour, my majestic, trunked prince, caught me.”

The students stared in awe.

“So, what happened next?” one of them asked.

Amaya pressed a hand to her forehead, with a forlorn look on her face.

“I was… expelled.”

“No!” They gasped.

She nodded gravely.

“The ringmaster didn’t understand my vision. He said I was ‘too reckless,’ that I ‘brought shame to the troupe,’ that ‘I should go back to circus school’.”

One of the students whispered, “…Damn.”

The raven-haired woman sank into the stool next to Akio. She raised a hand, palm up, and snapped her fingers.

"Soba-chan, come here, my darling." She cooed, in her low, sultry voice.

Akio’s beer nearly slipped from his grip as the yellow snake he had been pointedly ignoring, slithered off the bartender’s shoulders, across the counter, and wrapped itself around her.

The bartender, let out a strangled sigh of relief and immediately poured himself a drink. Akio did not blame him, if anything, he respected him for holding out this long.

The lady turned to Akio.

"You know," she said, tilting her head, "that last part Amaya said was kind of true."

"You mean the part where she said the ringmaster didn’t understand her ‘vision’?"

"Mmhm." She took a sip of her drink, her bright red lips curling at the rim. "The one where he said she was ‘too reckless,’ that she ‘brought shame to the troupe,’ that she ‘should go back to circus school.’”

Akio snorted. "And I suppose you're going to tell me she was framed?"

She let out a short, throaty laugh. "Nyet," she said, setting her glass down. "He wasn’t wrong.”

That caught him off guard. "Wait. So, she did bring shame to the troupe?"

"Not exactly. Amaya took a bad trapeze fall a few months back. She was trying a trick she hadn’t trained for properly; thought she could just wing it on stage.”

Akio rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Mm." She leaned her cheek on her palm, watching him. "She walked away with nothing but a bruised ego and two cracked ribs, but it shook her. So, her parents sent her here to go through our training program, regain her confidence, you know, skill up.”

Akio frowned, glancing over at Amaya. She was mid-argument with a university student, waving her hands as she tried to convince him that walking on stilts was a vital survival skill.

“If you’re ever trapped in quicksand, what’s gonna save you? Huh? Your degree?”

Akio sighed. It was difficult to imagine her confidence ever needing rebuilding.

The lady must have noticed the disbelief on his face because she chuckled. "I know, right? She’s loud, reckless, and doesn’t shut up about her ‘artistic freedom’ but…" She trailed off. "She has talent, and she works hard, harder than most."

Akio didn’t really know what to do with that information.

He had spent the last twenty-four hours suffering under the wrath of Amaya van der Windt, the human embodiment of disruption, nonsense, and daylight robbery.

"Most of us chose the circus life," the lady said, "but Amaya, she was born into it. Tokyo’s the first time she’s had to stay put. The first time she has a room that belongs to her, a bed that doesn’t move, a city that won’t disappear when the show is over."

She stretched, rolling her neck before giving him a sideways glance. "You’ll take care of her, won’t you?"

Akio nearly choked. "Excuse me?"

"You're her roommate, no?"

As the lady raised an eyebrow, Soba-chan slowly lifted its head toward him. Its beady eyes locked onto him, flickering between his pulse point and his jugular, like whether it strangles him depended entirely on his next answer.

Akio swallowed. "That is, absolutely, not my responsibility."

The lady hummed, like she disagreed. Clearly, she had already decided she was right and was just letting him flail in denial. The snake flicked its tongue, tasting his cowardice.

"I think it is. You seem like a good guy Hosonuma-kun. You are tall, handsome and have a good head on your shoulders. Amaya deserves someone like you, someone who will look after her."

Akio sighed. "She has you guys for that."

"Mm. We’re her family, yes, but you are different. Your fates have been spun from the same thread.”

Akio stared at her, trying to gauge if this was just the alcohol talking.

"And if you hurt her… well." She mused, idly running a finger along Soba-chan’s coils. "You see, Hosonuma-kun, accidents happen all the time in the circus."

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, he was pretty sure that was a threat.

"Anyway, I’m Juliya. Owner of the Tsukiji Circus School." She gestured toward the back of the izakaya. "And that over there is my husband, Mio."

Akio turned just in time to watch Mio slam another poor man’s arm against the table. He flexed his muscles and once again, the izakaya erupted into cheers.

Akio downed the rest of his beer in one go, trying to ignore the sound of shattering glass and the fact that Kubo-san, in a true display of leadership, was now frantically trying to stomp out a small fire with his blazer while shouting, "It's fine! It's all under control!".

Naomi, completely unhelpful, pumped her fist. "AGAIN! BIGGER FLAMES THIS TIME!"

Amaya, on the other hand, still standing on the counter, was actively convincing university students to drop out and join the circus.

“Listen, my little academic prisoners,” she declared, throwing her arms wide like a prophet about to deliver divine revelation. “Do you know what school gives you?”

The students hesitated. One of them timidly raised a hand. “Um… a degree?”

“WRONG!” Amaya pointed at him accusingly.

He visibly recoiled.

“School gives you debt, suffering, and low self-esteem. School doesn’t teach you anything important in life, like how to do your taxes or how to dodge flaming hula-hoops.”

The group nodded slowly, muttering in agreement. Akio had to admit; she was almost on to something.

“Do you know what the circus gives you?” Amaya’s grin was downright wicked. “EVERYTHING!”

Without warning, she kicked up into a handstand. She bent her elbows, lowering herself into a forearm stand, one leg extended skyward, while the other curled down toward her face. Despite being folded in half, she looked completely relaxed.

One of the girls blinked. “Like… a liveable wage?”

“No,” Amaya said immediately.

“…Healthcare?”

Amaya paused, resting her cheek on one hand. “I mean, if you count Naomi sewing your wounds shut with dental floss…”

The group visibly paled.

“Hey, she has a lot of experience! But what I mean is,” Amaya forged ahead, completely ignoring their growing horror, “it gives you freedom! Adventure! Purpose!”

She rolled her legs forward and stood up.

“Listen, corporate life is a scam.” She continued, tossing a braid over her shoulder.

“You work fifty hours a week, and for what? Just to burn out by chasing promotions that don’t exist? Just take a look at Akio." She threw a hand toward him. "He’s only twenty-four and he's already lost the will to live. It’s tragic."

“Don’t drag me into this.” Akio scoffed.

Juliya knocked her elbow against his side, smirking. “She has a point, you know. How do you think Mio lost his hair?”

Completely ignoring Akio’s suffering, Juliya signalled the bartender. “Another round, for the both of us.”

Before Akio could protest, two fresh beers were plunked onto the counter in front of him.

The students hesitated, whispering among themselves.

“…That does sound terrible,” one of them admitted.

Amaya pounced.

“Right?” She swooped in on the weakness. “Meanwhile, in the circus, you wake up every morning and think, ‘Wow. I could be shot out of a cannon today.’”

A beat of silence.

One of the guys in the back nodded slowly. “That’s… kind of cool.”

“EXACTLY!”

“Yeah! Maybe she’s right?”

“Maybe we really should drop out?”

Akio’s eye twitched. Having officially had enough, he strode forward, grabbed her by the waist, and yanked her clean off the counter, before she could cause a nationwide labour shortage.

“Stop corrupting the youth.” He hissed.

Dangling midair, she peered at him with wide, innocent eyes, like she hadn’t just attempted to dismantle Japan’s entire higher education system.

“But I almost had them!” She pouted, wiggling indignantly in his grasp.

Akio sighed and set her down like he was releasing a biohazardous puppy into the wild (regretfully and with full awareness that this problem was not going away).

He took a deep breath, willing himself to find anything remotely normal to latch onto.

He turned to the bartender, who by now, looked dead inside. “Where is the owner of this place, anyway?” Akio asked, clinging to the desperate hope that someone, somewhere, had the authority to put an end to this madness.

Wordlessly, the bartender pointed to a window booth.

Akio followed his finger and spotted a short old man, quietly seated, flipping through a newspaper.

This place was on fire. There were people juggling knives, a giant snake slithering around, and at no point tonight had the arm-wrestling stopped.

Akio wondered if the old man was oblivious or just unconcerned.

Kubo-san, launched another one of his flaming darts. Akio barely had time to process the velocity with which it soared through the air. It completely missed the balloon target (which had yet to be hit even once), sailed past Naomi (who shouted “NOW, that’s what I’m talking about!”), and went straight for the old man.

Akio’s mouth opened in horror, but before he could so much as make a noise, the old man, casually lifted two fingers and caught the dart midair, without even looking up.

He calmly turned a page in his newspaper, like nothing had happened.

Akio, frozen in place, suddenly understood.

This wasn’t just some oblivious old man. He was one of them.

There was no manager, no responsible adult, no one was coming to stop this.

With the quiet despair of a man realizing he had no escape, Akio grabbed his beer, took a long, self-pitying sip, and accepted his fate.

The only thing that came close to this level of suffering was that one time he got stuck making small talk with his CEO in the office elevator for 17 floors. 

At least then, there had been an end in sight.