Servant Of The Underworld

Volume 2: Destroy From The Inside

Enigma: something or someone mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand. In the case of myself, Umeda Mika, I was slowly gaining a reputation as the 'Loser Dog of the Bara-gumi,' or the 'Bara-gumi no Makeinu.'

Nobody could decipher when or how the Makeinu would strike, but when she did, and if you didn't have your payment, you would have to gamble between yubitsume or death via a coin toss... or so the rumors say.

Of course, that was all bullshit. I haven't killed anyone yet, but felt the urge to do so when I remembered the goal I had set for myself last month in July: I would kill Ninagawa Charlotte for what she did to Hidaka Nozomi. Taking my anger out on the clients of the Bara-gumi would be useless, as it would draw unwanted attention and potentially land me right back where I was a month ago: in a metal chair with heated coils strapped around my torso. The part about gambling their safety with a coin toss was true, but rather than death, I would either perform yubitsume or add another week onto their deadlines. I considered my tactics pretty fair, and the game added a bit of flair to my dull life.

For the sake of my own safety, I would remain an enigma amongst our clients, perform my duties under the Wakagashira member, Kazuya, and become an essential part of his team of loan sharks. I would spend my days humiliating clients, making public displays of their misery to ensure my street cred, as well as the Bara-gumi's, through intense scare tactics, such as following them to work or school, home or shopping, and even going so far as to assault them when my messages went unheard. Sometimes, if I could make it happen, I would break into their homes and steal as much cash and jewelry as I could, which seemed to spark a series of ongoing investigations among the police. But even if they found forensic evidence, I, Umeda Mika, don't even exist. I am an enigma.

* * *

It was August 30th, and I found myself in the red-light district of Tokyo, staring ahead at the humble storefront that read 'Hidaka's Ramen and Beer,' with a feeling of misery clouding my mind. I hadn't meant to stare so long, but on the off chance that Nozomi opened her window to gaze outside, I wanted nothing more than to see if she was safe and sound. It had been so long since I'd last seen her, and I had no idea if she or Jin were still holding up okay. Occasionally, I would leave stacks of cash tucked under the back door of the shop, and always noticed that the next day, it was gone. I'm sure they knew who was doing it, but the fact that they took it gave me a sense of security. I at least knew that Jin and Nozomi were receiving financial aid from me in order to assist them with their debt. In some twisted way, it felt like I was finally repenting for the horrors I had put them through.

Another twisted habit I picked up was tying my hair in a ponytail and switching from my black pencil skirt to the more masculine black slacks that Masaaki kept on hand in his shop. What made the gesture twisted was that I was trying to copy Harumi, who only wore slacks to, and I quote,
"Keep the blood from staining her legs,"
when she performed what she called "elimination."
I would tie my hair up in a ponytail and wear my slacks and blazer with twisted pride, as if the organization I was working for was something to be proud of. It wasn't.

Speaking of Masaaki, every now and then, I would receive permission to stay the night in his shop, where I could fry myself fish cakes or frozen stir fry and give myself a whore bath in his private restroom well past midnight. When I wasn't assisting Kazuya or the other Kobun members during the day, I would take a gamble and give Masaaki a call to see if I could hole up in his clothing store and talk the night away before he left for home. Much like Nozomi, Masaaki would partake in trivial girly crap like painting our nails together or applying makeup in the mirror like I was his little sister. It helped ease the anxiety and memories of what happened with Nozomi, so I silently thanked him for the simple gestures each time.

It wasn't until September 1st that I had officially received my first "paycheck" from Kazuya. Calling it a paycheck was a loose term, as it was just a few thousand yen, occasionally covered in small red stains, and rolled up with a rubber band. Despite the unsightly appearance, money was money, and I had never earned currency for any sort of work in my entire short life thus far.

Kazuya said,
"Congrats. If you keep up the good work, I'll consider a little raise."
This made me feel like the kind of tasks I had been performing were just an ordinary job.

Kazuya didn't know about the occasional stacks of cash I would steal from our clients debt collection to slip under Hidaka Jin's door every couple of weeks, but if I had kept that money for myself, I would probably have enough to rent my own room. With the blood money I was earning now, it would be quite some time until I could find a place to call home, so the streets of the red-light district became my oyster.

The off chance of running into Hidaka Jin and Nozomi was slim, given the fact that during my time staying with them, I hadn't seen Hidaka Jin leave the restaurant more than once, and Nozomi only left to attend school, which was in the opposite direction of where I usually stayed. I could continue spying from the shadows as I so pleased.

* * *

It was around the time of my fiftieth day as a member of the Bara-gumi when I received a call from Kazuya, explaining in great detail what I would be doing.

"You'll be assisting Takeshi and his crew at one of our gambling halls tomorrow. Your job is simple: you offer cash and input the figures onto our database, taking down names and amounts while surveying our clients in real time. Don't worry about the address; I'll have Takeshi's Kobun pick you up from Masaaki's."
He casually dropped this information like it was normal for a thirteen year old girl to understand, and then added,
"Think of it like loan sharking. Instead of collecting the debt, you provoke it, and push the agenda that a bigger loan could mean bigger profits for them. They're usually a bunch of sad saps with addictions anyway, so even if you don't try, they'll come to you regardless."

Great. Just great. Not only am I being booted to the mysterious Takeshi's crew for a day, but I now have to crunch numbers. I'm no good at math, Kazuya. I never went to school!

I was at least thankful for one thing: my voice had come back over this last month. While I didn't use my voice much anyway, I was still relieved that I didn't have any lasting damage. Part of what made me an enigma among clients was my lack of speech, and now I would have to converse profusely for an entire day with the same people I would potentially be taking money from the following month. It all seemed a bit counterproductive to me, but as I mentioned before, I would play along as a lapdog until I had the skills to properly destroy this organization from the inside. Killing Ninagawa Charlotte was still my top priority, but at the immature age of thirteen, that task would prove nearly impossible. I was willing to wait years if I had to, just for another chance to kick her in the temple with more muscle on my bones, hopefully snapping her neck next time.

For the time being, I would prepare myself for the day ahead. I had a rough time sleeping as I pondered the unruly characters that awaited me in an illegal underground yakuza gambling hall just a few hours from now.