Janitorial Job

Renji was escorted into meeting room, in brown prison uniform. The cuffs on his feet and hands jingled with each step.

The room was bright and stale sick green. A bolted stainless chair and a thick glass pane between Renji and his visitor welcomed him. The guard cuffed his legs to the chair then unlocked his handcuffs.

“Thank you. By the way, I can still break your neck and get the key.” Renji grinned then nodded with his hands together like a Buddhist monk. The guard's face paled and hurried out the room. That expression alone was worth thanking.

Across the thick glass window sat a large figure in a suit entered through the door. Short boxy hair with a scar ran along his left forehead through his hair. Renji recognized the scar. A briefcase, no badge and ring on his ring finger.

“Egawa Shinichiro, look at you, climbing the ladders of..." Renji sneered.

“Mikawa Renji. Shinyocho has a deal for you.” Egawa cut Renji's greeting flatly and sat down.

Renji almost laughed - a deal? probably pardon with leash shorter than Egawa's hair. After the JSDF* Tengu program shut down they just created another one, neutered one, to control the spirit used in the country.

“...Bureaucracy. From loading bullets to pushing pencil with your thumb. Lucky you, and here I am sucking on my thumb." Renji finished.

Egawa ignored Renji’s words and opened a brief case and placed a file on the table. “Hakoha Onsen Case” it said.

Egawa opened the file and piles of pictures of frozen people, icicles impaled on tatami mats and smashed walls, and frozen hot springs surrounded by a thick wall of ice. Renji’s bored eyes sharpened as he recognized the faces. Lieutenants and advisors of Suiryu-Kai - his superiors. All frozen dead. Egawa slowly moved his large hands to splay the pictures across the table. Renji tried to get up but the chains stopped him. He almost leapt forward to the glass pane to see the last photo on the stack. His Kumicho - his boss, fear written all over his blue face.

“So, you finally iced them, so what, you want to kill the leftovers?” Renji’s knuckles whiten, then cracks his joints.

Egawa answered cryptically. “Almost, Surveillance.”

Almost everyone, he realized as the pictures fanned across the table. His boss's face pinned him harder than the chains. Renji's nails dug into the palm of his fist. He could still hear his voice: "You're part of us now. Pay your debts, keep your honor."

"Violence is effective but a last resort." His old scar on his shoulder burned where he used to place his hand on. The man who taught him restraint lay blue and still. Now the restraint was gone and the obligation remained, a chain of weight he would shoulder gladly. He noticed two faces were missing, advisor and the oroko-wielder. If the bureau dangled a pardon, Renji already knew where to start looking.

“Screw you and your damn government. The last time we were in a program together, they shut the it down just because the Yankees* didn't want it.”

“A full pardon. Strictly observation.” He finally looked up, his round face with thick brows and stubbles on top of his large frame gave an image of a bear.

“We have a lead on Yukikaze's identity, Yukihana-ikka’s trump card. No killing.”

“No killing. You expect me to not strangle anyone with that government leash on my neck?”

“Your job is to enter the Sumida Riverside Shinyo High School as a janitor to observe on Yukihana-ikka’s Kumicho’s daughter, Yukiharu Hanako.”

The bear wasn't listening, just churning out the briefing.

Renji studied the girl’s face. Porcelain skin, funeral‑black hair. A watchdog job on a schoolgirl — laughable. The Bureau wanted him chained, not her caught. He’d play along, but the game would end in fire. Revenge was still his to claim.

“From JSDF Tengu Program elite to a high school janitor?” Renji spat on the ground. Pretending to not biting the bait.

Egawa growled mixed with a sigh and pretended not to see Renji’s actions, “While you’re in prison, Orochi-gumi’s Oyabun died, natural cause, and the remaining seven heads are slowly raising their arms against each other.”

Renji is starting to get the picture. They're fighting for the next head of the Orochi.

“Why not just arrest them and call it a day or ask your dear Uncle Sam for help?”

“it’s not that simple. You, however...”

“I am not doing dirty work for any of you government dogs.”

“That girl could be Yukikaze, your Kumicho's murderer.”

“A doll on your most‑wanted list? That’s your best hand?” Renji straightened. Either they thought he was stupid, or they were deadly serious — and both were useful.

“Exactly. Twenty-four-hour phone call reports, no action until the evidences are solid. Even if she's not the real deal. You walk free. That's the deal.”

He won't just do killing. He will give them a full-scale war. I'll push the entire seven heads to go against each other. Set the entire Tokyo on fire.

Egawa takes out a cigarette and puts it on his mouth, unlit, gathered the photos and the files.

“You have twelve-hours to answer. We have your documents ready to work at Shinyo High by Monday.”

- - -

Egawa left the prison and lumbered over to the phone booth under a lone street lamp. He squeezed into the booth, lit cigarette after cigarette; the ashtray filled, the glass fogged, his jaw never relaxed. He slowly picked up the phone and dialed, each number pressed as if he's about to break the machine.

“Egawa reporting. Yes. He’ll bite the bait - pride and grudge will make him predictable. He’ll stir succession conflict even further. Raicho-kai and Inugami-gumi have already begun encroaching on each other’s turf without our interception."

Egawa dropped the cigarette butt, stamped out with a single hard press. Then put a new one on his mouth without lighting it. "No, the pictures did all the work. Yes sir, he will definitely provoke other syndicates over observation. Yes, we’ll keep observing Yukihana‑ikka and Mikawa. Yukiharu's homeroom teacher is our watcher. His proximity would provoke Yukihana-ikka and Wanyudo-gumi first most likely."

There was a long pause. His thick brows furrowed and he almost bit into the cigarette. "He won’t notice. Even if he does, based on our assessment, he will most likely continue his plans.”

He hung up hard. The receiver rattled against the hook. He ran his fingers through his scar as his jaw tightened. He lit another cigarette, drew smoke deep.

Then he slammed the glass pane. "Yes, we'll protect the students."

Footnotes

* During the 1980s the word Yankee was used as a derogatory term to call Americans in Japan. This is Renji Mikawa's, a fictional character, perspective, not the author's.

* Japan Self Defense Forces