Singing and Smiling

Singing. Of course there was singing. It was a bar in Tokyo after business hours. These men were vicious monsters, criminals through and through, but they still held the spirit of dutiful salary men engaging in enforced coworker bonding.

And Smiler was a hell of an enforcer.

“Perfect. Karaoke,” Harry grumbled, sticking his fingers in his ears. Please, let him start trying to stab me, he thought woefully. It’d be less painful.

“He truly is a monster,” Gaku said, removing his hat and glasses, throwing the former on the bar and putting the latter in a protective case. The ten or so rough looking men in what they thought were classy clothes cheered on Smiler as he crooned his best, singing a high energy J-Pop song which belonged nowhere near this type of seedy bar. Smiler himself was a thin and scrappy devil of a man, slicked back hair and wide eyes which refused to blink, giving him the look of a man about to snap. And his grin of perfectly straight white teeth stretched near to his ears, as if each movement of his mouth was done to serve the image. Smiler was a showman, and his grin told people they were staying for the show whether they wanted to or not.

“He’s not so bad,” Reo said, tilting his head slightly as he watched the show.

“Oh no. He’s rendered Reo deaf,” Gaku said, pulling Reo's head to his chest and stroking his hair like a wounded puppy. Reo pushed him off, straightening his suit.

“Thank you! Remember, honest criticism!” Smiler said as the crowd clapped, taking an overly dramatic bow.

“Seriously?” one of the thugs at the front asked. Smiler’s eyes snapped to him.

“No. Gimme…” Smiler started to say, moving his face uncomfortably close to the thug before seeing the trio in the back. “…PRAISE!”

Smiler leapt over the man, vaulting him like he was a gymnastics pommel. With a quick twist in the air he landed before them, bursting into a dramatic pose, as if he was expecting applause.

The yakuza psycho stared into Gaku’s eyes, his dead voids matching with the lively exorcist’s. “Gaku! Been since…” Smiler paused, looking up and tapping his chin as if thinking hard. “…the babies, right?”

“I loathe you,” Gaku said, his voice suddenly devoid of his usual humor.

“Seriously?” Smiler asked, leaning in as if the statement fascinated him.

Gaku thought back to the day Smiler was referencing. Several suspected drug dealers had been abducted, along with their families. Demons had been sighted during the abductions, so Gaku had teamed up with the Tokyo police to track them down. They were discovered in an old warehouse where a pen of sorts had been created from old shipping containers. Ushi oni prowled in the pen, their spider bodies clacking along while the bull heads snorted and bellowed, their teeth gnashing on meat which had once been parts of human bodies. Smiler stood atop one of the containers, grin wide as ever, a cage next to him filled with the children of the drug dealers, ages ranging from infants to teens. The children had been forced to watch their parents be devoured by the demons.

“What?” Smiler had asked as he stood atop those crates, shrugging as if he had simply told a bad joke. Like he expected gratitude for not feeding the children to the ushi oni.

The brief mental walk down memory lane seemed to only reinvigorate Smiler as he saw it flash through Gaku’s eyes. He turned his lurid glare to Reo, who stood stiff and still, not taking any of Smiler’s bait.

“Reo!” Smiler shouted, his arms open wide as if he were greeting an old friend. “Sister still need a flea collar or…”

Smiler was hauled up into the air by two meaty fists grabbing his jacket collar and lifting with a sudden jerk. The scrawny man dangled there as he looked down at Harry, amusement and confusion on his face.

“Shut. Up,” Harry said, each word stern, calm and dangerous. He let Smiler drop to the ground, where he landed with a neat clack of his shoes on the wood floor. “Sit,” Harry said, pointing at the closest bar stool.

“Rude,” Smiler said, adjusting his jacket and brushing it off as he walked over to the stool. “And you are?”

“Annoyed. Sit. Now,” Harry commanded, and Smiler sat, looking up at the burly American like he was the most fascinating thing in the room all of a sudden.

“I assume you want Gouki,” Smiler said, treating the mob boss's name as casually as if he said Harry wanted ramen. Smiler shrugged, shaking his head sadly. “He’s currently busy. Perfecting his mullet, I’m told. Shame. I liked his hair.”

Harry glared at the person before him, casually leaning back against the whiskey soaked bar, tapping his fingers on it as if he were waiting for a cue only he knew about. Many people would simply write Smiler off as a madman, a gibbering idiot who refused to make sense.

Harry Vickers was not most people.

“You know why I’m here, freak?” Harry asked.

Smiler’s grin, if possible, grew wider.

Reo and Gaku leaned in.

Harry maintained his steady gaze. He refused to let the nut job control the direction of the conversation.

“Can’t believe my boss went after the book,” Smiler said, rolling his eyes slightly. He looked over his shoulder at one of the worker girls behind the bar. Harry slapped his hand down onto the sticky wood, snapping Smiler’s eyes back to him.

“Don’t …” Harry started to say. He had an entire rant ready to go, a vicious takedown of the disgusting man. Smiler, however, seemed on edge and eager about something.

“You have it with you?” Smiler asked, eager like a kid shaking presents at Christmas.

“No,” Harry said, catching Smiler looking back at the girl again.

“Smart. You want Gouki. He wants the book. Who will win?” Smiler asked, giving Harry an obnoxious wink. Then he turned, smacking his fist on the bar a few times. “Where’s my takoyaki? Earlier I asked for DINNER and a show!”

“Dinner and a…” Harry started to say, his danger sensors going on high alert. He had been right about the man. Smiler wasn’t crazy. He had never once been out of control of the situation.

“Turn around, Harry,” Smiler said, making a little swirling motion with his finger, letting him know he knew exactly who he was. Gouki probably had plenty of stories from the six months Harry had known him.

The three exorcists turned, seeing the group of thugs now standing at attention. They seemed less drunk, their eyes tight and narrow and focused, and each hand held a weapon. Knives, chains, pipes, brass knuckles. Harry realized then the truth about Smiler. He had expected a bar room brawl, not a group of alert assassins. Smiler was not a psycho. He was a showman. And the three of them hadn’t intruded upon his drunken partying. They were anticipated guest stars.

“Crap. We’re the show,” Harry said, cracking his knuckles.

“Takoyaki!” Smiler squealed as the bar woman brought his treat out, nervously looking around the room. Smiler popped one into his mouth, not bothering to wait for the hot octopus ball to cool down. He casually grinned and chewed. “Like I said, dinner and a show!”

They wouldn’t get anything further from Smiler unless they played his game. All three knew this. So knowing, they squared their shoulders, picking the men they wanted to take first. Harry then did something which surprised Smiler, an emotion the man wasn’t used to.

Harry smiled.

“Let’s dance,” Harry said, becoming the first to charge into the fray.