Zugzwang, Book II, Chapter 044
Chapter 044 – Stilted words under a flood of music
While the private life of one Arashi member was slowly unravelling, the private life of another more boisterous member was improving. Having lately redeemed himself in his lady’s eyes by assuring her of his constancy and having won the approval of her parents, Aiba was positively beaming. He was beaming so widely that were Nino in the vicinity, the younger man would have uttered a scathing remark as to the blinding light coming from his teeth. Fortunately for Aiba, the truculent Nino was spending his evening lying on his professor’s lap playing his DS and nowhere near the Opera House where a performance was about to begin.
It was Aiba’s personal, optimistic belief that things would get better for all the Arashi members since his personal life was looking up. It was a simplistic way of looking at things, but Aiba’s mind was incapable of conceptualising complexities just as it was incapable of grasping why many people had the tendency to make life more complicated than it already was. He was at that moment at the Opera House perusing the newspapers and waiting for Renée-Caroline’s performance to begin.
He had, if he had full control of his time, wanted to attend the matinee performance with Alys, but his work commitments meant that he was deprived of Alys’s company. He would have preferred it if ‘mama’ were there to explain things to him, but as it was, his ‘mama’ had chosen to attend the matinee performance because she wanted to spend the evening with Nino. Well, it did not matter, he thought. He could always ask Renée-Caroline after the performance if he failed to understand. For now, however, he wanted to read the newspapers. Sho had stated that Sora was cited in an article and Aiba, being curious, wanted to see what it was about. Finally, after much desperate flipping, he chanced upon the relevant headline: Sakiyama Jewel wins the Tanizaki Prize.
“The Tanizaki Prize? What was that?” were some of the questions running through Aiba’s mind, as he scanned the article for information. It wasn’t until he finished the article that he understood that the Tanizaki Prize was the country’s most prestigious literary award. It also took him a while to realise that Sora had won it.
To him, it was momentous news that required celebration and fried chicken. Despite his initial impulse to dash out and phone Sora, he remembered that he was in the Opera House and unable to make a call. It was almost time for the curtains to rise and he had promised Renée-Caroline and her mother that he would watch their performance. A promise was a promise after all, and seeing how he had confused the date of her parents’ arrival, it was the least he could do to make up for it. Secure in these thoughts, he failed to observe two persons slip into the box.
“Ano ne, I didn’t think you would actually be here, ne,” said the taller of the two as he leaned over Aiba’s shoulder.
“Jun-chan!” exclaimed Aiba in genuine excitement and delight. “Did Renée save you tickets too?”
“She sent us all tickets if we wanted them. But we’re the only ones here today. Chiaki has to work due to a cock-up at her laboratory and Sho is occupied. Ohno’s still stewing over the Umebayashi-Morimoto confrontation since Ninomiya saw him two days ago. The misers are working through the evening. Alys was setting mid-semester exams in advance when I called, and Ninomiya-kun was in the background, complaining about losing money between the gaps of the fridge and the cabinets,” Sora offered as explanation as she sat down and fanned herself with the programme booklet.
“Oh! Mama came for the mid-week matinee thingy. Nino said he hears enough of this kind of music at home because mama listens to it all the time. Do you think them weird? I think they’re 100% weird,” Aiba blithely ran on, grinning at both Jun and Sora. “Mama thinks Renée-chan’s mother has a very innovative interpretation. I think it would be good too. Want to go for supper after this?”
“How much can you eat, ne?” Jun rolled his eyes and sat down, folding his arms. “Every time you eat, it makes me feel sick, eh, because you eat so much.”
“I do not! I’m a growing boy!” protested the self-professed super idol indignantly.
“Growing sideways, ne.” Jun raised a disinterested brow at his friend.
Ignoring the youngest member, Aiba grabbed the novelist’s hands impulsively and merrily continued, “Sora-chan! I read about your Tanizaki Prize thingy! It’s 100% super great! I knew you could do it! What book was it for? Was I the hero in it?”
“It isn’t something I think you would read,” Sora told him as kindly as she could. “It’s one shock to another in the book.”
“How shocking is shocking?” asked Aiba, eyes shining with interest.
“Eto, chapter one opens with wife rape. The courts let him get away with it. The boy and girl twins have an incestuous relationship, eh. That’s just for starters, ne,” Jun said in a bored droning drawl as he flipped through the programme booklet.
Those words and the dimming of the lights in the Opera House effectively silenced Aiba, who was still blinking over the things he had been told about Sora’s prize winning book. The muscular, stolid form of Date-san discreetly watched them in the box across theirs.
A thin smile graced the lips of Arashi’s manager as he witnessed the camaraderie they shared even out of the recording studio. Unlike the trio opposite him, Date-san was not there by choice. Rather, he was in the Opera House by design. One of his contacts, the head of one of the One Winged Stork gang in Tokyo had a penchant for classical music and never missed a performance. Date-san checked his watch, wondering where his contact had been. It wasn’t like his associate to arrive late for a performance especially when he had arranged for a ‘business’ meeting.
However, he needn’t have worried. The elusive contact soon slithered into the seat next to him as his other ‘brothers’ guarded the door to the private box. A curt nod and a brief silence followed when Renée-Caroline and Eguchi Tamiko walked out on the stage to the feet stamping applause of the orchestra.
On the programme that evening was Rachmaninov’s third, and the audience, the critics, and the orchestra were all in equal parts trepidation and excitement. Everyone’s breath (save possibly Aiba’s) was sucked in as they awaited the execution of this technically demanding piece. As soon as the first movement began, Date-san watched with amusement as his contact rolled his head back with a handkerchief in his hand, poised at the ready to dab away the tears. Not for the first time, Date-san marvelled at the incongruous figure his associate cut. His contact was one of the most feared leaders in the underworld, yet he was effeminate in his habits and mannerisms.
“We’ve found Yoshida Akira,” stated the contact plainly, staring down at the pianist and the orchestra, completely mesmerised by the music as it became more intense.
Date-san darted his eyes to his friend briefly. He had, of course known of the strong antipathy between the One Winged Stork and the Silver Beetle gangs, and was therefore surprised to learn that the Storks had succeeded in locating the errant blackmailer when the Beetles had failed. “Where?” he asked quietly.
But the head of the One Winged Storks seemingly did not hear the question. He toyed with the edges of his handkerchief and continued, “Yoshida snuck into our gambling den in the factory slums last night and tried to borrow from us. He could offer us no collateral we were interested in, but we welcomed his continued patronage at our den. He will return, I expect. He does owe us some money.”
Torn between thanking the deities for his good luck and cursing Chiaki’s uncle for his gambling proclivities, Date-san enquired as to the venue of the illegal gambling establishment.
As soon as his contact related the exact place to him, he went on, “Ano, Date, we could silence him permanently for you. He doesn’t look like he’d pay us back, and if we don’t get back our interest… You know how it is. Business.” He paused and made a careless gesture as he dabbed the corner of his eyes as the first movement of the piano concerto came to an end. “We’d pin it on the Beetles; the coppers get the Beetles, and your man is silenced. Three times the benefit.”
“Not yet. I have to see him for myself first,” Date-san said, declining his associate’s generosity as he brushed off his sleeve and rose. “Thanks for the tip off.”
“No problem,” replied the yakuza boss. “Use the back door when you get there.”
