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"That's why. I have duties and obligations, too," Gulf mumbled drunkenly to a stranger at the bar.
He'd gone home to change and then headed out to the town. By now, he'd tossed back enough drinks that he barely knew where he was. He just needed someone to listen to him. Now he was telling this stranger his life story.
"Being a Yakuza means cutting ties with your real family," he went on. "It's really for the best. Otherwise, you'd first fuck over your brothers. Then you'd fuck over your friends. You'd take all their money and chew them down to their bones. That's what it's like to be Yakuza. Hey, are you listening to me? You bastard!"
The man next to him stayed calm. "I'm listening," he said. "So you cut yourself off, huh!?"
Gulf smiled and poured the glass of brandy down his throat. No longer able to sit upright, he rested his head on the bar and continued to talk.
"I didn't really have anyone to cut ties with. I had already left home. When I went back, some stranger was living there instead of my family. Guess my old lady hooked up with some boyfriend and took off. My old man wasn't around either. Money troubles or something."
He screwed up his face. It had been a dark time, a past he didn't care to remember.
"He owed something like a million. No way could a kid pay that back. I tried to ignore the Yakuza who came to collect, but they just beat me up. Later they took me to their office. And from then on, their boss was my new dad. Only one other person tried to help me."
"Really? Who was that?" the stranger asked calmly.
He sounded like he came from a better class of people. Gulf was delighted to have such a patient listener. It felt cathartic to spill his guts this way.
"When I was messing around in the streets, I used to fight at the dry river bed. I probably fought several hundred people." Gulf continued.
True, he had been in a gang during school. But no way was that number correct. It was probably more like 20 people, but Gulf loved to embellish the facts.
"Once we wound up facing a huge crowd. These guys just wanted to beat the shit out of us. I ran into some factory while covered in blood. I tried to hide but this old guy saw me. The rival gang was beating of the shutters, yelling for me to come out. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I thought they'd burst in any second and beat me half to death, or even kill me, I figured I was a goner. In those days, it was kill or be killed. But the old man offered me a job if I left my gang. Promised to help me."
Gulf had always remembered the old man's words.
"He said I reminded him of his son. 'Is he a bad ass like me?' I asked. Then he dragged me to the family altar. His son had died in an accident. The old man looked at me with tears in his eyes. 'Do you want me to chase you outside? Or will you become an honest man?'"
"So? What did you choose?" the stranger asked.
Gulf rubbed his chin on the bar.
"I'd been beat up pretty badly," he said. "And I didn't wanna die like a loser. So I started wondering if I should get a real job. I actually felt kinda happy. It was the first time
someone had ever said stuff like that to me and actually meant it. That stubborn old man. So, yeah, I made him a promise. He chased away the thugs who were banging on the shutters and looked after me.""Sounds like you broke your promise," the stranger said in a teasing voice.
Even in his drunken state, Gulf noticed and looked up. Yakuza hated being made fun of more than anything. Disrespect isn't good for business.
"Shut up! I said I had a debt to pay!" he growled.
He suddenly looked around. He was in an unfamiliar, high-class club, sitting at one end of the dark stone bar. It was a small place, only four tables and a bar. The hostesses didn't even approach the two men.
He turned to squint at the stranger, who was still relaxing next to him. The stranger, who had a noble-looking nose, was an attractive man that even a man could fall for.
Have I met him before?
The stranger wore a fine British-made suit, different from typical Yakuza wear. His legs were crossed in an ostentatious way.
The man calmly returned Gulf's gaze. He didn't seem to be at all afraid of Yakuza, which made Gulf mad.
"You don't look like an honest man," the man commented.
The alcohol had made Gulf volatile.
"Are you making fun of me?!" he screamed. He grabbed the man's head and was about to slam it on the bar when an arm reached out to stop him
What?
Now he recognized the man's face. Only one person had ever been better than him. Only one person had ever made him taste bitter defeat. Only one person had beaten him in the regional school finals, 10 long years ago.
As soon as he realized who it was, Gulf felt acid rise from the pit of his stomach.
"You're Mew Suppasit!" he yelled.
TBC
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Sleeping With Money (MewGulf AU)
RomanceCOMPLETED Down on his luck, Yakuza member Gulf Kanawut needs to cough up eight million in two days---or else! His last hope is a loan from wealthy businessman Mew Suppasit. But Mew is using the debt for his own nefarious scheme---to have a tied-up G...