Tokyo Bay Riders: Cyberpunk Joyrider

3

Kabukichō never grew old to Akira.

Joe Black's was an hour away from opening, Akira had more than enough time to kill in the meantime. He'd been working all week, intercepting calls and informing small time offenders and big shot Yakuza alike about raids and new information that came his way. His wallet burned with cash and ears burned from words of praise from new and old clients.

He was dying for a drink was well, whiskey on his mind for once as he rode through the streets aimlessly. A call kept ringing through Tokyo's buzzing streets, Akira also couldn't keep ignoring her. It had been days since he'd last gone to see his dragon, the beast always laying low until after dark.

She'd never been a burden to him. Akira's grandmother in her last year of life had came home with her bundled in her bag, the older lady struggling to carry her groceries and an abandoned baby dragon. Akira had no clue what on earth was going on the day it happened- she'd walked back into their home as the usual happy and full of life little lady. Her bag was taken off her at the door by Akira, who'd been working on his laptop rather than out on the streets for once. Akira had been looking forward to cooking hotpot for them both, but Yoru had other plans.

"Yoru?!" Akira remembered yelling through the house, his grandmother waddling past him to pick up the baby dragon who'd completely demolished the meat she'd bought half an hour ago.

"Akira, you treat this baby as you do with me, with kindness and love"

Yoru- Japanese for night. It reflected her completely, the dragon blacker than the darkest night sky with piercing purple eyes. She was gorgeous, the prettiest dragon Akira had ever seen for sure. Most importantly she has also been independent- ever since his grandmother bought her home the dragon had been waited on hand and foot, but she'd never needed it. She never relied on being fed or watered, even when Akira and his grandmother offered it to her.

It was different when she was a baby, but when she was finally the size of a large dog with wings to match, the dragon acted ironically like a cat. Coming and going as she pleased, Akira's grandmother would open the doors to the balcony, letting Yoru fly away after night had fallen. By first morning light she'd been waitingbt the door, those purple eyes glowing through the dirtied glass. Akira would always let her in, himself only just returning from his nights working out. Both would find themselves crashed on his bed later that evening, his grandmother bust cooking food for both of them whether they wanted it or not.

Then there was the day Akira's Grandmother passed away.

Yoru was the size of a small horse by then, maybe bigger, but Akira's memory betrayed him. All he remembered from that day was waking up from his night out working over Shinjuku way, Yoru was fast asleep on the end of his bed. It was eerily quiet in the apartment, the sun just setting as his eyes adjusted to the growing darkness of the room. Something was up. No noise erupted from outside his door, no radio playing loudly and no smell of anything sizzling away on the stove.

Had grandma gone out? He'd remembered thinking it. Hoping.

Akira checked her room first, and he'd found her quicker than he'd liked. She lay in bed, just as she was the night before when Akira had poked his head around the door to whisper a good night. The difference this time was she was utterly still, completely white, the room stale and cold.

Yoru had came bounding in as his screams erupted from his lungs, as power surged through his veins, as the floor splintered where he kneeled on the floor next to her bed. Yoru had screamed with him, those purple eyes glowing fiercer than ever as the color seemed to flow all over her body.

His grandmother hadn't just stumbled upon a baby dragon that day she'd gone grocery shopping- deep in his heart Akira knew that somehow fate had played a card in Akira meeting Yoru. It had never crossed his mind, it was definitely unusual that a seemingly normal human had picked up a dragon on the streets of Tokyo, one of the biggest cities in the world.

Eight months ago, as Yoru and Akira lost the main female role model in their life, everything seemed to click into place. She'd always loved dragons, and in her youth had studied the art of magic and elemental powers. Akira had never seen her use it, but the way her plants always bloomed no matter the weather and earth seemed to cherish her, Akira knew she was special. After all, those who knew magic would never be harmed by their own kind of magic.

Akira didn't know the spells, but she knew he was worth more. That he'd learn.

Akira's grandmother had high hopes for him, and maybe she'd set him up for life, her final gift to compensate for not helping him sooner in life. For watching him being fed to the wolves.

Akira wouldn't find out. He'd avoided the DRA for eight months, for years previous. He wouldn't leave his arguably unstable job to hand himself into DRA hands either, no matter how nice the state prisons owned by DRA authorities were.

Another red light stopped Akira in his tracks, the calls from Yoru dying down the closer he got to her. She'd never been one for spending time with him at night, that never changed even now. If she did turn up in the day, usually to sleep on the end of his various hotel beds, she'd be gone by the evening. The only problem with Yoru now though is she was too big to try and smuggle into his tiny cramped rooms, the dragon bigger than a car and with an appetite to match. He didn't ponder on where she was finding food from, but Yoru was alive and ultimately that was all that mattered. Akira looked out for Yoru, and Yoru looked out for Akira.

12am rung through quicker than he'd expected, but Akira had been lost in thought for longer than he'd wanted. Memories teased him, picked on him, his helmet hiding the tears away from prying eyes. By the time Akira walked into the bar his face was red from the endless tears. Non lined his eyes, he'd be the talk of the place if people could see the tears actually falling, and he did have a reputation to uphold. But Chuck, oh Chuck knew the moment he laid eyes on Akira. A whiskey was poured silently, double, liquid gold.

"My boy, tell me what's the matter" Chuck didn't scream the words, but they were just loud enough for him to hear.

"It doesn't matter Chuck, just old news" Akira had laughed it off, drinking his whiskey like a shot and throwing the empty glass back at the bar man.

"How's the electrics Chuck?" As another Whiskey came his way Akira popped the question, Chuck laughing his way through it.

"Working perfectly now, thank you Akira" The male hadn't forgotten about the raid that happened earlier that week, he'd just forgotten to call in to ask Chuck personally how it went.

"The big boss wants to see you" Chuck had meant over the bar, Akira only rolled his eyes as he took another whiskey and downed it in one.

"I'll believe that when I see it..." Akira's voice trailed for once, a man three times the size of him stalked towards him from behind the bar, a smirk forming on his face.

"Mr Daido" Akira didn't know his last name, so addressing his first name with 'Mr' before it felt better considering he was the Yazuka in charge of this establishment. Daido only smirked wider, Chuck creeping away with an expression of 'good luck' written on his face.

"Satō, you've been such great help to me and my fine establishment as of late" Daido poured two whiskeys this time, the bar heaving but the man ignoring everyone but Akira.

"How would you like some extra work?" Daido didn't beat around the bush, and Akira liked this straightforwardness.

"I'm not looking to partner with Yakuza yet, don't take it too personally Mr Daido" Akira also liked being straightforward, and Daido equally enjoyed seeing this side to Akira. He didn't know him on a more personal level like Chuck did, but he valued the custom and services the young man provided.

"If you ever change your mind, don't hesitate, you know that Akira?" A hand placed itself on his arm, Daido smiled almost sinisterly at Akira as the male necked his third and final whiskey for the night.

"I'll see you next week Daido" Akira knew when it was his cue to leave, and hanging around in a Yakuza den after a denied deal didn't appeal at all to him. Not today anyway, not already being off with the memories of times past still lingering in his mind. He was vulnerable tonight, he knew that all too well. The fact he was also carrying so much cash on his person wasn't ideal, the bar the busiest he'd seen it all month. Daido was gone quicker than the wind, and Akira didn't hang around to say goodnight to Chuck.

He needed a bank, even if it was 12am.

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chapter 3, end.
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