Little Do You Know

Eclipse

It was not a lone day, but a day without emotion. The clouds above had blurred overhead, merged into a mess of grey and black that could rival any child's careless finger painting, much more a piece of modern art.
The people in the streets were sullen and obtuse, their shoulders sagged in defeat. Blinded by black and grey, they had slipped into the trap known as routine, unbeknownst to their consciousness.

If one had looked upwards at this moment, they would have observed a young man, arguably the most discoloured person in the setting. He was in his late twenties, the rancid odour that pestered him serving as a reminder of his constant drinking problems. The taste of cigarettes was still fresh in his mouth, and he chewed on the end of one absentmindedly. Although it was early evening, the man in question had already come to watch the city below.
Kaoru's life was a whirl of addiction and rejection. Having inherited a position among the Yakuza, his entire outlook on life had changed. He was and could no longer be normal - at least in the true definition of the word. No longer assimilated into everyday culture, he was the jagged rock that jutted from a pile of pebbles. The nightclubs, properties and estates his father had left him no longer required his control, but instead were managed by a team of mafia men whose identities he did not know, nor did he wish to.
For his own sake, he had been married off to a girl he didn't know, and dragged off to a place he didn't want to be. Licking his lips, his fingers dipped down as he jabbed the cigarette down sharply into the ashtray. He hated this life - it did have its upsides, given the wealth he was left with, but it didn't do him any good. The drugs he took and cigarettes he smoked did little to smother the pain. It had been confusing - how could he not enjoy such a life of luxury? Yet he was provided with all the perks those with power had to offer; no, this life was cold and bitter. He needed the warmth of a normal life, the life he led before his father died.

Heart aching, he turned and walked back inside his hotel room. Kaoru had been flown from a coastal resort to a high rise hotel, for a reason he knew not. His father had been a particularly influential man at what he did, as his mother had cared to remind him a number of times. A crook, no; the very best of crooks, the man you'd go to if you had everything to lose. The legacy he left behind was unsatisfied, and much was expected from him. Yet he didn't have anything to give them; his hands clenched as he undid the belt of his bathrobe, shaking as he removed them.

A sigh of relief could be heard as the hot water claimed him in an embrace. Leaving behind his old life had meant leaving behind Christopher. It was the most difficult decision he'd made, indeed; he still sometimes caught himself wondering if he was still there by the little coffee restaurant, standing there waiting for him. His heart threatened to burst at the thought, so he ceased pondering and enjoyed the summer rain that seeped from the showerhead.

What was his purpose really? It was doubtful that he would be of any significance even in the mafia, let alone society itself. Just one out of seven billion, nothing to offer and nothing to prove. He shuddered despite the heat, a new wave of nausea and anxiety vying to assault him. There was nobody he could truly call friend. In this world, a man like himself could never make friendships, only alliances. But what were alliances but coldly spoken words and a shaking of hands?

Kaoru screamed through the rush of water, silently hopeful that someone, somewhere would hear him. The thought was gone as fast as it came, his rational mind showing no mercy as it paced its blows. One fateful day, his life would end by the means of another. When that day came, he would realise how much of an empty life he had led, split seconds from darkness. This was the path he had chosen, so rather it was his own doing. Inexplicable pain rushed at him, a culmination of heartache, alcohol and nicotine.
When the rush of water ceased, so did the pounding in his head. He did suppose that normal people would be hungry now, right at this hour, and so a hesitant hand reached to ring for dinner. One would have waited an instant for the food to appear; a trolley wheeled in by two women, room management perhaps. He did not care for the identities of the people around him; to him, everyone was the same. Beings too caught up in their own existence, a nuisance to the progression of society. As there were no morals, no good or evil; he had reached that conclusion many times before. The sense of accomplishment alone fulfilled his wishes, but he had no intention of allowing it to remain that way.

The plates slowly emptied, and the women left soon after, addressing him with a bow before they departed. He didn't spare a look for any of them. His eyes rested on the ceiling of his room, arms folded back against his head. Tomorrow, he would be lied to, fed, clothed and cleaned. The day after would be very much the same. Kaoru really was pathetic. He was willing to leave this, life in any way he could, however much grief it would cause him, but the consequences themselves were too much to bear. Helpless, he could be bent and twisted at a whim, a poor jest at contemporary living. The first day of his joke of a life, depression had eaten away at him despite his nonchalance. There had been few other moments in his life where he has suffered like this, and all those times he had Christopher there for him.

Christopher. Even the word's mention lashed out at him. Heartache alone wasn't enough to describe what he felt at the mere thought of his name. No, rather an unrelenting fist that crushed his heart, each and every day. His face, his kind words, the flutter of his eyelashes whenever he smiled. The memories themselves were so distant - he berated himself daily for it. Life, as it used to be, juxtaposed this one almost to the point of humour. If only his father he had lived, he wanted to shout to those around him. Just hang on there a day or two longer-

"Kaoru?"

He blinked, sitting up immediately. The door was open halfway, casting a flood of light into his room. Rubbing his eyes, blinking again, he wondered why he hadn't thought to turn the lights on. But then again he had been too preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"They're having a toast to having you here as the new guy. It's not everyday that happens, you know, especially at a hotel like this."

Kaoru managed a weak smile. His wife had left him alone most days, and he was grateful for it. Whilst he enjoyed Misa's company, he would rather spend his time by himself, victim to his own mind.

"Tell them I'll be coming down soon."

Rummaging through his wardrobe, attempting to look somewhat decent, he dressed himself in a rather awkward manner. No matter, he dismissed. It was doubtful his appearance would raise any brows. As he descended, the scent of slowly cooked meat tempted him greatly. Perhaps boredom wouldn't be a major component of tonight's dinner. The mere thought of a literal dine with criminals may have been laughable, but here he was now, about to be apprehended by those who he dined with.

"Ah, Kaoru. Please do make yourself comfortable."

The main dining room had been booked for tonight, for what he could tell, specifically for the purpose. It both annoyed and embarrassed him that they would go to such measures. What few men had gathered for the toast were dressed in the usual black suits, wearing varying degrees of uncertainty and tension. The man who had spoken was the Yakuza's henchman, a guard that could both fight and infiltrate. It left little to the imagination of what this man had dealt with, and Kaoru decided not to push it. His position was small but pivotal, a formidable man in a formidable job.

"Thank you for inviting me here tonight, Jon. I fear I may have burdened you with my presence, however."

His words were curt, clipped and spoken with little emotion. Whether it was viewed as disinterest he did not care - he wished of nothing right now but to leave in due time.

"Congratulations on the position, nonetheless. Tonight may be a toast, but we have other things to discuss also."

Kaoru nodded, barring away the shadow of a frown that flit past his face. More complications was exactly what he needed. With his luck, he would return home without the usual charade of freedom. They seemed to believe he was lamenting his lowly ranks - no, what he did lament was his own standing within the Yakuza. He enjoyed himself that night, but failed still to shrug off the feelings of slow, sinking sadness. It was only when midnight struck did his idleness come to an end.

"Kaoru, we'd like to invite you to join us. You see, there's a different type of entertainment planned for tonight."