Haiiro no Ginka’s faded sign obscured under the setting sun. The owner turned on the lights of his store. He placed the standing sign in its place outside the sliding door. He shuffled back quickly into the store as the chilly breeze nipped the back of his neck.
Back in the kitchen, the owner wiped down his workspace counters. His fresh ingredients for the day were already nicely prepped for the evening. The boiling pork bone stock was simmering away on the stove. Today’s special features ramen seared pork belly pieces, crunchy bamboo shoots, and a handful of sweet scallions. He had a good shipment of chicken today. Kara-age will be a special menu add-on for the night.
A figure peered through the glass window. The door slip open and shut with a loud click.
“Irasshaimase!” welcomed the owner.
The familiar customer took the seat in the furthest table. Tonight he will be expecting three more of his friends. The owner fired up his grill and waited. Sure enough, the three customers walked in and joined at the furthest table.
Fumiko, the waitress, took their orders and relayed them to the owner. The owner quickly chopped the eggplant into large pieces. He placed them over the grill and painted them in a miso glaze. Next, he took the marinated chicken pieces and dunked them into the hot oil. The bubbling oil sizzled the meat. Meanwhile the kara-age was frying, the owner prepared the dipping sauce. In a small glass bowl, he whisked together mayonnaise, two pinches of red chili flakes, minced ginger, and a teaspoon of freshly squeezed lemon juice.
While immersed in his work, the owner heard snippets of the conversation in his restaurant. The four men were heated over a debate of some sort.
“Why are you even bringing this up now of all times! We should be focused on the immediate problem in front of us!”
“I am!” said the wavy haired customer.
“Did you really think that running away will save the rest of us? Even if it did, it’s only temporary,” said the dark haired man angrily.
He folded his arms and leaned back in his seat.
“I know it’s temporary, but people around us are getting hurt and we have no way of explaining it. Even the cops are pinning us for something we didn’t do.”
“What about you? What do you think?” said the second dark haired man elbowing his ashy haired friend.
“I just think it’ll make things worse if we’re unprepared. We’ll be cut off from contact. I don’t think you’re telling us to leave on a whim.”
“Exactly. I’m not telling all of us to leave on a whim,” said the wavy haired man.
“Then what the hell are we doing?” complained the dark haired man.
“To others, we’ll say it’s a trip to get our minds off of things. I’ll even use healing as an excuse given that everyone has a pretty good idea what’s been going on with our lives.”
“You think? Those tabloids caught a hold of nearly everything and spreading crazy stuff like the plague.”
“Hey, just let him finish. You have a plan right, Leader?”
He exhaled out slowly.
“It is a plan of some sorts. I’m sick and tired of being stuck in defense mode and it’s about time we strike back. My intention is to use this trip to draw him out. I know for sure that he somehow has a way of finding out exactly where we are.”
“We’re going up against a pro right here.”
“I gotta agree, we’re just musicians. I can only play bass.”
“But we managed to fend for ourselves each time. Great, why am I the one to start giving motivational pep talk.”
“Let’s just say hypothetically we successfully lure the guy out, what are we going to do? Call the police?”
“We are four people ... no, we actually we are five people against one guy. I’d like to see what he plans if all five of us tries to take him on at the same time.”
The food were arranged neatly on the glazed plates. The owner put his finishing touches before handing them to Fumiko. He watched as the plates ended up in front of the customers. They continued to argue despite Fumiko standing beside them. What an odd group, he thought. If you want to squabble, don’t do it over the food I prepared for you. Or perhaps it is best to talk everything over food.
The three men continued to argue loudly, while the ashy blonde silently immersed himself with tea. He had no interest in the conversation and looked aloofly at the wall. The owner turned up the volume of the tiny television located in the corner of his store. It was already strange to have a television in the first place as no izakaya carried televisions or even radios in their shop. He couldn’t decide in the past whether his shop should have been a full-on bar for listless old men or a cozy eatery for fortuitous customers.
It didn’t matter in the end. The owner could make his shop anything he’d like because he had such little customers to begin with. Every time these four customers appeared, it was definite that no one else would enter shop there on afterwards. For a business owner, they were bad luck.
Peering over the work table, the owner glanced over at his customers. They stopped talking and started eating. It looks like his food was working its charm. No one can resist deep fried kara-age. He pridefully continued his work. It was then that an odd silence swept through the group.
The sudden change piqued the owner’s interest. He noticed that everyone’s eyes were peeled on the television.
“... has been found dead in the streets. Police have narrowed down FBI’s most wanted, Stephen Mavros, as the main suspect. CCTV footage shows Mavros entering the ...”
“Damn it. He is preying on innocent people,” said the wavy haired guest. “At this point, everyone around us is getting wrapped up into our mess.”
“Is this why you requested to our manager a short vacation? To get him away from others and have him focus on us instead?” said the dark haired man.
“Indeed. I want us to go somewhere far. Somewhere he can’t exert his influence as strongly as he would like.”
“I think I have a good idea where,” said the ashy blonde.
The four huddled closer to the center of the table and whispered. The owner couldn’t catch a single word at this point and returned to his duty as a cook. He had a fish to fry for these customers. Even as a cook, he was a bit too prying in their affairs.
“So it’s been decided. We will settle for that place,” announced the wavy haired one.
Arms folded, the dark haired guest nodded his head. The other dark haired one spoke up.
“You think we have enough leverage over him? I still need to remind all of us that we are just musicians.”
“We are edgy musicians. I got slammed on a wall and still lived.”
“I need him to pay back all my lost sleep.”
The party stood up and exited the small izakaya. Fumiko cleared the tables. The owner rattled his brains over his guests’ conversation. The contents made very little sense, as usual.
“Fumiko, do you know what our guests are up to?”
“I can’t say I’m sure. Each time they come in, they seem to have some sort of problem,” replied Fumiko. “It looks like we won’t be seeing them for a while.”
“Whatever it is, I hope luck is on their side.”
*****
BGM: Sa Bir by Dir en grey
I purposely tried a different style of writing for this chapter. It can be pretty hard to tell who is speaking, but I left some clues in their speech. If you enjoyed this this chapter, leave a comment.
