Chapter 59

Under the shade of the trees, Lev and the Pianist were blowing smoke rings together.

Smoking was not permitted around the children, so the elegantly composed and widely popular Pianist had stepped outside as well.

Hearing a faint commotion, Lev looked up toward the direction of Takizawa Sei’s room. "Did something happen in there?"

"Don't ask, I've no idea, and I'm not curious."

The Pianist lowered his gaze, refusing to cast even a sideways glance in that direction. "If you're desperately eager to pry into the boss's past, you can go check it out right now."

Lev muttered, "…I'm not tactless to that degree."

He sighed and blew a bored ring of smoke into the empty air. "Do you know anything about Mr. Takizawa?"

"Don't ask, I've no idea, and I'm not curious."

"Surely there's no harm in just chatting about some unimportant trivialities from the past," Lev complained. "He himself doesn't seem to resist recalling them at all."

"Do you think Takizawa has such a cheerful personality that nothing can ever break him?"

Lev actually felt like rolling his eyes. "I know, I know. Everyone has an unknown other side, right?"

"His other side isn't just about a contrast in personality… After he entered the Port Mafia, Nakahara—who was brought into the organization at the same time—used to frantically search for his own origins, dragging Takizawa along with him."

"Hah," Lev sighed in wonder. "I know. Arakhabaki, the God of Aral. Back then, there were constant rumors that Lord Nakahara wasn't human. Whenever anyone brought that up in front of him, regardless of whether their rank was higher than his, he would fly into a rage and teach them a lesson."

"So, you see…" The Pianist reminisced about the scenes of a few years ago. Back then, before anything had happened, everyone was still green and innocent; even just imagining it brought a fond, involuntary smile to one's lips, as if returning to a time coated in the warm filter of memory. "His past is a secret, and also the source of his pain."

Wasn't that just saying a whole lot of nothing?

Lev inwardly slandered, "My past is the source of my pain too."

"But at least you haven't forgotten your past. Nakahara has no memories before the age of eight, and neither does Takizawa—his memories begin in the Surabaya Labyrinth."

And it was connected to the military base explosion. Lev supported his forehead. "How many years ago was that?"

"So you see, no matter how many years pass, people will still be tied to it, as long as those individuals aren't all dead." The Pianist chuckled softly. "Anyway, the events of those years involved massive issues that haven't been resolved even to this day. However, I do know a few esoteric secrets—just a tiny fraction, but enough to shock you."

Lev picked at his ear indifferently. "What kind of sights haven't I seen?"

"There has always been a rumor that our former boss used to be a battlefield medic."

Lev looked at the Pianist, a trace of intense focus entering his gaze.

The young man held a cigarette between his slender fingers, letting the greater part of it burn away without taking more than a couple of puffs. "He once proposed a daring plan, but that plan failed. Shortly after the failure, Takizawa appeared in the Surabaya Labyrinth, and the interesting thing is that Takizawa, despite his amnesia, has always been missing someone."

"Missing someone?"

"Nakahara told me. He said Takizawa would often sit in high places at night—the tops of shipping containers, the rooftops of commercial buildings, anywhere high up, quiet, and windy where no one else goes—and sit there for at least half an hour at a time, as if pondering the meaning of life. When others asked him about it, Takizawa would only say: 'I'm organizing the first half of my life.'"

"Listen to that, just listen. What literary phrasing, so completely out of sync with us. So Takizawa must be a person of delicate emotions. When all is said and done, if he weren't so considerate, the boss certainly wouldn't have accepted him."

"Oh… so the person he's missing, is that the former boss?"

Lev thought for a moment, then suddenly widened his eyes. "Wait, the ages don't match."

His thoughts drifted off into strange directions. "Mr. Takizawa was only in his teens back then, right? Didn't our former boss only like little girls?"

The Pianist: "…"

His smile froze on his face. "Sometimes I really don't know whether you're doing this on purpose or if you're genuinely just that dense. You always come up with ideas that give people cerebral infarctions."

This time, Lev genuinely rolled his eyes, deeply expressing his disdain for the bosses' pasts. "According to what you're saying, they're the classic example of the new flame and the old favorite. Since you only know a tiny bit, how could it not invite wild imagination?"

Amidst the idle chatter, a familiar, muffled roar grew closer from afar. The Pianist’s expression shifted slightly, and he stood up in delighted surprise. "That's the engine sound of Nakahara's motorcycle! Nakahara's here!"

Lev stepped aside. "Do you need me to leave you two some private space?"

"Stop joking around. We don't have that kind of mushy relationship." A smile lingered on the Pianist's lips. "That kind of dynamic is reserved for the boss and Mr. Takizawa."

Ha, aren't you the one who was just making jokes about the boss and Mr. Takizawa?

Lev ruthlessly mocked him in his heart, right up until the engine's roar ceased. Someone parked their pink motorcycle right outside the gate, and finding the orphanage doors locked tight, simply leaped straight over the wall. His movements were so light, carrying an eerie, suspended-in-air quality.

"Nakahara!" The Pianist raised a hand in greeting. "Look at you, all high-spirited. Did you get into a fight with someone?"

He was asking a question he already knew the answer to, having listened to the live-action version when Nakahara had been sent to cause trouble for the military police.

Nakahara Chuuya swept his reddish-brown hair back with a refreshed expression, radiating a rebellious and arrogant demeanor. "Guess right. I thoroughly taught some swaggering bastard a lesson. I guarantee he won't be able to get out of bed for three months—though with that monster-like physical endurance, the other side probably has top-tier medical treatments available, but whatever. My goal wasn't that anyway."

A cold, sharp light glinted in the youth's eyes. "I just wanted to make him hurt."

The Pianist smiled non-committally. Listening from the side, Lev suddenly perked up. "What? Is it what I'm thinking, Lord Nakahara? You thoroughly beat up the military police who blocked our car?" He clapped in applause, his laughter ringing out bright and boisterous, until a warning glare from the Pianist reminded him to tone down the noise so as not to frighten the children. "Mr. Takizawa will definitely thank you properly. You have no idea how miserable he looked when he was pinned to the ground, and how crazy the way he got free was. Even though I could pull it off myself, I can't help but admire lunatics who don't fear pain."

Nakahara Chuuya's expression paused slightly. "Pinned to the ground?"

"Yeah, that freely retractable blade went right through here—" Lev pointed just below his own shoulder. "Pierced right through."

He said with the excited tone of someone unearthing a secret, "Mr. Takizawa was furious. He pulled out his ultimate weapon against the military police: a medal."

"…"

After a brief, stagnant silence, Nakahara Chuuya clicked his tongue.

"Just imagining it is enough to know how pissed Sei was. Damn it, I should've given that punk a few more hits earlier and made him crawl back on the ground."

"Crash!"

From inside the house came the sound of something shattering, like a vase.

"What's going on upstairs?"

The Pianist shrugged. "As you can see, they're fighting."

"Hah? Who and who?"

"Naturally, the boss and Mr. Takizawa."

Chuuya wore an expression that asked if he was being played with.

"Don't look at me like that. They're human too; how can humans avoid emotional conflicts?"

"Sei doesn't just randomly fight with people," Nakahara Chuuya said. "And certainly not with such a helpless way of venting. The last time I remember him being that angry was when Shirase stabbed me."

Back then, Takizawa Sei had practically transformed into an evil dragon. Saying he was so angry he cursed up a storm was an understatement; his handsome facial features had practically contorted.

It was also then that Nakahara Chuuya realized just how deeply that man hated betrayal.

"I'll go check on him. You guys keep chatting."

Familiar with the layout, Chuuya pushed open the door and stepped into the villa, immediately greeted by the fearful and unwelcoming gazes of the children. He had been the one to take Takizawa Sei away last time, and had even been loudly exposed by Yuta for his mafia identity. Naturally, he wouldn't win the children's affection this time either.

In fact, one child even let out a cold huff at Chuuya, which was probably the most offensive attack they could muster.

Nakahara Chuuya chuckled softly. "Stinky brats."

He headed upstairs unbothered. At the end of the hallway, Yuta was waiting for him, the boy's face clouded with worry as he blocked his path.

"What? Don't want me to see your Brother Sei?"

"No…" Yuta muttered quietly. "Brother Sei is really unhappy right now. I just heard shouting coming from his room, so… could you please go comfort Brother Sei?" As if ashamed of what he was saying, Yuta didn't dare raise his head. "We know so little about Brother Sei's past. Only friends like you have the right to."

Nakahara Chuuya patted the boy's head. "Don't overthink it. Your Brother Sei isn't the type to stay down after a blow."

Even so, what could possibly be the reason for them to fight?

Carrying a slightly heavy heart, he walked up to Takizawa Sei's room and pushed the door open to find Takizawa Sei half-kneeling on the floor.

The green-eyed youth was carefully picking up the shards of a shattered vase. The rest of the room was neat and orderly, meaning this vase had likely been broken by accident.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, he raised his gaze to look over.

Chuuya paused. "What are you…?"

"I was planning to take it outside to catch some sun, but I accidentally dropped it."

"No, I don't mean that." The reddish-brown-haired youth took a few quick strides over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your complexion is way too terrible. Anyone who didn't know better would think you'd been locked in solitary confinement for three months."

"Maybe it's just blood loss?"

"You look completely devoid of life." Nakahara Chuuya thought for a moment, resisting his disgust as he used a more vivid description. "You look just like that half-dead mackerel."

Takizawa Sei pressed his lips tightly together.

He tossed the collected shards into the wastebasket, his red-rimmed eyes wide as he said in a deep voice, "I'm asking you, Chuuya."

The unusual seriousness in his tone made Chuuya tense up. "Go ahead."

"Does my return cause you pain?"

"Of course not," he said decisively. "Did Dazai say something to you, or did he say nothing at all? If you're feeling uneasy, listen to me."

The reddish-brown-haired youth stared fixedly into those green eyes. "If there's any way to bring you peace of mind, I can give you everything I have."

The sixteen-year-old Nakahara Chuuya had close friends, companions, and family.