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Red, angry static grows louder in Nishiki. His hands tighten into fists. Embarrassment crashes into him like a tsunami, but this time, all it does is feed the static. He’s tried to be the bigger person, tried so hard to make his men respect him. But even though his hard work was apparently enough to earn him a family of his own, even if it’s just to be a placeholder until Kiryu comes back, here, it’s not enough. It’s never enough . Lately, he’s been wondering whether that’s really his fault though. If only his men weren’t so disobedient, so disgusting… Nishiki is familiar with how to run a family. He’s assisted Kashiwagi enough to know that he can run a family. Not like this, not with all the disrespect. But without… Nishiki thought he’d earn their respect soon enough. But Matsushige keeps butting heads, humiliating him in a way that he can’t fight back if he wants to be the bigger person. All his efforts to earn respect are being annihilated by one greasy man with an ego so big it dwarfs the fucking sun.
“I dare you to repeat that.”, Nishiki barely hears himself say over the static. His voice shakes, both from tears threatening to rise up and from fury so intense it feels like it’s the only thing present in his heart.
Nishiki wonders if he makes an example out of Matsushige… will things get better? He didn’t want to rule through violence and terror… but they don’t leave him much choice, do they? Under a bigshot patriarch… why, bastards like Matsushige would have already lost their heads. Fingers are sent rolling for far less. At this rate… Matsushige owes him quite a few fingers, doesn’t he?
Matsushige is oblivious to the way Nishiki is splintering and shattering, devolving into sharp edges. Either that, or he doesn’t care. Doesn’t think Nishiki could do anything to him.
“I said,” Matsushige starts, drawing out the words, relishing in tormenting Nishiki. “That you only got here by sucking cock, boss-man .”
There’s snickers, but Nishiki pays them little mind. They’re in the office, in front of all of his men. The perfect place for an example. News will spread to all those absent. It will only be a pity that the paperwork will get all bloodied up.
Matsushige draws closer, looking down on him. His breath stinks.
“What, are you gonna do something about it?” Matsushige taunts, laughing.
The static fades to crystal clear clarity. It’s like time slows down. Nishiki’s hand darts out, slamming into Matsushige’s face so hard he hears his nose crack. He grabs Matsushige’s hair to the point it almost rips out, steps to his side and puts all his body weight into slamming Matsushige's head into a desk. Blood splatters where Matsushige’s head impacts. Matsushige screams. The man sitting at the desk falls backwards in shock. The desk breaks. Part of Nishiki gleams, ecstatic at the violence. People scream in surprise.
“You!” Matsushige shouts, getting back up on his feet. Nishiki notes the blood dripping from his nose with vicious satisfaction. “You think you’re going to get away with this?!”
Matsushige rushes him. It’s child’s play to evade and trip him, making him crash into another desk.
“Haw… is that it?”, Nishiki taunts. “And you brag about being my best earner? How cute.”
“I’ll kill you!” Matsushige screams and runs at him again. Nishiki isn’t fool enough to try the same strategy twice. Instead, he remembers his martial arts lessons and stands his ground, grabbing the attacking arm and pulling, using the momentum to throw Matsushige over his head. People do really tend to forget that while Nishiki isn’t Kiryu, doesn’t have his kyodai’s insane talent, he did go to the same lessons as Kiryu did. And although Matsushige is quite good although brutish and without much technique, Nishiki is better than him. Still, Matsushige knows how to fall so as not to get all the air knocked out of him. Before he can get up again, Nishiki borrows a move he’s seen Majima execute and, with a no-handed cartwheel, builds up serious momentum to smash his knee into Matsushige’s chest.
Matsushige spits blood. Nishiki might have broken a few ribs.
He reaches down and grabs Matsushige by the collar, slamming him on top of a desk. Out of his suit pocket, he pulls his knife. Nishiki secures Matsushige’s arm and rests the sharp edge against his middle finger.
“You know…” Nishiki drawls. “You should really be grateful to me. Others would demand your head in retribution. I won’t kill you though. Let’s see… for all that you’ve done, you don’t have enough fingers to pay for. But I’ll be generous. Three fingers shall do.”
Matsushige tries to squirm away, wheezing wetly and painfully. Nishiki doesn’t let him. With a sadistic grin, he presses down. Blood splatters all over his face. This time, he almost relishes it. Nishiki pulls back, laughing as he slicks his hair back with Matsushige’s blood. He sounds insane even to his ears. Heck, Nishiki is pretty sure he is insane.
“This is the price of insubordination.” he announces to the room, then slams his knife into Matsushige’s shoulder until it goes through the desk, pinning him.
Matsushige cries at the pain. Before he passes out, Nishiki looks him in the eye and smirks. “The Yakuza has no use for men who can’t follow orders. You’re exiled. If you’re not gone by the time I come back, there’ll be hell to pay.”
Nishiki gathers up the fingers in some pocket tissue and makes for the door. His pale, terrified subordinates fall over themselves trying to get out of his way. Nishiki stops at the door and looks back, fixing the room with an icy glare. “Anyone who helps him will share his fate. And I will know .”
Then, he grabs his coat and dramatically exits the building, slamming the door shut. He’s got places to be.
First, Nishiki visits the hospital. He doesn’t bother changing his suit and washing the blood away. At least for today, he’s done hiding. He doesn’t bother taking off his family pin either. He's a yakuza, extortion is always on the table. And since he just sacked his best earner, the only way to get Yuko’s heart transplant is to make it clear to the doctor what will happen to him and his family if he doesn’t get everything sorted.
“Hiyoshi-sensei” Nishiki greets him and watches with glee as the doctor rapidly pales and starts trembling at the sight of Nishiki covered in blood, proudly donning the Nishikiyama pin. He doesn’t know if Hiyoshi didn’t know Nishiki was a yakuza or if he didn’t know just what the implications of that are.
“Nishikiyama-san!”, the doctor stutters, looking like he’s about to faint.
“Maa, why are you so scared, sensei?” Nishiki teases maliciously, slinging an arm around the smaller man to pull him closer. “Sensei, do you remember a few years ago, when the Yakuza were all over the city looking for someone?” he chirps. The doctor nods. His voice drops, both in tone and volume, whispering menacingly with an icy glare. “Well, let’s just say… things will look a lot worse for you than that if you don’t save my sister. I will personally hunt you down to the end of the world. I will make your life a living hell, make you watch everyone you love suffer and die in front of you. So you better get Yuko that heart transplant, sensei. Without the thirty million. Got it?”
The doctor lets out a pitiful whine. “O- of course! I will do anything, Nishikiyama-sama!”
Nishiki lets go of the doctor, brushing imaginary dirt off of his suit and smiles. It’s not a pretty smile. “See to it that you do, sensei.”
Nishiki leaves. He can’t visit Yuko all covered in blood after all. In the door, he stops. Once again.
“By the way, sensei.” he says without turning around. “You’ve got blood on your coat.”
The next stop is the Kazama Family office. He has a matter to rectify, after all. As soon as he enters, he sees one of Kiryu’s friends - Shinji, he thinks - give him a mind-boggled lookover.
“Nishikiyama-san?!”, Shinji exclaims.
“Shinji. Is Kashiwagi-san in?”
Shinji nods, still stupefied at Nishiki’s appearance. “Y-yes!” he stutters. “I’ll bring you to him! So, Nishikiyama-san, how come you…?” Shinji gestures at the blood as they walk. To his credit, he doesn’t seem particularly horrified.
“Just took care of some family matters, that's all.”, Nishiki replies nonchalantly and doesn’t try to keep the conversation going.
Shinji just stutters, apparently unsure of what else to say as they climb the stairs, passing staring office yakuza. Normally, Nishiki would make some small talk, but right now, he doesn’t care about how uncomfortable he makes others. In fact, a small part of him enjoys the feeling of power it gives him.
They arrive at Kashiwagi’s office and Nishiki nods at Shinji, preparing to go in.
“Uh- by the way, Nishikiyama-san” Shinji stutters, face red “You look really hot like this, okay bye!” and runs off.
Nishiki is left staring after him in bewilderment, eyes wide, feeling slightly off-kilter. Nishiki, the casanova of Kamurocho, would have dealt with this no problem. But Nishiki hadn’t been that in a while, and in this unhinged and serious mood of his, he has no idea how to respond to that. Luckily, he doesn’t have to, since Shinji ran off. Hm… flirting and flustering people gives you power, too. He used to be really into that, seeing men, women and enbies go red and start stuttering all because of a few choice words and gestures. Maybe he’ll go out and do that again at some point.
Shaking those thoughts away, he knocks. After a moment, Kashiwagi allows him to enter. Nishiki closes the door behind him. At the sound, Kashiwagi looks up and in a rare show of expression, his eyes widen.
“Nishikiyama?”
Nishiki bows. “Kashiwagi-san. A while ago, one of my men infringed on Kazama turf, fully knowing what he was doing.” Pulling out Matsushige’s fingers and unfurling the white tissues stained red, he presents them to Kashiwagi. “I have come to inform you that I have rectified the matter.” Looking Kashiwagi in the eyes with a steely resolution, he adds, “It will not happen again.”
He bows again and turns to leave, but Kashiwagi stops him. His brows are furrowed.
“One of your men? He didn’t do it on your orders?”
Nishiki grits his teeth. His eyebrows draw tighter. For people who don’t know him to assume him to be incompetent is fine. They’re just stupid. But for Kashiwagi, who’s known him since he was a child, to think that Nishiki actually either accidentally committed such a stupid mistake or intentionally sought to sabotage his own position in the clan… it’s grating and disrespectful. A bitter voice in him whispers, “If it had been Kiryu, he would have immediately given him the benefit of the doubt. He would have actually asked questions. He wouldn’t have smacked him around.”
“Of course he didn’t do it on my orders.” Nishiki snaps and realising that probably went a bit too far, adds, “Kashiwagi-san.” Kashiwagi’s frown deepens. “I was in need of a large amount of money and I instructed Matsushige to acquire it no matter what. He chose to take that literally.”
“To cut off three of his fingers over a misunderstanding is a bit extreme.”
“It was not a misunderstanding!”, Nishiki hisses. “Matsushige was one of your men. He knew exactly what he was doing and he knew exactly how it would negatively impact me. Also, infringing on Kazama territory was just one of his many misdeeds.”
“Still, three fingers? You’re turning into Shimano.”, Kashiwagi remarks, disdain apparent in his voice.
Nishiki draws up, spine ramrod stiff. “Am I or am I not the patriarch of my own family?!”, he snaps. “You don’t get to tell me how to handle my men. Now if you will excuse me, I’ve done what I came to do.”
Nishiki leaves and Kashiwagi lets him go. Nishiki feels like crying. The man who’d been a father figure to him… doesn’t know him at all. He doesn’t know why he hoped that handing over the fingers would fix anything. He’s never been anyone’s favourite, after all. Not Kazama’s. Not Kashiwagi’s. The second his usefulness ran out, he was dropped like hot shit. Nishiki holds in his tears. He won’t cry for someone that wouldn’t lift a finger for him. All there’s left for him is to forge his own path. And he will. He doesn’t care how many fingers it takes. As long as he still has Yuko, there’s something worth living for.
Stepping back in the Nishikiyama family office after the events that transpired today feels dizzying. It’s 23:57 and no one’s still there, a fact Nishiki is very glad for as he slumps against the office door. He’s exhausted to his bones.
The broken desk is gone. His men have clearly made some effort to clean the office up. The desk he’d stabbed Matsushige on is still there, with nothing on it and no chair in front of it. The blood has been wiped up but stains remain.
Nishiki sighs heavily, letting his head bump backwards against the wall. He’s got a headache and he’s somewhat drunk. After he’d gone to his apartment to take a shower, he’d hit up almost every bar near him in an attempt to… forget? Calm down, maybe? He’d resisted getting shitfaced only because he wanted to be sober enough to be able to deal with Matsushige potentially still pinned to the table. Him being gone is a huge relief. He’ll have to interrogate someone on whether he was helped tomorrow, but even if so, he might not even do anything about it.
Nishiki raises his hand in front of his face, expecting to still find blood on it. He doesn’t, of course, he’s always very thorough when he showers, unlike Kiryu, who doesn’t even use body lotion.
“What am I doing?” he whispers to himself, voice wobbly and eyes tearing up. Once he’d said that becoming a patriarch is every yakuza’s dream. Now, he isn’t so sure. Being a patriarch has caused him nothing but pain. He cracked that night, when killing Dojima, but being a patriarch broke him.
Would Kiryu still recognise the person Nishiki is now? The person he can become? Would Kiryu still be willing to be his kyodai? Kiryu had given their brotherhood up for less before. It had been Nishiki who’d clung to it, who’d insisted that they were still brothers till death do them part . Because it’s Nishiki who is nothing without Kiryu. And now, Nishiki has to live without him. And it’s all Nishiki’s fault.
Nishiki breathes in shakily and wipes his tears away. He walks towards his office, shoes clacking on the floor, the only noise apart from the humming of the lights and the ticking of the clock to accompany him. It feels eerie. It feels lonely. He wishes that Yuko were here, to talk his ear off on whatever new hyperfixation she has. He wishes that Kiryu were here, for them to quietly hum Judgement together the way they would years ago when they were underlings cleaning the Kazama Family Office.
His office is untouched. He doesn’t know what he expected. Nishiki hesitates in the door for a moment before locking it. He did what he came here to do: check on if Matsushige was still there. Now, all he wants to do is go home and sleep. The next day, he’ll have to show his Family that he will no longer hold back and tolerate insubordination and sloppiness. He’s tried the nice way, now, he’s going to terrify them into obedience. Majima did it too, and his family turned out fine, so why wouldn’t it work for Nishiki?
At home, he grabs the picture frame with the photograph of Kazama, Kiryu and Nishiki. Angry, he is tempted to cut Kazama out of the picture but settles for covering his face with a piece of paper. Looking at the two of them so young, he smiles. In nine years, he’ll have Kiryu back. And then, he’ll never let Kiryu go again.