Chapter 45: Ayasei’s Helplessness, Former Roommates

The morning news also featured a photograph. In the picture, Shunobu Aoyama was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, accentuating his strong, upright figure. His gaze was resolute and profound, his right hand gripping a pistol. At his feet lay Ichiro Takeda, face down, contorted in pain and unable to move. The polished, spotless leather shoes pressed mercilessly against Takeda’s face, forming a stark contrast between Aoyama’s cold, handsome features and the twisted, miserable visage beneath his feet.

Of course, this photograph had been staged afterward. But the public was none the wiser! Everyone who saw it was deeply shaken—unlikely to forget it anytime soon.

“Ah! Shunobu, is that really you? Isn’t that far too dangerous!” Aoyama Seiko exclaimed repeatedly while watching the news over breakfast, her tone both reproachful and concerned. “Don’t be so reckless in the future. What if something happens to you?”

Others cared only about whether the scene looked impressive. Only his sister-in-law worried about the danger.

Shunobu Aoyama felt a warm glow inside, smiling gently. “Don’t worry, sister-in-law. I know what I’m doing.”

Seiko shot him a glance. If you really did, you wouldn’t have beaten your brother so badly. Then, suddenly recalling something, she asked, “Does this mean you can resume your post and return to the Metropolitan Police Department?”

Even at the same rank, serving in the Metropolitan Police was quite different from working at a local station. In Tokyo, it mattered less, but in other prefectures, Metropolitan Police officers were automatically regarded as senior.

“That’s right. The Chief Inspector personally promised me last night,” Shunobu replied with a reserved smile.

“Really? That’s wonderful!” Seiko’s eyes sparkled, joy lighting up her face. She stood up abruptly, and her round figure beneath the white fitted shirt swayed a bit; realizing her lapse in composure, she quickly sat down again, regaining the dignity befitting a sister-in-law. “Shunobu, please come home early tonight after work. I’ll cook something delicious to celebrate.”

Though the transfer order hadn’t arrived yet and uncorking champagne prematurely wasn’t auspicious, Shunobu wouldn’t spoil her mood. He agreed with a smile, “Of course.”

Elsewhere, the Asai family was also gathered for breakfast.

“I expect your transfer order to the Metropolitan Police will come through this week. You won’t be working under me anymore, so mind your words and actions—don’t be so capricious.” Asai Takehiko swallowed his sandwich, admonishing his daughter.

Ayaka Asai looked impatient, rolling her eyes, “Dad, I’m not a teenager anymore. I’ve grown up.”

“Yes, dear, you should have confidence in Ayaka,” Mrs. Asai said with a smile.

“She’s grown in body, not in mind.” Takehiko glared at Ayaka, then turned to his wife with a hint of reproach, “It’s all because you’ve spoiled her.”

In Japan, couples with children typically refer to each other as “Dad” and “Mom,” much like “the child’s father” or “the child’s mother.”

Only Ayaka’s older brother, Satoshi Asai, sat expressionless at the table, silently eating his breakfast.

“How am I not grown up? I’ve had plenty of achievements recently,” Ayaka protested.

“And you know exactly how you managed those achievements,” Takehiko scoffed. Then, his expression turned serious as he cautioned, “Shunobu Aoyama is capable and can help you. It’s important to maintain a good relationship with him, but keep your distance—don’t cross the line of friendship. You understand what I mean.”

“Yes, yes,” Ayaka said irritably, though she thought to herself: We’re way past ‘distance’—the only way to manage it is to avoid him when he comes from behind.

His assets are formidable—deep and dangerous!

Takehiko changed the subject. “When Jimphei Ichiro returns at the end of the month, you’ll come with us to meet him.”

“Dad, I don’t like him, and I don’t want to think about this right now,” Ayaka frowned.

For the first time, Satoshi spoke, his tone calm, “Neither you nor I have the right to decide our marriages. You’ve enjoyed everything the family provides. Now you must contribute to the family’s growth and prosperity. Don’t lose sight of your place just because we dote on you.”

Ayaka’s face turned pale. She gripped her chopsticks tightly, her lips pressing together as she tried to muster the courage to argue back, but in the end, no words came.

“I’m finished. I’ll be going now,” Satoshi said coolly, wiping his mouth with a napkin, pulling his jacket from the back of his chair, and bowing to his parents before striding out the door.

He too had been a police officer, but that was in the past. Three years ago, he resigned from the Metropolitan Police and is now a prefectural assemblyman in neighboring Kanagawa. Officially, his position is similar to Aoyama Munemasa’s, but in reality, it’s quite different.

For in the next national election, Munemasa may remain a prefectural assemblyman, or could even lose his seat, while Satoshi is almost certain to secure a seat in the House of Representatives.

The Asai family had served the police for generations, but Satoshi was the first to step outside law enforcement and into politics, hoping to transform the family into a political dynasty. Thus, he valued any future support, viewing both his own marriage and his sister’s as means to secure it.

Shunobu Aoyama had no idea of the ordeal Ayaka was enduring at home. After breakfast, he headed to work at the precinct, but received a call from Mrs. Nohara on the way.

“Mr. Aoyama, I’m sorry to trouble you. If you’re not busy, could you come to my house?”

“What’s the matter?” Shunobu asked, recalling Mrs. Nohara’s voluptuous figure, feeling a stirring restlessness.

It had already been a full day since he’d last been intimate with anyone.

It really had been a while!

Mrs. Nohara’s voice was soft and delicate, so gentle it seemed to blow directly into his ear even through the phone. “It’s hard to explain over the phone. Of course, if you’re busy, I can wait until later.”

“Madam, I’ll come right away.” As a policeman ever eager to help others, Shunobu was never good at refusing. He hung up and drove straight to the Nohara residence.

When he arrived, the gate was open.

He drove his car right in.

Mrs. Nohara came out to greet him at the sound. Seeing Shunobu step out, she bowed from afar, her voice coy and sweet, “Mr. Aoyama.”

Because she had to go to work later, Mrs. Nohara was dressed as a professional woman: her hair tied up, clad in a black suit, her white blouse full and snug, her fitted trousers hugging her shapely hips and thighs, accentuating her graceful curves.

The final touch was a delicate pair of glasses perched on her nose, adding even more allure.

“You’re looking lovelier than ever, Madam,” Shunobu greeted her, pulling her into his arms.

He was naturally familiar, never distant with another man’s wife—especially since he was Mrs. Nohara’s lover.

“Ah!” Mrs. Nohara gasped, blushing as she nestled in his embrace, tilting her head back and pleading, “Mr. Aoyama, please, not like this. I invited you for business—let go of me first.”

“Business only needs one mouth. It won’t take long,” Shunobu laughed, kicking the door closed and lifting her into his arms.

“Ah!” Mrs. Nohara instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, legs kicking in the air. Her slippers fell off, revealing petite feet cloaked in black stockings, the red nail polish faintly visible through the sheer fabric. “Mr. Aoyama, put me down, I’m so embarrassed—I can walk myself.”

“Please go ahead, Madam. What’s the matter?” Shunobu sat with her on the sofa, burying his face in her chest and inhaling greedily—the scent of happiness.

Mrs. Nohara’s face was scarlet as she leaned back, exposing the graceful curve of her neck, shyly closing her eyes, voice trembling, “It’s about the Noguchi Association… Their new president approached me, wanting to continue our partnership. I… I don’t wish to be entangled with these wolves any longer, so I wanted to ask if Mr. Aoyama could recommend another suitable partner.”

Money lent must be recoverable to be profitable.

So, after ousting the Noguchi Association, Nohara Financial Corporation still needed a partner to handle debt collection.

But Shunobu didn’t know anyone in that line of work.

He quickly thought of two candidates.

Lifting his head, he looked at the beautiful woman before him and teased, “I could help, but how will Madam thank me?”

“I will never forget your kindness, Mr. Aoyama, ever,” Mrs. Nohara murmured, her lashes trembling as she opened her eyes.

Aoyama’s favor was like that of a Shogun—an endless debt.

Shunobu laughed, “Words aren’t enough, Madam. Gratitude must be shown with deeds.”

“Mr. Aoyama… you’re so… so wicked,” Mrs. Nohara whispered, mortified. But this was hardly the first time. She slowly knelt on the carpet, reaching to remove her glasses.

Shunobu stopped her, “Keep them on.”

He liked it that way.

Before marrying, Mrs. Nohara had only ever had her husband, Nohara Take, and as a shut-in, she wasn’t worldly—rather shy, but after a few days running the company, she’d become quick-witted and articulate.

Life forces growth.

Shunobu silently marveled at Mrs. Nohara’s rapid progress as he dialed Ryoichi Fujimoto, “Ryoichi-san, those two you found last time—which syndicate are they from?”

He meant the two hitmen Fujimoto had arranged to pose as Noguchi Matsuo and intercept Matsushita Junichi—efficient, discreet workers.

“They’re from the Yamakawa clan in Kanagawa, under the Inagawa-kai. I know Yamakawa Kazuki personally. Why, do you have another secret job for them?”

“Ah! Come on, Ryoichi-san, don’t think I’m so shady,” Shunobu said, patting Mrs. Nohara’s head. “Please arrange a meeting with Yamakawa Kazuki—I want to introduce him to some business.”

Fujimoto specifically mentioned Kanagawa to show that the Yamakawa clan had no turf in Tokyo.

This meant their power was limited, certainly less than the Noguchi Association. For Yamakawa Kazuki, working with Nohara Financial Corporation as a debt collector would be a lucrative, respectable job.

“Tonight?” Fujimoto asked.

“Ten o’clock tonight,” Shunobu replied.

“Understood!” Fujimoto agreed.

…………………………

While Shunobu Aoyama and Mrs. Nohara were tangled up in their own affairs, elsewhere the five-person entrepreneurial group had returned to their hideout to discuss their robbery plan.

“Takeda Ichiro has just been arrested. Now is when the banks and police are most lax. We must act quickly, or we’ll miss the perfect opportunity.”

“The Osaka branch of Choshin Bank was hit, so the other branches will likely boost their security. I suggest we skip them—what about the Postal Bank?”

The five brainstormed together.

“It’s not good to rob a national bank. Let’s hit one controlled by a financial conglomerate,” one member said, patriotic.

Ring ring~ ring ring~

Just then, the phone rang.

“Quiet, everyone!” The long-haired youth in charge silenced his four companions and answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Ha ha, Noda-kun, how have you been lately?”

“Kobayashi-kun?” The long-haired Noda paused, unsure, and ventured tentatively.

“So you remember me, Noda-kun,” Kobayashi replied cheerfully. “Long time no see. Interested in coming to Tokyo for a little fun? I’ve got a money-making opportunity.”

“Ha! It really is you!” Noda smiled, immediately agreeing, “I happen to be in Tokyo. You pick the place tonight.”

Kobayashi had been his roommate—they’d spent three years together as bunkmates, eating, fighting, sharing study tips, growing together, and, late at night, discussing their dreams and plans for the future.

Back then, they didn’t smoke or drink, lived routinely, ate healthily, and carried no burdens—youth, so vivid in memory…

Their friendship grew deep over those three years.

Unfortunately, Noda had been released first, and they drifted apart. The last time he visited Kobayashi in prison, he left a phone number, and today—he was surprised to finally receive a call from his old friend.