thirty two

top down

Housen Academy was a far more appealing building than Oya was, not a single speck of spray paint in sight, not a blade of grass out of place.

I stepped out of the car with a slight hesitancy, unaware of how the second fiercest not-quite yakuza school in the prefecture would treat outsiders, even if I was a guest of Odajima's

"Do you remember the last time we were here together?" I asked with a smile, chuckling at the memory.

It was about a year and a half after the infamous keg party. Genji Takiya had broken the non-aggression pact between Surzuran and Housen, and Housen were taking it way too far. Sensing that Genji was going to need the help, Serizawa had come all the way out to Oya to recruit the Sato Seven to help in the faceoff. Surzuran had won, but not without our help. Two days later, Odajima decided that he wanted to get into Housen.

"You mean when that one Housen guy literally picked up Tatsumi and threw him across the field?" Odajima laughed at the memory of our scrawny friend being lifted above the head of a member of Housen's Skinhead Army.

"Well, neither of us are getting any younger." I said, nudging my head in the direction of the door. "We might as well get this over with."

Housen prided itself on tradition. Odajima had once described it to me as 'university but if it was a fight club.' They trained their students in four kinds of martial arts, as well as teaching them educational classes in God-knows-what (Odajima mentioned that he was studying kiniesiology). The youngest student in Housen's current graduating class was Shida Kenzo, who was barely twenty. Sachio was the same age as me, and Jinkawa and Sawamura were older.

"For a place that thrives off tradition, it sure has changed since high school." I mused, my white Vans squeaking across the pristine tile floor as I followed Odajima down the main hallway.

"Don't let Sachio hear you say that." Odajima chuckled "Housen's been trying to patch itself together for years after what happened with Taiga."

"I mean, we did sort of destroy the place."

"That too."

Everything in Housen was done in shades of grey. Pictures lined the walls of the main entrance hall, some faces I recognized from way back when. One face even looked like one of the guys from Daruma Ikka, but again, junior year was so long ago.

It was steely quiet, the only sounds being grunts of pain form one of the training rooms. It looked like class was in session as we walked past a classroom teaching the fine art of pressure points and acupuncture needles. What exactly they were teaching these guys remained a mystery to me.

"So where are your friends?" I asked, my voice echoing over the spotless hallway. The whole experience was giving me ideas about how I could fix up Oya, make it seem a little more inviting and less like 'enter if you dare'.

"No clue."

We stopped in the hallway near a display case showcasing all of the various awards Housen students had won in martial arts competitions, a shout echoing down the hallways. "Odajima, you son of a bitch, where were you!?"

Odajima rolled his eyes. "That would be them now."

Two guys came strutting down the hallway, one in a green flannel with a buzzcut, and the other with chestnut hair so poofy that I wouldn't be surprised if there was some small defenseless animal hiding in it.

"In your mother's bed." Odajima joked at the one with the buzzcut who had spoken earlier. "She's a lovely woman."

"Nice try." The boy shook his head "Shida tried that one already."

"God damn it, Shida."

The other boy-Shida-simply shrugged. "Maybe we were both with your mother. Like Odajima said, she's a lovely woman, in many ways."

I choked back a laugh, leaning on the display case so I wouldn't topple over.

"Like some kind of weird threesome? With my mom? That's too far man!"

When the three boys had stopped laughing, and trying to kill each other, Odajima took some time to introduce us all. "Guys, guys. In all seriousness, this is the girl I've been sneaking off to see. Sawamura, Shida, this is Midori Yamada, my high school best friend and one seventh of the original Sato Seven."

I waved meekly, Shida's eyes going wide.

"I know you! Four time national-champion, right? You had one of the best tomoe-nage's on the circuit!"

Sawamura looked at him "Sorry, what are you talking about?"

"I think Shida's trying to tell us that he watches girls -57 judo." I chuckled. "I used to fight when I was a teenager."

"You were incredible!"

Sawamura raised an eyebrow. "You watch women's judo? Clearly it's not to learn technique."

"Shut up, Sawamura."

Odajima cleared his throat, taking over the conversation. "So, where's Sachio?"

Sawamura snorted "Like hell if I know. It's like five years of friendship just went down the drain the second I started dating his sister."

"He's probably in the mat room." Shida offered. "You know how he is about morning meditations."

"That I do." Odajima hummed. "Jinkawa with him?"

"I think so. Why?"

Odajima sighed "It's better if we both explain to everybody at once."

Sawamura and Shida exchanged a glance, clearly worried. As Odajima had explained in the car, it wasn't likely Housen were going to help Oya again for no reason. The only reason they had gotten involved with Kidra was because Sawamura ended up in the ICU after being attacked by some of Kidra's guys.

I followed Odajima and his friends down a winding hall, earning some decidedly strange looks from bald-headed Housen students peering out of classrooms. I'd never really understood the significance of the Skinhead Army, but Housen managed to keep itself unified, which already meant they were a stronger, more cohesive force than most of their rival schools.

Sachio Ueda sat in the middle of the large straw tatami mats that made up the floor of the mat room, blinds drawn and eyes closed while traditional music played quietly off the phone sitting by his feet.

With no regard whatsoever for the potential sacredness of Sachio's daily routine, Sawamura walked around the room whisking the curtains open.

"What the hell, Sawamura!?" Sachio barked, his eyes snapping open "I have a routine!"

"Not anymore." Sawamura shot back. "Odajima brought a guest."

"Why should I care?"

"With all due respect, Sachio-san." I stepped in, making my presence known. "I come on behalf of Oya Kokoh. We need your help."

"Not again." A burlier man who was sitting in the corner with a chemistry textbook groaned. I assumed he was Jinkawa.

I slipped out of my shoes, placing my backpack on the ground and gently taking the thick socks off my feet. All of the Housen boys stared at me, as if it was unusual for me to know the strict tradition they followed. I had been a judoka for most of my teen years. The tradition had been practically burned into the tissue of my brain. Stepping onto the slate grey mats, I bowed in the direction of Sachio and the Housen Academy logo before explaining our perilous situation with the Mighty Warriors, and why Housen's involvement was crucial to our success. Sachio remained unamused.

"Listen, as much as I would like to help, and I really would," Sachio started "there's simply no logical reason for Housen to get involved, other than the fact that you've been friends with Odajima for ten years."

"I'll fight you for it." I proposed, desperation seeping into my voice. "A nice, clean judo match. I win, you help us."

"Dori." Odajima warned

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Jinkawa asked

I rolled my eyes. "I'm a four time world champion, who only recently started training again. It's gotta be mostly fair, right? One of you can referee, no?"

Odajima shook his head "Leave me out of this."

Jinkawa shrugged. "I'll do it. It's probably gonna be the highlight of the day."

Sachio and I stood in the middle of the grey mats, and Jinkawa gestured for us to bow to each other to begin the match. When Jinkawa shouted 'hajime', our hands instantly sprung up, shoving the other's hands out of the way as we both attempted to get grips on each other. Shida was watching with excitement in his eyes. Sawamura looked unamused.

My arm shot up over Sachio's head to grasp the back of his collar. He jerked his head to the side trying to jerk my arm away. We stumbled around the mats a little more, trying to break the other person's grip before I made my move, extending one jean clad leg and spinning around to throw Sachio's limber body over it in a perfect tai-otoshi, hearing a small tear as his button down shirt partially came away in my hand.

The room went silent as Jinkawa shouted ippon, declaring my victory. Shida practically lost it at my victory, and even Sawamura chuckled. Odajima wore his signature smirk.

"That's my girl."

Sachio was shocked. I'm sure he hadn't expected his morning to go quite like this.

Sachio was about to respond when the mat room door slid open, a very familiar voice proclaiming that she had brought the boys something to eat.

"Mrs. Yuken!" I shouted, getting to my feet and hastily bowing before stepping off the mat and wrapping the older blonde woman in a hug.

"Midori!" Mrs. Yuken smiled "I haven't seen you in years! Keeping out of trouble, I hope?"

I nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Yuken."

"Hey mom!" Odajima waved "Did you bring cinnamon rolls?"

Mrs. Yuken rolled her eyes. "Yes, I brought cinnamon rolls. Who do you think I am, Odajima?"

Ah yes. The infamous cinnamon rolls. The very recipe I had made at Oya was seemed like eons ago, the day we were attacked.

"Don't mind if I do." Sawamura said, reaching into the warm white tupperware container, just for a woman who I assumed was his mother to slap his hands away.

"Mom!" He complained

"Wash your hands!" She scolded her son, who rolled his eyes and took the extra-strength sanitizer his mother offered.

Housen's Four Kings gathered around a table sitting low to the floor on the far end of the mat room. Their own personal domain. The mom's continued to fuss over their sons, and Mrs. Yuken fussed a considerable deal about me, making sure I was staying hydrated, asking about how I'd been since moving back to the islands. Mrs. Ueda asked Sachio what happened to his shirt, and when her son simply glared at me, her face changed from annoyance to amusement. It seemed like all the moms were going to take my side today.

"These are incredible, Mrs. Yuken." I said, taking a bite of one of the fresh cinnamon rolls. "I tried to make these at Oya once, but Yasushi burnt them."

Odajima's eyes went wide. "You let the yakuza punks desecrate my mother's recipe!"

Mrs. Yuken frowned, hitting her son in the side of the head with a rolled up newspaper. "Be nice!" She scolded before passing Odajima his eye drops. "Drops. And we have to do something about your hair."

The blond shook his head. "We aren't touching my hair." He tilted his head back, pulling off his purple sunglasses.

"Woah man!" Shida protested "Not here, not while we're eating!"

"What do you want me to do, then? I need these to see."

"Go to the hallway or something!" Jinkawa added

As the Housen boys continued to bicker amongst themselves, their mothers simply sighing in defeat, I slid my phone out of my jeans pocket to check up on everybody else's progress. Hiroomi, as well as Murayama and Tosroki had been vastly unsuccessful in convincing Hyuga, and in addition, Masaki had found a date for the attack. With only five days to go until the Mighty Warriors made their move, we had nothing.

Well, except the fact that Tsuji and Shibaman wanted to kill each other.

God help us all.

NOTES!!

so i may or may not have made some wedding mood boards for the final chapter/epilogue thingy...