It was never in Rakka's calculations that he would have to meet with the information broker again. In order for him to secure the best possible outcome, he would have to arrange meetings with him more than he would like to.
It was ridiculously hard to reach Keiseimaru. Ironically, he was not the responsive type. No texts, no calls, no emails, it did leave Rakka wondering how the hell could he make a name as an information broker when he actively ignored everyone's messages like that. One had to be patient when trying to contact him, or he would deem them unworthy of his attention and the number would go straight to the block jail. Even Rakkagiri was no different than the average man - most of his calls went straight to voicemail, to the point that the caporegime had gotten used to it. However, there was one particular occasion when he was getting ready to record a voicemail, that he actually received a reply.
6 o'clock, alone atop the ruins of the abandoned observatory, the light emanating from the cigarette quietly lit up Keiseimaru's face. It may not be the best idea to smoke on a windy night, especially when the wind wants nothing more than to blow the smoke right at his face. The lit up phone screen added to his annoyance aside from his watery eyes. Incoming call.
Keiseimaru's first reaction upon seeing it was simple: ignore. He had never been the type to hurriedly answer his phone, so in a way him having a number or not didn't matter. To Keiseimaru's very own preference, he was not tethered to anyone, anything, nor anywhere. Like a spirit born from the wind, he was never grounded at one place for too long. The more someone wants to reach him, the harder it gets for them. Even with all the money in the world, no one ever gets to the infamously fickle Keiseimaru.
Just as he was about to let the call slide straight into voicemail, Keiseimaru caught a glimpse of the caller. "Caporegime".
"What are you calling me for?"
"Keiseimaru?"
"Who else would it be? Make haste."
Amused, Rakka pulled the phone away from his face to stare at it, as if confirming that he was not hallucinating.
"I'm not in the mood to call you just for kicks. Listen, the famiglia has a new job that I need some info from you. Can I come… tonight?"
"… Sure."
The other line didn't seem much too enthusiastic in his reply, but that was enough for Rakkagiri. One word of confirmation was all he needed. Of course, in true gentlemen's fashion, he showed up at the door right on time, with a pricey bottle of wine as a gift for the man he was about to bother.
"Hello."
Keiseimaru did think it was quite unnecessary of him to dress up so nicely just for a bit of information, but he guessed it couldn't be helped. After all, keeping faces was a big part for people like Rakkagiri. Without another word, he pushed the door open. Coyly, Rakkagiri entered the almost-welcoming house.
"You don't have to walk on eggshells like that." Keiseimaru stepped aside. The gesture was simply to greet Rakka into the apartment. "This room is still the same as it has always ever been."
"You don't say." Rakka commented on what he assumed was a recall to their first meeting. "Don't you come back here often?"
"I don't. It's simply too much of a hassle."
"Isn't this your home, though?" No wonder why it was so cold.
"I've never liked staying at one place for too long, even if that's the place I have to call home. Staying means you're waiting for something, and I have nothing and no one to do that."
"Is that so?"
Rakka didn't press any further. He already knew the man in front of him was not one to put up with too many questions, and he didn't want to sound like a cop either. To each their own, it was as simple as that.
Hands and feet tangled, Rakkagiri and Keiseimaru started what they were there for, in the dead hour of night.
After their deal was sealed, they would each lie on one side of the bed, as far away from each other as possible. It was not just information that Rakka came into contact with, but the warmth of Keisei's body as well. Never was it for the sake of intimacy, so as a matter of fact, every inch of skin as well as blemishes, bruises, and scars of theirs were seen by their partner. They were not afraid of showing scars or leaving them. Of course, bad habits were also included in the package. Inside that one bedroom apartment, it was just them, quickly finishing their business before the sun rose, but they both found it comforting.
Before Keisei could rise and have a chance to say goodbye, Rakka would put on his clothes hastily and quickly scribble a sorry note, explaining he did not mean to leave so early without a word. But he had to, obviously. Just like that, the warmth in the spot next to Keiseimaru had already left by the time he opened his eyes. His heart remained cold like the pillow that had lost the person who once laid on it. It couldn't even bother to ache. As usual, waking up was the most undesired part of a long day to him.
But where on earth did Rakkagiri go?
When the town was still barely awake, Rakka had already driven his Chevy towards an old church in the far east end, where he frequented. One would say that this was not a place where you would find a caporegime, but it gave Rakka a bit of peace of mind knowing nobody he knew was going to come here. A devoted child of God, he would come to pray every other week. Quietly, he walked to the confession booth, not caring whether or not someone was there to listen to him. Hanging his head low, he started his confession with a heart full of regret:
"I have had relations with one I should not be desiring for." Rakka started his confession. "There is no temptation, as I did this out of my own volition. Had I not agreed to this from the beginning, no one could have tempted my sinner soul. I beg for your pardon, and please guide me towards righteousness through this time of darkness. Amen."
Leaving the church, Rakkagiri hurriedly (again, he was never a man of idleness) went back to the Don. Lucky for him, only him and the locals knew of this place. Though, the Don wouldn't go into places like this - even if he did, he wouldn't dare to lift a finger. The famiglia has an unspoken rule regarding religious establishments - no "business" shall be conducted where there resides a deity. In one way or another, Rakka was protected by his faith.
******
Since the Don was out of town with his consigliere, Rakkagiri was in charge of looking after his son, aside from his usual forte - businesses that could not be finished over just words. Though truth be told, he'd always taken care of the kid ever since he was first brought to the family. An upgrade from glamorized babysitter to caporegime, that he had the Don to thank for. As the adopted son of the Liotta family, his status was enough to ensure respect amongst his peers and control over a handful of men in the famiglia.
"Rakka?"
He didn't look up right away.
"You're walking too quietly again," he said softly. "Inei, one day you'll give me a real heart attack."
"Sorry…"
"What brings you here?"
"Your snacks."
"Care for some cannoli?"
"Yes please!"
The faintest smile tugged at the corner of Rakkagiri's mouth. While he prepared the light afternoon snack, the Don's only son watched him with an ardent adoration in his eyes. Inei, that's what people called him. Fifteen years old, standing an unimpressive height of 5 '4, it was hard to believe that this little boy was anything but the son of a Don.
"Here you go."
"Thank you! Oh, pistachio! Just my favourite!"
"It's your only flavour." Rakka chuckled. "Want me to change it up some time?"
"Nah, this is fine, thanks."
As he bit into the cannoli, Inei began:
"Gatto from Brasi got picked up," Inei said at last. "By the cops."
"Gatto? How come?"
"Word is, someone tipped them off. A dealer, maybe."
Rakka stopped mixing. Seeing his unhappy expression, the Liotta family's heir was puzzled:
"What's wrong?"
"Well, if it's one of Brazil's people, he's going to come out of that unscathed. They're going to find someone to serve the sentence for him or worse, take the blame, and all is cleared. They can't afford to lose Gatto, after all."
"How do you know?" Inei questioned.
"Inei," Rakka said, leaning in. "Brasi's people have had the mayor in their pocket for years. You think the mayor's kids get to flunk out of school and still study abroad by chance?"
He added another swirl of pistachio cream to Inei's cannoli.
"And the mayor," Rakka continued, "was a cop himself once. He knows how to hide his claws."
"Oh." In the face of his cracked reality, Inei remained rather silent.
"Yep. One of those guys. The mayor knew how to hide his claws. You remember those cases where you think it's gonna be blown up due to how serious those crimes against another man were, but then all of a sudden things just… disappeared from everyone's mind? Has it ever occurred to you just how things played out like that?"
"That son of a…"
Rakka couldn't help but sigh at the young master's mumbled curses. He was barely a teen, yet had to shoulder the responsibilities of a future Don, a rather unwanted gift granted to him by his very lineage. Even though his stature was fairly small (like his father's), his limbs were too long, as if they were trying their best to fit in this child's tiny body. For some peculiar reasons only he could understand, Rakka blamed everything on the Don for making him understand details of the family's deeds so early. Too young, yet shouldered too much of a burden. Such was the fate of this child who hadn't even grown into his facial hair yet. He wished Inei didn't have to witness things even adults could hardly fathom at this age.
"Can you leave some cannoli for Nana? I wonder where she went, she's never absent for snack time."
"She had a few unfinished business out of town, so Nana left earlier today. But she'll come back by tomorrow evening."
Upon hearing Rakka's response, Inei returned to his afternoon snack as the former only sipped on a cup of tea. Both were deep in their own thoughts. The room fell into silence, with only the sound of distant traffic remaining.
But Rakka's mind was elsewhere. Keiseimaru - his voice, his grin, the cigarette smoke. The way he handed over intel Rakka hadn't even asked for, as if he'd already seen where the path was going.
The informant was dangerous. Not just because of what he knew, but because Rakka had started needing him. Trusting him.
It was not like one could find someone as flexible and knowledgeable as him everyday, so it was understandable why everybody wanted him on their side. Lighting the last cigarette in his pocket, Rakkagiri exhaled slowly, trying to smoke away the memory of that kiss he hadn't meant to save.