Chapter Text
Three months. It had been three months since you uprooted from the familiarity of the States and made the bold choice to move all the way to Sotenbori in Osaka, Japan. This move was also known as 'absurd, senseless, and illogical,' according to your mother, who had been less than pleased about your decision. Three months since you had stepped on new soil, transplanting your roots carefully, hoping they'd grow healthy here.
Four months prior, you found yourself around friends who didn't know you anymore, talking about the upcoming new year, and it struck you that you needed change. You had felt stuck. Between jobs, somewhat directionless; the people around you were getting married, having kids, starting their own businesses, and you were being left in the dust. You weren't getting 'old,' you wouldn't say that, but your prospects seemed so... So drab. What better to do than move across the world? It seemed just the sort of dramatics you craved. The people around you barely knew you, so moving to someplace where for sure no one knew you didn't seem that scary.
At the start of the new year, you took your savings, packed your essentials, hugged your parents (who insisted on seeing you off) goodbye, and boarded a plane. You touched down, and found yourself living in an extended stay hotel the first few weeks. Eventually finding work at an intimate little shot bar, which helped you secure getting a studio apartment to call home.
These past months hadn't been easy, but they certainly weren't the most difficult you'd ever experienced. You had enough overhead from savings, and with current work you could be comfortable enough. Your prior studies helped you ease into conversing with others, and integrating in a bar setting had you picking up on the bits of Kansai dialect here and there. Sotenbori being a tourist destination had you overhearing all sorts of patrons, sometimes even others from America, who were impressed to find 'one of them' in a bar.
The bar, Kamohen, wasn't the sort of job you were actually aiming for, but in the effort to try new things, you had applied, and it was the first place to respond with interest to hire you. They thought a bubbly foreigner might bring a different energy than the usual employees. Drinking was a universal language after all. That said, your job was primarily assisting the owner and lead bartender, Ueno-san. Cleaning tables, washing glasses, sometimes resetting the pool and darts areas; menial tasks.
The first impression you had of Hiroyasu Ueno, was that he didn't like you. His face and voice often lacked emotion. He was an older man with more gray hair than black, slicked back, and wore horn-rimmed glasses. It turned out that Ueno liked your energy quite a bit; he just had the unfortunate curse of near-eternal stoicism. He taught you things about drinks here and there, and you came to understand that this was his way of showing he liked you.
Along with learning how to read Ueno, you also began to recognize the regulars apart from the tourists who came into the bar. Most were off the clock workers of the nearby clubs and businesses. Pretty cabaret girls here, stern-looking business men there. However, there was one particular man who stood out, and was hard to forget.
He typically made his way into the bar in the evenings towards the end of the week. He was tall, lean, and dressed in a sharp black suit, red dress shirt and gloves. Oh, and the most defining feature: his eye-patch.
You didn't know much about Goro Majima. You didn't know his work, his age, if he had family... You only really knew his drink of choice. Thankfully for you, you were going to get to know this man quite well very soon.
On this particular Thursday at the end of March, the man with the eye-patch walked in. You had heard Ueno refer to him as 'Majima' many times before with no honorifics. Wonder how long he's been coming here.
Majima looked to his usual spot at the end of the bar, and saw it occupied by tourists. His face tired, his expression mild annoyance. Looking menacing as ever again, you thought. You were wiping the counter when you heard his voice carry to Ueno behind the bar.
"Usual," He said, tapping the counter with his knuckle as he walked alongside the bar, the taps making a soft knock with his gloved hand.
"My apologies, Majima," Ueno responded while buffing a glass, not looking up from his work. "We're out tonight."
"Haw? Out? Ueno what gives?" Majima was leaning over the bar with his arms resting on the counter-top. You could see his brow knit with a growing annoyance.
Ueno set the glass aside, picking up another to wipe down. He motioned with his chin to the group of tourists who were at the end of the bar. They were loud, rowdy, and clearly very drunk off the Hibiki, bottle empty beside them. "As I said, we're out. Would you want the Yamazaki instead?"
You'd been carefully sneaking glances at Majima from your post. He leaned back and drummed his fingers on the counter. He hummed and bobbed his head in thought. "A'ight. 25 year. I don't want no 12 year shit." His crass language fit with his Kansai accent perfectly, you thought.
Ueno nodded, and turned to grab the bottle, "At the bar, or--"
"I'll take a sit over there," Majima motioned to a cushioned chair a bit away from the bar. He turned away lighting a cigarette, and you watched his slender legs carry him across the room. This was the first time since you started working that Majima didn't get his usual seat. He was farther from you, but in a way, it allowed you to linger your gazes longer than normal. The other benefit was getting a good view of his profile. His jawline sure is something.
This man interested you so much. It wasn't the eye-patch, surprisingly, but his saunter, his always gloved hands, his angled jaw and sharp cheekbones. There was an air of mystery to him. He looked like a businessman, but only insofar as he looked like he was pretending to be one. You shuffled behind the counter, and found your eyes wandering again. Majima's head was back and resting on the chair, releasing the smoke from a fresh drag. You could see his chest rise and fall with a large breath, as if releasing the stress of the day.
"Y/N-san," Ueno's voice broke whatever day dream you were finding yourself in. "Drink's ready, take it over."
"Ah, of course, Ueno-san," you gave a slight bow of your head, grabbed the whiskey glass and made your way around the bar. You softly trotted to Majima's table attempting to show you were doing this as fast as possible.
"Here you are, sir," you said cordially, placing a napkin down and the glass atop it. A small bow of your head, "Please let me know if you need anything." How is it possible to look good just by lounging?
You could swear you saw the man's eyebrow raise, his mouth forming a slight smirk. He hummed to himself, leaning forward to grab his glass, giving it a small swirl in his hand, "Think I'm fine."
Nodding your head, you bounced back over to the bar. Ueno pulled a cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket, lighting up.
The energy in Kamohen was different tonight. Normally patrons were relatively quiet at this time, trying to unwind, but tonight the end of the bar was loud with the laughs of the four tourists. You caught their voices rising occasionally to talk over each others exuberant jokes and stories. They'd been there about 45 minutes and were definitely feeling good. Pretty sure Ueno-san closed them out a bit ago. They'll leave soon enough.
"You mind checking in on them?" Ueno asked, cigarette between his lips. "I need to make a call real quick." He motioned that he'd be going to the back room. You nodded in response, Ueno-san doesn't want to deal with them either, so he's sending me to.
Straightening up, you walked to the group of four, entering into frame just in time for them to erupt in laughter over a story another had told. You put on your customer service voice, accompanied by a beaming smile that strangers could swear was genuine, "Are you gentlemen enjoying your time? Is there anything I can do for you?"
Gentlemen is a stretch. It's bad to tell likes, Y/N.
One of the men leaned back in his chair, facing towards you, and looked you up and down. He seemed to be the leader of this little crew. "What's it like?"
"Pardon?" You responded, still smiling. I am begging you not to put your foot in your mouth, sir.
"What's it like being a foreigner here? Sure, you sound fine enough, but it's obvious." The man waved his hand dismissively, turning his head to his friends, "Right?"
The man beside him piped up, "She does stand out like a sore thumb." This elicited a laugh from the group.
Your lip stiffened before curling it back into a fake smile. The third man in the group chimed in, "Well, she sticks out because she looks different from the other girls around here. Especially the cabaret girls."
The fourth leaned over the bar to get a better look at you, "Yeah, she is a little bigger around her curves. Cute though."
Ahh yes, the 'prod and then compliment' move. Make a girl self-conscious so your compliment raises her from the low you put her in.
"Well," you interjected, a hint of annoyance in your tone, "I can direct you to some of the clubs in the area if you would prefer."
"Oh no, no, no," the leader said. "You're very easy on the eyes. No need to take offense."
Your foot? Yeah remove it from your mouth, and shove it up your ass.
"Yeah we were just playing," the fourth chimed, leaning back into his seat. "It's cute you got so flustered."
There was a twinge in your temple. Yes, part of your job was to look 'good,' and yes, they were right about your curves, but this was much more invasive than the usual customer talks. This was a nice establishment. Ueno prided himself on the upstanding, albeit sometimes sketch, clientele.
“Stay and talk with us, cutie,” the man beside the leader cooed.
'Cutie?'
Ignoring the headache that was forming, you smiled through gritted teeth, “Well, I have work to get back to, so if there's something you need--”
The leader waved his hand in the air again cutting you off. “Hey, be a darlin,” he raised his empty glass, “get me a refill?”
“They're all out.”
The four men turned in their seats to see Majima had gotten up from his chair and walked over undetected. You had failed to notice his movements as well, distracted by your act as a humble bar assistant. Majima was rubbing his neck with one hand as if he had slept on it wrong, holding his glass with the other hand, eye closed.
“Who--” one of group tried to speak up, but was promptly interrupted by Majima whose eye shot open and glared, “Ya drank all they had of my favorite. Yer loud too. Think it best ya leave.”
Your eyes were darting between Majima and the group of men. You turned back to see if Ueno had returned, but no such luck. You witnessed plenty of bar fights before, but you definitely weren't paid enough to break one up, even if it could mean getting a hit in somewhere. Be nice to at least do a dramatic movie-style slap. Always wanted to do that in public.
The leader of the men turned to faced Majima, “are you trying to tell me what to do, cyclops?” He stood up, soon realizing that the man he insulted had a good bit of height over him. You could see his bravado shrink a bit.
Majima's fist clenched, the sound of leather rubbing against itself. He casually titled his head, cracking his neck. “Ya know,” Majima leaned his face down towards the smaller man, “Yer really startin to piss me off.”
“Well--” The second of the group put a hand on the standing man's shoulder, and shook his head, silently telling him to back down.
“Hey, let's just go,” the third stood from his chair. “The clubs will have more drinks, and friendlier women.”
You made a disgruntled expression, taken aback a bit.
The leader straightened himself and adjusted his collar, “Yeah, wouldn't want to stick around here longer anyway.”
The group shuffled their way out the door, mumbling to themselves.
You and Majima were the only two in the bar now, standing apart with the counter between you. You hadn't many chances to look him directly in the eye before since he usually was watching his glass; in fact, it was almost as if he didn't want to look at you normally.
Say something, dingus. You're practically staring. Opening your mouth, you felt your voice stutter, “I--”
“Y/N-san!” Ueno's voice bellowed from the doorway a bit behind you causing you to jump, “Can you clean that mess? Clean Majima's seat for him.” He gestured to the glasses left behind by the earlier party.
“Yes, right away!” You hurriedly grabbed the glasses, carefully putting them in the small sink. You picked up the abandoned napkins, and full ashtray, moving to the trash, then pulling a rag out to wipe the counter.
Majima took his seat at the end, and you could tell by the way he slightly wiggled to get comfortable that he was proud to have his chair back.
You left the bar area to clean Majima's table, noticing it was actually pretty clean already. He must have wiped up when he got up. Wait, where was--
“Over here. Brought it with me.” Majima was calling to you, lightly shaking the ashtray in his hand, one butt already put out. He set the tray back in front of him near his drink. You gave a light smile, and returned to the bar, turning on the tap to rinse the glasses you had just put there.
Ueno asked if Majima was interested in another Yamazaki, which he answered with a nod. He nursed what remained in his glass, the round ice cube clanking on the sides.
Your hands in the sink, Ueno's back to you while he prepared another glass, you felt Majima looking in your direction, or maybe it was directly at you. Your cheeks were still a bit red from the now subsiding adrenaline you had felt during that annoying conversation, though now you felt a different kind of warmth coming over you.
Ueno took Majima's empty glass, and replaced it with the new drink, then added the used glass to your wash station. The bar was silent save for the rush of water in the sink, and the glasses clinking together as you set them to dry before a wipe down.
“So, Y/N-chan is it?” Majima was most definitely talking to you.
“Oh umm, yeah,” You looked up and made brief eye contact before returning to the glasses. Turning off the sink and grabbing the drying towel, you began to buff out the water spots trying to form. “Although, the 'chan' is new.”
“Haw? No one calls you that?” Majima leaned forward a bit, “How long you been here?”
You looked to Ueno who had moved to the other end of the bar and seemed to be counting the till. From the corner of his eye, he saw your silent question, “I know I'm cleaning, but can I take a break to talk,” and nodded before going back to counting.
“Three months,” you responded. You found yourself leaning on the bar as well, though you were a few feet up the counter from Majima's seat. He motioned for you to slide down closer to him, so you walked over, continuing to speak, “Wanted something new, and found myself here. Just winging it.”
Majima nodded thoughtfully. “Adds up,” he remarked. “Didn't realize ya'd been here that long. Ya never talk.”
“I don't talk to people who look like they don't want to be talked to,” playful sass behind your words.
“Haw? Is that so? I look that scary to ya, huh?”
You shrugged, your expression faking aloofness as you smirked. “You never said much before, either.”
“I 'spose.” After a bit of a pause, Majima leaned in further towards you. His expression was playful, and in a bit of a whisper he asked, “What would ya've done if I had decked that dick earlier?”
“I would have joined.” You shot back without any hesitation.
Majima threw back his head and cackled, “Ooo I wasn't expectin that.” He clapped in approval before taking a drink. He set his glass down, and looked you over. “Name's Majima. Can ya remember that, Y/N-chan?” His inflection rising at the end in a playful pitch.
You mused, words laced with sarcasm, “I dunno. It's not like you ever come in here, is it?”
Majima sat back, putting a hand to his chest, acting indignant, “Are ya sayin' ya don't remember this handsome mug that comes in every week?”
“It is rather handsome,” you mumbled under your breath, adverting your attention to the glasses needing to be wiped.
“Haw?” Majima leaned over the bar again, “Ya say somethin?”
You waved your hand in front of your face, feeling a bit hot, “No, no, it's nothing.”
Majima propped up his elbow, and rested his chin on his fist. “So,” he tilted his head to the side, “First to call ya 'chan,' eh?”
“Yup,” you were absentmindedly wiping an already clean counter to distract yourself from the warmth trying to build on your cheeks. “What? You want an award?”
Majima slapped the bar so suddenly, you jumped, “Hell yeah, I do! Didn't know ya handed those out!” Genuine excitement plastered on his beaming face.
You couldn't help laughing. Not like that customer service laugh you did before, but a real and very honest laugh. “Ahh sorry, sorry,” you attempted to compose yourself. “Didn't know you'd be the first to call me that, so I couldn't get it etched for you.”
“Well shit,” Majima picked up his glass and downed what was left of his drink. A mischievous grin spread across his face, “Guess I'll come back next week to pick it up then.”He opened his wallet, counting out a few bills before placing them on the counter. He stood from the bar and straightened his suit jacket.
“Heading out?” You looked up at him, now noticing how tall he really was compared to you.
Majima bent forward a bit, “Heading ouuuut...” He twirled his hand, expectancy in his tone.
“Heading out, Majima-san?” You corrected yourself.
“There ya go!” Majima beamed and pointed at you looking proud. This caused another laugh to erupt from you, softer this time; a borderline giggle.
Majima turned away, nodded his head to Ueno as he passed. “See you next week, Y/N-chan!” He called over his shoulder, not looking back as he walked out the door. You didn't know it, but his beaming grin had softened, and had been replaced with a gentle smile.