After a drive through back-street he could've navigated blindfolded, Reika and Renji stood side by side in front of the door, staring at the worn-out sign above the canopy.
'Warai Gyoza Honpo (笑い餃子本舗)'
"It's been quite a while…" Reika muttered in nostalgic tone.
"…Yeah… sure is…" Renji felt something tightened in his chest. Then he forces himself to ask the unpleasant. "So… in the end…? Who did this to old man…?"
"…Sorry… I've looked into it, but… whoever behind this, hide their traces too well…"
"It's okay… Reika-sama…"
The dust sitting thick over the small signage plate at the door with anime-like fonts. Still read 'Open!', unchanged despite business had been shut for months now.
"…So, Tetsuo-san really never flip this sign…?"
"Yeah… he said it's a hassle…" Renji let out dry laugh, "Because back then, old man waited all day and no single customer, only to realize that he forgot to flip it, practically waiting on a 'closed' store all day…"
"Haha… I can imagine his baffled look…"
Renji reached for the signage, and flip it to 'Closed.' With a forlorn smile, he attempts a joke that lost all its energy to be one.
"…Heh… not like there'll be any customer even when he flipped the sign properly anyway…"
"… I'm one of his returning dine-in patron, you know…" Reika playfully corrected him, then add, "Me and Shira had our breakfast here when we have time… though… only once or twice a month…"
"Old man must've been very happy…"
Now, no voices. No clatter from inside. Only the faint hum of traffic bleeding in from somewhere far off the main road, like the world had moved on without bothering to take this place with it.
"…Are you okay, Renji?"
"I'm fine…" Yet his gaze stayed fixed on the door.
"…You're not alone you know."
Her soft voice finally pulled him out of whatever he'd been sinking into. He glanced at her and caught something unexpected.
Not her usual composure. There were unspoken guilt and regret on her eyes too.
…Reika-sama…
He didn't finish the thought. Instead, as if bracing himself, and reached into his pocket for the worn-out key that felt familiar in his hand, slid it into the lock, and turned once.
*Clack.*
The door gave way with a quiet slide.
They both greeted by a small space, old and kind of gloomy to boot, contrary to its cheerful restaurant name. The white tile of the floor yellowed by years of stain and oil. The cement walls peeled and cracked in several places. In the middle of it all stood three tables, each with two mismatched plastic chairs. Sunlight filtered through narrow gaps, catching dust suspended midair.
It was stale and abandoned. And yet that same quiet comfort lingered beneath everything.
Renji let out something small between a sigh and a laugh.
"…I'm back, old man…"
"…I'm back, Tetsuo-san…"
He stepped inside first, straightening his posture, then cleared his throat.
"Welcome to WaraGyo, ready to serve-hot and smiling-" saying the catchphrase Tetsuo made, and Renji delivered it with his deadpan tone.
Reika glanced at him for a second, then let out a giggle, shaking her head slightly.
"If I were the manager of this place… I'd fire you on the spot for ruining the brand image."
"…Wow. That bad…?"
Reika too, stepped further inside, brushing her fingers lightly against the countertop as she passed. Slicing the dust sitting on the surface, marking how long it had been left untouched.
"…Come on… let's get this done."
Renji nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out two clean cloths. He handed one to her.
"Going to be really dusty from here on out ma'am…"
She accepted it just as naturally, slipping off her tuxedo and setting it aside before tying the cloth around her face, covering her nose and mouth.
For a brief second, Renji watched her.
…The boss of a yakuza… helping me cleaning… heh…
He followed and moved behind the counter, flipping the switch. The lights flickered, then came alive—dim at first, before settling into a steady glow.
Reika opens the windows and the back door. Fresh air pushed in immediately, stirring the stagnant air, sending dust swirling into the light.
"*Cough*—*Cough* holy, that's crazy…"
"…Almost three months *Cough* after all…"
Then both of them simply started, cleaning the tables first, then chairs, dusting off the surfaces until Renji muttered as he moved into the kitchen area.
"…This is going to take a while," He wipe across the counter, more dust came away in uneven streaks. "I'll go grab some cardboard from the back…"
"Alright," Reika replied while sweeping on the floor. "And I think we need more clean cloth…"
"Okie-dokie…"
Soon, he returned from the back with flattened cardboard boxes, more cloth, cutter and duct-tape. He set them down above the clean table, folding one of them into shape.
"…Alright, guess we start from here."
Reika gave a small nod, already following him toward the kitchen.
But suddenly, Renji stopped in his track. "Wait, Reika-sama… before that… can we…?"
She caught on a second later.
"…Of course."
Standing side by side, both of them lowered their heads respectfully. Toward the empty space that still felt occupied.
"…We'll take care of it, old man…"
Not a grand ceremony, just something closer to a farewell.
Then Renji reached for one of the porcelain plates, faintly chipped at the edges, painted with an old Chinese pattern.
"This plate…"
"…Tetsuo-san always served my fried rice on that particular plate, hehe… these are older than they look, he got a good sense of art."
"He was weirdly picky about plates—" Renji wiped one down before setting it into the box. "—Said food tastes better if the plate is nice…'"
"He's right."
"Is it…?"
"…You on the other side… should fix that unrefined mindset of yours…"
"Heeeeh?"
As they continued on sorting the utensils. The row of various knives, ladles. The boiler pot stained from years of cooking, all worn from use. And then—
Renji paused when his hand landed on the wok.
He picked it up at last, slower than everything else.
"Old man never let anyone else touch this… said it'd 'lose its soul' or something."
Reika's gaze softened, just slightly. "A true Tsukumogami (付喪神), then…"
"…Welp… Sorry buddy… but gotta pack you up until the next wielder worthy enough for you appear."
He wiped it down carefully, before wrapping it with a thick canvas sheet, setting it into the box like national treasure.
After making sure everything in the kitchen packed neatly, the seating area came next.
Reika moved ahead this time, picking up a set of chopsticks and aligning them neatly before sorting and packing them. Renji followed with spoons and forks, occasionally tapping them together absentmindedly as he worked.
"…Tetsuo-san really kept this place simple…"
"More like… Old man just doesn't have that kind of leisure… or money… to renovate."
"…I've told him multiple times that I can take care of the money."
"…Yet he refused, right?"
"Yes… I just thought that a slightly cleaner and brighter space would make it better."
"Haha, okay… on 3. Let's say his answer out loud, Reika-sama…"
At first, she just looking back at him with confused eyes, but soon, she understands by searching her memory.
"Oh… then, 1, 2, 3—"
"—Let me be the diamond in the rough—"
"—Let me be the diamond in the rough—"
Both of them said in unison, as if listening Tetsuo laughing proudly in the background.
They wiped down the tables, three of them, placed near each other as if expecting company that never came. The wood beneath the scratch still held its color.
The plastic chairs were next. Totally worn out, slightly uneven at the legs. Renji stacked them one by one, the hollow clack of plastic echoing faintly in the room. After that he crouched down to the stale chiller, pulled it open to reveal rows of drinks remained untouched.
"Oh, Reika-sama… water or soda?"
"…Hmm…?" Reika looked at him, in his left hand a bottle of mineral water, and on his right hand a bottle of cheap juice. "I'll take the water…"
"Here ya go."
"Put it over the counter, I'll drink it later…"
Reika then goes back to packing smaller stuff around the seating area, as Renji opened the juice bottle with a weak hiss.
"…The water aside, is that one still drinkable?"
"…Probably. Just… room-temp…" Renji took a sip, then mumbles "…And not so fizzy anymore…"
Reika just giggles, then sealing one cardboard, she clapped her hands.
"Alright, we're done over here, what's next. Renji?"
"…Let's go for the living room…"
They moved together, the kotatsu sat in the center, blanket slightly folded from its last use. An old CRT TV rested on top of the old cabinet, its dark screen reflecting faint shapes as they moved.
Reika approached the shelf, her fingers hovering over a row of photographs before picking one up.
"…Hmm, he got quite a number on these…" she said after a moment. "Is this Tetsuo-san's family…?"
Renji hesitated before give her a vague reply. "…I think so…"
"You think so…?"
"…Yeah… I think so… I… uhhh… never asked him about his… life…" Renji hand stopped, after short silence, he turned to Reika with pained face. "I know… I'm the worst… and I… regret that I… never bothered to ask him about it…"
"…Renji…" She was about to shot him with sarcastic joke, but held herself as she saw the heavy guilt in his eyes.
"…I… never thought… he would gone this way… this soon…"
"…Yes, me too…" Then Reika just wiped the frame quietly. one by one, the photographs were cleaned and placed into the box. The same went for the old accounting books—pages yellowed, corners bent, filled with handwriting that neither of them can read.
The kotatsu was folded carefully. The TV left as it was for now. And they're done for this room.
"…By the way… is his room…?" Renji said things that he had been avoiding ever since.
"Shira's the one who cleaned the scene… so, no police involved…"
"… Is that… so…"
They both walk to the last room. The door just behind the living room. He stopped at the entrance.
"…I've only been here once… the first time I woke him up from overslept…" he said quietly while pushes the door open. The room itself was simple, similar to the rest of the building. A bed, a small desk, drawers pushed neatly against the wall.
And, a faint-dark-stain on the floor.
Not obvious at first glance. But once seen, impossible to ignore.
Renji's gaze fixed on it.
"…What actually happened here…?"
Reika didn't answer immediately. Her eyes lingered there for a moment longer before she spoke.
"…My assumption… he was tortured here… then, barely alive… Tetsuo-san was brought to one of my abandoned warehouses… and by the timing from forensic record… he lost his life there…"
The words came out slowly out from her, Renji's jaw tightened, he can only clench his fists.
Who the hell did this to you…? I'll find whoever behind this… I promise…
"…Old man…"
It wasn't loud. Barely even a voice.
Reika then placed her hand over her shoulder, "…Come, Renji… let's take care of this room properly…"
He felt her cold-slender fingers trembled slightly over his shoulder, "…Yeah… let's…"
They worked the same as before, but slower.
Another accounting books went first. Then the drawers—clothes folded neatly, documents stacked, bank notes, hanko, and other small personal belongings.
Things that once meant something.
Things that now meant nothing to anyone but the man who had owned them.
Neither of them commented on what they found.
…I'm sorry…
Only that words keep repeating over and over inside their head.
Packing everything away, and the bed was last. Reika pulling the sheet away and folding it without a word.
Renji helped by moving the cardboard box into the living room. The room emptied piece by piece.
And when there was nothing left to pack, nothing left to move—
They stood there.
Together, quietly bowed once more.
…Thank you… rest in peace…
--------