Chapter 62: Nobody
When Kenichi Sato pushed open the front door to his home, the time was exactly 7:15 PM.
"Kenichi, you're home early today?"
Yumi poked her head out from the kitchen, a weary but inherently gentle smile gracing her face. Their eight-year-old daughter, Kanon, was in the middle of doing her homework in the living room; seeing her father return, she gleefully ran over and wrapped her arms around his leg.
"Daddy, did you work hard today?"
Kenichi patted his daughter's head. "It wasn't hard at all. Daddy's going to keep working super hard for us."
As he spoke those words, the 50,000 yen check resting inside his pocket let out a faint, crisp rustle.
Yumi walked over, lowering her voice to a soft murmur. "Kenichi... those men showed up again yesterday. I told them you were doing everything you could to find a way, and they said they'd give us one more month..."
Kenichi gave a slow nod. Yumi never raised her voice to blame him, which only amplified the crushing weight of his guilt.
"I'm so sorry, it's all my fault..."
"Don't talk like that, we're a married couple," Yumi said, her hand gently stroking his back. "You're already pushing yourself so hard. I know we can get through this crisis together."
Kenichi's mind drifted back to the cash he had secured from *Weekly Gendai Plus* a few days prior. 50,000 yen. Compared to a 1,000,000 yen debt, it was a drop in the bucket. He could directly dump it into paying off the loan sharks, but it would barely scratch the surface of a fraction of the principal.
Or... he could go out and try his luck. Sato suddenly felt a familiar, nagging itch in his palms.
He still remembered the details surrounding Ai Hoshino perfectly well. If he truly hit a total dead end, he figured outlets like *Weekly Bunshun* or *Josei Jishin* would also be massively interested.
Those were the prominent gossip tabloids he knew of, and they were always the most hyper-fixated on the scandals and background histories of trending artists.
Trading someone else's private trauma for quick cash left Sato with a minor twinge of guilt, but at this stage, he was completely backed into a corner and couldn't afford to care about ethics.
Recalling Ai's features, Kenichi had to admit that now that she had grown up, her beauty had become mind-blowingly extraordinary. Whenever he caught a glimpse of her on television, he would actually fall into a brief daze, his mind wandering back to a decade ago—realizing he had actually lived in close quarters with a star of that caliber. The tiny girl from back then had transformed into an idol adored by tens of thousands.
With looks that spectacular, it was no wonder he had harbored a few sick thoughts he shouldn't have, right? You couldn't lay the blame entirely on his shoulders.
But Sato genuinely harbored immense regret; he never should have let his dark impulses slip, only for Ayumi to catch him red-handed, causing their relationship to detonate.
After the two broke up, he had actually cleared his head a bit, quicking finding a new girlfriend, marrying her, and stepping into the next chapter of his life.
The sudden weight of family responsibility had forced him to pull himself together, gradually transforming him into a functioning member of society.
But certain toxic vices were deeply hardwired. Given a random window of opportunity, he had snuck out to hit his favorite pachinko parlor, and within a blink, he had plummeted straight back to rock bottom.
The next morning, Kenichi headed out to work at Chiba Building Materials Co., Ltd. exactly as he always did. He was completely out of it the entire morning, his brain entirely occupied by mapping out which pachinko parlor he should hit up tonight. That 50,000 yen check felt like it was physically burning a hole through his pocket, keeping him in a constant state of restless agitation.
In the afternoon, the section chief called him into the office for another chewing out, telling him his sales numbers were garbage and that if he didn't fix things fast, he'd be transferred. Kenichi nodded and bowed like a servant while kissing up to him on the outside, but his mind was already completely checked out, focusing entirely on his plans for tonight.
50,000 yen was fundamentally not enough. If he used it to directly service the debt, it would only cover a sliver of the accumulating interest, and the loan would simply balloon right back up a few days later.
As long as he could lock in a winning streak of a few hundred thousand tonight, the debt issue would be fully resolved.
He'd wipe the slate clean, and from there on out, he'd live a completely honest life and provide a stable home for Kanon.
After clocking out, Kenichi wrestled with his thoughts the entire walk home. The neon lights of the pachinko parlor strobed violently right before his eyes, the familiar electronic sound effects mimicking a siren song that pulled him in.
"Sato-san, back again, I see," the front desk staff noted, recognizing him instantly.
Kenichi pulled out the 50,000 yen.
Two hours later, the money was completely gone. Kenichi sat paralyzed in front of the pachinko machine, staring blankly at the "GAME OVER" flashing on the digital display as hot tears began to stream down his face.
"Sato-san, all tapped out of cash?"
A chillingly familiar voice drifted over from right behind him. Kenichi whipped his head around, spotting the buzzcut loan shark.
"Tanaka-san..."
"Save the explanations, I watched the whole thing," Tanaka said, shaking his head. "Sato-san, you cannot keep crashing out like this."
They escorted Kenichi out to the alleyway beside the parlor.
"Sato-san, your current tab with us stands at 500,000," Tanaka said, his tone shockingly measured. "Want to pull out a bit more? You need capital if you ever want to win your way back to even, right?"
"I'm not borrowing anymore, I'll find a way to pay you back," Kenichi pleaded, practically falling to his knees. "I beg of you, just give me a sliver of time."
"We have already granted you a massive amount of time," Tanaka said, delivering a firm pat to Kenichi's shoulder. "Before next Friday, we need to see at least 200,000. Otherwise..."
Tanaka left the threat hanging, but Kenichi understood perfectly.
"I get it, I'll make it happen no matter what."
Once Tanaka and his crew cleared out, Kenichi stood entirely isolated on the street corner, finding the night wind exceptionally freezing.
He caught a distinct sensation that someone was monitoring him from the shadows, but sweeping his eyes across the dark perimeter, he uncovered absolutely nothing.
A short distance away, tucked into a dark corner, Hikaru and the group—who had been hunting for two straight days—were secretly watching him.
"Is that him?" Hikaru murmured, his lips barely moving.
"That's him," Ichigo said with a nod, the corner of his mouth curling up.
Hikaru made a quick throat-slitting gesture. Ichigo caught it instantly, smirking as he nodded back.
The two slung their arms over each other's shoulders and melted back into the shadows.
The next day, Kenichi dragged himself to work. He was completely out of it all day, nearly messing up a few times.
By evening, he was shuffling home completely exhausted, his mind spinning over how to explain last night to his wife and how to deal with the loan sharks.
The second he stepped into a narrow, quiet alley, a hand shot out from the dark and grabbed his arm like a vice.
"Sato, right? Come with me."
Kenichi was dragged deep into the alley. Under the dim streetlamp, he saw a man dressed in black, wearing sunglasses.
"Who... who are you?"
"I'm Ichigo Saitou from Strawberry Productions," the man said, sliding his shades down. "I want to talk to you about Ai Hoshino."
Kenichi's blood went ice-cold. "I... I don't know what you're talking about..."
"Drop the act, Sato-san," Ichigo said, stepping closer. "I've already tracked everything down. Who else besides you knows that much detail about Ai's childhood?"
"I really don't know..."
"Still playing dumb! Don't make me get rough," Ichigo snapped.
He cracked his knuckles loudly. "Let's see, Sato. How much do you owe? 500,000 to the pachinko parlor, and another 500,000 on credit cards. Exactly one million yen total."
Ichigo's voice was dead calm, but it made Sato freeze. Even his wife didn't fully know those numbers.
"You have a wife and kid, you work at Chiba Building Materials, and your daughter, Kanon, is a second-grader at Kisarazu Third Elementary," Ichigo continued smoothly. "We know everything about you."
"What... what do you want?" A chill ran down Sato's spine.
"What do we want?" Ichigo sneered. He grabbed Sato by the collar, slamming him against the wall. "You idiot. You thought you could sell out our talent and get away with it?"
Sato's back hit the wall hard, a sharp pain shooting through him. "I just needed money to pay my debts..."
"Do you know what kind of company Strawberry Productions is?" Ichigo looked vicious. "We have plenty of muscle, and we have deep ties to the Tokyo underground. The Yamaguchi-gumi, the Sumiyoshi-kai... we have connections everywhere."
Sato turned pale, cold sweat dripping down his face. The busy main street was just a short distance away, but right now it felt like a whole different world.
"With one phone call, I can have someone break your legs, pour concrete over you, and dump you into Tokyo Bay," Ichigo whispered. "Do you think the cops will care about a missing gambler?"
"Please, don't..."
"And your sweet wife? We work with plenty of red-light shops in Kabukicho," the blonde president continued ruthlessly. "As for your daughter... I won't touch an eight-year-old girl, but that doesn't mean she'll have an easy life. Once her family is gone, she'll just rot in an orphanage."
"Stop it!" Sato screamed. "Are you monsters?!"
"Monsters?" Ichigo let go of his collar and patted his cheek, smiling. "We're just business owners. You hurt our business, so you have to pay up."
Sato's legs shook so much he could barely stand. "Please spare my family... I'll do anything..."
"Anything?" Ichigo paused, acting like he was thinking it over.
"Yes!" Sato sobbed. "I'll pay you back, I swear I'll never talk to the media again..."
Looking at the shivering middle-aged man, Ichigo's expression changed.
He totally fell for it, Ichigo thought. The act was done. He didn't actually know any mobsters, and if he kept going, it would be hard to wrap up.
"There's another option," Ichigo said tentatively, bringing up the plan they had made beforehand. "I'll become your new loan shark."
Sato looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I'll pay off your high-interest debt, but it's not a freebie. You're just switching who you owe," Ichigo chuckled.
He had wanted to just clear the debt for him, since a million yen was nothing to the company. But Hikaru had pointed out that if things were too easy, it would feel like a miracle from the sky. If the debt vanished without any effort, Sato wouldn't learn his lesson and would probably gamble again. They weren't his parents; they didn't need to bail him out completely.
"The terms are simple. One, never talk about Ai to the media again. Two, you pay me back. The interest rate will match standard bank rates, so don't slack off." Ichigo looked serious again. "My patience is thin."
Sato quickly calculated it. Bank rates were way cheaper than loan sharks and wouldn't snowball. With his salary, he could pay it off in a little over a year.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Helping you?" Ichigo scoffed. "I just don't want Ai's info getting out. Do you think killing someone is clean and easy? Or do you want to choose the other path?"
Thinking of his wife and daughter, Sato almost cried again. "No, no... I mean... you're incredibly generous."
Ichigo pulled out a pre-made contract. "Sign it. Tomorrow we'll settle your debt, but remember, you still owe the money."
Sato signed it with shaking hands. "Thank you for your mercy!" He bowed deeply.
"Don't thank me," Ichigo said, pocketing the paper. "Pay on time, stay away from gambling, and if you betray us again..." He left it at that.
"I know, I won't ever do it again," Sato nodded quickly. "I'll work hard and take care of my family."
"Remember those words," Ichigo said. "We'll be watching."
He turned and walked away, leaving Sato alone. Once Ichigo was far enough, two figures quickly popped out and followed him, the three of them looking incredibly suspicious as they hurried back to the hotel.
The moment Hikaru closed the door, Ichigo let out a massive sigh of relief.
"Are you really a company president?" Hikaru teased immediately. "You looked exactly like a mob enforcer out there. You were so natural at it, how many times have you done that? Or were you actually a thug before this?"
Ai agreed, nodding along. "Totally! If the president had approached me on the street like that back then, I would've signed with the agency immediately."
"Well, if you didn't, your legs would've been broken," Hikaru laughed.
Ichigo's eye twitched. "Have you two brats said enough?!"
"I went out there and played the bad guy just to protect Ai, and you're both standing here making jokes," Ichigo muttered, glaring at Hikaru. "You ungrateful brat. You definitely corrupted her."
"Of course I did," Hikaru admitted without a shred of shame. "But isn't it great like this?"
Ichigo realized he couldn't do a thing against this guy's thick skin.
"I think it's great!" Ai chimed in with a huge grin. "At least it was a ton of fun!"
Since Hikaru had shown up, her life had suddenly become so much more colorful. Compared to the stiff, manufactured days of being a regular idol in B-Komachi, this felt like a real, normal life.
"As long as you're happy," Ichigo sighed, but his eyes showed a soft, relieved warmth.
The three of them looked at each other, and a second later, they all burst out laughing at the exact same time.
Yeah, maybe things are perfect just like this, Ichigo thought.
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