Dazai and Chuuya looked up at the same time and met Yamamoto’s gaze.
“…You’re so tall!” Chuuya blurted out. “How tall are you?”
Dazai would never pass up an opportunity to mock Chuuya. His tone was sharp, with just a hint of fake sympathy. “People always long for what they don’t have. Like how the little forest dwarf Chuuya gets jealous whenever he sees someone taller than him.”
Chuuya clenched his fists. “Bastard Dazai, what did you just say?!”
“I’m just telling the truth. Why are you getting so angry, Chuuya?”
Human joys and sorrows were never the same. I just found them noisy.
Hirotsu had long since grown used to the Port Mafia’s two young Executives bickering at every opportunity, but with a guest present, he still found it rather embarrassing. Looking apologetic, he said to Yamamoto, “My sincerest apologies, Mr. Yamamoto. I hope they haven’t made a fool of themselves in front of you.”
“It’s fine.” Yamamoto smiled, unconcerned. “Our family has a younger Guardian who’s even noisier than those two. As for my height…” Chuuya immediately looked at him expectantly. “About one meter ninety. I stopped paying much attention to it after I became an adult.”
Chuuya continued curiously, “How did you grow so tall?”
Yamamoto rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… Playing baseball, drinking milk, eating lots of food, I guess? Hahaha, honestly, I don’t really know.”
The two chatted pleasantly. Yamamoto had an open, cheerful personality that naturally put people at ease, leaving Chuuya with an excellent first impression.
Hirotsu chose that moment to remind them, “Mr. Dazai, Mr. Chuuya, the Boss is still waiting for the two of you.”
Dazai spread his hands. “Isn’t it because Chuuya got so caught up chatting with the Vongola’s Rain Guardian that we couldn’t leave?”
“My bad, my bad. Sorry for holding you up.” Yamamoto waved at them. “I should get going too. See you!”
After Yamamoto and Hirotsu left, Dazai and Chuuya could still vaguely hear their conversation.
“Mr. Yamamoto, you’re very good at socializing.”
“Really? Thanks for the compliment, Mr. Hirotsu.”
After taking a few steps, Chuuya realized Dazai wasn’t following him. He turned around to find Dazai standing there with his back to him, staring after Hirotsu and Yamamoto until they disappeared from sight before finally turning around and walking over.
“What are you looking at?” Chuuya asked.
“Nothing.” Dazai shrugged. “I was just thinking… he’s in the Mafia too, but he’s so refreshingly wholesome. It’s honestly kind of annoying.”
Chuuya immediately threw Dazai’s own words back at him. “You’re just jealous, aren’t you? Since you’re nothing but a puddle of black mud, you’re envious of someone like him.”
“Using my own words against me? No wonder you’ll never grow any taller, Chuuya.”
“What does that have to do with my height?!”
They had already walked quite a distance away, so Yamamoto and Hirotsu couldn’t hear the two of them arguing anymore.
Just before they parted ways, however, Yamamoto brought them up again.
“By the way, those two we met earlier are the young Executives the Boss Mori mentioned, right? The pair known as Double Black. Mr. Hirotsu even used honorifics with them.”
“Yes,” Hirotsu nodded. “Their personalities don’t get along very well, but they’re an exceptionally compatible partnership.”
While speaking with Mori Ogai, Yamamoto had learned their names, but since Hirotsu hadn’t introduced them just now, he couldn’t match the names to the faces.
Well, it wasn’t anything important anyway, Takeshi Yamamoto thought.
When they reached the entrance of the Port Mafia headquarters, Yamamoto stopped and said to Hirotsu, “You can see me off here. Thank you, Mr. Hirotsu.”
“You’re too kind.” Hirotsu smiled. “You still have somewhere else to be, don’t you, Mr. Yamamoto?”
“That’s right.” Yamamoto nodded. “I have a personal appointment. I’ll be taking my leave.”
After saying goodbye to Hirotsu, Yamamoto left the Port Mafia headquarters.
Once inside his car, he placed his sword on the back seat before taking a folded slip of paper from the inside pocket of his suit.
A phone number was written on it.
He took out his phone and dialed the number.
It took a full thirty seconds before someone answered. A young woman’s voice came through the line, sounding a little nervous.
“H-Hello…”
“Is this Ringo?”
When Yamamoto’s call came through, Ringo was almost at the movie theater.
As someone with severe social anxiety, Ringo also suffered from phone anxiety. Whenever her phone rang, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
It was even worse when the caller ID showed an unfamiliar number.
She spent a full thirty seconds mentally preparing herself before finally answering with trembling fingers.
A man’s voice greeted her naturally by name. It sounded strangely familiar, as though she’d heard it somewhere before, but she couldn’t quite place it.
Carefully, she asked, “May I ask who’s calling?”
“You can’t tell who I am?” the man laughed. “Well, I suppose it has been a long time.”
Ringo immediately became alert.
Is this one of those ‘It’s me!’ phone scams?
Taking a deep breath, she declared firmly, “I don’t have any money!”
Yamamoto froze for a second after hearing that.
…What was she talking about?