Hiruma Yuuya came into the bar he always frequented on Friday nights, wearing nothing but his usual brown business suit. As usual, Yuuya had his brown hair combed back in a professional style, it made his pointed ears look little less strange. Because the bar was particularly full today, Yuuya had little choice but to sit down next to between a woman he correctly assumed was a hooker and a man in a black suit. The hooker was very interested in the man on her left while the black suited man had set his head on his arms and looked like he was sleeping on the counter. Yuuya didn’t pay the other patrons any more attention once he decided that he wasn’t going to be having a confrontation with either of them.

 

            “Ah, the usual today?” The bald, skinny barkeep asked. Yuuya had frequented this bar for years, which made him a regular with his usual drink.

 

            “Yes.”

 

            “Hit me, fucker.” The man in the black suit demanded on Yuuya’s right.

 

            “No.” The barkeep shook his head and proceeded to make Yuuya’s drink.

 

            “…What happened to him?” Yuuya asked the barkeep quietly, eyeing the black haired, black suited man wearily.

 

            “Not sure. He came in here pissed as hell, demanded drinks then got himself into a drunken stupor.” The barkeep explained as he handed Yuuya his drink. “We get folks like him on occasion, don’t pay him any mind.”

 

            “I know.” Yuuya was about to nod when he got a good look at the suited man’s ear; it was pointed. Yuuya’s gut filled with a little bit of dread, there was only one person he knew that had black hair and pointed ears.

 

            “Yuuya-san, are you alright?” The barkeep asked him.

 

            At the word ‘Yuuya’ the black suited man’s pointy ear twitched. Slowly the man pulled himself back up into a proper sitting position and turned and faced Yuuya. There were no longer any doubts, now that Yuuya could see his face, that he was sitting next to his son, Hiruma Youichi. Said son was currently glaring something fierce and was pissed drunk, Yuuya sincerely hoped he’d be able to get home today fairly free of injury.

 

            “Youichi.” Yuuya acknowledged his son.

 

            “Take me fucking home.” Youichi demanded.

 

            “Pardon?” Yuuya blinked, not expecting that.

 

            “I’m fucking drunk, take me home.” Youichi growled. Yuuya didn’t need to be told twice. He set his drink down.

 

            “Put it all on my tab.” Yuuya told he surprised barkeep as he stood up. Youichi stood up and stumbled around, as was expected of someone who was drunk off his ass. Yuuya carefully watched his son make his way out onto the street. They walked about a block when Youichi stopped in front of a car.

 

            “That’s the fucking car.” Youichi announced as he pulled out the keys and shoved them in his father’s hand. Yuuya unlocked the car and got inside. Youichi got in the passenger’s seat, still glaring at anything in front of him.

 

            “…Are you still where I last left you?” Yuuya asked, not starting the car until he knew where he was trying to drive.

 

            “Yeah.” Youichi answered, it came out more as an affirmative grunt. Yuuya started the engine and drove them to Youichi’s apartment. Once inside the parking garage Youichi muttered a space number and Yuuya obligingly pulled the car into it. Both men got out of the car and Yuuya locked it.

 

            “…Here are your keys.” Yuuya held out the car keys. Youichi snatched them without much effort and began to make his way across the parking garage. Not knowing what else to do, Yuuya followed his son. Youichi led them to an elevator that took them up to the floor he lived on.

 

            “…Something happened.” Yuuya remarked as he observed his son glaring at inanimate objects instead of himself. The fact that Youichi had found something to be pissed about more than his shitty relationship with Yuuya was a remarkable feat.

 

            “Fucking hag bribed the jury.” Youichi hissed.

 

            Yuuya didn’t comment, he had held himself to the promise that he would not interfere with his son’s life after Youichi agreed to the arranged marriage. The last time he had seen Youichi three weeks after Emiko had been born.

 

            “Fucking hag!” Youichi punched the elevator wall, denting it in his anger. Yuuya was startled by his son’s strength and by the suddenness of the punch.

 

            “…Where’s Emiko-chan?” Yuuya asked, faintly wondering if his grandchild was somehow involved.

 

            “Fucking hag took her away….” Youichi hissed, his body starting to shake with unshed tears.

 

            Yuuya wasn’t stupid, it didn’t take him long to figure out what had happened. Saburo had gotten into a custody battle with Youichi over Emiko. She must have won, but only by cheating it seemed.

 

            The chime told them they arrived at the right floor. Yuuya followed his son out into the hall, thoughtful. If there was one thing Youichi really did sincerely care about, it was his daughter. Yuuya knew Saburo’s husband extremely well, they were business partners after all. One of the few things that Yuuya knew about Saburo’s wife, mainly through her husband’s griping, was that she wanted everything just so. And with Saburo bedridden, there was no one to tell her life couldn’t be just so.

 

            That included taking her grandchild away from her father so that the girl’s life would be just so.

 

            “…Are you going to do something about it?” Yuuya asked as Youichi fumbled with his keys. Choosing not to respond in favor of getting the fucking key in the fucking lock, Youichi continued to try and open his door. After a few minutes the door finally opened and Youichi walked inside. With some serious hesitation and probably against his better judgment, Yuuya followed his son.

 

            “Fuck yeah.” Youichi finally answered as he threw himself onto the couch, not having bothered to take his shoes off. Yuuya shut the door and took his shoes off then walked into the living room. The floor had a few stuffed animals and a tea set scattered across the floor. There was a decently large TV against one wall with a large video and DVD catalogue on its left. It did not surprise Yuuya how many football related movies his son owned.

 

            Youichi had outfitted his living room with three simple pieces of furniture, a couch, a coffee table, and a large fat chair that currently housed a football rather than a person. The walls were covered with pictures of Chizue, Youichi, and Emiko all three smiling for various reasons. On the coffee table sat an opened photo album which currently had pictures of Youichi smiling like a fool while he hugged his smiling daughter from behind.

 

            “What are you planning?” Yuuya asked.

 

            “To wait till I’m more fucking sober.” Youichi announced.

 

            “…Can I watch the trial?” Yuuya asked as he eyed the laptop on the coffee table.

 

            “Number 330485-D671.” Youichi answered as he got up and stumbled into the kitchen. Yuuya assumed his son was just making some coffee to sober up a little. With practiced movements, Yuuya turned on the laptop and began hacking into the government’s files. Within about 15 minutes, Yuuya had the trial playing over the internet.

 

            Youichi had made a solid case and Saburo had made a fool of herself. Yuuya, like the rest of the courtroom, thought that Youichi had won the suit. The jury, which looked nervous, was made up of old women and they proclaimed that they thought custody should go to Saburo.

 

            The judge’s frown said enough, there was something there that stunk. Something extremely unfair and no one made a move to protest. Youichi himself had simply stared, his expression one of complete disbelief. Yuuya closed the video and the laptop and waited for his son to reappear. Youichi handed him a mug of steaming black coffee and Yuuya took it, feeling bitter inside.

 

            “…Let me know if you need help.” Yuuya told his son as he drank his coffee.

 

            “You fucking help?” Youichi raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Where the fuck was that help earlier!?”

 

            “…There isn’t an answer to that question that either of us want to hear.” Yuuya reminded his son. “My cell number hasn’t changed, you can call me if you need me.”

 

            With two quick gulps, Yuuya finished his coffee and began to leave the apartment. The man stopped in the doorway before he put his shoes on. Youichi followed him, watching his father wearily.

 

            “…Emiko deserves you,” Yuuya told his son, “because you’re a real father.”

 

            Youichi turned away and did not watch his father leave. He walked back into his bedroom and pushed his wardrobe to the left. The wall revealed that it had a safe installed into it. With practiced ease, Youichi opened the safe and pulled out the one thing inside it: a dusty black notebook with a cream colored bat on the top.

 

            “I know I promised you that I wouldn’t use this again,” Youichi talked to the picture of Chizue behind him, “but it’s for Emiko’s sake. You would have wanted what was best for her.”

 

            The safe shut with a very final sounding clang.