Does life run on gambling?
It was late at night and it was raining. A few convenience stores and entertainment venues were still open. Aside from the colorful LED lights spilling out of clubs and casinos, there was no other source of light in the dark street. And once again, Akira was in a casino at this hour.
This one was called "Golden Mirage." The previous one had been "Imperial Spade," and before that… well, he always had to switch casinos because he kept getting thrown out of the ones he went to.
He took his first step into gambling when he was fifteen—right after his mother, who couldn't support the household anymore, took her own life. He was gambling illegally back then. Now he was nineteen, and he no longer needed to hide.
And of course— the more you win, the more you lose. He kept winning, and people underestimated him because of his age, challenged him constantly. But Akira's icy blue eyes practically sparkled the moment the dice hit the table. You couldn't beat someone like that. No one did.
Whether it was the mafia or government workers, Akira had enemies everywhere.
As I said—the more you win, the more you lose. Even though he won constantly, he lost his house in a single bet. He was homeless now, but staying in a hotel was too risky. If people were after you for revenge, sleeping in a hotel was practically suicide. So Akira stayed with the only person he could: his childhood friend, Akihiko Yamaguchi. Their mothers had been close friends—before Akira's mother died. Akihiko's mother liked Akira and didn't want him to be alone, so she sent him to stay at her son's place.
Akihiko was completely against it, but in the end, they became roommates. Forced by his mother, basically.
Akihiko was an ordinary medical student—well, not that ordinary. He liked smoking and acting rough. Really rough. He wasn't gentle with Akira at all. Sometimes he even hit him, yet he always protected him against his enemies. When Akira came home beaten up, Akihiko was the one who treated him. He bottled up his emotions, never showed anything. A cold person. He hated dragging Akira out of casinos and keeping him out of trouble.
—
"Yukiteru! What part of this don't you understand, you little shit?! You damned idiot!"
Once again, Akihiko had gone door to door through every casino in the area, searching for Akira. Since Akira always went somewhere different, it was never certain where he'd find him. He grabbed Akira by the arm and threw him out through the casino doors. The cold air hit Akira's face instantly, making him wince.
"Akihiko— ahaha! Don't yell like that! How many times do I have to tell you not to call me by my real name?"
"Shut the hell up! I'll call you whatever I want."
As he said that, he kicked Akira square in the ass, making him stumble forward. Akira reeked of alcohol.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed, Yuki— Akira?! You're seriously going to die one day. What the hell happened to your clothes?"
Akira's usual suit jacket was missing—he had probably left it in the casino. They kept walking down the dark street, each step splashing the rainwater on the ground.
"I just needed a little fun, okay?! Better than suffocating in cigarette smoke at home…"
He mumbled the last part to himself, but Akihiko heard it anyway.
"What did you say, huh?! You should be grateful you even have a home! Even that's too much for an idiot like you."
Still, Akihiko could see how the cold was affecting him. Akira was drunk, and it was freezing.
"Idiot… he must be trying to freeze to death. If he died, I'd finally be free" Akihiko thought.
He opened his hoodie, pulled off his cardigan, and threw it in Akira's face. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking.
"Don't you dare open that damn mouth. Take it. Or freeze to death—I don't care."
Akira grinned and put the cardigan on.
"Come onnn! You were worried about me, admit it. Admit it, Aki."
Akihiko frowned and smacked the back of his head. Akira only laughed.
"Shut up! Didn't I tell you to keep your mouth shut?! And where the hell is your damn jacket? Don't tell me you gambled that away too."
"Haha, no. That's the only jacket I own. I think I left it at the casino… haha…"
He was so drunk he kept giggling at everything. Akihiko looked over at the shorter boy—Akira—who was staring ahead with a dumb grin on his face. He was wearing Akihiko's cardigan, arms crossed tightly over his chest, walking under the glowing lights from the nearby shops that reflected off his black hair.
Akira sensed Akihiko's dark eyes on him and glanced over.
"Don't look at me like that! I said I'm sorry, okay? I apologized."
"I'll look however I want. Shut up. Idiot, you said you'd beat your addiction. I'm not obligated to drag you out of casinos. One day you're going to get killed in some alley, is that what you want? You're still playing with mafia members. Do you have a death wish?!"
Akira let out a sharp breath. He knew he had let Akihiko down. But addiction wasn't something you could just quit overnight.
"Alright, alright… but the mafia is where the real money is. Those bastards bet insane amounts and lose every time. It's not my fault, Aki! They challenge me, and I—"
He stopped. His words were empty excuses anyway.
"Whatever… I guess you're not going to let me leave the house for a while, are you? I hate when you do that… I'm not a kid. I'm 19. And you act like you're my babysitter…"
Akihiko's tone had changed—deeper, quieter, serious.
"Do whatever the hell you want. Is that what you want to hear? Your mother wouldn't want to see you like this, Akira. Even using your real name isn't safe anymore. And you're still chasing 'fun.' If risking your life is fun, tell me now so I can kill you myself. I'll do it, you know I will."
Akira fell silent. He was drunk, but he understood the seriousness. He looked at the passing cars.
"I said okay, Aki. Can't we talk at home? Everything hurts already… I don't have the energy to get lectured out here."
"Whatever… fine."
Akihiko wasn't in the mood to argue either. He kept his hands in his pockets, walking with that usual air of coolness. But it really was cold, and since he had given Akira his cardigan, he was freezing… but he would never admit that.
Absolutely not.
"That idiot would definitely tease me… his voice is annoying enough as itis.." he thought.
"And… the cardigan looks good on him…"
They kept walking, and the rain kept falling. Luckily, they walked along the shopfronts where the awnings shielded them from most of the rain.