SENT FROM @queenoftheboard ―
( unprompted / always accepting )
"I'm betting real money tonight - but there is a little secret," she leaned into him, Eirene's lips seeking his ear next, "I'm only taking a winner to bed - make me proud, darling."Eirene had absolutely refused to tell Daigo anything about her plans - and the ex-yakuza knew when it was futile to press the issue; his wife had a way of smiling and narrowing her eyes slightly that promised retribution if he insisted, so the former chairman behaved for now. Marie was in the capable hands of Saejima and Desmond for the night, after all (an unlikely pair, and yet a constant one - the two had clicked and enjoyed sharing babysitting duties so their loved ones could have time away with each other).
All that the businesswoman had said was for Daigo to be mindful of his clothes and leave the good stuff behind - Eirene had ditched her own long gowns in favor of something covered by a trenchcoat, which was another mystery of their evening. Their car also dropped the two of them at a nondescript location, but seemingly on purpose - the blonde woman took the lead, walking into what appeared an empty building and exchanging a password with a guard at the front.
But soon enough - Daigo understood; it was the front of an underground fighting ring, and the noise of the crowd and the fighters got progressively louder as they descended the stairs. At the arena level, Eirene untied her coat and slipped it off her shoulders - and Daigo could see she had dressed in a similar fashion to the other women in attendance: short dresses, high heels and exuberant jewelry, in her case; the blood red hue of her clothes was no accident.
"I overheard you telling Marie about your youthful days; she might not fully grasp it yet, but I did," the Quinn president said, turning around and knowing that, in that place, they were as good as anonymous; no one cared about business or was likely frequenting these dens at the time Daigo was active, "So I asked Majima-san for help to track the current ring - he still participates, would you believe? A masked man giving novices a run for their money," Eirene chuckled, and placed an open hand (where her wedding ring was the centerpiece) across his broad, strong chest.
"I took the liberty of signing you up under a false name. You are Mr. John Wick for this evening," a clever reference to a movie franchise both of them enjoyed, and there was a devious smile on her face as she said it - it had been perhaps a bolder move than he expected, but it had come from a good place in her soul, "I thought you missed being more than the best husband and father - and I'm confident you can teach everyone here a lesson," she said, finally moving to stand on the tip of her toes and press a feather-light kiss to his lips - a gesture that went unnoticed given the chaotic environment they were in.
Daigo didn't dare press his wife about her surprise. He had changed his outfit as requested ( his second attempt after a suit was a pair of dark jeans and a nice shirt, which Eirene gave a certain little frown at that told him ' no ' ) ; between his guessing and her nonverbal hints, they had settled on a curious mix of athleisure for his attire. The joggers, tennis shoes, and compression shirt with a Wyverns zip - up hoodie were certainly fine street fare and did highlight the ex - yakuza's build nicely, but they only further confused the man.
What could his wife be up to ??
In spite of the many questions churning in his thoughts, Daigo sat back in the car and talked to her about anything else. It was clear to him that this evening was one she had planned rather carefully, so he resolved to be along ( quite literally ) for the ride.
At what appeared to be their final destination, Daigo thanked the driver and walked to Eirene's door to offer his hand. Together, they entered a run - down place that was clearly in need of work. The sight of the obvious guard made Daigo instinctively bristle. He didn't outright say anything to the other individual ― the head of Quinn was more than capable of taking care of herself, he knew ― but his presence behind Eirene was difficult to look past. Once they were seemingly cleared, Daigo breathed easier ; he resisted the urge to place a hand on his wife's hip. This all suddenly possessed an air of work matters to it, and the former Chairman knew his role in that world did not include doting husband.
As they descended the stairs to the real event, Daigo immediately understood what all of this was. He moved slowly, taking in the environment around them with a curious expression on his face. The brilliant pools of light ; strong smell of beer ; clouds of vapor and cigarette smoke ; and roar of the crowd at the grisly acts of violence in front of them ― oh, it was intimately familiar. So much of his early life was spent in shit holes like this, where he could grin like the devil incarnate and vent his anger out by breaking bones while drunk. Even prior to his arrest and subsequent reign as the King of Kamurocho, he was in these pits, releasing the aggression he couldn't while roaming the streets as a poor excuse for a yakuza.
What a difference twenty years made. Once, he would have been here to drink, fight, and perhaps find a pretty individual unopposed to him paying for their company to take to a motel that night. Now, he stood with his wife ― the mother of their child, the love of his life, the empress to which he freely passed his crown at the moment of his retirement ― as a proudly sober, calm, and confident man.
Daigo raised an eyebrow at the unveiling of Eirene's true look. His appreciation for how short her dress was ( as well as the color ) showed instantly in his visage. With that outfit . . . he longed to suggest they leave and find somewhere private, though he kept that sentiment to himself. The ex - yakuza allowed a quick betrayal of their relationship : he brushed his fingertips along her side in admiration of the piece she wore.
"Ah," Daigo said, laughing lightly. "It was because of that little jacket Marie refuses to take off." Coincidentally, a garment the same great - uncle Eirene referred to bought for the girl. "I used to have a white puffer coat like it. My trademark, I guess. Seeing her in it brought back memories."
His wife's next words prompted a soft vocalization of surprise. So that's what this was about. Daigo flicked his gaze over to the ring proper. It was as ill - kept and blood - soaked as ever. This glimpse of the current match assured Daigo that the caliber of combatants he would encounter in those flimsy walls was no different from the fare of two decades previous.
Eirene's explanation for her surprise warmed Daigo's heart. He didn't miss these hellish dens in particular, but that wasn't necessarily the point. Tonight was his wife giving him an evening to revisit the old world and briefly return to another era. Daigo adored his job as a homemaker and stay - at - home father, but there were so many years of his story before that. Eirene, by planning out this affair, was simply saying that she saw the full breadth of the man she married and loved every layer to him. Even those she hadn't lived in Kamurocho to witness. She recognized that the misshapen and scarred knuckles that helped cook her dinner and soothe their fussing daughter used to belong to a national leader, a criminal overlord, a notoriously brutal fighter ― and here, tentatively, was an opportunity for Daigo to embrace the complex identity he carried with him.
The ex - yakuza dared to place his palm to the small of her back to help his beloved balance against him as she issued her final challenge. He chuckled darkly, pressed a kiss as fleeting as the one to his lips against the side of her hair, and waited patiently for her to get on flat feet. Daigo then shrugged out of his comfortable hoodie. With a thoroughly entertained smile, practically cut into his face given the jagged angle, he placed the souvenir item around her shoulders in the same manner he used to bestow his infamous puffer coat to prospective partners prior to his next match.
"I wouldn't dream of disappointing a fan," Daigo said, voice low and tinged with adoration for the fierce woman who put this together for him. "Especially not one this beautiful. I'll make sure nothing I need later when I come to collect my winnings is bruised."
He couldn't resist grazing his hand along the edge of her jaw. Daigo sighed wistfully at the fact that he needed to leave, but he did so inevitably. The ex - yakuza pathed to the managers controlling the ring and announced that the boogeyman was here to fight. A few members of the crowd murmured about Mr. Wick's identity when he made his way in for his first challenge : he looked awfully similar to the previous head of the Tojo Clan. However, their speculation was quickly lost. Without Daigo's tattoo being shown ( as he knew ), it was hard to say that it was him ― and he was too damn good. The onlookers didn't care about who he was if he kept his head down and put on a show. Not that he cared to impress them, of course ; the fact that he won match after match was entirely dedicated to his wife.