Happy Birthday, Boss | Koji Shindo (feat. Akira Nishikiyama)
Genre: Slice of Life/Fluff Rating: Gen Word count: 2.3K Character(s): Koji Shindo, Akira Nishikiyama, background OCs
Read on AO3
Despite the patriarch's ever changing temperment, Shindo risks it all to ensure that his boss' birthday is celebrated.
The energy surging through the Nishikiyama Family Office in the last few days had been nothing short of pandemonium. Nevertheless, Shindo managed. After all, it was his own fault that he had been stretched so thin. As Patriarch Nishikiyama’s right hand man, his work couldn’t fall to the wayside, no matter how chaotic his own personal schedule became– not unless he wanted to rouse suspicion.
He’d done well up to this point, but honestly, he was relieved that the day had come. He hated hiding shit from him. With each passing day, he grew anxious that the patriarch would smell something fishy and lash out before even allowing him an opportunity to explain himself.
The boss had become more volatile by the day and Shindo couldn’t always predict what might set the man off. Respect was what drove him to swear up but fear… Fear was what kept him honest– what kept him in line.
Even so, he rationalized as he arranged Patriarch Nishikiyama’s agenda for the day that a white lie or two wouldn’t offend much, so long as he made it all worth it in the end.
Shindo knew that if the boss had no pressing matters to tend to outside of the office, he would remain behind that mahogany desk brooding for hours and unfortunately, he needed him out of the way until evening.
If he didn’t play his cards right, there would be no luring the boss to a secondary location– not unless that secondary location was his home and of course, Shindo knew better than showing up at the boss’ house unannounced.
He scheduled two of Patriarch Nishikiyama’s more important, lengthy off-site meetings for late morning and mid-afternoon, then “dinner” that evening. The choice words the boss had for him as he rattled off the agenda was… colorful, to say the least but, ducking his head in apology, he told himself that this was the one instance with his boss where it was easier to ask forgiveness than to ask for permission.
After having big meetings like that back to back, he knew full well that his boss would want to leave the evening open and spend the rest of it at home, tending to the migraine he would inevitably get from listening to “idiots blabbing nonstops” for hours. However, after the casual mention of a particular name, the boss quickly changed his tune.
It was what Shindo had intended. He didn’t know much of the men's history but he had noticed over the years that that one old man was an individual that Patriarch Nishikiyama never spoke against meeting with short notice. In fact, the boss inconvenienced himself numerous times to see to it that he kept his word.
The dinner plans were mostly a fabrication, though. He hoped that little detail would be more than enough to save his head from being lobbed off.
Shindo flipped through the stack of pages on his desk, busy work left for him by the big man himself. He worked tirelessly since dawn to get through it all. He needed to save himself enough time in the afternoon to ensure the real plans went off without a fucking hitch. Quite literally, he couldn’t afford for tonight to fail. He spared no expense in making sure of that.
There were flies coming out of his wallet at this point.
He pressed his hanko onto the final page, slapped the folder shut, slid it across the thick glass desk top then pushed up the sleeve of his coat to check the Rolex strapped around his wrist.
Good timing, he thought.
So long as things moved according to schedule, the boss should have been entering his mid-day meeting right about now. That bought him more than enough time to head to a meeting of his own and work out any unexpected kinks, if necessary.
Shindo was experiencing a bout of anxiety he only ever got when he was under immense pressure– pressure to impress Patriarch Nishikiyama, that is. He rolled away the tension building in his shoulders and neck as the rhythmic clack of his italian shoes echoed down the dim, quiet corridor. He trusted that the feeling would pass once he was certain that everything was in its intended place but there were so many moving parts and he couldn’t have his hands on all of them.
It was tough surrendering control to the others, but he had no other choice. He had to believe that the others would pull their weight and he had to breathe. If he didn't stay on his game, he could easily slip and miss catching a mistake that would cost him everything.
The silence of his beeper the past few hours should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t. It distressed him. If there was one thing he knew about this world, it was that silence wasn’t always golden– not with the band of fools he was forced to rely on.
When Shindo pushed the dark tinted door open, he released the deep breath he had no clue he had even been holding. His dark eyes bounced across the large banquet hall, dressed in warm reds, golds, creamy tans and black. There were bouquets of balloons with golden ribbon hanging from the high ceiling as well as a garland framing the buffet table. Streamers swirled around thick, pale marble pillars. A long, narrow area rug spilled wine red from the entrance, below the welcome arch until it cut between the two lengthy rectangular dining tables set for 12 each. Square and circular tables set for four and six, filled most of the remaining space.
There was a small stage ahead of the dining area that boasted a dark backdrop with grand flower bouquets matching the color scheme and a single microphone standing front and center. Each dark-clothed table held one to three floating candle centerpieces with a thin, golden artificial plant inside. There was a table set aside for gifts next to the bar which had yet to be occupied by the evening’s bartender and another set aside for a 10 tiered cake.
Near the wall, not far from the stage was a cozy booth and table that had the widest view of the room. It was decorated much like the rest but preset with an unopened bottle of the boss’ favorite whiskey and a stack of glasses.
From where he stood, he could see a shiny, black ponytail swishing in the merlot colored booth. His lips curved as he took slow strides toward the owner of it.
“Looking good in here, Shizuka-chan.” he said, his deep voice cutting through the silence and startling the woman enough to cause her to drop her lighter. He held up his hands, half apologetic.
“Ah, Shindo-san…” she sighed, grabbing the lighter and flicking it above a tea light in a glass votive. “You’re early.”
“I got started as soon as I could…How’s it going?” he asked, shoving his hands deep into his gray pant pockets, craning his neck to make a show of admiring the room. “You and the girls did good. Helluva lot better than me and mine would’ve done. Guess I really did need a ladies’ touch to pull this shit off.”
The woman scooted out of the seat, remaining a distance from him. Her thin red lips pursed as she gave the table a final lookover.
“Yes, well. Thanks to you, I was able to hire a more than capable team.”
“No kidding.” he nodded.
Shizuka was the manager of his event center. Shindo hired her half a year ago, after purchasing the building and getting it cleaned up. The woman was the face of the business, but she merely acted as a liaison between him and the customers interested in renting the place out. She was meant to help hide his stench. It was better that civilians interact with a friendly face instead of himself and risk unwanted attention because the common folk associated the place with yakuza.
He learned that from the boss.
He did wonder if hosting an event– the first real event– for the patriarch was risky for future business but it was the least he could do to thank the boss for everything. After all, it was for the man’s birthday!
He couldn’t think of a better grand opening than that.
“Where’s the rest of the folks?”
“I sent them on break,” she said, checking her wristwatch then staring back up at him with her beady eyes. “Shall we go over the checklist to ensure that everything is as you requested?”
“Why not?” he shrugged with an air of nonchalance despite finding a bit of relief upon hearing those words.
“Very well. I’ll go and get my checklist from the back office.” she said, clomping away in her shiny black mary janes.
Shindo watched her wide figure slowly disappear across the room. Just as he was about to settle himself into the booth, the door he watched her enter burst open. He quickly returned to his feet and he could feel the glare wrinkling his face.
“The hell–?!”
“Thank god you’re here, Cap!” one of his juniors rushed toward him, “Cap, I need your backup on this!”
The younger man spoke in a rushed cadence, sounding almost out of breath. In his hands were a few crumpled papers. Another man stomped in behind him, pushing his sunglasses to his forehead to look the captain in the eye.
“Captain’s gonna side with me on this, I keep tellin’ you.” the other said, his voice raspy and laced with annoyance.
Shindo sucked in a sharp breath as he stared down at them. He didn’t know what the issue was but he still felt vindicated when he noted the winded one’s distraught face. It had been far too quiet. He had known something would come up.
“What?” he asked, annoyance slicing through the word on exhale.
“I keep tellin’ this idiot that we need more chicks on the guest list.” the one using sunglasses for a headband said. “The boss’s gonna think he showed up at a damn sausagefest. We need some girls. I know a few hostesses that–”
Shindo snatched the wrinkled list and his eyes skimmed column after column of names. Most of the attendees were male, yes, but they were some of the family whose company he knew the boss didn’t mind– ones that mostly knew how to behave in a public setting and wouldn’t set the man off when he was intending to help him wind down. There were a handful of female attendees on the list as well. Women hand picked based on what they meant to the boss. These were women he knew that while the man might not say it, he would actually be delighted to see, especially the one who had agreed to perform tonight.
“No, no hostesses.” Shindo said definitively.
While he would personally prefer to see a gaggle of good looking ladies show up to tonight’s soiree in spades, he knew that the boss would quickly grow annoyed when a band of women with dollar signs for eyes came in, lying through their teeth and pressing up against him– there'd be no one around to impress tonight. There was no need.
He wanted to stick with the plan Shizuka presented, one she referred to as a large, but intimate gathering. That seemed to suit the boss’ preferences and temperament these days rather than him being shoved into a room full of half strangers intending to schmooze. It was probably best to reserve that sort of thing for obligatory events the boss needed to attend for work, rather than one for leisure.
“But, Captain Sh–”
“I said no fucking extra girls, got it?” he spat, then shoved the papers back into the other man’s hands.
“Thanks, Cap.”
“Yes, sir…”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Alright,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “Go help in the back. I want the cake out before he turns up.”
“Yes, sir.”
Shindo checked his Rolex again then brought his rough hand up to stroke at his stubbly chin, once again sighing. Was he annoyed that the guys took it upon themselves to make an attempt at the job he pays Shizuka for only hours before the party began?
Yes.
However, he did find strange relief that that was the extent of his problems. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he headed toward the back to supervise and make sure that he didn't have any larger fires to put out.
When Shindo felt his beeper go off in his pocket, he was looking over the items at the bar for the third time, ensuring it had everything he ordered for tonight. He dug into his coat pocket and checked the message waiting for him. It was the guard that accompanied the boss and chauffeur, letting him know that they would be arriving soon. The next string of digits were meant to warn him that the boss was already aggravated, likely because the chauffeur passed the restaurant he was under the impression he was due at.
A corner of his lips curled and an amused scoff pushed through his nose. Not long til’ showtime, he thought.
He turned to face the room, much louder than it was when he first arrived a couple hours ago. The majority of the attendees had arrived and broken off into smaller groups throughout the room, chatting and laughing amongst themselves– all awaiting his signal. He pocketed the beeper and headed toward the stage.
His heart was pounding now.
When he tapped the microphone to ensure it was live, an unpleasant squeal echoed through the room and silenced the guests.
“Uh,” he said, frowning at the sound of his own voice surrounding him. “The boss’ll be here any minute now. Someone shut these lights off. Everybody get in place and shut the hell up. Let’s not screw this up.”
It didn’t take long for the crowd to disperse and scramble around the room. He carefully stepped off the stage and narrowed his eyes as he checked the crowd for a specific person and once he spotted them, he closed in. The lights lowered as he got closer as if waiting for him specifically.
Only one light remained, the one cascading down from the high ceiling, above the strategically placed welcome arch.
When the door opened, he could faintly hear the guard's voice apologizing to their boss as he led him through the dim room. Shindo noted the patriarch’s tight, downturned and sour expression as they led him below the arch, his eyes yet to adjust.
Suddenly the lights flipped on and every voice in the facility shouted out “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
Nishikiyama was startled to stone.
He didn’t intend to stand there for as long as he had. It took him a while to process what he had walked into, even as he scanned the sea of familiar, smiling faces in the room. Everyone was well dressed, even his boys that he typically had to reprimand for being slouches. Even the room had been dressed to impress. For a moment, he didn’t even recognize it as the shabby event hall, he coached Koji through purchasing.
It wasn’t until he spotted the long banner hanging above the stage that read: “Happy Birthday, Boss!” that he dipped his head and let out a soft chuckle.
He could recognize that handwriting anywhere.
“You idiots…”
The muscles in his face relaxed ever so slightly and though a smile didn’t break across his face, it did curl his lips and wrinkled the corners of his eyes.
“I… appreciate it.” he nodded, and was immediately met with whooping cheers.
He spotted Koji halfway across the room in a suit not dissimilar from his own and heads taller than the man beside him.
“Koji…”
Taking his cue, he emerged from the crowd cautiously leading a man many years his senior across the room. A rare gentleness softened the boss’ features as he watched Koji lead the elderly man to the arch, one hand around his wrist and the other resting light against his shoulder.
In truth, once his eyes locked onto the man’s face, everything else practically gained invisibility. Finally, he allowed himself to smile, a real genuine smile, when the old man parted his lips to speak and though it took him a while to get the words out, Nishikiyama predicted what was coming.
“Well… happy birthday, ya lil’ shit!” the old man smiled a toothless grin back at him.
“Old man Uehara, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked through a hearty laugh and had he not been so locked into this moment, he might have noticed the silence that swept across the room in response to that rare sound.
“The hell am I doin’ here? Ya think I’d suddenly forget your birthday? My mind ain’t gone yet–” he scolded but there was an affection behind his rough tone that matched the affection in Nishikiyama’s. “It takes one of these chuckleheads ta show up at my door just so I can celebrate with ya?”
He chuckled, lowering his head in a bow to the elder. “Sorry...” and he meant it.
“Forget about it. Lemme give ya–” Uehara turned to look over his shoulder, his hand gently shaking from tremors. “Where’s that boy with the damn box?”
Nishikiyama’s eyes flicked across the faces of those still watching on, silently trying to figure out what Uehara was talking about. Someone stepped forward with a small, rectangular, diligently wrapped box and placed it into the old man’s unsteady hands.
It pained Nishikiyama to see the man trembling before him. He knew that it was largely the result of the stroke the old man suffered half a year ago but it still sent a pang of guilt surging through his chest.
“Here,” Uehara said, extending the box with both hands and Nishikiyama recognized it immediately. “My wife’s recipe… It’s not nearly as good as her’s were but–”
He placed his hands on each of Uehara's, temporarily steadying them. The old man said the same line about his homemade confections for as long as Nishikiyama had been receiving them– a good 15 years now. He’d never even had his wife’s confections but if they were even better than what the old man was capable of, he’d wager it was a good thing he didn’t or he might have been toothless too.
“I’m grateful, Uehara-san…” he nodded, holding his gaze. “I’m sorry that I made you travel such a long way, but thank you for bringing them to me.”
“'The hell is this formal shit? And maybe if ya’d come by on your birthday like I tell ya then I wouldn’t have to!”
He chuckled, “Yeah, yeah…”
Uehara allowed him to take the box from him, then tapped his cool, shaky hand against Nishikiyama’s cheek, who leaned down to keep him from straining.
“And get some damn rest sometime, kid. Ya look like ya ain’t had a decent night’s sleep in years!”
“So you always say.” He chuckled again, “I’ll try my best, old man.”
When he removed his hand from his cheek, Nishikiyama straightened his posture and his expression hardened when he met Koji’s eye. He didn’t have to say a word. He relied on Koji the way he did because he knew how to anticipate his needs without much direction.
Koji bowed his head, “I’ll see to it that Uehara-san arrives home safely, boss. Don’t sweat it!”
“The hell ya will!” the old man snapped, “I ain’t leavin’ til his punk has a drink with me. He owes me that damn much.”
“Some things never change, do they, old man?” Nishikiyama sighed, shaking his head.
“Too late for me to do any changin’. I’ll be set in my ways til I die.”
“Good thing I’m used to dealing with your big mouth or otherwise I’d have a long life ahead of me, huh?”
“Ditto!”
“Oh, then, uh..” Koji stretched his palm outward. “Let me show you both to your table, boss.”
“Sure.” he said, now accepting the responsibility of escorting the old man through the crowd.
By the time the party cleared out, Nishikiyama was downright exhausted. He couldn’t remember the last time he tossed back a few and let loose, well… As loose as one could be in a room full of people. Parties and nightlife just weren’t for him anymore. The fatigue that always set in afterward was bone deep.
Tonight, though? He didn’t regret it.
Since losing the trio: Yuko, Yumi and Kiryu and cutting back on stopping by Uehara’s he couldn’t remember the last time he celebrated his birthday properly. It wasn’t for lack of others trying. He’s trashed all of Reina’s invites, he’s chewed out Koji more times than he could count just for asking and he screened all of his calls from the sixth to the eleventh for a couple of years. He didn’t even remember the last time he told someone his birthday. After a while, he had ignored it enough times that it could pass him by and he wouldn’t even notice.
Hell, it wasn’t until that initial fright right below the welcome arch that it even crossed his mind today!
Nishikiyama looked up from the sprawl of empty bottles and glasses to spot a coatless Koji with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, sweeping up the aftermath all on his own and as if he could feel eyes on him, he immediately turned to meet his gaze and silently asked in that dependable way that he did: You okay, boss?
Then, knowing that he’d been summoned, he walked in his direction, broom and dustpan still in tow.
He scooted further toward the corner of the booth to allow the younger man to take the seat at the far end, “Sit.”
Without a word, he quickly obeyed. Apart from the low pop music in the background, the two sat in a lengthy silence, but it didn’t alarm Koji, not like when he could sense a scolding incoming. Folding his arms onto the table, he rested his head back against the banquette allowing himself to fully relax for the first time in what felt like weeks until he heard the boss' voice.
“Hard to believe that you set all this up… It’s not your style at all," he joked, but the words came out harsher than he intended.
“It’s not. But it is yours, boss.” he said.
“Koji…”
“Sir?”
Nishikiyama’s eyes slowly trailed from counting the tables that were now half empty to finally settling on him. “I never told you my birthday...”
Koji stiffened. A pinkish tint rushed across his face as he chuckled, rubbing at the fuzz at the back of his head. “Yeeaah, I, uh…” he trailed off.
“You, what?” he asked, folding his arms on the table similarly to how the captain had been just a moment before.
“I read it on the paperwork you filled out… When you helped with the purchasing agreement.”
Realization widened his eyes.
All evening he had juggled ideas in his head about how he found out. He wondered if he had been so exhausted lately that he couldn’t recall revealing the "secret" to finally shut him up. Though, he knew deep down that had that been the cause, he might not have said the actual date. Then, he considered if maybe he had left his I.D lying around somewhere or if the boys had gotten so desperate for an answer that they started asking around. Not once did he think that maybe, just maybe he had gotten sloppy and passed off paperwork with his birthday written on it.
He had to hand it to the kid. Koji was nothing if not resilient with an amazing eye for detail. He wouldn’t have been named captain without it.
He dropped his gaze to his clasped hands and squeezed just enough to define his veins. Another lengthy silence lingered between them…
Once again, it was Nishikiyama who broke the silence.
“Thirsty?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he reached for one of the clean glasses, placed it in front of Koji and then poured a double shot into it.
When the young man reached to return the favor, he raised his palm in a halting gesture. Then, poured his own drink. Lifting the glass, he watched as the brown liquor swished and swayed as he parted his lips to speak before quickly pressing them back together and gesturing his glass toward Koji’s.
Clink…
The captain watched for him to take the first sip and when it didn’t come, his eyes bore into his. There was a small phrase on the top of Nishikiyama’s tongue, but he couldn’t spit it out. Instead, he raised his glass with a nod then finally took a sip.
Still, Koji didn’t drink and a solemn expression took hold of his features. “Boss,” he began. “Now that I know your birthday, I’ll be sure to never forget... You’ve never forgotten mine.”
He couldn’t ignore the dull tug in his chest or the twitch in his brow upon hearing those words– seeing that expression.
Sure, he did acknowledge his birthday every year, but Koji was just a punk kid the last time he had gone all out for him. Just last year, he’d given Koji no more than an old watch of his that he always seemed to obsess over anytime he saw it on him. Well, he had to give him something, right? He was the closest thing to “family” that the kid had left, really.
“Happy birthday, boss.” he said, bowing his head and Nishikiyama didn’t miss the reverence in his doing so. When he finally raised his head, he flashed him a goofy smile then took a large gulp of his whiskey.
“Woo, shit!” he coughed, pounding at his chest, “Shit, that’s strong! How do you drink this stuff?!”
Without thinking, he tossed his head back in laughter at the younger man’s dramatics.
“That’s–HACK– MESSED UP, BOSS!” he continued to choke, “I’m really dyin’ ove— Here!”
“That’s because you’re supposed to sip it, dumbass!” he cackled.
He couldn’t remember the last time he's laughed as hard and as much as he's done tonight or how long it had been since he shared a true belly laugh with someone else, but once it began he could hardly stop it. Perhaps it was the alcohol?
Despite that and the inevitable hangover that would surely follow, he knew that he’d think back to this night for all the birthdays to follow.
Tonight might have been his happiest birthday yet.
