#hostess reader

Kiyotaka Ijichi was a scrawny little business man who had not an ounce of the poise or manipulation, just plain old boldness and everyday average looks. Nowhere near strong enough to take someone on in a fight either, like a mouse afraid of their own shadow, too petrified to go out of its home by itself to avoid the trap. Just how you liked it. 

In the club he couldn’t hurt you or upset you, make situations about himself or make you feel like complete shit. Ijichi complimented you, impressed by your fashion and how you carried yourself and me he made sure to tell you often. He was just so ordinary, plain looking enough and just living day to day life as a drone.

Perfect.  

“Another glass of champagne please.” This was glass number three and it was almost as though Ijichi was trying to get you drunk.

Most rules stipulated your own discretion, making wise chooses whilst surrounded by alcohol and men with wandering hands. Though one rule that always bugged you was, within reason, you must fulfil all wishes of the clients. Including drinking. 

You giggled and put on a show as usual to keep him coming back and spending as much money as possible. “Easy on my champagne Kiyotaka, anyone would think you were trying to get a girl drunk!”

Talking sweet like that seemed to please him. There were plenty of younger girls that would have suited his tastes, however he requested you right from the very start and spent good money doing so. “Not at all, I just want to treat my special girl for her birthday I missed last week.”

Your birthday, another year older. Another reason to believe he would grow bored of you soon and move on to another girl, a totally depressing thought when the tips and gains were so good. Just a few weeks ago he brought you a designer handbag just because he said he wanted to. 

It was flattering, and a younger girl would definitely fall for his generosity and probably bend to his persistence. 

“Special girl huh?” You shuffled and leant forward to pick up your glass with left over champagne inside. “I’m a year older now, you sure you won’t be requesting another girl next week?”

Special girl. That was the name he used to call you. 

Ijichi swirled the golden bubbly liquid left in his own glass, arm up along the top of the booth seat behind you. “Never. I wouldn’t do that at all, I enjoy your company.” 

Then why do you keep asking me back to your hotel every time?

Usually men just enjoyed talking, conversation on boring topics like politics, business and sports, maybe even stocks from time to time. But an invitation to a hotel could be misconstrued as sex or something similar along the kinky lines of role playing. Unless clear expectations were set before hand, it could get confusing when a guy sat down on the chair in the hotel ready to talk about his wife who was sat at home with the kids, or on the other hand wanting your hand shoved down his pants or mouth around his cock. 

“Oh you.” You placed your free hand on his shoulder and tapped it playfully. “You’re too kind.”

“And you’re too beautiful. I often wonder why you accept my request every time I come here.” 

Because of the tips. They paid your rent with lots to spare.

You hadn’t dabbled in testing the muddy waters, but his persistence was beginning to make you question whether or not you should just entertain him just to get him to stop asking. 

But if you did, it could carry on and it wasn’t something you were interested in.

“I enjoy your company too.” He was refreshing. Not at all your type of guy, but far enough from your type it put you into a comfort zone, soothing and different.

“So…” You knew immediately what he was going to request. “Will tonight be my lucky night? You’ll come back to my hotel room?” 

“Kiyotaka… I don’t think that’s wise. You’ve given me way too much champagne.” Your giggling did nothing to get him to chuckle along with you. 

He didn’t. He actually leaned closer to you and pulled away a strand of hair that clung to the stickiness of your drying lip gloss. 

“You’re incredibly beautiful, and to be honest I’ve come to like you very much.” Desperation became him. “I-I promise I’ll keep coming back and requesting you. Just one night that’s all I ask, there doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want I-I would just like some alone time to speak privately, you know, to get to know the real you?”

His face, so puppy like begging for a walk. How could you say no realistically? But that must have been the champagne in your system. One night. So would he leave you alone after that? Much contemplation and the alcohol was clouding it, the decisions and better judgement. After all, he spent so much on you in and outside of the cabaret. Beautiful hand crafted leather purses arrived at work with beautiful cards and lace, bags and fresh bouquets of flowers of your favourite, violets, to which you didn’t even remember mentioning it. 

You both had talked quite frequently over the months, and he listened intently and remembered the small details. All since he walked into the Cabaret club and requested you. Maybe one night. It had been two years after all since you had ended things and endured the divorce. You hadn't even entertained the idea of being in the company of another man outside of the club since then.

He awaited your response with great patience. “Alright... One night.” 

“W-what? Are you sure?”

You nodded, tipping back the rest of your champagne for good measure for you lacked the dutch courage. “I’m sure, one night after I finish and I will come and talk with you at you hotel. One night only though.” 

It depended how things went. As a cabaret hostess, it came with a set of responsibilities, and watching who you fell in love with was a big one. Girls often let feelings get in the way with other clients, men so even more, falling in love definitely came with its perks, but also its downsides which hit back twice as hard.

You didn’t love Ijichi, you weren’t sure you even liked him in a way he was inclined towards you, but he seemed like a decent guy. Hence why you agreed. 

He didn’t say anything right away, he sat there thinking, contemplating whilst looking around the club and its patrons. “What if I dropped enough money down on the table to cover your work tonight, would you come with me right now?” 

For the night? That was ridiculous, who had that kind of money that they could just blow on one person? It was in the millions. 

“A typical Friday night?” Mental maths was never your strong suit. “Roughly six million Yen.” 

“Easy.” He pulled what looked like Italian leath wallet. Must have been imported. Bank notes rained down onto the table with a flutter. 

“But this…” After you scooped it, you counted it. “This isn’t six, this is ten million.” 

“I said I wanted to treat my special girl, pocket the other four and buy yourself something pretty.” This money came from someone who claimed they were in accounting, who knew that was how much they made. 

I need to get into a different line of work. 

“Thank you Kiyotaka, it’s very generous of you.”

So it was a done deal. The manager was thrilled to see how much you’d brought in for the night and he allowed you to leave early without so much as a peep from jichji to convince him. As soon as he heard you were going on a what would you call it, a date? He let you go immediately despite your roster for staying until closing time. 

The hotel wasn’t even far, very convenient for the rush of dizzy and flush at your cheeks when you came out on to the main street and hit the wall of chill. Only one street away, and a fancy one at that. When you thought about it in your little tipsy fog, he had always been staying at a hotel, the same hotel number. You remembered the various amount of scrapped paper and scribbled writing to know it was the same hotel on the heading by the ripped corner. 

How much money did this man have? It seemed the only this Ijichi had in common with your ex-husband though money did not appear as Ijichi's personality at face value.

It’s fine. He’s lovely. He's Probably lonely too. He took your arm and steadied you, taking it slow right through the lobby and up to the elevator.

The sight cause you to gasp audibly and forget the little details. “That’s so pretty.” 

You marvelled at the one thing that drew your attention. Sparkly things. Glitter, iridescent sheets of glass and card to make a truly beautiful and angelic sculpture by the elevator. Shapes and intricate swirls over meticulously placed sheets of glass and wire rope in the style of traditional architecture. So shiny, the light hit it perfectly to reflect the contrasted rainbow. 

“Apparently it took them an entire year to cut the shards of glass and hang them in just the right way, if you were to cut them down, you could never get the same effect again.” 

Ijichi knew his architecture and here you were, standing looking at glitter. Art was wasted on you, if it wasn’t sparkly or shiny you weren’t interested. Diamonds were your favourite to look at. The top floor too? The elevator took ages to ascend to the penthouse, Ijichi took his hand and snaked it around the small of you back and waist. He claimed it was for your support but you didn’t believe him for a second, he was trying to get closer. 

To cop a feel? Maybe. 

“We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with and as soon as you’re ready I can take you home or back to the club.” 

So considerate, why weren’t all guys like this? “Thank you, I appreciate it.” 

“There’s also more champagne chilling in my room too.”

That made you chuckle, this whole scenario tickled your funny bone. “Now I know for certain that you’re trying to get me drunk! You aren’t subtle at all Kiyotaka.” 

He smiled at the childish pat on his shoulder, but he didn’t appear to be as confident as he was, like there was a filter on his face. Maybe he was regretting it? The pacing was wrong, he took one step for every two of yours, hurrying you along to the door now. Perhaps he was eager instead? You had decided that you were not going to sleep with him. 

His keycard lit up the tiny light on the reader and the door opened. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry about this.” The door closed in slow motion. 

“What are you taking about?” That’s right, slow motion. 

“There’s my special girl, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” 

You sobered instantly, the chill like a steam train bouldering heavily enough down your spine. It wasn’t the cold or the champagne, it was a monster. 

Your ex-husband. 

“S-Suguru…” It was so difficult to face him. “How did you find me?” 

You didn’t see him, but you felt his very existence. Ichiji stood by the corner of the room shaking his head, a remorseful look and knitted brows. 

“Ijichi is a very good sniffer dog.” 

That bastard, that weak little bastard just took you straight to the vipers den. You knew now where Kiyotaka Ijichi was really getting his money from. Suguru Geto bankrolled that pathetic bastard everything he paid you.

You managed to be free of Suguru once before, not without stress and fear. A manipulator in his own right, a monster who kept you, never cared for you and claimed it was love. There was no  way you were going to get away from him again. 

Not without risking more than a catastrophic divorce and traumatic nightmares.

All because Kiyotaka Ijichi had no fucking spine. 

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Earlier that day

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today.”

Hanzo’s voice was warm, yet professional, the light of the holoscreen gently bouncing off of his skin in the dimmed room. His expression was neutral but not blank, the ghost of a simpering smile tugging at the corners of his lips but never rising into a true one. Shoulders back, posture straight but not stiff, his whiskey brown eyes giving the room a brief once over before continuing. Fake pleasantries and niceties were expected of anyone coming before the board and he was no different, even as the heir to the Shimada Conglomerate. Although, Hanzo wished he could have expected the same from the board. He could see several of the elders at the table flicking through the information transmitted to each of their datapads as they had entered the room, some actually reading the inscribed text while others stared at him, wrinkled faces set in a permanent frown. Years of training, school work and private lessons had led to this moment and he wasn’t going to let their lingering doubts of him deter him from victory. 

Motioning at the screen, the beginning of his proposal popped up, simply titled ‘Partnership Program between Shimada Conglomerate and Caledonia, Co’. He heard the start of agitated murmurs begin around the table before motioning towards the screen once more and going to the next slide. It held images of both the Shimada Conglomerate’s main building in the heart of Hanamura and the shining new Ashe, Inc building located in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The next motion he made zoomed in on the section for Ashe, Inc. as he began to go through the history and details of the company.

“Caledonia Co. was started five years ago and is a subsidiary of the larger Ashe Inc. located in Sante Fe”, Hanzo said simply, watching as the facts illuminated on the screen before disappearing and being replaced with information from the company’s annual financial report. “They are currently the quickest growing modular home providers within the American southwest with projected earnings for the year predicted to be just under one billion dollars. There also have been whispers of the company securing a US federal contract with the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development to create homes for those still impacted by the Omnic Crisis.”

Pausing briefly, Hanzo glanced over the crowd, a small root of uneasiness swiping at his heart as not one board member looked the least bit intrigued by the company. Still, Hanzo refused to succumb to this adversity, flicking to the next screen with bulleted and referential lines about the benefit of partnering with the North American company. 

“The Shimada modular manufacturing subsidiary, Sparrow is both well-known and highly respected within the Japanese market”, Hanzo started, showing the earnings for the company in the last three years before swiping and overlapping that with predicted earnings that could happen if they expanded into other markets. “But we are lacking any power in markets outside of Eastern Asia, meaning we are not realizing Sparrow’s full potential. It is estimated that despite our current hold on the market we may begin to experience 2 to 3 percent profit declines regularly over the next decade due to field competitors and possible housing declines.”

“We do have the opportunity to turn that around”, Hanzo stated as he again showed prospective growth if they partnered up, the charts morphing to show off his estimations. “By supplying the North American company with our modular manufactured materials, we have the potential to grow both companies profits as well as have an established name in North America backing the growth of the Sparrow company into that region.”

The loss of profit statement had earned him a scoff or two, the older members stubbornly believing that the Shimada’s hold on the Japanese market was impervious to competition or outside influence. It had been the Shimada-gumi that had led the underground into helping Japan in its most dire hour during the war; providing housing, clothing, medicine, food and non-perishables as well as shelter across for their countrymen. Hanzo’s father and grandfather had spearheaded those projects almost twenty years ago, transforming the Shimada-gumi from small Yakuza-run businesses into the conglomerate powerhouse with hands in almost all facets of modern society. When the god program was eventually pushed back under sea, the Shimada’s and their supporters and allies were the one that rebuilt Japan and in turn had earned the idolatry of their countrymen. The Shimada name was looked at with adoration and reverence, the name conjuring up images of Japanese resilience and charity in the face of animosity. 

And while all that was true, they forgot that a new generation of consumers was being born, ones that were not as indebted to the Shimada name as the prior generation. People born on the cusp of the war did grow up hearing of all of their good deeds, but their attentions were fickle and easily wavered to newer, bigger things. While they would have a market to sail on for some time, it was not enough to maintain the current state of affairs and so Hanzo would try and better them. Even if it meant further catering to their more immoral heartstrings. 

“Caledonia is also the largest black market weapon supplier in the entirety of North America”, he stated pointedly, pressing another button to fully lock down any possible leaks in the room. “Caledonia is headed by Elizabeth Ashe, daughter of the heads of Ashe, Inc. Although expunged and sealed, my sources were able to find that she had a record of gang activity that was previously connected to the Deadlock Gang. It appears her tenure with the gang never ended and she instead looked for clearer avenues in which to support and conduct business.”

 The surprised looks and murmurs that rippled through the room almost made Hanzo smile for real, the man relishing the ball of pride that fluttered in his chest as he went through the rest of the presentation showing the profits that could grow for both their legitimate and illegitimate markets. The final page was marked with a simple question mark, the lights in the room coming up as he looked over the faces of the elders before finally landing on his father’s. Sojiro was the expert at guarding his true emotions, his eyes locking with his son before snapping down to the datapad that was used for each board meeting. Encrypted and only accessible through both fingerprint and retinal scanning, a security measure that ensured if any information got out, it would have to have come from within. 

“If you would like a more detailed breakdown”, he began, reaching at the front of the long boardroom table and pulling up his own datapad. “Please take a look through these pages. I am happy to answer any questions.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Hanzo’s hands tightened around his datapad, lips ticking downward ever so slightly as his eyes pulled to Shoto Yamamoto. He was a portly balding older man seated near his father, his official title being Shimada’s general counsel. Unofficially, he was one of the saiko-komon of the Shimada-gumi, his father’s most trusted advisor and provider of counsel to the entire clan. The Yamamoto family’s allegiance went all the way back to the start of the 20th century, the two families intertwined by blood spilt and fraternity. With the exception of his father, Yamamoto held the biggest sway over the counsel and what they approved or rejected. One by one, Hanzo watched as the members turned their datapad’s off, eyes glancing at Hanzo before sliding back to Yamamoto. 

“The board appreciates the time you took to present this”, Yamamoto began, the condescending intonation on ‘appreciates’ making the back of Hanzo neck burn with annoyance. “But the Shimada Conglomerate doesn’t need foreigners interfering with their affairs. Quite frankly, it’s disheartening to think your confidence, not only in the company, but also in our loyal consumers and stockholders, is so low.”

“My confidence in the company has never waivered”, Hanzo snipped back, tone tight as he placed the datapad down. Yamamoto had swiped at the lowest hanging fruit; doubt for the company, and by extension the clan, was an offense that could be punishable by death or expulsion. The accusation was weak, at best, but it shined an ambivalent light on Hanzo’s intention with the project. “My family toiled for generations to build this business into the pinnacle that it is today. I do not want to see it diminish due to the inability to adapt. The risk we face if we do not acclimate to changing times is much higher than the loss we would suffer if we do not. As I stated, the numbers--”

“And as I said we do not need any interference from some ridiculous American company”, Yamamoto snipped before leaning as far forward as his stomach would allow. He steepled his fingers briefly as he looked around at other heads of the family, inclining his head as he looked at Sojiro. “I think I can speak for all of us when I say that while...ambitious, your presentation was wholly unnecessary. When and if we begin to lose profits, we will handle it as we always have. Internally. Is there anyone that objects to this?”

Hanzo listened to the murmurs that rose up from other members, eyes darting over to the future CEO nervously before looking back to Sojiro and then Yamamoto. It felt clear who they felt they were loyal to, his allegiance, ideas and future position not yet strong enough to sway those who sat on the fence to his side. Hanzo’s lips pursed together tightly, the entire back of his neck flushing in anger. Hanzo intended for this project to be his magnum opus, an idea that would show that he was not only deserving but ready to take over the role of CEO when his father finally abdicated the position.  

Hanzo had worked tirelessly to prove that he was the heir the company deserved. He had gained his Masters in Business Administration by the time he was twenty-three, but the young scion had been interning and shadowing his father since the young age of sixteen. His father had made sure he had experienced every aspect of working for the conglomerate;  Hanzo shadowing mail clerks, administrative assistance, accountants, marketing assistants and even human resources. All this while still maintaining his grades in school, practicing several sports and martial arts with his brother and taking care of any jobs  that the clan required. This wasn’t the first time that he had come to them with proposals; his partnership with several of the nation’s biggest trade schools providing their prefabrication and metal fabrication warehouses with a constant stream of skilled workers. It would seem, however, that he still had not earned the respect that he was owed.

Taking in a slow breath, Hanzo gave a short, stiff bow as members of the board began to stand, the dozen men filtering out of the room slowly. Some stopped and gave Hanzo an apologetic pat on the shoulders, others shaking their head in unspoken disappointment.  The chagrin he felt was sickening; head racing as he tried to figure out a way to amend his blunder, to find the mistake or shortfalling he had made so he could correct it. Failure was not an option. He had worked too hard, done too much. His stomach tightened into a ball, the creep of anxiousness in his chest slowly squeezing at his lungs as he drew in a shuddering breath.  His eyes narrowed on the black marble floors, the swirling white in them blurring then vaguely coming back into focus.

“Hanzo.”

Hanzo’s eyes darted from the floor to his father, the breath caught in his throat coming out as a half-cough. Sojiro’s brow was minutely pinched, the concern he held for his son barely contained by the professionalism his position required. Standing straighter, Sojiro approached his son, gently placing a hand on his shoulder before motioning towards the door, clearly meaning to escort his son back to his office. A ghost of a smile touched Hanzo’s lips as he nodded, gathering his materials before starting towards the door, his father following close behind. 

Sojiro had grown softer in his older years, his wife’s brush with death completely transforming him into a man that actually cared about his sons’ well-beings and not just the future they could provide. Yua Shimada had been a safe space for both of the Shimada sons’, each finding brief reprieve in her presence before they were thrown back into training or schooling or dueling. She emphasized how she cared for their mental well-being first and foremost, that she would love them despite what they did for the clan. Often Genji took advantage of this unwavering love, hiding behind their mother when punishment was to be enforced, Hanzo not wanting to burden his mother with any wrath incurred from his father, trainers or tutors. Hanzo often took the brunt of the anger for not ‘keeping his brother in line’, their younger years filled with quiet resentment and constant bickering. 

It took their mother falling ill and entering the hospital during Hanzo Masters program for the family to mend, the men of the family rushing to be at Yua’s side as she was diagnosed with stage two COPD. Her lung function had fallen to 60 percent, a respiratory infection combined with years of smoking leaving her lungs extremely vulnerable. While they wasted no expense in her care, the situation remained extremely precarious for an entire month, both Hanzo, Genji and their father all taking a leave of absence from school and employment so that they could be at her side. Each night when they left their mother’s side, Hanzo and Genji would seek one another's company; drinking, dueling, gaming, anything to get their minds off of her frail body laying in that bed. Their father would even occasionally join them, silent and watching but with no malice in his gaze. Reconciliation was slow but solidified the healthier Yua got, the trials of almost losing their matriarch creating a strong bond amongst them all. 

“So Hanzo…”

Hanzo gave a small sigh as he came to a stop, his father taking a few more steps before turning to look at his son. Sojiro’s dark eyes were calm yet prying as he looked his son over, gently rubbing at his goatee as he studied the boy, Hanzo suddenly feeling like he was under a magnifying glass. Clearing his throat, Sojiro tilted his head towards the datapad that Hanzo held in his hand, Hanzo glancing downward before his brow furrowed as he looked up.

“What do you plan to do with that proposition of yours?”

Hanzo blinked once then twice before his incredulity wrinkled his brow even more, shaking his head and staring at his father in confusion. 

“What do you mean”, Hanzo inquired, tone bordering exasperation and his eyes bore into his father’s. “The board has rejected it, there is nothing I can do.”

“Disappointing”, Sojiro sighed as he turned on his heel and began his walk back towards the offices. “I expected more from you…”

In The Present

Hanzo’s face burned with quiet shame, staring down hard at the black iced coffee Genji had ordered for him as he divulged the tale, the same uneasiness at failure creeping into his stomach. 

“Well”, Genji questioned, stretching out the word and looking at his brother excitedly, the younger Shimada practically bouncing in his seat.

“Well what”, Hanzo asked, brow furrowing deeper as his brother looked at him with wide, enthusiastic eyes. “The board shot down all my plans and father is disappointed in me, what else is there?”

The words left an acrid taste in his mouth, lips ticking down even more as Genji rolled his eyes and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. 

“For someone so smart you can be so blind”, Genji sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically as Hanzo glared at him. He was unsure if his brother was trying to earn his ire but if he was, he was doing a good job at it. Forcing Hanzo to turn and look him directly in the eyes, Genji’s gaze grew slightly serious. “Didn’t you get what father was trying to tell you? Do it anyway! Fuck what the board says!”

Hanzo’s jaw dropped, mouth opening and closing several times before he found the words, confusion and disbelief fighting in equal measure.

“What do you mean fuck the board”, Hanzo hissed out, hands closing then opening as if they held the words themselves. “I can’t just dismiss what the board says. And how?! You expect me to just ignore the elders like y--”

Hanzo bit back his words but Genji rolled his eyes as he stared down his older sibling. 

“Like me”, Genji finished for him, cutting Hanzo off before he could interfect or apologize. “Actually yeah, stop letting them make every single decision for you, aniki! Aht aht, don’t interrupt! Brother, you always followed what the elders said but has any of that ever made you the least bit happy?”

“Well…”

“That’s not a yes Hanzo”, Genji muttered deadpan before releasing his brother. “Think of this like Go, Han. Go has fortresses and if you play smart, what seems like an impenetrable fortress can easily be flipped or wiped out. If you do this brother and plan it out and succeed? They won’t have any choice BUT to listen to you.”

Hanzo mulled over this for several pregnant moments, lips pursed together as his mind raced over the audacious idea, warmth beginning to bloom in his chest as excitement trickled in. He may be able to pull this off. He would have no team or project manager, he wouldn’t be able to rely on the marketing department to make materials nor assistance to work alongside him. But if he took his time, he knew he could pull this off. Fate had been on Hanzo’s side when his father had him trained in every single aspect of the business, the man no expert but far from a greenhorn if the situation demanded it. If he could not only put together a business plan but also convince Ashe to meet with him in Japan, he could taste the sweet sweet flavor of not only success but he could begin to refute and rebuke the elders when the changes brought in profit. The only thing wrong…

“As much as I would like that”, Hanzo began, his Genji’s eyes growing suspicious on him. “I cannot. There is no place I can go where Shimada eyes do not follow.”

Hanzo’s shoulders began to hunch, his head drooping before he felt Genji began to shake him, elation and mischief tainting his tone as Genji force his brother to look up.