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Call The Bluff

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He should have known better.

Kiryu would continue to berate himself even hours after he left the cabaret club, because he should have known better. He should have known better than to challenge Majima at a game he wasn’t confident enough he could win. He could blame the alcohol, the dedication to play along with their little act, or the overpowering bravado that came with going up against the one man that would never back down from a fight of any kind for what he’d gotten himself into. In the end, it didn’t really matter, because there was no way he would back out after going all-in.

Kiryu-chan~!” Majima, or rather Goromi, trilled beside him while she batted her false eyelashes. “You’ll stay longer, won’t ya? Don’t leave a girl hangin’!”

How could he say no? It would have been easy, actually, but he would take almost any chance Majima gave him to help forget about his deeper worries for even just a moment. Although, he would never say that to the man’s face. It was less complicated to maintain their dynamic if he continued to play on his own annoyance.

“Yeah. I don’t see why not.”

“Hehehe! That’s great!” Goromi clapped her hands together theatrically. “Ah, yer gettin’ me all worked up! So, when was the last time you went on a date, huh, Kiryu-chan?” she pressed enthusiastically, shooing the waiter that had stood patiently before them.

He should’ve left. If he had to be honest, Goromi didn’t even have to make the question pointed for his heart to hurt a little.

“I didn’t exactly have time to date behind bars.” he answered tersely, thoughts of Yumi having floated to the surface of his mind. “It’s… been a while.”

“What? Don’t tell me there hasn’t been a single girl that’s caught yer eye since ya got out of the slammer!” Goromi gasped incredulously, pink-nailed hand shooting up to cover her mouth. “I don’t believe it! C’mon, what’s yer type, Kiryu-chan?”

He wasn’t sure he even had an answer for that.

“Well… I’ve never really thought about it. I don’t really have a type.”

Eh? Bullshit! Before you got locked up, every girl I saw you with was pretty and had brown hair!” Goromi snapped impatiently, her hands shooting back down to rest on her legs, fingers curled up into fists. “Or are you just tryin’ not to hurt my feelin’s? Is that it? Because yer just my type, Kiryu-chan!”

Kiryu sat up straight as Goromi leaned in closer, just far away enough that he could only smell a hint of booze on her breath.

“I love a man that can pound someone into the ground~❤”

Something about that sentence didn’t sound right. Regardless, he softened his face like he would around any woman he spoke to at a club, threading his fingers together in his lap.

“That suits you, Goromi. You seem like a strong woman; I don’t see you settling for a man that can’t handle himself.”

That earned him an effeminate giggle.

“Yer damn straight! I don’t want to waste my time on a man that can’t fight. But, you look like ya could take anyone on, Kiryu-chan~” Goromi chirped, finally leaning back to give Kiryu room to breathe. “Maybe even…! I’ll cut you a deal: if ya beat me in a fight, I’ll let ya go on a date with me! That is, if ya think you could earn the privilege.”

Her glossy, red-lipped smirk set off red flags in his head.

His gut and common sense told him absolutely not, but the fraction of him that refused to back down from anything Majima threw at him spoke so much louder. After all, the man had already pushed his buttons too far the last time he was subjected to this; this time around, he refused to fold just yet.

“Fine.” he spoke adamantly, his mind trying to piece together what exactly he had just agreed to. “But, if I win, I decide what the date will be.”

Knowing Majima, his idea of a date would just be another fight.

Goromi blinked in surprise, clearly not having expected the answer she received. However, the devilish glee returned to her face tenfold. It was almost frightening, really, how quickly she leaned forward into his face again. The smell of alcohol was much stronger with her mere inches from him.

“Huh…?! Deal!” she agreed quickly, no doubt sure that Kiryu would try to back out of it if she didn’t seal the deal. “Give me everything you've got, Kiryu-chan, or you’ll never have a chance with me~! Let’s go!”

“Wait, our time isn’t–!”

Goromi practically shot out of her seat, her perfect fake nails digging into Kiryu’s wrist as she dragged him up to stand. He had to give Majima credit, at least; he would never understand how a man could move so quickly in high heels. She had pulled them through the front entrance before he could voice much protest, him stumbling over his own feet as she rounded the corner to pull them into a slightly secluded street beside the building. Pleased with where Kiryu now stood, Goromi hastily put about ten paces between them before she turned to face him.

“Alright, Kiryu-chan!” Goromi announced loudly with an open sweep of her arms, the signature manic grin ever present on her face. “It’s time to earn a date with the girl of your dreams! Do ya think ya got what it takes?!”

The first move, for the most part, had a tendency to be predictable. Five times out of ten Majima would lunge at him shrieking, and that moment just happened to be one of those times. A swift dodge to the left gave him a mere shred of a second to react to the high heeled shoe that whistled past the tips of his hair as he ducked.

They hadn’t even been fighting for 30 seconds and he could already hear his heart thumping in his ears. The first rush of adrenaline was all it ever took to get him on full alert, but he discovered that it had become much more difficult to focus on which direction Majima was coming from when there was so much else there to grab his attention.

If it wasn’t the ugly hot pink snakeskin dress, it was the snakeskin panties that accompanied it, or the heels that sailed past his head once again, or even the tacky blonde wig that Majima somehow managed to keep on his head despite how quickly he darted around. However, once he moved past how much the outfit was to take in, it made him that much easier to take down. The flash of pink zipping past him was a dead giveaway, his hand shooting out instinctively to catch his assailant by the back of his too-tight dress.

He flung Majima to the ground roughly, taking one, two large steps towards a bicycle he intended to beat the hell out of his adversary with; after all, the key to any victory against the Mad Dog of Shimano was to end the fight as quickly as possible. But, when had things ever gone according to plan for him?

The last thing he expected was a hand clutched around his ankle, yanking him off balance and sending him toppling onto a trash can. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, he supposed; a trash can would have to do. A good kick to the face was all it took to get Majima to let go, followed by a pained yelp. Kiryu rose to his feet with his makeshift weapon in tow, raising it over his head and bringing it down onto his opponent a good three times before he’d beaten too many dents into the metal for it to be of much use. He discarded what was left of the can, bending down to get a tight grip in Majima’s wig and yanking his head up. He wound his foot back before he reintroduced his shoe to the man’s teeth, sending him crashing against the wall of the cabaret club they had exited not too long ago.

All he heard in retort was Majima choking on whatever fluid had caught in his throat, but all it did was make Kiryu’s blood pump faster through his veins. The man didn’t stay down for long; the pink blur pushed itself up off the ground, ramming a shoulder into his gut and sending him careening to the ground. Majima got four clean, vicious punches across Kiryu’s cheek before his fist was caught in the progress, his bones protesting loudly under the vice grip that clutched them.

There was the fire in the Dragon’s eyes. Speckled with blood, sure, but it was a fire nonetheless. It made Majima shiver with excitement, his ecstatic grin growing toothier by the second. In all seriousness, he knew his ass was as good as beat, but the fact that it was the Dragon of Dojima doing the beating made the pain he was due to endure so much sweeter.

Kiryu shoved his opponent off with little effort, cracking his knuckles across the man’s face the moment he had a clear shot. Majima crashed onto the street with a grisly thud, but the lights didn’t go out until the bottom of Kiryu’s shoe came down onto his face.



Majima woke with a groan of pain, his one eye squinting against the street light that shone nearby right down onto his damn face. The draft across his legs caught him by surprise at first, until he remembered just what had happened before he threw down with Kiryu the most recent time around.

Damn. Now I have to go get this dress cleaned.

When his eye finally fluttered all the way open, Kiryu was looking down at him with his typical stone-faced expression.

“I guess you owe me a date.”

Truthfully, Majima had definitely been more psyched to lose a fight against Kiryu before, but he would still say that he had never been more psyched to lose a fight against Kiryu until those very words had been uttered. In addition to words, the victor also offered his hand.

“I’m in love.” Majima (or Goromi; at this point the lines had blurred in his own head) sighed dreamily, taking a moment to lie on the ground in pain before she reached up to squeeze Kiryu’s hand. “Alright, big boy– ow–“ she winced, wrapping her arm over her tender side as she stood, but returned to her bloodied devious smile immediately. “You win. I can’t resist a man as strong as you, Kiryu-chan~ I’m yours!”

So suddenly, Kiryu couldn’t help but feel that he had possibly made a huge mistake.