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Odajima has begun to like living by the sea.
It might be more accurate to say that he has learned to like living by the sea with Kataoka.
Their days have a familiar rhythm. Working at the concession stand is a good cover for what they actually do, and Kataoka feeds on spending time with people.
But there are days like today when there's nothing to do and they have the choice of wandering around the town running errands or lazing around in their apartment.
Today is an apartment day. They slept late and ate breakfast on their little balcony. Kataoka hasn't bothered putting on a shirt yet - the heat is oppressive, even broken by the breeze. As always Odajima’s eyes are drawn to the supple lines of his shoulders, both because of the tattoo and the lean muscle.
Kataoka hunches over most of the time. It's one of the ways he makes himself less threatening.
His phone has been pinging for the last little while, and he has a furrow between his eyebrows that Odajima has learned means someone is messaging him about Kirii. Only Kirii has the ability to piss him off that badly.
It's odd, looking at Kataoka's profile, his prominent nose. He can understand why Kirii might have believed he was the old man’s son. It's a coincidental resemblance that fed into whatever the hell was going on in Kirii’s mind.
But they're night and day.
A week ago Kataoka had to meet with someone from the clan about an incident on the border of their territories. Of course Kirii had shown up, even if the meeting should have been beneath him. He can't resist a chance to answer or try his best to rile Kataoka into making a mistake.
Odajima had been standing by Kataoka's right shoulder, tense but trying to look impassive.
The conversation was glacially polite on both sides. Kataoka kept his body between Odajima and Kirii at all times even as they went through the polite fiction of respect.
The clan members who came with Kirii all looked as if they'd rather be anywhere else, even under their usual masks.
Kataoka turns his phone face down and sighs theatrically.
“Is something wrong?” Odajima takes a bite of his breakfast. Kataoka cooked it - he's good at cooking because of course he is. Odajima understands Kirii's frustration at that at least Kataoka is good at most things - if Odajima didn't love him it would probably drive him insane.
But here he is eating a delicious western style breakfast on his balcony by the sea.
“Aish, just more defections. Younger guys mainly - leaving for greener fields. Is it greener fields? Or pastures? Anyway. They're gone.”
Odajima had known that it would happen. He'd as much told Kirii so when he dumped evidence and a bag of money in his lap.
“The old man was a fool to hand it all over to him.”
“I’d have had to kill him if the old man had named me."
“He tried to kill you.” He didn't have to mention that he'd specifically sent Odajima to do it.
Kataoka’s expressive face shuttered for a second.
“When we were younger I tried to be his friend.
But he started competing with me the second we hit puberty. It was exhausting.”
He looked out to the sea. The breeze ruffled his hair. Odajima was reminded that the gap in their ages wasn't so much. Kataoka was still relatively young for the position of underboss.
“You could have taken the clan if you'd really wanted.” Odajima murmured, because it was true. Kataoka was charismatic - people were loyal to him in a way that they weren't to Kirii.
“I didn't want it. I still don't want it. I told him that. I was happy enough where I was.”
Kirii was a fool. Kataoka might have been charismatic and at times chaotic, but he was loyal. He'd have stayed and propped Kirii up because he thought it was what he owed the old man.
Now Kirii was on shaky ground. He made bad decisions and treated the younger generation badly.
Rumour was he had tried to do to another boy what he'd done to Odajima, but this boy had told others. This boy was a politician’s son slumming it for a thrill and reported it back to his father, who withdrew his support from the clan and wouldn't budge on it no matter the bribe.
All of this was brewing into a crisis of confidence and a steady stream of arrivals to their area, all seeking out Kataoka.
Odajima couldn't blame them. After all he had been drawn in just the same.
Their group was certainly unconventional. There was Kataoka's insistence that Odajima was both his beloved wife and right hand man for a start. A couple of the newcomers had baulked at that and left but most seemed to accept it. Kataoka wasn't typical anyway and those who worked best with him were all bit odd anyway.
Asahi would have had the time of his life.
Kataoka sighed.
“The clan is finished, I think. Not now maybe, but I don't think it will survive him.”
He shrugs his shoulders a little, before grinning the way he usually does when he's about to tease Odajima.
“Why be sad about it though? I'm here by the sea with my beautiful wife.”
Odajima just rolls his eyes. He would rather die than admit it but he's gotten fond of it when Kataoka calls him his wife.
More than fond.
“Eat your breakfast.” He takes another bite to hide his flush, but knows he's failed.