The Book of the Pearl

by Carrie Asai

I stopped short, tripping the goon who was closest to me before he even had time to register that I’d stopped running. He went sprawling onto the sidewalk. I crouched as the others approached, trying desperately to work out some sort of plan, but my brain was stuck on repeat. All I could think about was the window of the car sliding down and the thug’s leering face. I tried desperately to focus.

  There were three of them besides the one I’d already dropped. I’d fought more, but not in this condition. I let my punches fly as they closed in, feeling the gratifying thud of my fist connecting with a jawbone, a kidney, a gut, before a splinter of pain ripped through my side. I’d taken a sharp kick to my side, and the force of it propelled me back. I’d let down my guard—sloppy. With a grunt I hurled myself back into the melee, whirling among my attackers like a pinball, lashing out, landing a few hits, but nothing powerful enough to stop them.

  Just as I realized that all the booze I’d drunk had clouded my ability—I was in essence fighting blind, unable to predict their next moves—two muscled arms closed around my waist. My feet left the ground and I was slammed back down to the pavement hard enough to knock the wind out of me. Sidewalk guy had come back into the fray. I strained for breath and struggled as he held me down.

  “Shou ga nai,” my old friend the kidnapper hissed, his face close to mine, his breath reeking of garlic and stale smoke. “There’s no help for it—we’ll have to kill you now.”

  In a rush my wind suddenly came back. I screamed as loud as I could. He clamped his hand down on my mouth and nose, and I panicked, straining for just one more breath.

  Could this be how it was going to end? Alone, still not knowing who had killed my brother, in some dark, dank alley in downtown L.A.? I regretted quitting my training with every fiber of my being—and now Hiro would never know how much I’d cared about him….

  Suddenly a siren broke the silence of the street. The goon took his hand off my mouth and I rolled onto my side, first retching, then sucking in the air in huge delicious mouthfuls.

  “Keikan!” someone yelled. “Police!” As if in a dream, I heard them deciding what to do with me.

  “Get her in the car!” said their leader.

  “There’s no time! The cops are here!” replied another.

  “Dammit!” Through a haze I saw the approaching lights of the police cruiser. My attackers jumped into the Mercedes and sped away. I hauled myself off the sidewalk. I couldn’t let the police find me. I’d have to answer questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Grasping my side, I slid around the corner and ducked down behind a Dumpster, trying to make my breathing slow and regular.

  The cruiser drove by without stopping. I was safe.

  Safe. Ha! I let out a bitter laugh.

  After a few minutes I stood up, assessing my injuries. My throat hurt, and so did my side, but nothing felt broken. I’d taken the worst kick below the ribs—it would make a stunning bruise, but nothing more. I waited a few more minutes, then cautiously slid back out onto the street.

  And wouldn’t you know it? A taxi was driving toward me, as calm as you please. Luck came at a high price these days, it seemed.

  I hailed it, crawled in, then burst into tears.

  “You okay, honey?” the driver asked, checking me out in his rearview mirror. “Boy trouble?”

  “Just take me home,” I sniveled, “Ten-ten Dawson Street.” Boy trouble. That was a laugh. Though I guess, in a way, it was true. My father, Teddy’s father, Teddy—all the ninjas and thugs in between—Hiro—they were all boys, and the trouble was nowhere near ending.

  I sobbed halfway home but stopped as the cab climbed the final hill up toward Dawson. The sun was coming up over L.A., over the lush yards and gated houses of the wealthy, over the Hollywood sign. I wiped my eyes with the hem of my dress and sighed. My silly dreams of a “normal” life were just that. There was no avoiding it—they would keep coming after me until I was dead or until I found out what they were after and got to them first. No time for tears and self-pity.

  Remember Ohiko,I whispered to myself as the cab climbed higher and the dawn grew brighter over the dirty, sleeping city,because his memory is all you have left.

  How sweet it is to be back with my homies. Things were touch and go there for a while. I thought I might go crazy locked up in that dark little room, nothing but the drip, drip of water and that rustling, nibbling sound to keep me company. I waited there for what seemed like an eternity.

  They knew I’d helped Heaven. But they didn’t know why.

  When I heard Gojo’s voice saying, “Yo, Teddy, what’s up, dog? You okay?” I thought I was gonna start crying like a little baby. Lying there on the slab with my eyes covered and my hands and feet tied, I’d been through just about every wack-ass scenario in my head. The yakuza don’t dig it when one of them goes off track, know what I’m saying?

  “Gojo? Gojo, man, you gotta get me out of here.”

  “What do you think I’m here for, man? Just shut up.”

  Gojo risked his life to save me. Pretty unexpected for a brother whose idea of action is two or three hours playing Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. But I guess all that PlayStation taught him a thing or two because he had the car waiting and everything.

  “Your pops is mad pissed,” Gojo said as we jumped in his SUV and hit the road. I felt like my eyes were gonna explode out of my head from the sunlight. “Damn, dog, youripe,” Gojo said, waving his hand in front of his face. “Roll down that window.”

  I’d put Gojo in his place later. What did he expect? Not likehewould be smelling like a player after a week tied up in a room.

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  “Who?”

  “My father, stupid. Who do you think?”

  “I don’t know, man, but word on the street was that he was going to leave you there until you was half dead or something. Or maybe all the way dead.”

  “How’d you know where I was?”

  “We followed some of your dad’s boys.”

  I was silent. Gojo must have known that busting me out of that hellhole could get him killed.

  “You did that for me?” I whispered, wanting to cry again like a damn baby.

  “Yeah, man, but you gotta make it good with your pops. Or we’re all screwed.”

  I nodded. “Take me where I can get cleaned up.”

  Gojo drove back to his place. I stared out the window, watching the girls on the street. Every time we passed one with long dark hair, I thought of Heaven. Back in that room, the thought of her was all I had. I imagined what it would have been like if we had gotten married after all. Would have been pretty cool.

  Gojo was right. I’d have to make it right with my father. But where did that leave Heaven?

  Teddy

  6

  Just please don’t let Karen be here,I prayed as I rang Hiro’s doorbell. I’d slept until two, then come over to Hiro’s before I could change my mind. Only when I was standing at his door did it occur to me that maybe I should have called first. It was the first time I’d been back to the house on Lily Place since the night Karen was kidnapped. I missed the little bungalow where Hiro and I had first gotten to know each other. Once the house was a safe haven—but not anymore. They—whoeverthey were—knew that Hiro was helping me. And they knew where he lived.

  “Heaven? What a surprise!”

  Karen.

  “Oh, h-hey,” I stammered, “how are you? I just, um, I just came by to talk to Hiro about something.”

  “Everything’s okay, isn’t it?” Karen asked, leaning up against the door frame. She was wearing the bottom half of the gi, which was a pair of white cotton drawstring pants, and a sports bra. Her bod looked sohealthy —I pictured the dark purple bruise that had greeted me this morning when I woke up and hobbled painfully to the bathroom. You would have never guessed that just a few weeks ago, she’d been kidnapped and tied up with no food or water in a room for days. Couldanything make her look bad?

  “Heaven?” Karen asked, waving her
hand in front of my face. “You okay?”

  “Pretty much,” I said, trying to look past her without being obvious. She certainly didn’t seem too eager to ask me in. “Is Hiro here?”

  “Yes, he’s here—Hiro!” Karen called back over her shoulder. “Heaven’s here to see you!” Karen remained at her post, making me feel even more like an intruder than I already did. “You look a little tired, Heaven. Must be those late nights at the club?” Her voice was thick with disapproval—and a healthy dose of condescension.

  “I’m still getting used to it.” I wanted to tell her to shut up and leave me alone, but that didn’t seem like the right approach somehow.

  Hiro walked over toward the door, pulling on a T-shirt. “Heaven? What are you doing out there? Come in.” Seeing him made me want to cry with relief. I needed him too much to stay mad at him. Icared about him too much. And when he looked at me, it was impossible to believe that he’d really meant what he said yesterday about needing a break from me.

  Karen moved out of my way,finally, and I stepped into the foyer.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Hiro, but I need to talk to you for a second.” I glanced over at Karen, hoping she’d take the hint that I wanted our conversation to be private.

  “Don’t be silly—it’s no problem. Let’s go into the kitchen.” Hiro turned toward Karen, who was still standing guard like a watchdog. What was herproblem? Did she think I was going to slam Hiro down on the ground and make out with him? “Are you leaving for the dojo now, sweet?” Hiro asked Karen.

  Gross.

  “Yep. I’ll see you over there later.” Karen walked over to Hiro and gave him a long, slow kiss. Very showy. Hiro shot me an embarrassed look and patted Karen awkwardly on the shoulder.

  “Okay, bye.”

  Karen looked at me with—was that triumph on her face? It was ridiculous. What did she have to be jealous about? Obviously Hiro wanted to be with her. What guy wouldn’t?Just go ahead and kick me while I’m down, why don’t you?

  Hiro brewed some tea, and I sat down at the table. It was just like the old days, but I felt about a million light-years away from the scared, trusting girl I’d been when I lived here. Now it felt evenmore awkward being there with him alone. There was something between us now, something uncomfortable and unsaid.

  “Hiro,” I started, “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. I want to train with you again. I made a mistake.”

  Hiro sat down. One look into his eyes told me that he wasn’t mad anymore, and my anxiety evaporated. I hadn’t even realized how worried I’d been that he’d refuse to take me back.

  “What changed your mind?”

  I told him about last night’s attack and about how I had flubbed the fight. I even told him about the drinks I’d had, figuring that total honesty was the best policy. When I finished my story, Hiro’s face was strained.

  “You’re sure they were yakuza?”

  “Positive. That beefy, fat-faced guy who kidnapped Karen was there. I saw him before the fight started. And I think the others might have looked a little familiar, too.”

  Hiro ran his fingers through his hair. “This is not good. I thought the Yukemuras were going to give it a rest.”

  “You know, Hiro, we can’t be positive it’s them. I mean…” My voice seemed to fail me as I forced out the last part of my sentence. “There are Konishi’s yakuza connections to consider. And Teddy’s still missing in action.”

  Hiro nodded. “You’re right. But you recognized the ring-leader, and it’s unlikely he’d be leading an unrelated crew. The yakuza don’t work that way.”

  I sighed. Hiro’s words were cold comfort. Every time I thought about my father’s crime connections, which I’d only recently learned about, I felt like everything I’d known my whole life had been a lie. If my ownfather was suspect, then anything was possible.

  Hiro gently placed his hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Heaven.”

  I started to sweat—his hand was warm, and I was worried that nervousness would make me jerk my hand away or throw myself into Hiro’s arms. It could go either way.

  “Why? It never would have happened if I hadn’t been such an idiot.”Breathe, Heaven, breathe.

  “You made a few mistakes. Everyone does.” Hiro cleared his throat. “But I’m also sorry about what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m sorry because I know how much you would rather be living a ‘normal’ life. Who wants to have to worry about being attacked every time they leave their home? It’s a terrible way to live. But your destiny has found you, and you can’t escape it.”

  I took a deep breath. He hadn’t really meant what he’d said yesterday after all! “I know. I know. That’s why I’m here. I want to work on my mission—I need to clear my head, or something bad is going to happen. I feel it.”

  “What about your job?” Hiro asked, pouring some more hot water into our cups.

  “What about it?” I stiffened.

  “Well, don’t you think it’s not the best idea for you to be working there? Putting aside the problems we—we talked about yesterday…,” Hiro stammered, then fell silent as he stirred our tea. Was he actuallyembarrassed about the way he had freaked out yesterday? Sorry was one thing, but—it wasn’t like him to regret stuff like that. If there was one thing he was serious about (and really, there were oh so many things), it was the bushido.

  “…it just doesn’t seem wise for you to be keeping such late hours—and the Yukemuras obviously know that you’re working there now—or somewhere around there.”

  I sighed. “I know. And you’re right, Hiro. But I really don’t know what else to do. The truth is, I’m a month behind on my rent, and Cheryl’s been buying most of the food for the house—paying the bills. I just can’t put that on her. And I’m making really good money.” I concentrated on the grounds of tea floating in my cup and tried not to cry. Everything I did seemed hopeless.

  “I understand, Heaven. But I think I can lend you some money until you’re back on your feet.”

  “No!” I cried, surprising myself. “I just can’t let you do that, Hiro. I mean, you hardly have any money, either. It’s not like you’re letting your parents support you or anything. And besides—where can I work that they won’t find me? It doesn’t really matter where—it’s just a question of time.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Hiro said thoughtfully. “Maybe we’ve been silly by not getting you out of L.A. altogether.”

  What? Leave L.A.? Panic rose in my throat. I couldn’t leave L.A. I just couldn’t. Putting aside the fact that I would be totally alone without Hiro and Cheryl, I just didn’t have the strength to learn a whole new city all over again. I chose to ignore Hiro’s suggestion.

  “You know, Hiro—you forget that I’m not even really allowed to work in the United States, which makes things a lot harder. I filled out about twenty applications before I stumbled onto that Life Bytes job—not thatthat lasted very long.” I chewed my lip, a bad habit I’d developed since the night of the wedding. Mega-stress.

  Hiro nodded. “Okay. I see your point. But so far, nothinginside the club has seemed weird, right?”

  I shook my head deliberately, even as I thought about Marcus. I knew that wasn’t the kind of weird Hiro was talking about.

  “So listen—why don’t you keep it up for the rest of the month and try to catch up on your rent situation? We’ll train in the afternoons, and in the meantime you need to do two things—okay?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “First—youhave to get a ride homeevery night—from the door of the club, okay? Don’t you budge from—what’s it called? Vibe?—okay, don’t budge from Vibe until that taxi isthere. Make someone wait with you.”

  I nodded. “No problem. There’s a bouncer there, Matt. I’ll call the cab before he leaves for the night. And the second?”

  “The second is that you have to start looking for another job.”

  I sighed. “Okay.” So much for Heaven’s cool new lifestyle.
I’d probably be cleaning houses pretty soon. Oh, well.

  “Actually—there’s a three, too.” Hiro leaned forward across the table, his beautiful arms crossed. “I want you to seriously devote yourself to your mission. Youmust clear your mind. That means no drinking.”

  “That’s four, Hiro.” I smiled, glad the coziness between us seemed to have returned but not quite sure about this last requirement. “None at all? It might seem kind of weird to have a shot girl who doesn’t drink.”

  “I’m serious. None.”

  I looked down at my hands. I knew Hiro was right. It wasn’t safe for me to drink. I needed to be alert and prepared for anything at any time. I just hoped Cheryl and A. J. wouldn’t ask too many questions about why I wasn’t partying. “Okay. No booze.”

  “Good. Why don’t we get back to training right now? You can meet me over at the dojo.” Hiro collected our teacups and went over to the sink. I watched his graceful movements and couldn’t help wondering why he wasn’t in love with me. I mean, I could think of lots of reasons (Karen = hot, Karen = perfect, Karen = way more together than me), but none of them seemed like enough when I compared them to how much I wanted to be with Hiro. It just seemed impossible that someone I loved so much wouldn’t love me back. It hurt my heart—a dull, steady ache.

  “Okay,” I answered, and pushed back my chair. What felt like needles ripped unexpectedly through my side, and before I could hold it back, a small yelp of pain escaped me.

  “What’s wrong?” Hiro put his arm on my back as I leaned on the chair, trying to breathe through the hurt.

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound normal, my eyes watering from the effort of fighting the ache in my side. “I just have a little bruise.”

  “Let me see,” Hiro said, sounding every inch the doctor.

  “No, Hiro—it’s fine, really….”

  “Now.” I knew better than to argue. I lifted my T-shirt and watched Hiro’s face harden. I had to admit, it felt good to have someone caring about what happened to me.

  “They did this to you?” he asked, his jaw tightening.