Kazoku

by Tara A. Devlin

  “We have a chance to make things better in a way the police never could,” he said. “They’re bound by the law. The law was built to protect the masses, but you yourself have seen how many people fall through the cracks. The law is not perfect, and it never will be. That’s why we exist. Like earthworms in the soil, the law and the yakuza cannot exist without one another, but that doesn’t mean we’re the bad guys. We do what they cannot. You know what the difference between a cop and a yakuza is?”

  “What?” I asked him.

  “Who decides to put on the uniform.”

  The man muttering to himself as he flicked through the papers on his desk was not that man. He wasn’t my father. This went against everything he’d ever taught me. Everything he’d ever shown me. Harada lived by example. An impostor had replaced him. It was the only explanation.

  “We’re gonna have to forget these now,” Harada said, slamming the papers back on the desk. “She didn’t even touch them. I might be able to pull a fingerprint at best to prove that she did, but we’re still going to have to forge her signature. You know what that means, right?”

  I didn’t, no.

  “That means I’m going to have to call Akio in, and you know what he’s like. He’s gonna bitch and complain and I’m gonna have to listen to how some woman ran off with his wallet last weekend and how he still hasn’t recovered and sure he can forge her signature but it’s gonna cost a little more than extra because he’s hard up and ugh.”

  For the first time Harada seemed to notice the boy was still in the room, clinging to his dead mother’s body.

  “Not to mention the kid.”

  “What?” I wasn’t sure if I heard what he was insinuating correctly.

  “The boy. We need to dispose of the boy. His mother was the only family he had, and Ren’s gone and fucked all that up now, hasn’t he? He’s seen everything. We can’t just drop him off at the nearest orphanage now, can we?”

  Dispose of the boy. What was he saying? The boy was five-years-old. He wanted to whack a child?

  “A child’s not an easy job, so I’ll have to call Hiroto in special for it, which is going to cost extra again…”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I said before I could stop myself. Harada stopped mid-sentence and raised an eyebrow.

  “You?”

  “You have enough on your plate right now. I’ll deal with it.”

  Harada seemed impressed. “I never expected that from you.”

  No, neither did I. But I was also starting to realise that a lot of things weren’t how I expected them to be either.

  “Are you sure you can handle this? It’s not like making some no-name pimp disappear.”

  I’d never made anyone disappear. That was handled by those who had a particular knack for it. My knack was in speaking with my fists and little else.

  “I can handle it,” I lied. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I had to get the boy out of there, and fast.

  “Do you need any—”

  “I got it.” I walked over and pried the boy from his mother’s corpse. Her blank eyes stared at me as I lifted the screaming boy and held him under my arm. You did this, her dead eyes accused me. I looked away as quick as I could.

  Harada pulled out his phone and dialled. “Seriously, if I have to hear about how he got swindled by a woman one more time…”

  Toshiki dragged a cleaning cart down the hall as I passed with the boy. He muttered something to himself, his eyes glued to the floor as he passed. He didn’t even see us. Welcome to the family, huh?

  The boy screamed and hit my chest with tiny fists, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  Some family.

  12

  Kazumi’s eyes hardened as I walked through the door to Serenity, pushing the small boy in front of me. He hadn’t said a single word since we got in the car. Not that I blamed him.

  “You didn’t…”

  I shook my head. The bar wasn’t open yet, but it would be shortly. Kazumi hurried us into her office and closed the door behind us. Her eyes flickered down to the boy and then up to me, as though to say, “Well?”

  “Everything’s gone to shit.” They were the only words that came to mind that I trusted myself to say out loud.

  “Yes, I can see that.” Kazumi leaned down before the boy and smiled. “Hey, sweetie. What’s your name?”

  The boy said nothing. She brushed the hair back from his eyes and he flinched at her touch. I’d done the best I could to wipe the blood off his face, but it continued to stain his clothes.

  “Rai,” I answered for him. “His name is Rai.”

  “Rai?” She rested her hands on his shoulders. “That’s a big, strong name for a boy, isn’t it? Do you want something to drink?” She didn’t wait for his reply. Kazumi grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and poured it into a glass for him. The boy held it, but didn’t drink any. He stared into the water as though it were a portal to another dimension, perhaps one he wished to fall into.

  Standing back up, Kazumi looked at me expectantly. “What happened?”

  I shook my head and sank into the couch. “I told them not to do it and they did it anyway. They took the boy and forced the mother to come in. Then they…” The boy might not have been saying much, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear everything we were saying. Kazumi nodded her head and knelt before him once more.

  “Hey, Rai? That’s your name, right?”

  He nodded his head, almost imperceptible, but it was the first sign he’d made since his mother died that he was listening.

  “I bet you’re hungry. It’s well past your dinner time, no doubt. Is there anything you feel like? I can make you some karaage, or fries, even some yakitori if you want. What do you feel like?”

  He continued staring into his untouched water.

  “Okay, how about you just nod if you want something, yeah? Karaage?”

  He shook his head.

  “Fries?”

  A small nod. Kazumi smiled.

  “Of course. I’ll have you know that I make the most delicious fries this side of Rakucho. I know there’s not much in here, but how about you go sit on the couch and I’ll bring your food when it’s ready. I know! You can draw me a picture. That’ll be your payment for the food, okay?”

  She was a natural with kids. Rai settled in on the couch and she handed him a pen and pad from her desk. He held the pen loosely in his hand, making no move to draw anything. I stood up and followed Kazumi to the door.

  “What are you going to do with him?” she whispered.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was hoping you might have some idea.”

  “Me? I don’t know what to do with a child. Doesn’t he have any other family, or…?”

  I shook my head. “They… wanted me to ‘dispose’ of him. Harada doesn’t know I still have him.”

  Kazumi’s eyes widened. She looked over my shoulder at the boy, still holding the pen in his lap. “‘Dispose’ of him?”

  I nodded. “Kazumi, I can’t…”

  “No, no, of course not. And Harada, he was…” Her voice trailed off. She was unable to hide the surprise in it.

  “He ordered it.”

  Her eyes widened again. “Harada? Himself?” She shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t… I mean, he got me off the streets. He looked after me. He set me up with my first business so I wouldn’t have to keep…”

  I never knew the full extent of Kazumi’s relationship with Harada, only that it was close and she looked up to him. We all did. She never spoke about her past and it wasn’t my place to pry. Although I knew it was wrong, seeing Kazumi’s visceral reaction to Harada’s choice made me feel better. I wasn’t off base on this. He had fucked up.

  “He ordered the boy kidnapped so his mother would be forced to sign over the deed of her apartment. Said things were taking too long. And it worked. She came over. And then…” One gunshot, in the roof. Another gunshot, in the wall. A third, final gunshot, this time blood pouring
out of the mother’s chest.

  Kazumi crossed her arms and sighed. She shook her head. “This isn’t like him.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s something else going on. There has to be.”

  “Or maybe he’s finally become like the rest of them.”

  “The rest of them?”

  “The other family heads. The ones making money. The ones moving up the ladder. Harada’s been head of his own family for decades now and still doesn’t have a spot on the council table. Maybe—”

  “You think he wants in?”

  I nodded and then shook my head. “Yes. No. I don’t know. The Higashi-kai leader is getting on in years and they’re already talking about his replacement. Which means there will be a reshuffling of the board.”

  Was that really what all this was about? Harada never once showed signs that he cared about moving up the ladder within the organisation. Higashi-kai controlled most of the capital as well as lands to the south and east, and the Harada family were just one of numerous clans within their affiliation. Not all followed Harada’s strict rules; in fact, most had no qualms about drug trafficking, kidnapping, prostitution, or many of the things Harada himself opposed. The Harada family were different. We had a reputation. Fearsome, but just. Unshakable, but righteous. We didn’t take advantage of the weak. Only those who deserved it. That meant the Harada family were often left out of larger decisions that affected the entire organisation, and Harada was often passed over for promotions, but he never once showed any signs he cared about any of that. He had his family, and he had his business. That was enough.

  But what if it wasn’t anymore? That would explain why he was gunning so hard for that building and the new entertainment complex he wished to build on it. A new entertainment complex, even on the outskirts of Rakucho, would rake in millions of profit each year, and that was just the legal part. The higher ups would notice that. It would be hard to ignore him with his legal millions piling in the bank and his illegal millions available for other schemes.

  Was one woman’s life worth all of that? 24 hours earlier I would have said no, Harada would never stoop that low, not even for millions of dollars. But now? After the only emotion he showed was distress that the woman died before signing her apartment over and brushed the boy away like he was trash?

  I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

  “Listen, you can lie low here for a while if you need.” Kazumi’s voice brought me back. I nodded. “If you need anything, just let me know. We’ll be opening soon, but the couch is comfy and you’re of course welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  “Kazumi.”

  “Hmm?”

  “If anyone comes…”

  “I haven’t seen you. I know how it goes.” She smiled and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll go and get the boy some food. Go sit down and relax for a bit, yeah?”

  The boy mindlessly drew scribbles on the page, his eyes unfocused.

  What was I going to do with a five-year-old boy the yakuza wanted dead?

  13

  After Kazumi closed the bar for the night, I carried the sleeping boy in my arms and put him in the backseat of the car. He twitched and fidgeted, occasionally whimpering in distress, but remained steadfast asleep. “Dispose of him.” That was what Harada said. He wanted the boy, a witness to murder, gone. Where had everything started to go so quickly downhill? What had shifted Harada’s mindset so much that he was now willing to kill women and children to get what he wanted?

  I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t. That wasn’t me, but now it was putting me between a rock and a hard place. If Harada knew that I still had the boy, that I hadn’t “disposed” of him, I would be branded a traitor. I would be next, no questions. Cut up and shoved into a concrete barrel and dropped at the bottom of Higashi Bay. Nobody would ever miss me, and if by some miracle anyone ever did dig the barrel up, the police wouldn’t look too hard into it. Yakuza tattoo, case closed. Nobody wanted to spend precious tax money investigating gang-on-gang related crimes.

  The boy twitched in the rear-view mirror. No doubt seeing his mother’s last moments, over and over. He was still young, but old enough that he would remember what he saw for the rest of his life. It would change him. Nothing would ever be the same.

  I pulled into the driveway of the house Harada bought for me. Even this was his. Close to Rakucho, but far enough away to escape to if needs be. I enjoyed this neighbourhood. If I climbed to the roof on a clear night, I could see the lights of the big city in the distance. I could see Rakucho, tucked away in a corner like the capital’s secret shame. A necessary evil, but not one we wanted everyone to have access to so easily. You had to work to find it in that giant urban jungle, and once you did, you were on your own. Not quite a lawless man’s land, but at times it may as well have been. Rakucho. My home. My family.

  I put the boy on the couch and grabbed a beer from the fridge. What could I do? Who on earth could take a child, no questions asked? I knew guys who could make a person disappear, I knew guys who could infiltrate companies and sabotage them from the inside, I knew guys who could get you literally what you wanted, when you wanted, and all you had to do was give them a name (and meet their price). Yet I couldn’t think of a single person who could take the boy off my hands. Not without it somehow getting back to Harada that he was still alive. I was stuck with him.

  The light on my phone flashed. A message. It was from Kazumi.

  “Did you make it home okay?”

  “I did. He’s sleeping on the couch,” I replied. Exhaustion washed over me. The house was eerily silent. Another reason I liked it out here. Compared to the constant hustle and bustle of Rakucho, this neighbourhood was quiet. The neighbours no doubt knew what business I was involved in, but I never brought it home, and they never complained. I didn’t play loud music at all hours of the night, and I didn’t rev my car when I arrived home at 2 in the morning. It was a quiet, peaceful neighbourhood, and we all liked it that way. Now, however, that silence felt oppressive. Like something waiting in the darkness to strike. Reaching out with cold, dead hands to wrap around my neck and choke the life out of me. A lifeless, soulless grin as the world went blank, erasing my existence from it.

  “That’s good. If you need anything, let me know, okay? Anytime.”

  She was too good to me. Too good for me. She deserved better than me and my constant problems. I sighed and finished the rest of my beer. A cat ran by outside in the darkness. I liked cats. Felt a certain kinship with them, even. They were free and did whatever they wanted. They could turn from friendly to deadly in an instant. Their curiosity got them into places they shouldn’t be in, but then their fortitude got them back out again. I was in no position to keep a cat myself, but I left a bowl of biscuits and some water outside for the neighbourhood strays.

  Something banged in the living room and I jumped.

  “Kid? You okay?”

  I stuck my head around the corner and stopped. The boy was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the corner. There was nothing there but a vase with some fake flowers I didn’t have to water to keep alive.

  “Kid?”

  He continued staring, and then slowly turned to look at me. His eyes lacked emotion. Lacked life.

  “You okay?” I repeated. He turned back to the wall in silence. Should I approach him? Should I get him a drink? What did you do with kids at 2 in the morning?

  “Hey, do you—”

  “Mama,” he said. I stopped in my tracks. Mama?

  “What’s that?”

  He turned and looked up at me again. He pointed to the corner of the room. At the gaudy vase with the fake flowers. “Mama,” he repeated. “Mama was here.”

  My heart pounded wildly. I looked around the dark room, but we were the only people in it. A clang outside caused me to almost jump out of my skin, and I turned towards the door. There was a hiss and a growl. Just some cats fighting outside. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest.<
br />
  “There’s nobody here. It’s just us,” I said, but the boy shook his head.

  “Mama was here. She looked sad.”

  I squinted in the darkness. Just a vase. Just some shitty fake flowers. I leaned down next to the boy and looked into his eyes.

  “Okay, sure. Mama was here. She probably just wanted to see that you’re okay. Are you okay? Do you need a drink? Food? Toilet?”

  He shook his head and turned to look at the corner again. He was seeing things. Seeing the brutal murder of your mother before your very eyes would mess anyone up, let alone a child.

  “Listen… Rai? You should get some more sleep, okay?” I patted the couch, and he climbed back onto it. What was I going to do with him the next day? I couldn’t just leave him alone in the house while I went to work, but I could hardly bring him with me either. Why was all of this such a mess? I sighed.

  The boy lay his head down and stared at the corner. I pulled a small blanket over him and returned to the kitchen table. I wouldn’t be getting any sleep. Not with all the things I needed to sort out.

  The vase stared at me from the corner. The flowers were something I’d picked up from a dollar store ten years earlier. I didn’t even remember they were there, but now they felt sinister. Like they were watching me. Waiting for me to fall asleep so they could spring to life and poison me. Stab me to death with their thorns. Strangle me with their vines.

  ‘Not tonight,’ I thought. ‘You’ll have me some other time, no doubt, but not tonight.’ I had to figure out what to do with the boy first. Something that didn’t end with both of us buried at the bottom of the bay.

  14

  Kazumi dropped by my house the next morning to watch the boy. It was the best I could do on such short notice. Harada requested my presence personally in his office, and I couldn’t be late. My heart pounded, wondering if he knew, but there was no way. It had only been a few hours. The only places we’d been were Kazumi’s bar and my house. Even if they saw me driving, the boy was asleep in the back, no way to see him. No, this was about something else.