Kazoku

by Tara A. Devlin

  Another man charged me as I stepped out of the boardroom. I couldn’t tell if he was Harada or Toyotomi, but the sword cut him down anyway. It was so sharp, so precise, so sturdy, that it sliced through bone like water. The man’s arm dropped to the ground and his screams were cut short by another flick of the wrist. A Sonsho sword demanded blood. It was about to get all the blood it desired.

  A familiar face came running towards me, a broken mop in hand. The new guy from the other day.

  “Oh, thank god!” he screamed. A man came running after him; he stopped and grinned when he saw me. “The Toyotomi are here!”

  “I can see that.” I could also see the massive wound in his chest that blood poured forth from. He didn’t have much longer before he bled out entirely. I thrust the sword through the Toyotomi man’s chest before he had the chance to finish whatever spiel he was saying and turned to the new guy. The body hit the floor behind us.

  “Where’s Harada?”

  He pointed upstairs. “H-He barricaded himself in his office, but he called everyone in. If they’re not here yet, they’re on their way. E-Everyone who’s left, anyway…”

  “Everyone who’s left?” What was that supposed to mean?

  He nodded, then looked down at the blood pouring out of his chest. His face turned green. “S-Some didn’t answer the call. I don’t blame them. Not after…”

  “…Not after what?” I set my jaw.

  “I-I don’t know his name, sir.”

  My heart threatened to break free of my chest. A buzz filled my ears, and the sword found more flesh to feast upon as another man ran by. Toyotomi. Probably. He didn’t look like a Harada.

  “T-The storeroom, sir. I-In the storeroom…” His eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped. His chest rose and fell rapidly before slowing. He’d be gone before long. The front doors burst open and another rush of men entered. Harada men. They stopped and bowed before me.

  “Sir! What do you need us to do?”

  It was almost comical. Even in the midst of a bloody slaughter they bowed and waited for orders. From me.

  “What do you think? Give ‘em hell.”

  “Yes, sir!” the men replied in unison. The front man started yelling orders, and they took off in different directions throughout the compound. It was rare to see everyone in one place. Harada HQ didn’t look quite so big when the entire family was in it. It was a moment that should have filled me with joy, seeing so many brothers united for the same cause, but instead I felt nothing. Nothing but a burning rage and, somewhere in the back of my neck, a slight prickle. The storeroom. I had to see.

  I bounded up the stairs towards the room, not sure of what would greet me there. I kicked the door open and stepped inside. Darkness and a stench that was all too familiar greeted me. I flicked the light switch on and sickness rose in my throat. Sickness, and a strange sense of satisfaction.

  Kame lay strung up on the wall at the end of the room, electrical cords tying his wrists and legs to the shelves full of cleaning equipment. His head faced the door, his mouth contorted wide in what was no doubt his dying scream. His dead eyes seemed to see right through me, screaming for help that could no longer be given. His upper torso faced the back wall, while his lower torso faced the front. Like a jigsaw puzzled that had been forced together, not quite the right fit but “eh, close enough.” Blood coated the walls, the floor, even the roof. Water trickled from his mouth, forming a puddle beneath him that mingled with blood.

  Swamp water. The stench of it was overwhelming. Yet it wasn’t the only strange thing about the room.

  I looked down at the sword in my hand. The thrum of vibration, the excitement, the bloodlust and near constant chatter that seemed to emit from it went quiet. It was just another piece of metal. Or maybe it had been that way all along, and I attributed too much to the stories. The legends. I snorted. People did tend to exaggerate things in times of distress; see things that weren’t real, hear phantom noises, sense presences where no presences existed.

  Kame was gone, and by the looks of him, painfully so. No man deserved it more. I closed the door behind me and gripped the sword tighter.

  Just Harada left then.

  31

  “Sir.” A man with a deep gash running down his cheek stumbled towards me. “Sir, what are we going to do?”

  I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “Huh?”

  “There’s too many of them, sir. We’re outnumbered. We’re dying here!”

  A body flew over the balcony above, landing with a horrific splat below. Impossible to tell if it was one of ours or one of theirs.

  “Ask Harada, not me. This is his mess. He wanted this.”

  A Toyotomi soldier turned the corner and ran screaming towards us. I shoved the man out of the way and swung upwards, the arc of the Sonsho sword cleaving the man’s ribcage in half. Momentum carried him past us and he collapsed on the floor, bleeding out.

  “H-Harada is locked in his office, s-sir,” the man said, standing back up. “Nobody knows what to do. He won’t open or talk to anyone.”

  Of course not. Something within him had snapped. It wasn’t the Harada we all knew. His desire had warped him, and it was going to take the rest of us down with him.

  “Toyotomi has to be here somewhere. There’s no way he’d let a foot soldier kill Harada and take that from him.” No, it was personal for them. Toyotomi would want to kill him himself. Hard to blame him. “If we can find him, we can end this. Have you seen him?”

  The man shook his head. A plan began to formulate in my mind. Find Toyotomi; he couldn’t be far, he’d be waiting somewhere nearby for his men to get into Harada’s office, no doubt. Special orders not to kill the man on sight, but to restrain him so he also didn’t kill himself first. That would do him no good. I had to find him and then make him a promise too good to refuse.

  I’d take over the clan myself.

  Hard for him to say no to that. He could have Harada. With the way he was carrying on lately, and the massive war he brought down upon the rest of the men, few would look unkindly upon the decision. It was Harada that saw them dying en masse, and his single-sighted pursuit of that entertainment complex development had seen him make numerous enemies, both in and outside of the clan.

  I gripped the sword tighter, veins of heat running up my forearm. Yes. The men would follow me. There weren’t many high-ranking officials left, and if I were the one to stop this, any who survived wouldn’t be able to oppose me. A coup. My father for the rest of my family. A worthy trade.

  Kazumi flashed through my mind. Lying on the floor of her beloved bar, a Toyotomi bullet in her head. Perhaps the son had more in common with his father than he wished to admit? I shook my head. No. I’d have my fill of Toyotomi blood, I wouldn’t deny that. Just like the man I split in half downstairs, the man who had the audacity to mention Kazumi’s name, I wouldn’t mourn for any Toyotomis lost this day. Nor would I consider them best friends in the future, but there were more pressing matters to deal with first.

  ‘I’m sorry, Kazumi.’ I pushed the image aside. I spent the large majority of my life turning my personal feelings off. Now was the time to rely on that. Business first. I could end this. I could.

  “The Tiger!” A voice drew me back from my thoughts. Two men rushed us from the stairs. I raised the sword, and it deflected the metal hurtling towards my face. The Harada man screamed and ran at the other, sending them both tumbling down the stairs. I grabbed the man before me and slammed him into the wall.

  “Where’s Toyotomi?” I growled. He grinned a feral grin and spat on my cheek.

  “I’m not telling you anything.”

  I slammed him again, harder this time. A pained grunt escaped his lips.

  “One more time. Where’s Toyotomi?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  I lifted him off the wall and slammed him into the ground. His head bounced, and he tried to curl into a foetal position, but I pressed my knee forcefully into his chest. I pushed d
own, harder, enjoying his pained cough.

  “Last time. Toyotomi. Where is he?”

  “She never gave you up, you know?”

  I furrowed my brow. “What?”

  The man grinned despite his pain. “That woman. At the bar. She was your girl, right?”

  I pressed the sword into his neck. Blood trickled down it. Maybe I was seeing things, but the sword seemed to soak it in. To glow with the man’s life force.

  “Real pretty thing, she was. We wanted to have a little fun first, but there was no time. A pity. We did question her though. About you. She never said a thing.”

  I pressed the sword harder, fighting the urge to let it keep going and sever his head from his body.

  “Did Toyotomi order the hit? Why?”

  The man laughed. “Why would Toyotomi do that? He doesn’t even know you. You’re a fly to him. A pest. All he wants is Harada.”

  It wasn’t Toyotomi? “Then who?” I growled.

  Another choked laugh. “You don’t even recognise me, do you?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Should I?”

  “I was there. When you dropped the body off. You spoke with Juro.”

  “Juro?” That must have been the lieutenant who spoke to me outside. Two silent men flanked him, obeying his every command. This guy was one of them? “Sorry, you’re just a fly to me,” I said. “A pest.”

  The irony wasn’t lost on him. “Juro passed on your message, alright. With a little… creative embellishment, no doubt. Not that it mattered. The boss has been looking for any reason to bring Harada down for years now. But ya woman, that was personal.”

  “Personal? Why?” The man wasn’t making any sense. Another body went flying over the balcony above. The balcony outside Harada’s office. They still weren’t in yet.

  “For a lieutenant, you’re not very well informed, are you? Makes sense, Harada did pick you, after all. The body you brought us. That was Juro’s little brother. His real brother.”

  A sick feeling rose in the pit of my stomach.

  “Yeah, he takes family real personal, you might say.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “You think he cares? You brought him the body. That’s all he needed to know. Doesn’t matter whether it was your bullet, Harada’s bullet, or some hobo he pulled in off the street. You’re all Harada men. One man does the crime, you all do the crime. You know that. Unlike you, we’re not stupid. We keep up to date on what’s going on around the city and who our enemies are. Never know when you might need a little blackmail or payback, yeah? I would imagine knowing the closest personal relations of your biggest enemies might be something on your radar, as a high-ranking lieutenant for one of the largest yakuza clans in Rakucho, but hey, what do I know?”

  Blood trickled onto the sword again. I was pushing down against his neck without even realising it. My hand trembled.

  “You know what?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You sure do talk a lot.”

  I pulled the sword across his throat, a melody seeming to hum in my head as I did so. My hand continued to tremble; whether it was rage, fear, or the sword’s own excitement, I couldn’t tell. Did it matter?

  The man grabbed his neck, blood spilling over his hands, but he didn’t struggle. He didn’t look fearful; on the contrary, his eyes looked at me with amusement. He’d achieved his goal. He wanted to rile me up, and he did just that. I screamed and swung again. Like playing golf, the sword cut through the man’s neck with little resistance. I stepped over the now still head and towards the corner he’d come from.

  Everyone was upstairs. I had to get up there.

  32

  Men flooded the hall. The stairs to reach the third floor, and thus Harada’s office, were difficult to reach. People had to pass through most of HQ before finding their way there; all by design, of course. Hard to spring a surprise attack when you had to pass through an entire building of men and security cameras first. Not that it mattered now.

  I cut down two men on my way, and one Harada soldier called for help when he saw me, but found himself cut down in the process. So many bodies filled the stairs, with even more rushing them every moment, that getting through with all limbs intact would be a feat, let alone getting through alive.

  “There he is, get him!”

  Two men jumped over the banister and rushed towards me. I laughed. The twins I’d seen in Harada’s office. So they were moles. Why didn’t that surprise me?

  “You’re not going anywhere,” the first said.

  “There’s a sweet little bounty on your head,” the second said. Neither man reached my chest. I flicked the sword, letting the blood coating it settle at their feet.

  “A bounty? I’m honoured.”

  “You should be.” The first grinned. “Toyotomi doesn’t want any distractions, and Harada’s pet dog is a pretty big distraction.”

  “Now, now,” the second chastised. “Nobody’s a pet dog. A pet cat, maybe… Isn’t that right, Tiger?” Sarcasm dripped from every word and the pair laughed like it was the funniest joke known to mankind. “You want a scratch behind the ear, huh? How’s about a belly rub?”

  I took a step back and held the sword up beside me. Both men pulled daggers from their belt.

  “Daggers? Really?” This time I couldn’t help but smile.

  “It’s not all about size, Tiger. It’s about speed, precision, and how you use it.”

  I ducked the sword, turning the handle and letting the blade dip. An upward swing sliced through the body of the first twin, sending a spray of blood all over his brother. The second charged, and the sword switched directions of its own accord, slicing the man’s chest in a matching pattern. The daggers tumbled from his closed fists and he fell to his knees, gurgling.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I said, kicking the man off my feet. The pair gurgled and bled all over Harada’s expensive floor. The last time Rakucho saw a battle this bloody was back in the early days of the Restoration, no doubt. Rakucho was barely even Rakucho then. A collection of huts, tents, and shady traders. No different to now, really, but the illusion was there that she wasn’t entirely out to fleece you of your money and perhaps your life.

  Getting up the stairs was impossible. A loud, rhythmic banging filled the air, followed by gruff yelling. They were trying to get through Harada’s office door. Not much time left.

  How the hell was I supposed to get up there before they got in? I looked around, searching for any other way that wasn’t the stairs. My eyes settled on the nearby window. Bingo.

  I climbed out and stepped onto the window sill. A body crashed through the window downstairs, landing in Harada’s well-kept pond. Reaching up, I gripped the floor of what should have been the tiny kitchen balcony. I pulled, my arms straining to lift my weight as my legs hung in the air beneath me. I swung my right leg up, hooking it on the balcony, and then pulling myself the rest of the way. Scuttling over the fence, I grabbed the handle and stepped inside, my heart pounding. I did it. Third floor kitchen. I was in. Harada’s office was just beyond that door. Just beyond that door and just beyond the numerous armed men trying to get into it.

  “Again!” the muffled voice commanded. A thud, followed by another. I slid over to the kitchen door and pressed my ear to it.

  “Remember, I want him alive,” one voice said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Any man who so much as touches him loses a hand.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “A whole hand. No screwing this up.”

  “Yes, sir. But what if he tries to flee?”

  “Then stop him. But no harming him. He’s mine.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Toyotomi. He was right there. Somebody walked towards the door and I took a step back, attempting to blend into the shadows. Several pots on the wall clanged, and I froze.

  “What was that?”

  “Shit…”

  Nowhere to go. The kitchen was
large enough to boil tea and make lunch, but it was no five-star restaurant. Between the cupboards, cabinets, and cooking utensils decorating the walls, there was barely enough room to stretch my arms out, let alone swing a sword.

  The door flung open, and a gun greeted me.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Sir!” The man kept his eyes on me, his gun steady in his hands. “Sir! You’re gonna wanna see this!”

  “What is it?” An older man with greying hair stepped up behind him. His entire face changed when he saw me, like a grandfather looking upon a grandson for the first time. A smile lit up his face, but he was no gentle old man. His narrowed eyes said otherwise.

  “Well, well. Ask and ye shall receive. If it isn’t the illustrious Tiger of Rakucho. I’m told I have you to thank for delivering my lieutenant earlier tonight.”

  Toyotomi, in the flesh. I’d never seen him up close before. Time had been even harsher on him than Harada, but his dignified appearance spoke measures. An aura radiated off him. Power. Confidence. Experience. Certainty.

  I stepped forward and into the light. “Sir.”

  He looked me up and down. “My, my. You are even bigger than I’d heard. I thought the stories were exaggerations. My father was a big man, you see. They called him the Red Ox. I guess that was the thing back in those days, you know? Oxen were big and strong, just like my dear old dad. He was just as reckless, as well, always rushing into things headfirst. When you don’t feel any pain, well, I suppose you would, wouldn’t you? What’s there to lose?” He looked me over once more and gave a small nod, smiling. “Yes. It all makes sense now.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What? Oh, nothing. Nothing. Old man business, don’t worry your big pretty head over it. Now, you were most kind to bring me my lieutenant tonight, I must thank you for that. He was a bit of a bumbling fool, yes, but I will admit I had a soft spot for him. Very big heart on that man. Very big. Very loyal. It would have torn me up inside not knowing what happened to him.”