Matsumoto’s stare was searing, his aged face taut as he grimaced at her. “Stupid child. What do you know? Nothing! You want to know what ‘they’ think? I’ll tell you. A little boy born to a Korean mother during the War, even though his father is Japanese—he’s nothing. And to his Japanese father, the half-Korean boy is also nothing just like his mother—the mother his father never loved!”
He watched Matsumoto’s face tinge maroon and pulse with veins.
“I was that boy!” he roared. “That’s right. The Great Oyabun Shin Matsumoto is a half-breed bastard, too. Hafu!” Like a runaway train, Matsumoto fired off a rant he wouldn't, couldn’t stop. “Do you know how we suffered? How hard our life was? Why? Were we not good enough? Because she was poor and Korean? Because I was only half? Half of what? Half a man? Let me ask something—do we not also bleed if you strike us?”
Ryu watched in horror as a raging Matsumoto shuffled over to Tyler who had raised his head and dared to look him in the eye. Matsumoto snatched the front of Tyler’s collar, pulling him up. Glowering, eyes wild with ire, Matsumoto drew back an arm and swung, driving Tyler back with a single punch. Screams rang out. From Haruna. From Claudia. Tyler dropped like a bag of sand. He wheezed. Matsumoto drove a foot into his belly.
Ryu’s eyes darted to Claudia, who’d screamed a second time. To her side, Ryu caught the look in Katsuo’s eyes, a look of indifference.
“ARGHHH!”
Ryu flinched. Matsumoto had struck Tyler for the third time. And then Matsumoto’s glare stabbed back like thorns. He sneered at everyone, at Ryu as though challenging him.
“I’m yakuza, and so what? This world isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. The only thing left is anger. Revenge.”
From somewhere afar was the sudden sound of shattering glass, a shriek from Matsumoto's wife and a thunderous explosion. The sliding doors burst open, and several enforcers stumbled in, coughing and heaving.
“F-FIRE!”
Everything devolved into chaos. Shouting incomprehensible commands, the men parted to allow Matsumoto to exit first, but as oxygen came in short supply, nostrils assaulted by the toxic stench of gasoline, lungs flooding with smoke, desperation took over. It was each man and woman for themselves. Heart-thrashing, Ryu’s thoughts spun in all directions. Haruna. He cycled back. She was free from the hold of the goons, hunched over, covering her mouth with her shirt collar and pinching her nose. Ryu skidded across the room.
He rasped, fighting his cough, “We need to get out of here.”
She squinted, first at him, then over his shoulder. Ryu twisted to see Tyler still on the floor, coughing blood and struggling to his feet.
Oh. Great.
“I’m okay, b-but,” Haruna managed, her voice trembling, her breathing laboured, “you need to help him.”
Tyler wasn't worth saving, Ryu knew it better than he knew most things. But there was no time to argue. Ryu rushed over. Down on one knee, Ryu hoisted Tyler up, allowing Tyler’s arm to flop over his shoulder for support. Haruna joined them and they lumbered out of the room only to be met by a gruesome scene. Bodies. Everywhere. Ryu didn’t have time to study their faces. Choking on smoke, bypassing pockets of flames and fallen debris, they made their way to a side-door.
Air.
Cold December air.
The weight lifted from Ryu’s shoulder, and he cocked his head as Tyler shuffled, stumbled, and sunk to the ground. Ryu gave a snort and refocused on Haruna. Her breathing had evened out.
The gunshots came at rapid-fire.
With a lurch Ryu swept Haruna back. Their sides braced against the wall as several bullets ricocheted off the edge in a near miss.
“ōi…”
Tyler broke their silence.
With a limp, he made another attempt to rise to his feet, his lip swollen and bleeding, cheeks bruised and puffy. He looked horrible as he stood, swaying, resembling a scarecrow or, Ryu thought, definitely the clown from Saw.
“What the fuck is going on?” Tyler sputtered, spitting more blood.
Ear-splitting wails, a sea of them washed over them.
“War,” Ryu said.
The three inched closer. They watched as two enforcers and a foot soldier were met with a barrage of bullets. Several others made a dive, puddles splashing. The gunfire was returned. Ryu spotted Katsuo, who sailed forward to knee a man in the groin. He slammed another over the head with locked fists. Matsumoto was guarded by White Flowers wielding branches, bricks, pocket knives, pistols—anything they could lay their hands on. They were outnumbered but holding their own. For now.
By this point Ryu knew that he, Haruna, or even Tyler were the last thing on their minds.
War wasn’t something anyone saw coming. No one saw it, except Ryu.
Big-time mobsters and small-time gangsters understood one thing about the life: a man can’t afford to be too into his feelings. Many couldn’t waste their energy on relationships beyond their band of brothers. Other people would always be number two in their lives no matter what. But one thing Ryu noticed was, even so, there were exceptions: their blood. In particular, mothers. Jo Szeto was one such gangster. In their world, it was an open secret. Szeto loved his mother very much, even if she continually threatened to disown him so long as he went along this shameful path of criminality. Then again… he was her only child. Her only son.
And how might Szeto feel knowing that one-thousand plus kilos of speeding metal had smashed through his dear mother’s house? Or that a bunch of funeral flowers had been dropped at her doorstep? This was the answer. The answer Ryu was banking on. A fragile ego. A thirst for vengeance. The many men that had showed up on Matsumoto’s lot and firebombed his mansion weren’t just Roosters. They were the big boys. They were Triads.
Before the smoke could clear, a man stepped out from behind a row of parked cars. His arm lashed out, weapon aimed for the oyabun.
“NO!”
Katsuo lunged, his arms outstretched. Claudia's bloodcurdling scream tore through them like a whip, and Ryu watched, heart in his throat as the man pulled the trigger. The gun went off. Katsuo stumbled and plunged to the ground like an anchor at sea.
Ryu whipped around, feeling Haruna’s squeeze at his arm. He ducked, shielding her a second time, urging her and Tyler to get low and stay back. More bullets flew. Ryu shut his eyes and buried his chin and face in her hair. He drew his breaths slowly. Deeply.
Don’t think about it. What just happened isn’t important.
Ryu lifted his head to look at her, taking in her nearness to him, the way their breaths rose and intertwined. He thought she’d say something. He’d be comforted if she only would. Instead she stared past him, shell-shocked. She was on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Haruna, listen to me… you need to relax."
“…I can’t. I can't…”
Ryu gripped her by the shoulders but she wouldn’t stop shaking. “It’ll be okay—” I need you to be okay.
For me.
“No!” Her cry rattled him, sounding oddly high-pitched. Child-like. Her face was flushed pink and moist from tears. From sweat. He ran a hand along her cheek. It was cold. “I was there,” she sobbed, “I saw it. I saw them do it.”
Ryu wrinkled his brows. “What?”
“It happened… just like this…” she sniffled and whimpered. “Please… make them stop!”
“I don’t understand…” Something was off. She wasn’t making sense.
“Yo…”
Ryu lifted his head at Tyler’s second interjection. His mouth was pulled into a grin, his eyes stretched wider than what seemed possible, a finger pointed in Ryu’s direction, “You’re bleeding.”
Only when Tyler mentioned it did Ryu register the hot, prickling sensation in his lower back. He felt along his side, dabbing, feeling the warmth. Feeling the wet. He brought his arm around and stared at his open palm. Blood. Dark. Thick. Crimson. So much of it all at once drenching, staining his hand. A
ll of it his.
“No…”
Haruna’s voice. Ryu’s eyes shifted back, gazing deeply into her own, the fright screaming in them. Even behind her lopsided, misted glasses, Haruna’s irises were clear and radiant like crystals. Were they blue? Were they green? What about that halo of gold in their centre? Her eyes. Her face. Everything blurred together. Ryu felt the dizziness. He could make out the distant sounds of a battlefield.
POP-POP-POP.
Again and again. Like a morbid song set on repeat. Hollering. Firing. Bawling. Sirens.
“PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS!”
Ryu's world cycled round and round like a spinning top dreidel. He blinked. Everything was going dim. Everything was turning black.
Another sound. A single gunshot.
“Ryu! Ryu, wake-up!”
The girl called out. The girl whose voice was like song birds, pretty, warm, but in that moment wounded, terrified. Her voice was far… far away.
“Ryu, please wake-up!”
Her cry was all he could hear.
And then he heard nothing else.
November 4, 1998
thirteen years prior
Ryu stares down at the tip of his finger. There's a thick coat of chocolate frosting on it. He glides it across his tongue. It's sweet. He looks to a pretty girl with two messy pigtails.
"See? See? Good, right?" she says.
Ryu nods. She is right.
"Oh no! You guys! We have to cut the cake first!"
Ryu scrambles down from the chair he's standing on. The girl climbs down too. Fidgeting nervously, Ryu looks up as the lady with yellow hair enters the kitchen; a kind lady that looks a lot like the pretty girl with the pigtails.
Ryu is racked with guilt, but the girl—her eyes light up with her tiny laughter.
"Bad girl, Haruna Catherine. You're getting poor Ryu in trouble again?" the lady says.
Haruna shakes her head, still grinning. "No, Mummy."
Ryu looks over, hearing the footsteps. Arriving in the kitchen, a lady with long, curly hair. She looks a little like Ryu. Haruna's mother turns, shaking her yellow-haired head.
"Oh Jessica, look. They've made a mess of the cake. You spent so much time baking it, too."
Jessica laughs. "These two are trouble." She glances at Ryu. He's embarrassed. He doesn't want to disappoint his mother. But she only smiles and winks. Relieved, Ryu grins.
"I don't mind, really, Grace. They can eat it now if they like. Why don't we cut it?"
Grace nods, looking relieved. "Gosh, she gets so hyper when they're together. I can barely control her."
Ryu returns his finger to his mouth and sucks on it. He glances over at Haruna. She twirls in place. Her red and white dress flutters.
Jessica squats low so she is as tall as they are. "Haru-chan likes Ryu-chan a lot, ne?"
Haruna stops spinning. She nods, eagerly, her arms out to the sides as though hugging the world. "Haru-chan likes Ryu-kun lots and lots!"
Ryu looks on as their mothers start to laugh. His cheeks feel warm. His insides feel warm.
“Bonitinha,” Jessica coos. She tickles Haruna on the nose.
There's a sudden knock at the door that carries into the room from the foyer. It's followed by the sound of many feet walking along creaking wooden floors. The old house always creaks. Ryu hears three deep voices but does not recognize one of them. He looks to his mother who stands up all of a sudden with her eyebrows pressed together. She walks over to the kitchen door. She walks fast. She cranes her neck to take a peek. She pulls back.
"Who is it?" Grace asks.
Jessica presses a finger to her lips and waves Grace over. Ryu wants to see. Haruna trails behind her mother like a puppy, skipping. Ryu follows her. Slowly. Silently.
"Mummy—!" Haruna cries.
"Shh!" Grace places a finger over her own mouth the way Jessica had, her eyes stern on a pouting, restless Haruna.
Ryu is on the tips of his toes, trying to see over Haruna's head, peering through the small space between their mothers. Standing in the entranceway, his dad, and beside him, Haruna's dad. Both of them speak to a strange man Ryu has never seen before.
"Father is not pleased," the man says.
"He's made his decision—back off!" Haruna's dad, Seijin, shouts.
"Stay out of this. This doesn't concern you," the man says, his voice sounding mean.
"Of course it concerns me! He's my friend!"
"Seijin-kun, shut up, okay? I can handle this," Ryu's dad, Takeshi, says. He sounds angry but Haruna's dad looks even angrier. He continues to talk to the strange man.
"I don't understand. Why won't you leave them, Katsuo-kun? You had a good family—you started high school at the top of our class. You can do better than—"
"Seijin-kun! This is between me and Katsuo!" Takeshi interrupts, now shouting.
The strange man named Katsuo laughs, but it isn't a happy laugh.
"No, let this fool talk. You think the same, don't you, Akuma? Yet, you were the reason I chose this. ‘Cause I was your best friend, remember? I stuck by you. Where was this guy when we shared sake and took the oath? Oh right—in a monastery." Katsuo draws his arms to his sides. "And now you think you can just walk away?"
"Takeshi. Not Akuma. Not anymore," Takeshi says. “And you know why I walked away.”
Katsuo glares. "For some whore?"
"Takeshi-kun—no!" Seijin hollers.
Ryu flinches, watching his dad raise a fist to the strange man named Katsuo. The fist strikes Katsuo’s face, and he stumbles back. Seijin throws his arms around Takeshi's middle. Seijin looks like he's struggling to hold Takeshi back. Ryu's dad is very strong and very angry at Katsuo.
"Call her a whore again," Takeshi growls. He sounds like… he looks like a demon.
Katsuo is holding on to a wall, as it is the only thing that stops him from falling. He wipes at his lip that has started to bleed. He looks angry too.
"So that's your answer…?"
"How about you get the hell out of my house, you piece of shit? And don't ever come back. That's my answer," Takeshi says.
Katsuo's mouth forms a small smile, but not a happy smile. He dips his head, then walks to where the front door is. Is he leaving now?
Ryu feels his mother's arms slowly draw him back by the shoulders. She sniffs. Her voice sounds a little weird, like she has a cold, "You two—play in the next room, okay?"
Ryu glances up at his mother. She also wears a smile, but there’s something wrong with it. Ryu is confused. And a little scared. He twists back to see if he could see through the door, see where his dad is in the next room. His mom and Haruna's mom leave the kitchen. Ryu wants to follow them. Before Ryu could think, think maybe he’ll go there too, Haruna's hand is on his. She tugs him away. He watches the back of Haruna's light-haired head, watches the flurry of her dress like dancing flower petals.
Once inside the room, they pull back the paper doors. Haruna had brought a sketchbook and crayons to colour with, and so she found them and a cushion on the floor to sit on. Ryu doesn't feel like drawing, so he sits down across from her and watches her do it. She lifts her head.
"What are you drawing?" Ryu asks. She presses the book against her chest.
"Not telling," she says, and she sticks her tongue out.
"Why not?" Ryu asks. He leans in.
"It's a surprise," she then lowers her eyes, and turns her body away from him. "I'm drawing a picture for Ryu-kun's birthday."
Ryu repeats back the word, “birthday.” It sounds different the way she says it. The way his mom and dad had taught him.
She smirks at him. "I like you. You talk funny."
“No,” he says quietly, not looking at her. “You do.”
Haruna doesn't seem to hear him, and she continues to draw in her sketchbook. Ryu finds his box of Lego blocks and begins to stack them. After a while, even this is boring. Ryu turns his head, wanting to look out the wind
ow. He sees something unusual: a person passing by. Ryu gets up and goes in for a closer look. His nose presses against its glass. There are some men in the distance, all with wild hair, some curly, and with scary faces. They also wear weird clothes, and Ryu is sure he's never seen anyone like them before.
The ground begins to shake.
The sound of a million fireworks goes off at once, like the way they do in the summer. Ryu smells the smoke right as he loses balance. He falls to the ground.
'Ryu-kun!"
Ryu picks himself up and feels Haruna’s hands reaching for him. Confused, he turns again, this time unable to take his eyes off the window. Haruna's father is outside now, yelling something at one of the strange men, one with a bat in his hand. The strange man lifts the bat. He swings.
"DADDY!"
Ryu looks to Haruna. Her eyes are big, really big, and she is crying and the sound of her scream—the sound stays with Ryu and rings in his ear for a long time. The house is starting to feel hot. It smells like hundreds of candles being put out at the same time. Someone else is screaming. His mother? Haruna's mother?
"We have to get Mummy!" Haruna cries.
She breaks into a run.
Ryu runs after her. They go back through the door to where their parents were… should have been. But there is smoke. It seems like a dream. Like it just isn't real. And Ryu doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what's happening. He coughs. It’s difficult to breathe. Haruna's fingers grasp his own, and she tugs. He stumbles after her, but where are they going? He's dizzy. His head hurts. His eyes burn. They make it through an exit. Ryu can't run anymore—he feels too tired and breathing is too hard. They're outside. Haruna glances back at him and he sees her face, tear-streaked, absent of colour. He hears voices. His mother's? Ryu shuts his eyes and collapses.
CHAPTER eleven
light shines through the prism
It was night time.
Dark.
Real dark.
Usually Ryu would have already been in bed, asleep. But this day was different. It was his fourth birthday. He’d been allowed to go outside and play and eat candy until his belly ached. And people visited—so rarely people ever visited. And his best friend was there too. His only friend: Haru-chan.
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