by Kyoko M
“Kabukicho?” Kamala asked as they made their way back towards the train station. “Isn’t that a district where some of the yakuza have been sighted?”
“Someone’s done their homework. Yes, it is.”
“Aren’t we walking into the lion’s den? What if it’s a trap?”
“Then we’ll deal with it. If you need answers, we need to track down the man who helped transport the dragon. If you’ve got a better idea, I’d like to hear it.”
“What about Okegawa? Your contacts haven’t seen him since he landed?”
Fujioka shook her head. “No, he’s too well-hidden.”
“What about Yagami?”
Fujioka cut her eyes over at the scientist. “If Kabukicho is the lion’s den, then Yagami’s mansion is the dragon’s lair. It would be unwise to provoke him at this juncture, Dr. Anjali.”
“I refuse to believe he can’t be reasoned with. He knows we’re not going to stop until we get Pete back. There has to be room to negotiate.”
“Dr. Anjali, if you feel so inclined to knock on his door and confront him about stealing your dragon, then there isn’t a thing I can do to stop you. But keep in mind, that will terminate our agreement. I cannot guarantee your safety if you go looking for trouble. I’m here to protect you, but I’m not going to endanger myself in the process.”
Kamala narrowed her eyes at the older woman. “You think he’ll kill me.”
“No. But I do think he’ll use you to get what he wants.”
“How so?”
“He made it clear that no one is to harm you. He made no such promise about Jack. I imagine that if you arranged a meeting with him, he would ask you to surrender the information he needs and he’ll call off the bounty. If you refuse, he’ll use you as a bargaining chip to get Jack to cooperate instead.”
Jack grimaced. “He thinks I’m that gullible?”
“Not gullible, Jack. Vulnerable.”
Jack swallowed hard. Kamala observed him through her peripheral and sighed quietly. “Very well. What about Yagami’s family? There is disparity between him and his sister Keiko, as well as his father. Do you think they might turn him in if we asked for their help?”
Fujioka paused, thinking about it. “Bold. Offhand I’d say it’s foolhardy. The Sugimoto family is infested to its core with pride. To suggest that Yagami stole the dragon would probably anger his father, and that’s assuming he’d agree to meet with you in the first place. His sister is a different story. She’s a snake. It’s possible that she might offer him up just so she has a clear path to run the company, but sometimes blood is thicker than water. We’ll consider it a last ditch effort if this tattoo artist can’t get us on the right track.”
After they entered the station, Kamala stopped to use the ladies’ room. Jack and Fujioka waited outside, leaning against the wall opposite.
“So,” Fujioka said. “Why the hell haven’t you told Dr. Anjali that you’re in love with her?”
“W-What?” Jack sputtered, gaping at her.
“You heard me.”
“How—when—where are you getting that from?”
Fujioka rolled her eyes. “I watch people for a living, Jack. You couldn’t be more obvious if you chained yourself to her wrist and followed her around on all fours.”
“Jesus Christ, woman, you have zero tact.”
Fujioka shrugged. “Saves time. And you haven’t answered my question.”
“Why is that any of your business?”
She opened her mouth, then hesitated. After a moment, she smirked. “Call it professional curiosity. You aren’t the same man I knew three years ago. I thought you knew better.”
Jack glanced around distractedly at the people passing by. “Is this really the place to bring that up?”
“We’re not going to get much alone time. This might be my only chance to ask.”
“Get used to disappointment.”
Fujioka scowled. “Don’t be patronizing. It irritates me.”
“Lot of that going around, huh?”
“She asked me if I slept with you.”
Jack froze. “She did?”
“While you were showering. I told her.”
Jack stepped closer, his voice low and urgent. “How much did you tell her?”
“Not all of it,” she said, and his shoulders relaxed somewhat. “But the fact that she asked me implies some very interesting things.”
Jack blinked a few times. “Uh, like what?”
Fujioka rubbed her sinuses. “Chikushō. Tell me you’re not still this naïve.”
“Screw naïve. What are you talking about? What does that imply?”
“Let me guess: you haven’t been in a relationship since I left, have you?”
Jack bristled. “That’s… I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Because you haven’t learned a single thing since then. What possible reason could you have not to tell her the truth? Do you think you’re protecting her?”
“It’s not like that, alright? I just…” He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze. “…haven’t found the right time. Things are complicated enough. I won’t add to it. We’ll worry about that when I don’t have the freaking yakuza hunting me down like a dog.”
“There won’t be a right time. You know that better than most.”
He snorted. “You’re one to talk.”
Fujioka’s eyes flashed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know damn well what I mean. Don’t dig into my personal life and I won’t dig into yours.”
She lifted her chin slightly. “If you have something to say, then say it.”
“You don’t get to judge my timing after what happened the night before you left.”
She crossed her arms. “You’re acting like I did something wrong.”
He laughed bitterly. “If you think that, then we really don’t have anything else to discuss.”
“You weren’t supposed to get attached. I told you that when we began.”
He leaned down to her height, his hard gaze burrowing into hers. “Neither were you.”
“I’m ready,” Kamala said, jogging towards them as she exited the bathroom.
Fujioka clenched her jaw and brushed past Jack towards the boarding platform.
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER NINE
STAB MY BACK
If there was a way to overdose on bright lights, crowds, and noise, Jack thought Kabukicho was certainly the way to do it.
Like Time Square in New York, the first things you’d notice are the and dozens of neon lights, advertisements, smiling beauties, and vendors eagerly selling their hearts out. A towering sign of overlapping crimson hung at the area’s entrance, beckoning people deeper into its welcoming, nearly overwhelming grip. The sun had already set, so the nightlife was in full swing. Fujioka warned Jack and Kamala to stay linked together through the crowds, and she brought up the rear rather than walk ahead. Kamala was asked if she’d be interested in working for a maid café and Jack was asked to step inside one of the hostess bars to be served by gorgeous women. They kept a brisk pace and learned to say no without breaking stride to keep Fujioka from having to stop constantly.
The Painted Peach was a small shop buried at the center of Kabukicho, next to a thrift shop and an electronics store. The space had previously belonged to a food vendor. There was a thick glass front counter with a short-haired tattooed woman sitting behind it, flipping through a magazine. Sample tattoos on bright white paper hung all around the plate-glass window, bursting with colors. Everything from simple kanji and katakana to elaborate landscapes of rising suns and castles were depicted in the samples. People stopped to admire them before continuing onward.
The woman at the counter glanced up placidly as Jack, Kamala, and Fujioka approached.
“Yokosō.”
Jack nod
ded to her. “Yuzuki-san wa kanōdesu ka?”
The woman’s eyes widened as he spoke, but she nodded. She walked through the narrow front of the shop, decorated with various vases, figurines, and paintings, behind a shōji sliding door. A moment later, a tall, thin woman in her late thirties emerged. The right side of her hair was shaved down to a buzzcut with the left side long, thick, and glossy. Like Kamala, she had a nose stud, and rings adorning nearly every finger. She wore a black tank top and faded blue jeans over boots. Brilliant scarlet, violet, blue, and black tattoos of birds and flowers crawled down her arms.
She cast a brief glance at the trio before crossing her arms. “Yuzuki desu.”
Fujioka stepped forward, tilting her head in greeting. “Fujioka desu.” She gestured to Jack and Kamala in turn. “Kore wa Jackson-sensei to Anjali-sensei. Watashitachi iru anata no tasuke”
Yuzuki eyed them. “Dō shimashita ka?”
Fujioka explained their plight briefly and then showed her a picture of the tattoo. Through all of it, Yuzuki’s distant disinterest was clear and she took her time before replying.
“She says she finished that tattoo about two months ago,” Fujioka said. “The client had been coming by three times a month for four months because he wanted it done in the traditional style, not with modern technology. His name is Ken Nakamura. She thinks he might live in the Shinjuku area.”
“Does she have any information from him?” Jack asked. “Phone number? Address? Credit card information?”
Fujioka asked. Yuzuki answered in a clipped tone. “She says he makes appointments in person and always pays cash.”
“Dammit. Did he talk much when she did his tattoos?”
Fujioka translated the question. “She says he talked about moving up in the ranks recently, starting as a delivery boy. His next promotion would be enforcer.”
“What about a meeting place? Do they have a watering hole in this area?”
Fujioka asked. Yuzuki paused. “She says a ramen shop a few stores down where some of them meet for supper. He might be there tonight with his friends.”
Jack motioned for them to step a little further away from the front of the window and whispered, “What do you think? Should we go after him?”
“There is no ‘we’ in that instance. You would be as subtle as a tank that’s on fire. Dr. Anjali would stick out nearly as much.”
“Maybe we can use that to our advantage,” Kamala said. “Like you said, attacking the problem head-on is asking for trouble. Do you think you might be able to pick-pocket his phone if we created a distraction?”
“That’s dangerous. He could try to abduct Jack in the process. They’ve been circulating your picture around, so they’ll know it’s you.”
“We’re short on time here,” Jack said. “Even if you tail the guy, what if he goes to a love hotel for eight hours? Pete’s been gone for two days now and there’s no telling what they’ve done to her. The longer we wait, the less likely we are to find her. If we get his phone, we might be able to get Okegawa’s number, or the number of the person who ordered him to transport the dragon from customs to wherever she is now. It’s worth a try, right?”
Fujioka exhaled through her nose. “Jack—”
“Please.” Jack laid a hand on her shoulder. “Please, Misaki. At least give it a shot. If it falls through, then we’ll head back to the apartment and you can tail him.”
She held his gaze for a moment and then cursed under her breath. “Fine.”
She turned to Yuzuki and bowed her head. “Arigato gozai mashita.”
“Hai.”
Fujioka nodded towards the streets of Kabukicho. “Come along, idiots. Let’s go risk your lives.”
~*~
Ken Nakamura was short and thick with slicked-back hair and a silver ring on his left hand for good luck. He’d been brought into the Yamaguchi-gumi clan later on in life, after his father died, leaving his mother working two jobs to pay the bills. He fancied himself on the fast track to success, if he stayed the course. He had seen several of his friends get introduced to the kyodai, or “big brothers,” higher up in the organization, with the eventual goal of becoming one of the big fish. He’d found it easier than he thought to follow orders, and most of the time, his tasks were simple. Most people involved with them fell in line quickly. The only true threat was running into anyone from Inagawa-kai, a rival clan who mainly operated in Tokyo.
Needless to say, Nakamura was rather surprised when a tall white man stomped into the ramen shop and bellowed his name like he was god himself.
He slurped the remaining mouthful of noodles and swiveled in his chair, staring at the stranger in disbelief. He nearly fell off his stool. The man who owned the stolen dragon was standing right there.
He wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve and stood, motioning for his two friends on either side of him to chill out. Nakamura smirked and shook his head.
“[What the hell do you want?]”
“You have information I want,” Jack said, oblivious to the other patrons staring at him as if he’d completely lost his mind. “We need to talk.”
“[Is he serious?]” One of Nakamura’s friends asked, chortling.
“[Maybe he’s drunk.]”
As if on cue, Jack took several stumbling steps towards the smaller man, glaring daggers with slightly unfocused eyes. He stuck a finger in Nakamura’s face, scowling deeply.
“So, what’s it gonna be? You gonna tell me where my dragon is or am I gonna have to mess up that pretty mug you got?”
Nakamura held up his hands and offered a knife-edged smile. “No problem,” he said in accented English. “I will tell you exactly what you need to know.”
Jack hadn’t been punched in the face in years, but he still didn’t remember it hurting quite this much.
Nakamura’s buddies were on either side of him, holding his arms to keep him from escaping, while the kid worked him over in the narrow alley behind the ramen shop. The owner was apparently a friend of Nakamura’s, so there wouldn’t be anyone intervening unless they wanted trouble.
Nakamura stepped back and shook out his shoulders, rubbing his knuckles and frowning as he realized he’s split them. Even on his knees, Jack was nearly as tall as Nakamura. His cheek had a shallow cut where Nakamura’s fist had grazed it. Unbeknownst to his assailants, Jack had been angling his face between blows to minimize damage, but with blood running down his nose and mouth, he still looked pretty pathetic.
Nakamura spat contemptuously and jutted out his chin, still speaking English in a mocking tone. “Had enough, pretty boy?”
Jack grinned, his teeth painted dark red. Nakamura glared.
“What’re you smiling at, bitch?”
“I’m really going to enjoy what she’s about to do to you.”
“She?”
Jack’s eyes slid to behind Nakamura, but by then it was much too late. Just as he turned, Fujioka smashed Nakamura in the temple with a swift, beautifully executed roundhouse kick. He hit the ground face-first, unconscious before he’d even seen her.
His friends jumped back from Jack like they’d been electrocuted, gaping at the woman staring calmly at them as if she hadn’t just dropped their friend like a sack full of cabbages.
“Run or fight,” Fujioka barked, her dark eyes narrowed at the remaining men. “Choose.”
“Bitch!” one of them snarled, reaching into his pocket and flicking out a switchblade. He charged her with a wide swipe, aiming for her chest. Fujioka side-stepped and kneed him in the groin. He shrieked and crumpled in half, the knife clinking harmlessly to the ground. She kicked him in the forehead and he fell limp next to his friend.
The third guy had also drawn his knife, but after his friend charged, Jack had leapt to his feet and grabbed his right arm. Jack twisted his wrist into an arm lock and then slammed his head into the wall behind them, knocking him out.
Jack spit
out a glob of blood and wiped his nose, grinning at Fujioka. “Haven’t changed a bit, I see.”
Fujioka rolled her eyes and squatted next to Nakamura, flipping him onto his back. “I reiterate that this was a stupid, dangerous plan.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
She retrieved the boy’s phone and stuffed it into her back pocket, stepping over the unconscious men towards him. “How much does your face hurt?”
Jack waved the comment off. “Granite chin. Stung at first, but I can’t feel much now.”