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The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide

Page 22

by Amy Tasukada


  Aki closed the door and pointed to Nao’s hospital bracelet. “Will the hospital staff let you out?”

  They weren’t going to let him go. Everyone knew who the Matsukawa godfather was, and Kurosawa had the doctor at his beck and call. The moment Nao left the hospital Kurosawa would be notified. Then in no time he’d be out searching for Nao. Aki would be in trouble, too. Nao didn’t have enough time to deal with Kurosawa and his crap.

  “We need a distraction,” Nao said. “Then we’re going to get the accounting books from the geisha house and go over them with Yuiko. After that, you take the books back, then return to headquarters.”

  “Whatever it is you’re trying to solve,” Aki said, “allow me to be by your side helping you by any means necessary.”

  “I don’t need you to help any more than returning the books. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be tied to the bed.” Nao gave a half smile. “Now, let’s cause a distraction.”

  Nao tucked the hospital bracelet into the cuff of his shirtsleeve before stepping into the hall. It was quiet, but it wouldn’t be for long. Nao padded to the next room over with Aki following. An old man lay in the bed.

  It was perfect.

  “Want me to cause a commotion at the end of the hall, then meet you outside?” Aki asked.

  Nao shook his head. “We need something big, or else the doctors might not be distracted for long. I need to get things finished before Kurosawa notices I’m gone.”

  Nao stepped closer to the bed.

  “What are you going to do?” Aki whispered.

  “Making sure no one comes looking for me.”

  Aki pressed his lips together but stood by the door.

  Wires and tubes hooked all over the old man’s body, and in that brief moment, Nao was happy his father hadn’t lived long enough for machines to control his bodily functions. Nao swallowed. If he had told the truth about Saehyun from the beginning his father might still be alive. It didn’t matter. What was done was done, and Nao couldn’t blame himself for it anymore.

  The heart machine beeped out a steady rhythm, and Nao’s hand tingled as he grabbed the old man’s pillow. Nao slid it out from under him without even waking the man. It would be easier to unclick the heart monitor from the old man’s finger.

  Nao glanced back at Aki. He would continue to daydream that their little moaning sessions meant something more if Nao didn’t stop it. Telling Aki it meant nothing didn’t deter his feelings. Perhaps showing Aki every part of Nao would finally make him realize they couldn’t be together.

  He squashed the pillow between his fingers. The old man kind of looked like Detective Yamada. The stupid asshole would rather see the Matsukawa destroyed than give Nao even an extra day to find the right person spreading drugs all over the city.

  Nao smashed the pillow over the man’s face. The man jerked awake and clawed Nao’s arm, but the anger toward Yamada pressed Nao more. He leaned forward, adding more weight against the pillow. The man’s arm slackened then fell limp. The steady beat of the heart monitor became erratic, but Nao continued. Yamada didn’t deserve any mercy if he wasn’t going to show the Matsukawa any.

  The alarm rang and woke Nao out of the fantasy. He slipped the pillow back underneath the man and walked out of the room, not giving a second look to Aki or the rushing of hospital staff behind him.

  He walked out the front door and took in a deep breath of the moist air outside. He’d slept enough and had enough pain meds pumped into him that he could get everything done before Kurosawa noticed.

  “Were you really going to suffocate him?” Aki asked.

  “It caused the best distraction.” Nao shrugged. “He’s not dead. So everything is fine.”

  Aki bit his lip but said nothing more. Good. Aki saw the kind of person Nao really was. Maybe his standard line of “anything you desire” would no longer be his go-to line in answering Nao’s questions.

  “Go call a taxi to take us to the historic district,” Nao said.

  “S-sure, but I drove here,” Aki said.

  “You know how to drive?”

  “All new recruits are required to get their license for deliveries.”

  Deliveries were code for taking a body to the Matsukawa furnaces in the mountains.

  “I’ll drive you wherever you desire.”

  Aki wasn’t going to drop the line, was he?

  NAO NEEDED TO LEARN how to drive. Then he wouldn’t have to involve someone else in his activities. He glanced at Aki’s eyes through the rearview mirror, but Aki focused on the road more than the city. Nao couldn’t do it. Kyoto deserved his full attention.

  The car stopped at a streetlight. With Obon finished, most of the tourists had left the city, so the people crossing the street were citizens of Kyoto. They needed Nao to find the traitor. The drugs would erode the city if he couldn’t get them off the streets, and even people not connected with the underworld would see the effects in their neighborhoods.

  Whatever Yuiko had found would determine whom Nao would center his last twenty-four hours of freedom on. But at this late hour, she would be working and not carrying her cell phone. The only way to know her schedule would be to ask the mother of her geisha house. Nao sighed. Hopefully, she’d be willing to cooperate.

  The car rolled forward, and a new view of the city’s buildings emerged.

  “How long did it take you to learn to drive?” Nao asked.

  “I passed the test the first time. So only a couple of months.”

  Most people failed the first time.

  “I never learned to drive,” Nao mumbled.

  Aki smiled. “I can be your official driver.”

  “That’s impossible. You’re not even finished with your apprenticeship. I can’t believe I dragged you into this mess to start with.”

  “I’m happy to help any way you desire.”

  “Stop saying that!” Nao’s chest tightened. “Nothing will come of it.”

  Aki frowned. “Forgive me. What I meant to say is I’ll do whatever I can for the Matsukawa.”

  “Then say that and don’t sound like you’re begging to get on your knees.”

  Out in the air the words sounded harsher than Nao had intended.

  Aki’s hands slipped on the steering wheel. “Murata, may I ask a question about the tea I serve you?”

  Nao’s thoughts were more caught up in not being thrown in jail than tea. Aki didn’t know better than to worry about such minor things.

  “You serve it perfectly.”

  “It’s more about the order,” Aki continued. “When you don’t request a specific tea, I’m not sure which you’d rather drink. You enjoy the cream oolong best, but I don’t want to—”

  “How do you know I like cream best?”

  Aki pressed his palms against the steering wheel. “I was there when you tried it.”

  The turn signal clicked away in their silence.

  “How?” Nao asked.

  “After your father’s funeral, I brought the package of tea sent to you at headquarters. You made a pot, and we drank it together.”

  Nao blinked. The few weeks between his father’s death and eradicating the Korean mob blurred together. Somehow the thought of Aki knowing him before he’d become godfather cracked Nao open and clawed at his insides.

  Nao swallowed. “You can bring me whichever tea you want.”

  “As you wish.”

  Nao knew better than to allow the silence between them to build again. He leaned back in his seat. “Are we there yet?”

  “I can park around the corner, Father Murata.”

  The car came to a stop, and Aki walked to open the door for Nao, but he did it himself.

  Aki chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you want me to stay with the car?”

  “You can carry the accounting books. So come on.”

  The pair walked in silence while the streetlights exposed the night air heavy with humidity. They weaved in and out of old streets like the interlocking cobblestones until they
came to Yuiko’s home. Nao stepped into the covered entry while Aki waited a few feet behind.

  Nao knocked, and the door opened. The crease down the center of Mother’s forehead doubled since the last time he’d seen her.

  “Get away from this house before people get the wrong idea,” Mother said.

  Nao bowed. “Could you please tell me where Yuiko is performing? It is important that I speak with her.”

  “Being associated with you is setting her career up for failure.” Mother crossed her arms. “No one with any real power wants to get within two degrees of the yakuza.”

  Nao bit the inside of his cheek. Mother had a point; even being at a party with a yakuza there marked any politician as scandalous. Yuiko, however, had already made up her mind. She and Nao were friends. Mother was trying to bend Yuiko to her will, but Nao couldn’t look through every geisha teahouse in Kyoto.

  “She messaged me about coming to see her—”

  “I’m protecting her for her own good. Now leave, or I’ll call the police.”

  Nao shook his head. He couldn’t leave until he got the information. He held his head high.

  “I promise if you tell me where she is, you don’t have to worry about the future of this house anymore. She won’t have to worry about paying to learn her art anymore. Yuiko will have the full support of the Matsukawa.”

  Mother’s mouth fell open. Classes and clothes burdened geisha houses in expenses, and geisha worked until they were paid off. In a few sentences, Nao had offered to pay off all the debt and future cost for Yuiko to practice her art.

  “Please,” Nao said. “Yuiko isn’t only doing me a favor, but helping Kyoto. I need to speak with her.”

  “You’ll pay for everything?”

  “Including whatever obscure business class she wants to take, consider it paid.”

  “She’s booked at the teahouse you hosted for Obon,” Mother said.

  Nao bowed. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll send you the first bill tomorrow.”

  “That’s fine. Aki, go get the accounting books and take them to the car. Wait there for me.”

  Mother allowed Aki inside, and once he walked out with the large books, Nao set out to the teahouse. Nao’s phone still hadn’t exploded with messages from Kurosawa, so the hospital must not have realized he was gone yet.

  The centuries-old gray stone pathway and cedar-scented buildings filled his lungs. He could conquer anything knowing the city would be there. Sleeping a day and the IV treatment ended up making him feel great.

  People lined the streets, phones ready to snap a photo of a geiko, but Nao breezed by them easily and made it to the teahouse in under ten minutes. A red-walled building with dark wood and a blue tiled roof greeted him. It was the most famous geisha teahouse in Japan. He pushed past the crowd waiting outside and ducked inside the business.

  “Hello, Mr. Murata. It’s always a pleasure. Are you here to make an appointment?” The lady of the teahouse spoke with the same thick Kyoto accent as Aki.

  “I need to speak with Yuiko.”

  “She’s entertaining other guests, and she’s booked for the evening. We can arrange a time for you to have her for entertainment tomorrow.”

  Nao shook his head. “That won’t work. I need to speak to her now. Can you tell her to come down?”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Not while she’s working.”

  “She can pretend to get a refill of sake.”

  “I can give you some paper, and you can write her a message. When her guests leave, I can give it to her.”

  Nao gave no other reply but stepped into the geisha teahouse and started up the stairs. The woman called after him, but he was too quick, bounding up the stairs. He listened for the sounds of Yuiko’s flute but couldn’t hear anything over the chatter.

  “Yuiko,” Nao called out.

  “Mr. Murata get back here!”

  Nao ignored the woman and continued to call out Yuiko’s name. He knocked on a door, but one of the male employees grabbed his arm.

  “Mr. Murata, you will leave this instant,” the woman said, “or I will call the police.”

  Nao bit his lip. He could imagine Detective Yamada locking him away for the day so he could be blamed for everything.

  “Please tell Yuiko I need to speak with her.” Nao jerked his hand back.

  “Leave now!” the woman said.

  A sour taste spread in Nao’s mouth as he left the teahouse.

  NAO TRIED TO WAIT outside the teahouse for when Yuiko would eventually come out, but the owner pushed him away. The neighboring geisha teahouse did the same, and in twenty minutes, each business in the historic district told Nao not to linger or else the police would be called. He assumed the teahouse owner had warned them about a loitering yakuza and suggested they band together against him. Whatever the case, it left Nao waiting by the car in the hope Yuiko would come.

  “Shit!” Nao kicked the car tire, making Aki jump.

  Yuiko could be working for hours, and the teahouse owner had probably never told her he’d come by. Each minute ticking by allowed one more minute for the traitor to continue doing business. Nao could see the decay in the alleyways between buildings; even the air possessed an unsettling rotting tang.

  “Should I wait outside the teahouse in your place?” Aki asked.

  “She doesn’t know what you look like, and you’re not even dressed like a yakuza. There would be no way she would think you were with me.”

  “I could wear your crest.”

  Nao shook his head. A tiny lapel pin with only the soft glow of the paper lanterns to shine off it wouldn’t grab Yuiko’s attention. He could only hope Yuiko had heard the commotion and would come looking for him.

  “It’s not raining.” Aki smiled.

  A shadow crept beyond the haze of the streetlight, grabbing Nao’s attention away from Aki.

  “Show yourself!” Nao yelled.

  Nao took a step toward the shadow, but it remained without form.

  He glanced back to Aki. “Do you think we were followed?”

  Aki squinted at the shadows. “I don’t see anyone. Want me to go check it out?”

  Nao rubbed his eyes. The sedatives must have left him with some lingering lucid dreaming. Nothing haunted the shadows, but Aki was eager to humor Nao and take a look. Aki’s undying commitment made Nao’s stomach sink.

  Nao sighed. “Don’t bother.”

  Ten minutes passed. Nao debated about going to Chen’s to interview Snaggletooth about the letter, but Shima was on the other side of Kyoto. There would be no way Yuiko would find him there.

  “Maybe texting her would get her to come?” Aki said.

  “She’s working. Why would she have her phone on her?”

  “It might be worth a try.”

  “Fine, you do it.”

  Nao dug out his phone from his pocket and handed it to Aki. He traced the crack running down the center of the phone with his fingernail but didn’t say anything. Nao leaned against the car as Aki poked at the screen. A few minutes of freedom from the device created a sudden lightness within Nao. He didn’t need to keep checking if Kohta had messaged him yet or watch minutes tick by.

  Aki held out the phone, and Nao waited a few extra moments before grabbing it. After he found the traitor and replaced Kurosawa, he’d have to find a secretary so he wouldn’t have to touch a phone again.

  Aki swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  Nao ran his fingers through his hair. Aki’s moaning had allowed him to move freely without having to worry about Kurosawa tagging along. Aki had untied him from the hospital bed and knew how to make tea properly, which helped Nao stay up late to read the reports on his desk. Out of everyone in the family, Aki had helped him out the most. He deserved to know something.

  “The police are looking for something to pin on us.” Nao crossed his arms, ignoring the pinch of pain. “So be careful when you drive the books back. They’l
l spit in your eye and take you for assaulting them if given the opportunity.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Aki pushed up his glasses. “So, then, why is a geiko helping you with what the police want?”

  “You don’t need to know the rest.”

  “Murata, I can—”

  “You’re not even officially in the family yet. I’ve already told you enough.”

  Aki glanced down then leaned against the car. He didn’t deserve to be caught up in all the shit with catching the traitor. He should be focusing on the best kind of tea to serve and let Nao worry about getting locked up for not finding the traitor. Nao’s short-term legacy as godfather would be remembered for giving a ward leader a concussion, beating the shit out of a recruit, and causing the disembowelment of the Matsukawa.

  Aki’s eyebrows drew together, and he bit the corner of his lip. It pained Nao to look at him, but the watery gaze in Aki’s eyes made his chest tighten.

  “Murata, I want to say you’re a good person and a good leader,” Aki said.

  Nao shook his head. “Don’t try to talk me up.”

  “The way you care so much about the city is admirable. You rescued Nobu and take time out to play with her. Everyone else ignores her.”

  Nao shook his head. “Stop trying to get me to fall for you. I have to be a good leader, and that means not fucking someone in the family. I thought I made myself clear at the hospital.”

  Aki stepped closer, his breath tickling Nao’s throat. “Before you were godfather, you prepared tea for everyone in the house. No one else would do it without being ordered, but you did because you cared.”

  Nao stepped back. Even if Aki’s words warmed him better than any cream oolong, Nao couldn’t allow them to get to him.

  “Don’t speak to me so casually,” Nao mumbled.

  With another step, Aki drew closer than before. Nao wanted to look away but couldn’t. Each day as godfather, the responsibility pressed on him like gunpowder exploding in a fired bullet, and the quiet moments with Aki turned into his escape from responsibility.

  “Do you really mean that?” Aki’s gaze took Nao’s breath away.

 

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