by Amy Tasukada
“I…”
The rustle of silk and wooden clogs against stone jolted Nao away from Aki.
“Mr. Murata,” Yuiko called. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come away sooner.”
Nao took a few steps away from Aki. “It was my fault for not being able to reach you sooner.”
“Sending the text to tell me your location worked in our favor.”
“You had your cell phone on you?” Nao asked.
“Yes, sometimes appointments change last minute.”
“But you’re in a kimono. Having a phone felt awkward when I wore a yukata.”
“Really? It doesn’t feel strange to me.” She pointed to the hospital wristband. “Are you okay?”
Nao pushed the hospital band under his shirt cuff. “I’m fine. We have all the accounting books here. So please tell me what you found.”
Aki opened the car door. Yuiko pushed aside one of the books and grabbed another one. It slipped out of her hand and thudded against the car hood.
She winced. “Sorry.”
“I don’t care about the car. What did you find?”
She opened one of the pages, but it was so dark Nao could hardly see anything. She reached into her obi and pulled out her cell phone.
“Could you please hold this for me?” She handed the phone to Aki.
He turned on the phone’s flashlight. Yuiko tilted her head and examined Aki as if they had met before. After a minute she shook her head and went back to the books.
“You have been getting a new payment from every ward for about the past month that you weren’t getting before.” She put her finger down a line of numbers.
“Okay, but is it really something odd?” The extra income could be higher payments for protection money since so many businesses decided to put up the anti-yakuza stickers.
“I thought so, too, but then I noticed the numbers often had a six or a four.”
Nao raised his eyebrows. “They look like random numbers.”
“When someone is trying to purposely pick random numbers they don’t. There’ll be repeated numbers falling out of the lines of probability. So the six and four are used more than they would be if they were truly random numbers.”
“So these amounts are made up totals?”
Yuiko nodded. “It looks like. Everything else is meticulously in order. So someone is trying to spread these payments over different streams of income”
The amounts added together were so high it could only be drugs. So Chen wasn’t taking the drug money under the table. Whatever money was being made from the drugs was being put in the Matsukawa account, and the traitor was trying to hide it by spreading the payments throughout each ward. Chen wouldn’t just start selling drugs then add the money to the Matsukawa coffers. Someone had told him to do it.
“Thank you, Yuiko.” Nao said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Sorry for making you come all this way. I didn’t feel comfortable speaking about this over the phone.”
“You did the right thing.” Nao laughed. “And I’m not fond of phones.”
Yuiko smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Mother said you’re going to pay for my classes. I’m glad you see how important my duty is to keep the traditions alive.”
“Always.”
“I must get going. Please don’t be afraid to call me again at any time, Mr. Murata.”
Yuiko dashed off in a flutter of silk.
“So I should take these back to the office?” Aki asked.
Nao shook his head. “Drive me to Shima first. I need to see my prostitute.”
“As you wish.” There was a hint of jealousy in Aki’s voice.
“I NEED TO SPEAK with Kohta,” Nao said to the brothel’s hostess.
She glanced at her computer as a group of ladies and their male prostitutes sang the latest boy-band pop tune. When Nao had texted Kohta to meet him, he said he couldn’t because he was working. Nao’s hands tightened into fists. Kohta was supposed to be searching for more drug dealers, not getting women wet.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Murata,” the hostess said, “but Kohta’s with another client. If you could wait about ten minutes, he should be ready for you. Should I get a menu for your friend?”
Nao shook his head. “What room is he in?”
“We really can’t—”
“Are you really going to tell me no?”
The hostess bit her lip. “He’s in room five.”
Nao headed for the room but glanced behind him to make sure Aki had followed. His body looked stiffer with each step into the brothel, but his eyes darted around the darkened space.
“First time at a whorehouse?” Nao asked.
“Yeah…”
“Your moaning allowed me to see Kohta without Kurosawa tagging along.”
So the mischievous grin Aki had worn at the hospital had been more for show. Though sneaking out to see the head of the family and taking a stroll through a brothel with him were two different things. All of Nao’s other attempts to make Aki lose interest in him had failed. Flaunting a pretend relationship with Kohta provided the last card in Nao’s deck.
Aki’s silence gave Nao a bit of hope that it could work. Everyone Nao ever cared for had died, and he couldn’t allow Aki to haunt him next Obon. Even if it wasn’t by his hand, the city would find some way to kill Aki, maybe a car accident or some freak punch during a sparring session at the gym, it didn’t matter. Nao could never give into his desire. He flexed his fingers, hoping the warmth would return to them.
They walked to the back hallway of rooms and waited outside room five. Female moans and cries of ecstasy escaped from behind the door.
Nao leaned against the opposite wall and grinned at Aki. “Kohta’s good, huh? Better than any cream oolong.”
Aki’s cheeks grew a light shade of pink. Could Aki be a virgin? It would explain why he acted so desperate. But he could get the whole household thinking they were going at it all night, so he probably had some experience.
A minute passed before Nao banged on the door, demanding Kohta come out. The moans ended in a deep grunt before a gasp pierced through the thumping music.
Kohta opened the door, and his shirtless chest glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He brushed his hair over his shoulder and tugged on his unzipped pants, but they sank low on his hips.
“I thought penetration was illegal.” Nao licked his lips to push the illusion for Aki.
Kohta grinned. “Who said there was any penetration?”
“Sounded like it.”
“I’m just that good.”
“I remember.”
Nao grabbed the door handle and shut it behind Kohta. “You’re done with her. It’s my turn now.”
Playful words of innuendo weren’t Nao’s style, but if it broke Aki’s heartstrings Nao would do it. Kohta’s eyebrows knitted together as Nao trailed a finger down his chest. Then Nao tugged his arm, and they walked deeper into the hall.
“Why haven’t you messaged me?” Nao whispered so Aki couldn’t hear them.
“There was only one drug dealer. I didn’t find any others so I didn’t message you.”
“Are you sure you didn’t keep working and pretend to be looking?”
“Like I’d go against a yakuza godfather.” Kohta gave a mocking laugh. “I spent two days searching and asked around.”
“You were supposed to watch the Shima safe house.”
“You might’ve cleared my debt with our deal, but I still have to pay rent.”
“You’re working for me tonight.”
“He looks up to being your puppy dog.” Kohta pointed to Aki.
“You’re—”
Nao’s phone vibrated, cutting off his sentence. His phone lit up the hallway as it flashed messages from Kurosawa. The hospital must’ve figured out Nao had taken off and contacted him.
Nao clicked on the camera application and held the phone out. Kohta’s long blond hair intertwined in Nao’s fingers, and he pulled him close. The taste of c
igarettes and what Nao assumed to be woman lingered on Kohta’s lips. With a click of the camera app, Nao captured the kiss.
Kohta pushed Nao away. “We had a deal.”
The phone kept on vibrating and popping up with more of Kurosawa’s messages as Nao scrolled past the images he had accidently taken. Nao ground the back of his teeth, then tossed the phone to Aki.
“Send the picture to Kurosawa,” Nao said.
The phone continued its light show as Aki poked away at it. His shoulders slumped, and he avoided Nao’s gaze.
“It’s sent,” Aki said, his voice thick.
“Now get the books back to the office. If the security guard gives you a hard time, call me.”
Aki bit his lip. “May I have your number?”
Kohta laughed. “I wouldn’t give him my number unless he paid me.”
Nao didn’t know how to find his own number.
“Do whatever you need to get it,” Nao said.
The phone stopped vibrating for a second before starting up again as Aki copied Nao’s phone number to his. He bowed a thank-you and handed the phone back to Nao.
Their fingertips touched for a brief second. Nao didn’t dwell on it but caught Aki’s gentle smile from the corner of his eye. Nao couldn’t live with seeing Aki’s smile another six months at headquarters, not after everything tonight.
“As a thank-you for your help today, I’m going to speed up your apprenticeship,” Nao said, turning off his phone. “From now on, every morning go to the gym before your headquarters duties start. Talk with family members and decide which ward fits you best.”
Aki blinked but then bowed. “Thank you for your gracious offer.”
“Now get the books to where they belong.”
With another formal thank-you, Aki left.
Kohta grinned. “You know he likes you.”
“I don’t care.”
“He seems normal for a yakuza. You could’ve gotten him to blow you instead of me that first night.”
Nao rubbed his temple, wishing the effects of the pain medication would’ve lasted longer. “Come on, I want you there when I talk to Chen and Snaggletooth about the letter.”
Kohta grabbed his burnt-gold shirt out from the room and buttoned it as they walked out of the brothel.
“Before you think I wasn’t doing my job, today was the first day I wasn’t out on the streets,” Kohta said.
“You were supposed to keep watch on the safe house.”
“For what? Gangsters coming in and out?” Kohta left the top three buttons of his shirt undone. “When was I supposed to eat?”
“When you pay off your debt to the Matsukawa, then you can do whatever you want. Until then, you do as you’re told.”
Nao sighed. Arguing with Kohta would get him nowhere. They turned into an alleyway and kept a fast pace on the way to the Shima safe house.
Questions flooded his mind. He needed to know if Snaggletooth knew English and who had given him the note.
“People should learn how to hold their liquor better,” Kohta mumbled.
Nao stopped and glanced toward the man slumped in the recyclables.
“Is he drunk?” Nao asked.
Kohta nudged him with his polished shoe. “What else would he be?”
The man didn’t move, so Nao squatted beside him. The man clutched a small plastic baggie filled with white powder. Nao held his breath.
“Are you all right?” Nao asked, but received no reply. He grabbed the man’s shoulder and shook. “Hey, wake up.”
Nao’s heart thumped in his chest. He pressed his fingers against the man’s neck to find a pulse, but no beat came.
“Shit,” Nao said. “He’s dead.”
“Are you sure? Sometimes the ladies get so drunk they look like they’re dead.”
“The man has no pulse.”
“Fuck, he’s really dead?”
Nao’s thoughts swirled. The man had probably died from the tainted drugs. If Yamada found out, he’d cut their deal off.
“We need to clean this up!” Nao said.
“But won’t our prints get on him or something?”
Nao ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to jail if the cops find another dead person. Now help me move him.”
Kohta hesitated but grabbed the guy’s feet. A shuffling at the end of the alleyway made Nao freeze. He couldn’t be found out. He still had a day to figure out the traitor, and he wasn’t going to let some beat cop take that away.
Nao’s eyes widened as the figure took shape from the shadows and leapt at him.
“I had you tied to the fucking bed, and you still manage to get out to screw some prostitute,” Kurosawa yelled.
Kohta cleared his throat. “To be clear, we’re not screwing.”
Kurosawa grabbed Nao’s collar and pinned him against the wall. Nao’s nostrils flared, and Kurosawa stepped back.
“And now you killed someone else?” Kurosawa paced. “You’ve got to be one of the worst—”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Nao said.
Another shadow gathered in the darkness, and a flashlight shined in Nao’s eyes.
“Freeze! It’s the police!”
“TAKE CARE OF THE body, then go back to headquarters,” Kurosawa said.
He squeezed Nao’s shoulder then ran toward the police officer. The cop yelled at Kurosawa before chasing him down the other end of the alley.
Nao snapped his fingers to pull Kohta’s attention back to the body. “Quick, grab his feet.”
“Why would I want to touch a dead guy?”
“Because when the cop calls for backup, they’ll blame both of us for his death!”
Kohta crossed his arms. “But I’m not even in the Matsukawa.”
“The police aren’t going to care. You’re with me, you’re a yakuza,” Nao said between clenched teeth.
“Fuck that!”
Nao’s arm quivered under the weight of the dead man’s shoulders, but once Kohta grabbed the man’s ankles he regained control. They hauled the body to the next street over. Nao’s heart pounded against his ribs. He couldn’t let Yamada win under some last-minute technicality. They hauled the body to the next side street, but then Kohta dropped his end of the body.
Nao narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing? We need to move him.”
“We can pretend he’s our drinking buddy who passed out. It’ll be less suspicious.”
Kohta grabbed the dead man’s arm and hoisted him onto his shoulder. It might’ve moved the body less efficiently, but it wouldn’t draw as much attention. Nao threw the man’s other arm over his shoulder and stumbled with Kohta down another few blocks.
Sweat collected in Nao’s bandages, but he couldn’t do anything about it. It didn’t matter that they needed to be changed, because in less than twenty-four hours he’d either be in jail or turning in the traitor with enough freedom to stay however long he needed at a hospital.
They dragged the body to the outer limits of the red-light district.
“How long do you expect me to keep this up?” Kohta asked.
“Here, hold him.” Nao groaned and pushed the corpse to Kohta.
The added weight threw Kohta, along with the dead guy, stumbling into the wall. The body rolled out of Kohta’s grasp and plopped to the ground.
Kohta sighed and slid down the wall beside the dead man. “All I wanted was to buy nice clothes.”
“And not pay for them.”
“Don’t you have a place to dump bodies?”
Nao ran his fingers through his hair. The furnace in the mountains around Kyoto made quick work of bodies, but he’d have to get hold of an underling to take care of the body. Nao bit his lip. Out of the recruits in charge of dealing with the dead, Nao only trusted Aki. There had been enough news stories over the years about decaying arms found in fountains or legs mixed with recyclables that Nao knew he had to handle it himself. Yamada could do one blood test on a discarded limb an underling decided to not properly handle
and the whole Matsukawa would be torn up.
Sakai had mentioned Nakamura worked for the local cab company since retiring. Nao hoped his old friend would be willing to help as he dialed the number.
The cab company answered, and after Nao informed him who he was, they guaranteed Nakamura would be there in less than ten minutes.
“Do you think the police are still looking for us?” Kohta asked.
Nao slouched between Kohta and the dead body. “Kurosawa probably distracted them enough to give up on us.”
“Maybe I should get a beer so it looks better if they come by.”
Kohta stood, but Nao caught his wrist. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“There’s a vending machine a block down. Can’t you trust me?”
Nao raised a brow. “You haven’t even returned my shoes.”
“So you haven’t returned mine.”
“Just sit down. Nakamura will be here soon.”
They sat in silence except for the sound of Kohta shaking his leg against the concrete. It seemed odd he would even want to sit on the street with how much he cared about his clothes, but not everyone was so accustomed to being around a dead body.
Nao closed his eyes, the heaviness of the night pressed against his chest.
Breaking down the body would take an hour, perhaps more since he was out of practice. Kohta could wait while the body burned, which would give Nao the precious few hours he had left to interview Chen and Snaggletooth about the letter. If they were in it for the money, they would’ve kept it to themselves and not managed to get Oshiro to change his books, but they could be following the orders of someone above them.
A black taxi parked in front of them, and the automatic passenger doors opened.
“I retire and then you decide to come back,” Nakamura laughed, getting out of the car.
Nao smiled. “It’s been too long.”
“That’s because you’d never visited after you left.”
Nakamura’s tattoos peeked out of his long-sleeved shirt and collar. His left hand only had three and a half fingers, the others cut at some point due to a severe transgression. He’d never told Nao what for, but given Nakamura’s many years in the Matsukawa it had to have been some misguided judgment in his youth.
Nakamura pulled back from the embrace and pointed to the body. “I take it he’s the reason you called.”