Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season

by J. Scott Matthews

  “Almost had it that time!” Kameko said from where she was standing next to him just out of the light.

  She was dressed in a white golf skirt and polo shirt, with a glove on one hand, a visor, and cleats that clacked against the bare concrete floor and echoed throughout the empty warehouse. Her tattoos were visible on the exposed flesh of her arms and down both legs, even over the backs of her knees.

  “Fuck … you …”

  “Now come on, don’t get angry at me. I was so close that time. Here, let’s try it again!”

  “No … no!”

  The man began wriggling in place, but the ropes wouldn’t budge.

  “Alright, now, hold still.” Kameko placed another golf ball in the man’s navel. “The more you wriggle, the worse it’s gonna be.”

  The man went still. She lined up her shot, pulling the driver back and forth a few times before winding up to drive. As she swung, she dipped lower at the last second, landing a powerful blow against his ribs. The man howled in pain as the golf ball bounced off and away into the darkness of the warehouse.

  “So … did that little warm-up help you find your checkbook? Maybe jog your memory at all?”

  “I told you! I don’t have the money right now!” the man sobbed. “I’ll get it as soon as I can. But you’re going to have to give me some time!”

  Kameko walked over to a cardboard box. It had been turned over, with a number of papers and documents spread over it. She looked through these now.

  “Let’s see here … how did you like Hawaii?”

  “What?”

  “How did you like Hawaii? You and the missus just got back from a ten-day cruise you took there last month. How was it?”

  “Look, that was a gift from a business associate. We didn’t spend a single yen on that!”

  “Not according to your credit statement here. Looks like you paid for everything with your Citibank card. Except for drinks and daily expenditures on your GCBC card. Smart move that, great travel points.”

  “I … how …?”

  “And I’m thinking to myself: if you’ve got the kind of scratch to pay for that trip just last month, you could set up a payment plan with Vasili.”

  “It … my wife has been bugging for a trip for a while, I thought if—”

  “How’s that new Tesla ride?”

  “Huh?”

  “That Tesla Model 9 you just bought. How’s the ride on that guy? I’ve heard good things.”

  “How did you know?”

  By way of response, Kameko took out another golf ball from the package and placed it in the middle of his chest.

  “Please … no more!” he gasped.

  “Hold still.”

  She took a few careful practice half-swings to make sure she would connect with the ball. Then she swung the heavy driver directly back over her head with two hands and brought it down as hard as she could on the man’s stomach. She knelt in close and waited for him to stop writhing in pain.

  “Do you get it now? Do you understand why this is happening? It’s not because you owe him money. He would have worked something out with you. It’s that you keep dodging him, then splashing cash out on nice vacations and fancy cars. It makes him look foolish, and weak. And that is one thing we cannot have in our line of work.”

  “I came into some money recently, not a lot, but a little,” he wheezed. “That’s where the cash came from.”

  “But it’s all gone now?”

  “Mostly, yes. It was stupid, I know, but—”

  “All four hundred and seventy-nine million yen?”

  The man stopped what he was saying and looked up.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” Kameko said with a laugh. “If we could get our hands on your credit history, don’t think we wouldn’t also know about your recent real estate sale. Quite a windfall profit you netted from that. Enough to pay off your debt to Vasili in full. Enough to get me to put away my golf clubs.”

  “No … that’s all we have left! You can’t …”

  He stopped talking when he felt her drop a golf ball into his pubic hair.

  “Okay, now hold real still …”

  Two hours later, the man was sitting hunched over with a blanket around him as Kameko finished the bank transfer. He was sniffling hard, which could have been from the crying, or from trying not to choke on the blood leaking from his broken nose. Where the blanket was open down the front, Kameko could see bruising on his chest in the empty space between his tattoos. Even some of the lighter-shaded areas of his tattoos seemed darker from where he now carried bruises.

  “Well, I feel like we made some real progress here today,” Kameko said, snapping the laptop shut. “I really think our time together has helped my long game.”

  The man snorted, then ended up hawking up blood and snot. “It’s all a big joke to you, isn’t it?”

  “Well, if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life!” Kameko beamed.

  “You and your smartass remarks. Enjoy it now, while you and your asshole boss are riding high. Nothing lasts forever.”

  “Well, to be fair, it’s been a while since you were riding high.”

  “Hmph, so you do know who I am?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “I used to be as big a deal as Vasili in my day, when I walked the Path. Maybe not as much territory as he has, but certainly the respect. The fear. But a few bad years, a few missteps, and look where it ends up.” With that, the man gestured around him.

  “Yes, truly a lesson in the impermanence of all things.”

  “Ha, you joke, but it’s true. Take it from me: everything ends, nothing lasts. Your time in the sun could very well end with you being beaten half to death in an abandoned warehouse someday.”

  “It could be worse. If you hadn’t had our money, I would have beaten you all the way to death. But instead you get to live, and serve as an example of what not to do.”

  “I hope I live to see it,” the man said, hawking up more blood.

  “See what?”

  “The day when the world turns and you aren’t quick enough to keep up. The day some brash young upstart comes after you to make his bones. The day you don’t see the bullet that paints that Russian cunt’s brains against the walls. Or your own.”

  “Like sand through the hourglass,” Kameko said, putting the last of her things away. “But I wouldn’t try it if I were you. You may have lost your luster with age, but Vasili hasn’t.”

  At that, she turned to leave, calling over her shoulder as she did.

  “I trust you can find your own way home.”

  Chapter Two

  “So, what do you put the chances that we’re walking into a trap at?”

  “Hmm, I’d say fifty-fifty.”

  Vasili could see Jun’s eyes glance back at him in the rearview mirror. Then he nodded and went back to looking at the road.

  It wouldn’t be the first time that Vasili had shared a meal with a man he had put a hit on. But it would be the first time the other man was as highly ranked as Chobei was. He was the only son and heir of Eriko Mihashi, the shacho of the entire Kaisha syndicate.

  Chobei was technically a boss whose rank was the same as that of Vasili and Yoshii, only he had essentially been given his position rather than earning it. He had been put in charge of Kawasaki Ward, a small ward geographically but an important one because of two major features: direct bay access and Kawasaki City. The population of Kawasaki City had grown enormously over the past several decades, due to the industry located there and the jobs available. It was a decidedly blue-collar town where a working man had plenty of options for exchanging hard-earned cash for booze, drugs, gambling, women, and more.

  Vasili thought it much too rich a prize to award to Chobei just for having been born to the Kaisha’s shacho. It was like giving nuclear codes to a monkey. He didn’t know what to do with it, but if he ever figured it out he’d probably end up killing everyone.

  Vasili didn’t have much t
ime for boys like Chobei. They made noise about integrity and reputation, about honoring the yakuza code of chivalry. But Vasili found such men rarely lived up to it. They paid lip service to the idea, but it was the money and power that they really wanted. Such men were often dangerous. They were too blinded by pride to think clearly, too soft to make hard choices, and too weak to stand by them.

  Though given what he had seen of Chobei’s upbringing, he kind of understood why the boy was the way he was. No one knew who the father was, and Eriko staunchly refused to even broach the subject. As the boy’s mother, Eriko had alternated between being a neglectful parent (she was a working woman, after all, with a business to run) and then overindulging him to make up for it. Vasili was no parenting expert, but even he could see it was no way to raise a child. Chobei was living proof of that. He was a dangerous man-child who could bring the whole house down on all their heads.

  Which was why Vasili had sicced that mad dog Masa on him. Or had tried to, at least. Vasili remembered the phone call he’d received the next day in his office. His blood had run cold as he’d heard his conversation with Masa from the sento played back to him. He hadn’t so much sat down as collapsed into the nearest chair while he listened, before the line went dead.

  No request for a bribe, no threats, nothing. Just the unspoken threat that Masa now had Vasili by the balls, and could twist at his leisure. Vasili’s fury at Kameko for missing the recorder was second only to the rage and abuse he reserved for himself.

  These thoughts played out in his head on the ride over. Before he knew it, Jun was opening his door for him. As they were walking up to the front of the restaurant Vasili saw Chobei, Yoshii, and several of their own respective men. He didn’t think Chobei would chance an execution in public, but then he had overestimated the kid’s intelligence before. He shot Jun a sideways glance that said: Just be ready. Jun gave a placid head nod that said: Of course.

  “Vasili! So good to see you!” Chobei said warmly.

  Chobei was tall and thin, and would be considered handsome despite the ponytail pulled back tight behind his head. With the other bosses, he had an overeager, ready-to-please demeanor that had long since grown wearisome. With his underlings, he showed nothing but acid condescension and clipped rudeness.

  “Thank you, Chobei. You look well, my friend.” Despite my best efforts.

  “And is this your only partner in crime tonight?” Yoshii asked, motioning towards Jun. “You don’t have that other little cutlet with you?”

  “You mean Kameko? No, she is seeing to other matters tonight. Shall I call and ask her to come?” Since you seem overly interested in the muscle I’ve brought tonight.

  “No, no, quite alright. Would have been nice to have some eye candy, is all. She reminds me of—oh, what was the name of that little piece you were with before? The actress.”

  “Yukari Sato,” Vasili said.

  “Yes, yes, that’s the one,” Yoshii leched. “What I would do to that ass …”

  Pretend it belonged to Matsuo so you could get hard? Vasili thought, without saying anything. There was an awkward pause, before Chobei broke the silence.

  “Come, come! Let’s eat. We have much to discuss.” He placed a hand on Vasili’s back and guided him down the stairs towards the restaurant’s basement entrance.

  “After you,” Chobei said, holding the door open.

  Is that the signal? Do I die in the entryway to a restaurant?

  With that thought in mind, Vasili stepped into a stylish restaurant with a modern decor, decorated entirely in red and black tones. The restaurant was nearly empty, with a group of businessmen around a large table in one corner and only two other couples seated at different tables.

  “Nice-looking place,” Vasili said.

  “Yes, I quite like it,” Chobei said. “I’ve reserved the back room for us. For privacy.”

  The better to kill you with, my dear.

  They were soon seated in a private room fronted by a large glass window overlooking a small pond and Japanese garden. A team of waiters quickly and efficiently went around the table, placing red-and-black lacquered masu boxes with tall sake glasses in the center, then filling the glasses until sake spilled out to fill the box. Jun covered his glass with a hand when they came to him, shaking his head. Good lad, Vasili thought. When the waiters left, Chobei stood with his glass in hand.

  “I would like to propose a toast! I would like to ask that everyone drink from their own cup, then pass it to the person across the table, as a reaffirmation of the bond we all took when we first started down the Path. To the family we’ve chosen! May we remain ever loyal!”

  Chobei was referring to sakazuki, the ritual sharing of sake cups between bosses and underlings in the Japanese underworld. It was a way of cementing one’s allegiance and loyalty in a world that ran on such currency. Even the terminology used to refer to bosses (oyabun) and underlings (kobun) reflected this hierarchy, as the words meant parent and child, respectively. Thus the syndicates offered a surrogate family for people who oftentimes had nowhere else to turn.

  Vasili sipped from his glass and passed it across to Chobei, who, coincidentally (or perhaps by design), was seated across from him. He was trying not to sweat now. This could either be a coded message to Vasili that Chobei knew. Or it could be Chobei’s usual idiot blather about honor and obligation and so forth. Vasili’s brain was overheating as he tried to read the situation and consider all the angles.

  “Well, then, let’s get the business out of the way so that we may enjoy our meals,” Chobei said once he was seated again. “I would like to ask for your help. Well, I feel capable of handling the situation myself, and perhaps with the counsel of Yoshii here, who was kind enough to arrange this.”

  At this Yoshii made a demure wave of his hand as he sipped shochu from a crystal glass.

  “But my mother is rather insistent that I seek your advice.”

  “And how is your mother?”

  “Ailing, as usual, I suppose,” Chobei said with a pained expression. “She views you as something of a diplomat, given the skillful way you have been able to keep the peace with the Yamazaki-gumi.”

  “As always, I am at your service,” Vasili said. “What is problem?”

  “Well, I am sorry to say, but it appears the barbarians to the west are nearly at the gates. The problem is with the Taira-kai. Specifically—”

  “Sorry, the who?”

  “The Taira-kai,” Yoshii said, as if speaking to a child. “It was formed by Noboru Taira through an alliance he brokered using what was left of the Shimanouchi-gumi after it was decapitated.”

  “The group was decapitated, or its leader?” Vasili asked.

  “Both. Anyway, they aligned themselves with what was left of the Yunokawa-kai after their turf wars with those boys from Yamanashi Prefecture to the west. They’ve been getting bolder, even showing up as far afield as Kanagawa, and now Kawasaki.”

  “And when did all this happen?” Vasili asked.

  “Oh, it’s been building over the last year, but just came to a head recently,” Yoshii said. “The situation in Kanagawa and further west is … fluid, to say the least. Too many pretenders to the throne. Not enough emperors able to hold it.”

  “Are they going to be a problem?” Vasili asked.

  “We shall see,” Yoshii said. “So far they haven’t been shy about leaving bodies in their wake during their expansion. They can’t compete with us in terms of manpower, at least not with the party they’ve got here.”

  “What’s their full force like?”

  “No one knows,” Yoshii said.

  “If you had to guess?”

  “Massive,” was all Yoshii said. “But they’re mainly concentrated out west. The contingent here isn't huge, but it could make things difficult if they dragged us into open warfare.”

  Having waited patiently, Chobei continued.

  “Anyway, my problem is with one of their bosses by the name of Soseki. This man must die.�
�

  “Start at the beginning.”

  “We had an arrangement that he failed to live up to, even going so far as to impugn the honor of our organization in the process.”

  “How so?”

  “I arranged to take a shipment of medicine from him—mostly amphetamines, painkillers, some chemo medications—but was unable to go liquid enough to cover the costs outright. He agreed to defer payment for one week while I got the money together. Unfortunately, I had some trouble there and asked for another deferral. He agreed, but only on the condition of a vig of three percent per day until the repayment of the loan. I found this unacceptable, as the word of a member of the Kaisha should be enough of a guarantee. Things grew heated and a fight broke out between his men and mine. As a result, one of his was severely wounded and had to be hospitalized. Now he is claiming payment for the man’s hospital fees and so forth. It is my measured opinion that this is a slight against the honor and the integrity of the Kaisha, one that cannot be allowed to stand.”

  Vasili regarded Chobei coolly. He leaned back when he had finished.

  “So to recap: You used the syndicate’s reputation to take out a loan that you were unable to repay. When this Soseki demanded repayment, you refused his terms and put one of his guys in the hospital. Now you want to kill him for crime of … what exactly?”

  “I don’t think you understand. I gave this man my word as a representative of the Kaisha, which is as good as money. Yet he ignored this, even resorted to violence against my men.”

  “Who shot first?”

  “What?”

  “Who shot first? Or threw the first punch? You or them?”

  Chobei hesitated before answering. “One of mine.”

  “So they resorted to violence to protect themselves.”

  “Well, but—”

  “No buts. This is not matter of honor, is matter of business. Sounds like you were given a generous loan and then lenient terms for repayment. That is respect you were accorded as member of the Kaisha. You don’t get to default and refuse to pay vig under the banner of the syndicate. That lowers our image to others.”