by Amy Tasukada
Saehyun looked away before speaking, his stomach churning. “I want to spend more time with you. Like I said, you’re not half-bad for a Japanese.”
“Then come to the Aoi Festival with me.”
“Does everyone wear blue?”
“No, not aoi like the color; aoi like the hollyhock flower. It happens in three days, by the Kamo Shrine. Have you gone before?”
Saehyun laughed. “Of course not.”
“What do you mean, of course not? Many people come to see it.”
“It’s a Japanese festival.”
“You’re in Japan. They’re not going to have a Korean festival. I go every year.” Nao’s eyes glazed over. “I have since I was little. Kyoto is important since we keep these old traditions alive. The Aoi Festival is important since it started over five hundred years ago.”
Saehyun shook his head. Why was Nao acting so desperate for Kyoto? “You believe you’re keeping traditions alive by wearing yukatas all the time and going to festivals?”
“You can’t tell me that Korea doesn’t have any longtime traditions.”
“Ours make sense.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We don’t have any huge floats that people have to carry by hand,” said Saehyun.
Nao laughed. “That’s the Gion Festival. It doesn’t happen until July. It’s probably the biggest festival in all of Japan.”
“Yes, my boss talks about it a lot. It has to finish by the last day of Gion.”
“It?”
“This big project we’re starting.”
Nao’s eyes closed, and he lay back in bed. Saehyun’s hand lingered on the soft cotton of Nao’s yukata, pushing the collar open to expose his neck. Nao grabbed his hand.
“Saehyun, the tattoo on your chest—”
“It’s a play on the Korean flag. Many of us stuck in Japan have it.”
“I never noticed,” said Nao.
“You have many Koreans in your bed?”
A loud ring sounded, and Saehyun dug into his pocket to grab his phone. It was Heejun. Saehyun was supposed to be patrolling the wards. Whatever, they could wait. He turned it off and threw it on the nightstand.
“Who was that?” Nao slid his hand under Saehyun’s shirt. “Do they need you at work?”
“They can get someone else to handle it.”
“You know, I have a phone now.”
“You do?”
“I met someone I wouldn’t mind calling.”
“Really?”
Saehyun leaned in to kiss Nao. Nao’s gentle lips were soft, wet. Saehyun needed to hide his world from Nao. Away from the only innocent thing he had in his life. Nao didn’t need to know about that other side of him. Saehyun’s hand pressed Nao’s cheek and fell to his chest, then to his belt, unbuckling it. With a slight pull on the sleeve, Nao’s shoulder became exposed. Nao grabbed it, tugging it back on.
“I like to keep it on.”
Saehyun raised a brow. “Don’t you get hot?”
“I won the bet, remember? You have to do what I say.”
“That wasn’t what we bet.”
“Too bad.”
“This is taking fucking forever.” Saehyun slammed the van door as he stepped out.
Saehyun thumbed through the texts. It was near midnight, and he’d been waiting over an hour, trapped with Heejun in a van. It was hard to imagine the city below buzzed with clubs and pachinko parlors. But in the mountains surrounding Kyoto, only the cicada’s song rang in Saehyun’s ears. He missed Osaka. Everything about Kyoto felt old and so…Japanese. He couldn’t find a restaurant that served bulgogi, and all the “Koreans” he met were so removed from their homeland Saehyun doubted they could find Korea on a map. No wonder they joined the Japanese mob.
Nao provided a nice distraction. He was still able to hit each of Saehyun’s nerves. Nao made his toes curl and his voice strain as he begged for more. He never wanted the sex to end, but dating Nao meant he would be dragged to every festival Kyoto offered. It didn’t sound like such a bad exchange. It wasn’t as if he could move back to Osaka, after all.
Leaning against the driver’s door, Saehyun lit up a cigarette. He blew out a long drag then let the stick dangle to the side of his mouth.
“I don’t understand why Lee wanted us both to be here,” Saehyun said. “You always do the goods pickup, while I handle the enforcement.”
Heejun laughed while his double chin jiggled. He was twice the age of Saehyun, and where Saehyun had muscle, Heejun had flab.
“You want off tomorrow, you work tonight,” he said. “And you’re second-in-command. You should be involved in the whole operation.”
“Lee never comes on patrol with me. He’s too worried he’d get a scratch.”
“It doesn’t take much to beat the crap out of someone.”
Saehyun tapped his cigarette, ashes falling to the ground. Why did everyone think his job was easy? Heejun should’ve known that better than anyone since he was in charge of several groups in Osaka. Age must’ve rotted away all memories of how hard punching someone in the face was on the fists. It involved exercise, after all.
“You start with a handful of teenagers and try to take over a city whose yakuza doesn’t have a rip in its seams,” Saehyun said.
Godfather Taejin must have wanted both Saehyun and Lee dead. Taejin couldn’t seriously think they could take over Kyoto in under five months. Saehyun had no idea what kind of debt Taejin owed Lee, but Saehyun couldn’t deny he was thankful for it, or else he’d be the one taking the blame for Lee’s cop killing. Heejun was the only one from Osaka who could go back without fear of Taejin walking him to the police.
“You know how to handle all the desk work, then?” Heejun asked.
“Fuck that shit. Thanks to me, one of the Japanese ward leaders is dead.”
“And Lee got their underboss locked up. The way I see it, he outdid you and didn’t take a day off.”
Smoke twirled around Saehyun. He didn’t answer his phone once, and Lee wanted him stuck with a crappy errand. All Saehyun wanted was to show Nao he wanted more than sex. It wasn’t too much to ask for a few hours off the dog leash that was his phone.
“So you’re mad he made you work during a couple’s day? Because you’re acting like I asked you to drink piss.”
“Couple’s day?”
“You’ve been out of Korea so long, you forgot about them?” Heejun asked in Japanese to emphasize his point.
Couple’s day? He’d left Korea before he had ever been in a relationship, but then it hit him. Every fourteenth day of the month was a holiday celebrated by couples. Most were simple, calling for only going to the movies or wear green and go on a hike.
“I can’t believe I forgot about those.”
“Never had a relationship at that time of the month?”
“Not one that cared about the minor days.”
“Only cared about Silver Day.”
“Yes, demanding all kinds of jewelry.” Saehyun stamped out his cigarette. “What’s it this month?”
“Roses. I got a dozen in the back, and you can take one when we’re done here.”
Saehyun stretched. “It’s almost the fifteenth.”
“Give her nothing, then. Believe me, she’d rather have something a day late than nothing.”
Nao was so caught up in Japanese traditions, maybe he’d appreciate it if Saehyun showed him some that were Korean. He could return the favor for inviting him to the Aoi Festival. The cultural exchange would prove to Nao that he cared. If only Nao knew how tightly wound he had Saehyun’s thoughts he wouldn’t doubt his intentions with him.
The low rumble of wheels against rocks set them both on alert. Saehyun reached for the knife in his pocket, the van’s headlights blinding him. The van driver whistled.
“What took so long? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago,” Saehyun spat.
“Who’s the ass?” the driver asked.
Saehyun’s hand curled into a fist. How dare someone who was late insult him for pointing out a mistake that wasn’t his? Heejun patted Saehyun’s shoulders, giving them a squeeze to hold him back.
“This would never happen in the streets.” Saehyun crossed his arms. “When someone’s twenty minutes late, it means trouble, not smoke a few cigarettes while waiting.”
“He’s the muscle. Don’t worry about him.”
The passenger opened the door and came around to the other side. He wore a tank top in the summer humidity, and Saehyun glimpsed his tattooed arm. “We had to stop to get gas, and this guy took forever to piss.”
Heejun pulled out a crinkled paper bag and talked with the driver. Saehyun ignored them. After all, he wasn’t there for the business. He walked toward the passenger, eyeing the small man’s tattoo. Its style was a little different than he’d seen before, with fewer colors, and the variation in each was something he’d never seen.
“You only have the arm?” Saehyun asked.
“Nah, got the works.”
The passenger lifted his shirt over his head, revealing on his back a tiger fighting a dragon. The only tattoo Saehyun had was the one proving his loyalty to Lee and the agreement with Taejin.
Saehyun whistled. “Damn.”
“I know, it’s badass. It hurt, but it was totally worth it.”
“How long did it take?”
“Months.”
Heejun whistled. “Hey, Muscle, get back here!”
Saehyun walked back to the side of the van. The Double Moon dealt in the usual items—phones, fake credit cards, illegal porn. In Osaka, he and Lee had dealt in passports and visas, but since Osaka Saehyun didn’t want to even look at another passport, and it seemed Lee didn’t want to either. That’s how they’d ended up in the Kyoto mess. Besides, smaller items weren’t enough to fund a whole new syndicate branch. Yet, when he looked into the dealer’s van, there stood a pile of ten white bricks of ketamine.
Saehyun bit the inside of his cheek. “We’re done here.”
“Those bricks are ours. Help me unload them,” Heejun said, picking up one of the packed kilos and handing it to Saehyun.
He kept his hands at his side.
“We don’t deal drugs.”
Drugs were a disgusting sign of weakness and disgraced the user as well as the whole family. Same in Korea as in Japan.
“Lee and the godfather want us to,” Heejun said. “We can hire more people, so that way you’re not stuck at the end of Gion with a single ward, or do you think you can take over Kyoto with less than forty people?”
Saehyun shook his head and reached into his pocket. “I didn’t even deal drugs in Osaka. What makes them think I’m going to do it here?”
“The Japanese deal them, so we are. We can make enough money selling them to take Kyoto. Or do you want to take the fall for the visa fiasco?”
“I’m not touching shit.”
“Don’t get all noble and worried about dirtying the streets like those Japanese bastards do, Saehyun.”
“This shit ruins people’s lives and then the lives of those around them. They take out loans then overdose, leaving their families to pay their debts. This fucks everyone over.”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you what’s at stake for you if we don’t win.”
Saehyun shook his head and slammed his fist into the van’s door. The pain was welcomed, and fuck it if he dented the van. He could see it all—teenagers coming home to find their mom passed out with the needle sticking in her arm from where she’d overdosed. No one in the family attending the funeral, disgraced that their relative was a junkie. No one offering to pay the cost back to Korea for the troublesome teenage son.
Saehyun grabbed the brick and threw it back into the van it had come from.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I said I wasn’t going to do it.”
Heejun grabbed ahold of Saehyun’s shirt, shoving him into the van. Saehyun pushed back, and Heejun landed a swift punch to his gut. Heejun might’ve been old, but he had more weight under him.
“Look, you don’t have much choice. Lee is happy with you, sure, but if I tell him about this, he’ll send you back to Osaka, and you can take the fall for what happened all on your own.”
Saehyun pulled himself up. “Fine, but don’t think I’m selling this shit ever. Get one of the lower guys to do it. My job is to expand and maintain the territory, that’s all. Lee’s the businessman. I’m just the muscle.”
Saehyun pulled out his knife and grinned. He paused long enough to see Heejun’s face twitch before disappearing into their open van to find the rose bouquet. Saehyun opened the sealed top and found a dozen or so roses in yellow. He pulled one and cut the long stem in half. He flipped the knife back and put it into his pocket. Heejun blocked his exit.
“Let me out. I’ll walk back.”
“Saehyun, don’t be such an idiot. It’ll take hours to walk back to the city.”
“I don’t want anything to do with this crap. I don’t even want to be in the same van.”
Saehyun pushed forward, but Heejun shoved him back inside and slammed the door shut. The van opened only from the outside, and a cage separated the front seats from the empty space behind. Saehyun was trapped.
“Don’t let your temper make you do something stupid. You took the time to cut the flower, and you’re going to spend hours walking back to the city to give it away?”
Heejun climbed into the van once he finished packing the ketamine bricks in the front seat. Saehyun plopped down on the floor. He wanted to bore a hole into Heejun’s head. Saehyun wanted to talk to Lee about the drugs, but he knew they were the only way to fund the Double Moon for the months they needed to take over Kyoto. Saehyun might’ve hated the thought of being involved with drugs, but he valued the chance to live even more.
“Look, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Heejun said. “When Godfather Taejin came for a visit, he wanted us to hit the yakuza leader where it would really hurt.”
“Taejin came outside Osaka?”
“That’s why we called you. He was checking up on us, and Lee was pissed, because it looked bad that he couldn’t get to you.”
“If Taejin wanted to see me, he’d find me. Still, not only does he want us to take out the yakuza godfather, the underboss, and then their financial and street leaders, but he also wants us to knock off someone else before he considers our debt paid?”
“The Matsukawa godfather doesn’t care when a ward leader gets his head sent to him gift-wrapped—”
Saehyun laughed. “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?”
“If only we had a camera to see their faces when they opened it,” said Heejun.
“I’m sure they shit themselves.”
“Why don’t we hit their boss a little closer to home?”
Saehyun shook his head. “Raiding their headquarters is a suicide mission. No one does something that stupid. Besides, they have that gate that blocks any car.”
“He’s bound to have a wife, children, something. That sound like something the muscle department would want to handle?”
Twenty minutes of rolling down the Kyoto hills with Heejun, and Saehyun was still disgusted by the drugs in the front seat. He gave up complaining, and even though he knew the Double Moon needed the money, he still wanted to throw those bricks out the windows. Maybe it was a good thing Heejun had locked him in the back.
The van came to a stop, and Saehyun glared when Heejun looked over his shoulder. The door only opened from the outside, leaving Saehyun completely at Heejun’s mercy.
“So what do you think? Do you want to help with the kidnapping or not?” He
ejun asked.
“Why are you bothering to ask?”
“I’m not Taejin. The way I see it, we’re on equal footing here.”
“I’m the one locked in a cage.”
“You know what I mean.”
“My team has enough trouble taking over more wards without getting the shit kicked out of us by the Matsukawa. Your group can try kidnapping some six-year-old and his mother. Now open the door so I can get away from this crap.”
Heejun laughed. “So if he has an eight-year-old, I can count you in?”
Saehyun flipped him off. “Get me out of here.”
Each grunt-filled second that Heejun took getting his gut out of the van ticked off every nerve Saehyun had managed to quiet all night. Heejun slid open the van door. The low buildings and sloped roofs surrounding him meant Heejun had taken him to the historic district.
“Good. The last thing I wanted was to go back to the safe house with that crap there.”
“I figured there’s a geisha that wants a rose before midnight.”
Saehyun rolled his eyes. “I think your bouquet is going to be late.”
“She knew she was getting it late, so it’s fine. You have tomorrow off. Go find someone’s bed to sleep in tonight. I’ll cover if Lee asks.”
“Why would you?”
“Because I think chopping off a guy’s head deserves a white lie.”
“Sure, but I don’t owe you shit. You offered all on your own.” Saehyun owed enough debt to two people. He didn’t want to owe something to Heejun too.
“Damn, Saehyun. Not everyone is out to get you.”
“Fuck you and all that shit in the van.”
Saehyun snatched the rose he’d cut earlier and disappeared into the narrow streets. Saehyun could forget the whole evening by spending the night in Nao’s bed. They could go to the Aoi Festival together instead of meeting up there as they’d planned. It was nearly eleven, and if he was lucky, Nao might still be in the tea shop.