The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide

by Amy Tasukada

  Nao nodded at the truths.

  “If you agree to ask for me each time you entertain at a geisha teahouse, even when I’m old and wrinkled, then I will tell you what the note says.”

  “I agree, but I would’ve asked for you anyway.” Nao chuckled.

  Her shoulders slumped. “Damn. I should’ve asked you to pay for my accounting lessons.”

  “Accounting?”

  Yuiko glanced to the door, a shadow looming outside. “As much as Mother might regret her choice now, I’m inheriting this house. So I’ll have to learn to be both an artist and businesswoman.”

  Nao gave a weary smile. Maybe Yuiko could answer some of his questions about the paperwork on his desk. There would be time for asking for more help after the traitor was found. But Yuiko was smart. She’d probably ask for something else each time Nao requested her help. Nao relaxed around her. She understood how much he cared about the city.

  “So, the translation.” She pushed the paper toward Nao and pointed to the words as she translated them. “It says ‘More product request approved for usual amount. Report back when product is out to set up delivery.’”

  Nao buried his face in his hands. They were ordering more drugs to flood the city. He took in a breath. It said to report back when the drugs were out. Maybe Nao could stop the delivery before it happened. He could find the traitor in the time he had left.

  “Not what you wanted to hear?” Yuiko tilted her head.

  Nao sighed. “Don’t worry about it. You did better than the gibberish the online translators gave me.”

  “They’re only good for a word here or there. I’m always happy to help a friend, Mr. Murata.”

  “You mean that?”

  Nao took another sip of tea. The extra shot of caffeine kept him from nodding off.

  “Of course.”

  “If I bring some accounting books here tomorrow, could you tell me if something funny is going on with them? I’ll need them done in a day.”

  “Aren’t the yakuza supposed to have funny books?”

  Yuiko tried to hide her laugh but failed. Nao pressed his lips together.

  “I’m sorry.” Yuiko bowed. “Outside a teahouse my words slip out without a thought. I could look over the books in a day.”

  Nao grabbed the note and stood. The world spun, and he steadied himself against the wall. He took a slow breath and waited until the whirling stopped.

  “Are you okay?” Yuiko asked.

  “I’m not used to staying up so late.” Nao gave another tired smile. “I’ll have someone bring the books here while a few of us go to a geisha teahouse to watch the Obon fires. Will you play your flute for us?”

  “I never let a friend down.”

  “Thank you again for translating.”

  Nao let go of the wall and staggered the few steps to the door.

  “Mr. Murata, perhaps you should spend a few hours at a hotel before the trains start.”

  “I don’t have time. I’ll take a taxi.”

  “We’ll call one for you. Until then, rest.”

  KUROSAWA CLEARED his throat. “We’re almost there, Father Murata.”

  Nao pressed his head against the window of the car. His bandages coiled around his arm collecting sweat like sponges. Today had to be the hottest night of the summer yet.

  Sakai had mentioned that the Matsukawa accountant Oshiro’s birthday was on the last night of Obon, so Nao had arranged a surprise party for the old man at a geisha teahouse and invited all potential traitors.

  Every part of his body ached, and if he could he would’ve stayed in bed. He could barely believe he even remembered to change the bandage, but without Kurosawa helping, it took twice as long.

  The buildings grew taller, their glass exteriors reflecting the car as it drove by. Nao never needed to travel to the business district.

  Kurosawa pulled up in front of a blue-green building. A chill crept down Nao’s spine. He wasn’t sure if it was because of how horrible he felt or that the Matsukawa-owned building in front of him didn’t brandish the inverted arrows of their crest. Of course, their legal businesses wouldn’t, but in every other district in Kyoto, the crest graced all their buildings.

  Kurosawa walked around the car and opened the door. Nao slumped out, straightening his coat with one arm since the other was in the sling. Sakai walked out of the office building with a large box wrapped in red paper and greeted Nao formally with a bow low enough that Nao wondered if he was being condescending.

  “Thank you, Kurosawa,” Sakai said. “I’ll take Murata from here.”

  Kurosawa nodded. “I’ll be back in half an hour when everyone is ready to go to the party.”

  Nao rolled his eyes. Of course Kurosawa didn’t care about being a bodyguard as long as Nao was with Sakai. Even when Nao was with Chen, Kurosawa followed him around.

  “Don’t forget Aki!” Nao yelled as Kurosawa walked off.

  Kurosawa’s hands clenched into a fist, then loosened. “Yes, Father Murata.”

  When Nao had gone over the invites to the party with Kurosawa, he’d happily accepted Sakai and Ikida. When Nao had said Chen, he’d received a curious brow, but at the suggestion of Aki, Kurosawa had lectured about his low rank.

  Kurosawa slammed the car door shut and pulled away. Sakai grinned, and Nao wanted to punch it off his face.

  “What’s with the box?” Nao asked.

  “It’s a gift for you. Why not open it now?”

  Nao frowned. If Sakai wanted to give him anything, it would be a list of why he wasn’t qualified to be godfather.

  The wrapping paper glistened in the setting sun, and reminded Nao of Aki’s folding cranes. With one arm, Nao couldn’t hold the box and open it at the same time, so Sakai held it. Inside the box lay a tan-colored briefcase with Nao’s name and the Matsukawa crest engraved beside the lock. He couldn’t escape the symbolism. It was Sakai’s way of saying Nao was head of the Matsukawa and not some street-level punk who could go around getting blood on his hands.

  Sakai smiled. “Do you like it? All of the ward leaders chipped in to get you this as an extra welcoming gift.”

  The secret Sakai’s wife had told Chen was about a fucking briefcase. No. It couldn’t be so simple. Nao put the briefcase back in the box.

  “Who thought of the gift?” Nao asked.

  “My wife. She thought you could use one after meeting you.”

  “Tell her thank you for me, then. I’ll pick it up after we’re done with the tour.”

  Sakai opened the door and dropped off the briefcase at the entry. He held open the door for Nao. Each step weighed him down. If he slept for three days after busting the traitor, he would still be exhausted.

  “We’ll start from the top and work our way down,” Sakai said as they stepped into the wooden-paneled elevator. “We own the building and have seven businesses stationed here.”

  Nao shook his head. “First, where’s my list?”

  “List?”

  “You were supposed to give me a list of potential bodyguards.”

  Sakai laughed. “So many of them are vacationing for Obon. You wouldn’t be able to interview them anyway.”

  “When I ask you to do something, I expect it to be done.” The muscles clenched in Nao’s arm.

  “Don’t worry. Even if rain falls or spears fall, it’ll be done next Friday.”

  Nao rubbed his temple. They weren’t even at the top floor, and Sakai had started spewing his idioms. All Nao wanted to do was shove Sakai against the wall and make him suffer until he told all his secrets. Sakai undermined everything Nao said, and it would continue until Nao showed him who was boss.

  Silence fell between them, and Nao glanced at his phone. He had told Kohta to double-check other places selling drugs, but it was still early for Shima. Maybe Nao should’ve tempted Kohta with a luxury-brand wallet for quick findings.

  The elevator slowed to a stop and chimed as the doors opened. The two men walked out, and Sakai escorted Nao down the vari
ous drab green hallways.

  “Our largest companies work out of this building,” Sakai said. “They’re a real-estate firm and a tech security company.”

  Nao grinned. “It’s nice to know the Matsukawa handles security on the business side, too.”

  “No one would be able to trace it back to the family, of course. Even our employees haven’t the faintest idea their company’s profits eventually feed into a yakuza bank account.”

  “That’s good with the new laws.”

  Sakai unlocked a door to a room full of ceiling-high black towers. “This is the heart of the security company. Thousands of businesses use us for all their encoding. Occasionally, a business will come to me wanting to get some dirt on a rival company. If the company uses us, we have all their information here.”

  “So, you’re saying the business side also does illegal activity?” Nao asked.

  “Corporations have much deeper pockets than local businesses giving protection money. They benefit the family more.”

  Nao’s nostrils flared, the Matsukawa existed because of city-level protection. In a sentence, Sakai had insulted not only the whole street side of the syndicate, but also decades of history. Sakai acted like the business side was nothing but clean money; while in reality, it was as bad as the street operations. On the street, the players were known, but on the corporate side, there was no telling who really controlled the company.

  “The family owes it to the city to be there for its people,” Nao said.

  “Of course, Kyoto is our home, but it’s good to diversify by stepping into foreign markets. I hear America is looking to start a railway project. It might be good to—”

  “No.” Nao cut Sakai off. “We’re Japanese. We stay in Japan, and should keep the focus on helping Kyoto’s economy.”

  “But the financial gain—”

  “Is moot if it doesn’t help the city,” Nao snapped. “How much of our business is exclusively with Kyoto?”

  “Most of the headquarters are here.”

  “Funnel more money to Kyoto tourism. Then we can show others the wonder of the city, because if Kyoto doesn’t flourish, we don’t. Invest in ourselves and not in some train none of us will ever use.”

  Sakai blinked. “I’ll make a note to discuss it at our next meeting.”

  Nao rubbed his cell phone in his pocket as Sakai locked up the room. Nao needed to focus more on questioning him rather than Sakai’s lack of city pride.

  “The next floor is our real-estate company,” Sakai said, opening up the stairway door.

  Nao glanced down at the winding staircase, and the room tilted to the side. He grabbed ahold of the railing to steady himself. The stairway probably wasn’t air-conditioned, and the heat caught up with him.

  “Why did you suggest Ikida as the underboss?” Nao asked, his voice echoing in the empty space.

  “He was one of the lawyers for the street team. I figured he had the best of both worlds.”

  Nao cocked an eyebrow. “Funny, he told me he helped merge companies.”

  “During the war with the Koreans, I moved him from a corporate lawyer to work with the street team.”

  “Why didn’t you choose someone from the street team as underboss?”

  “You’re already experienced with the street side of things. You needed someone who could help you tackle the mountain of paperwork on your desk.” Sakai chuckled.

  Nao glared, which stifled Sakai’s laugh. “My desk is clear.”

  “You read all the reports?”

  The wrinkled lines around Sakai’s eyes told Nao everything. Sakai really thought Nao couldn’t do anything. Nao might’ve been in an insomnia-induced delirium while he read most of the reports, but he had read through every complex business term.

  “You shouldn’t question what I say,” Nao said through clenched teeth.

  “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to.”

  Nao puffed out his chest, pushing it against Sakai and making him take a step down so that Nao loomed above. Sakai needed to learn his place.

  “What about the contingency plan?” Nao asked. “Is that taken care of like I ordered?”

  “Of course.”

  Nao kept his face blank. “You handled it personally?”

  “Fujimoto had the key to the apartment, so he told me one of his underlings handled the cleanup.”

  “So the drugs were destroyed.”

  “Without fail.”

  “Good.”

  Nao pushed passed Sakai and started down the stairs. Sakai had lied. It would be impossible to destroy them since they couldn’t open the locker without the key.

  “Let’s get Oshiro for the party,” Nao said.

  “But we’ve only seen half of the offices.”

  “I get the idea. Kurosawa should’ve picked everyone up by now. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

  Sakai sighed. “Oshiro’s down this way.”

  Nao kept his hand on the railing so he wouldn’t get dizzy again as they circled down the stairs a few floors.

  “How long has Oshiro handled the Matsukawa accounting?” Nao asked.

  “Longer than I’ve been with the family.”

  Nao nodded. It was impressive. “How’d you get him to come in on the weekend?”

  “Told him we needed to get the books caught up since he’d been out sick.”

  A small pang of guilt hit Nao for forcing the man who had to be the most senior member of the Matsukawa to come into work on his own birthday, but Nao had to get the books to Yuiko.

  Even though they had walked down only four flights of stairs, exhaustion snuck back into him. It was going to be a long night if he was ready for bed before he’d even stepped foot in the geisha teahouse.

  Kurosawa and Chen sat on a clay-brown sofa of the floor lobby. Aki stood along the wall beside them, his purple jumpsuit replaced with a cheap suit. Even if it looked a size too big, it showed off his body more than the shapeless sack he wore at headquarters. Nao shook his head. It wasn’t the time to admire Aki’s lean frame.

  “Is Ikida in the restroom?” Nao asked.

  “He called earlier,” Kurosawa said. “His mother passed.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  Nao’s jaw clenched. Chen might’ve been the biggest suspect when it came to the drugs, but Nao wanted to keep an eye on Ikida. The whole conversation with Taejin in English had left a bitter taste in Nao’s mouth.

  “Let’s surprise Oshiro and get the party started.” Nao forced a smile.

  Nao followed Sakai down the hall, the others trailing behind. Sakai knocked on the door before opening.

  Oshiro sat behind a desk with an accounting book spread open in front of him. His yellow computer hummed as he typed in numbers. His eyes were still alert, which made Nao smile. He had to keep excellent books.

  Sakai cleared his throat, interrupting Oshiro from his work. “Oshiro, this is Father Murata.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Oshiro bowed. He was thin, and his suit had been in style forty years ago. “I’m sorry for my absence and promise it isn’t my usual behavior.”

  “Are the books finished?” Nao asked.

  “Yes. I’m transferring them to the computer now. I’m old-fashioned, so I like working with the paper.”

  “Understandable. You’ve been with the family for years now, so you deserve a little break. No more working this weekend. In fact, we wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”

  Sakai sang and everyone else joined.

  Yuiko would go over the books after the party, and tomorrow Nao would be able to see if the drugs were a ploy to filter money into the Matsukawa bands or if Snaggletooth or Chen were acting alone. Nao hoped that once at the party he’d be able to determine if Chen knew anything about the drugs.

  “What a wonderful surprise!” Oshiro said.

  Nao stepped behind Oshiro’s desk. “This isn’t your surprise. We’re taking you to a geisha teahouse.”

  His eyes lit up. “How many geiko-in-training are
you having? Those girls are so cute.”

  Nao shook his head. “There’s enough for everyone.”

  “Let’s get going, then. No need to keep the girls waiting.”

  Oshiro strolled out of his closet office, and Sakai and the others shuffled behind. Aki waited for the others to leave first and Nao reached out and took his hand. Nao’s thumb caressed Aki’s knuckle. His white skin against Nao’s pigmented thumb somehow felt right.

  “Murata?” Aki said under his breath.

  Nao drew back his hand, but his fingertips missed the touch of another. “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Anything you desire.”

  “Pack up the accounting books and take them to this address.”

  “Oh.”

  The smile on Aki’s face when Nao had told him to get dressed for a geisha teahouse had been wider than Nao had ever seen. Nao had assumed Aki would realize Nao had other plans for him. It would be impossible for someone as low in rank as he was to join them at the party. Aki couldn’t even formally join the Matsukawa until his training was done.

  Aki grabbed one of the accounting books. “So take them to this address and then…”

  “Go home.”

  Nao took no enjoyment from Aki’s vacant eyes. Nao said it to save Aki from the death the city would bring him if Nao took a lover. Aki’s safety depended on Nao crushing any kindling desire.

  Aki pressed his lips together and turned away. “As you wish, Father Murata.”

  “I’M GLAD YOU SAW my point about Hisona accompanying us,” Kurosawa said.

  “I decided that telling him to jack off thinking of me would be more entertainment than having him tag along.” Nao grinned. “Especially when I told him he couldn’t cum until I returned.”

  A low sigh left Kurosawa, and Nao grinned. It was too easy to push his homophobic buttons. He had gotten a little better, but still.

  Nao pulled his attention back to the party game led by the geiko-in-training. She stood like a warrior holding a spear, while on the other side of a folding screen, Oshiro crouched on his knees pretending to be a tiger. The group clapped a song, and then the two revealed themselves. Oshiro roared and pretended to lunge at the geiko-in-training while she lunged at him with the pretend spear. Oshiro fell over in a dramatic death.