The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide

by Amy Tasukada

  Ikida’s eyes widened. “I’m arranging craftsmen to make repairs.”

  “It’s shameful to let it get in such bad shape.”

  “My mother wasn’t up to many things in her later years.”

  Nao scraped his fingernail along a shelf, cutting into a line of grime and dust. “Perhaps you should get these cleaned before putting up more books.”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Repairs would be expensive, wouldn’t they?”

  Ikida nodded. “Luckily there are many traditional craftsmen still in Kyoto.”

  “That is if they choose to work with you. You are my right-hand man, even if it hasn’t felt like it.”

  “I’ll be back to work tomorrow,” Ikida said.

  Nao grabbed one of the books off the shelves. “Do you think you’ll enjoying working on both sides of the family business now?”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  A glint in Ikida’s eyes dug into Nao’s thoughts. Ikida was keeping something from him, and Nao would find out. He had to translate the note and confront Chen about the drugs.

  “I’ll look forward to your hard work,” Nao said. “It’s best Kurosawa and I get going.”

  “Of course, let me show you to the door.” Ikida gave a rough smile. “You’re welcome to come again.”

  “Perhaps once I don’t have to worry about inhaling black mold.”

  THE SUN HUNG IN the air, and the dull pain returned to Nao’s arm. He yawned and leaned his head against the window.

  “This isn’t the way to the historic district,” Nao said.

  The buildings weren’t getting smaller and more subdued in colors, but larger and with advertising plastered on each surface.

  “You said you wanted to ask Chen something, and he can read English. You don’t need to bring an outsider into this.”

  “I trust Yuiko.”

  Kurosawa shook his head. “And I trust Chen, and you should, too.”

  “There are drugs being sold in his ward, and he has done nothing about it.”

  “I’m sure there’s a good explanation. All you had to do was ask.”

  “He’s going to lie about it.”

  Kurosawa sighed. “I’ve worked with Chen for years, and you’ve only known him for three weeks. You can trust him.”

  Nao crossed his arms. He didn’t want to agree, but Kurosawa had a point. The only thing he knew about Chen was that he kept more trash stacked inside the safe house than outside in garbage bins.

  Once they arrived at the Shima safe house, Kurosawa walked around to open Nao’s door.

  “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Nao mumbled.

  “You did it your way for a week. If you had asked me for help, you probably would’ve figured out the traitor in a few hours. Can we do it my way for once?”

  Nao rubbed his neck. “Fine.”

  The gate buzzed, allowing them to enter. Last time they had waited five minutes before someone even answered the buzzer.

  “Did you tell them we were coming?” Nao asked.

  “I don’t want to see Chen’s dick again.”

  Snaggletooth opened the door as they approached, and bowed a formal greeting. Nao took off his shoes, catching his reflection in the shining floorboards.

  “Would you like some tea, Father Murata?” Snaggletooth asked. “I made it myself.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “I can make you some breakfast.”

  Nao’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food, but he swallowed his hunger down.

  “Perhaps later,” Nao said. “I have some questions to ask you first.”

  Snaggletooth’s mouth dropped. “Me?”

  “I thought you wanted to speak to Chen?” Kurosawa said.

  “Him first, Chen second.” Nao turned to Snaggletooth. “Perhaps we can talk in the kitchen?”

  Snaggletooth led them to the spotless kitchen. A tin of Dragon Well tea, three teacups, and a teapot were laid out on a sparkling counter. Nao peeked at the temperature set on the water boiler then set it to one that wouldn’t scald the tea. He leaned against the counter beside Snaggletooth while Kurosawa stood against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

  “You delivered a letter to a Westerner a few days ago. Who gave you the note?” Nao asked.

  “Chen.”

  Nao nodded and turned around. It would be better if he didn’t look too concerned. He moved the teapot under the boiler and poured warm water into the pot.

  “Does he have you deliver notes to the Westerners often?”

  “The past few weeks, sure.” Snaggletooth chewed at his fingernail.

  “How often do you deliver the messages?”

  Snaggletooth shrugged. “Maybe once a week for the past three or so.”

  So the deals had been happening since Nao had become godfather. The transition might’ve sparked the traitor into thinking Nao would never notice the extra income in the books.

  Nao pressed his hand against the warmed ceramic teapot and dumped the used water in a nearby sink. Some tea would help him keep his focus and pep him up from the lack of sleep.

  “Did Chen give you the notes, or have other people given you any?” Kurosawa asked.

  “He was the only one.”

  Nao raised a brow. “The Westerners never gave you anything back or tell you anything?”

  Snaggletooth chewed on another fingernail as he spoke. “I don’t speak English, and Chen told me to give them the note and leave right away. Are you sure you don’t want my help with the tea, Father Murata?”

  “Don’t worry; making tea helps me think.” Nao put two spoonfuls of the flattened green tea leaves in the teapot and filled it with water. “Do you read English?”

  “I remember numbers and greetings from school.”

  Nao took a step closer to Snaggletooth and glared at his chewed fingers. His hands trembled, but after their initial shake he hid them behind his back. Snaggletooth wouldn’t dare lie to him.

  “Explain the business the Westerners have in Shima.” Nao demanded.

  Snaggletooth gulped. “Ch-Chen never explained. He said to leave them alone, but…”

  “But?”

  “There are some rumors.”

  “About what exactly?”

  “That they’re dealing drugs, but everyone knows it goes against everything we stand for.”

  Nao smiled. “That’s right. The Matsukawa don’t deal drugs, nor do we allow anyone to. If you hear someone speak of such rumors, smack them in the jaw.”

  “Y-yes, Father Murata.”

  “You ready to see Chen now?” Kurosawa asked.

  Nao leaned back on the counter and waited. “The tea needs another minute.”

  Kurosawa sighed, but making the tea centered Nao. His thoughts aligned, and the energy returned to each nerve ending. The rest of the minute passed in silence, until Nao pulled out the basket infuser and dropped it in the sink.

  “We can see Chen now.” Nao glanced at Snaggletooth. “Bring the tea.”

  Nao walked out with Kurosawa following behind. Snaggletooth trailed behind them, carrying the tea on a tray.

  “He’s in the office,” Snaggletooth said.

  Kurosawa opened the door for Nao. The scent of a floral air freshener linger in the air, and the papers on Chen’s desk were laid out in two organized stacks. He dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt. He didn’t wear a jacket and tie like Nao or Kurosawa, but Nao could forgive him the misstep for the short notice.

  Snaggletooth filled the teacups and closed the door behind them.

  “How can I help you, Father Murata?” Chen asked as he straightened from his bow.

  One of his hands stayed on the desk as if to steady himself. Nao grabbed one of the teacups and let it warm his hands but waited to sit. Instead he studied Chen. He shuffled his feet, and his forehead wrinkled. He was worried about something, but after Nao’s last visit, Chen had a lot to prove.

  “How is business going?” Nao sat
and the others followed.

  “We’re a little slow after the festival season, but it’s good.”

  Chen took a sip of the tea, and his eyes widened. Good tea would give a glint to anyone’s eyes.

  Nao glanced at Kurosawa. “Give him the envelope.”

  Kurosawa reached into his coat pocket and placed the cash envelope on the desk. Nao waited, but Chen’s expression didn’t change. After a few quiet moments, Chen gulped and reached for the envelope. He peeked inside.

  “I thought Kayako was going to bring the payment,” Chen said. “Is something wrong?”

  Nao pressed his lips together. So Kayako had intended to give the cash to Chen to pass along to the drug dealer along with the English note.

  “We ran into her on our way to visit Ikida,” Nao said.

  “Then we’ll give this to the Westerner at the agreed time.” Chen bit his lip.

  Nao raised his eyebrow. “Westerner?”

  “I-I’m sorry, Father Murata.” Chen’s lip quivered. “But I couldn’t let the Matsukawa get caught up with all of this.”

  Nao ran his thumb over the edge of the teacup. “Tell me how this came about.”

  “When Ikida came and said you ordered us to start selling in Shima…” Chen rubbed his face. “I know the war probably cost us a lot, but I didn’t think it was that much.”

  The warm tea filled Nao’s throat and snuffed out any lingering rage within. He could control the situation better by talking than allowing his anger to take over his fists.

  Nao stood and paced the room. Ikida had betrayed the family, but none of the English notes matched his handwriting. Sakai’s handwriting still hadn’t been confirmed, and his wife acted as the go-between. Sakai had to have a hand in the drugs.

  Nao set the teacup down on the desk and loomed over Chen. He slouched in his chair, making himself small.

  “Continue with what you were saying,” Nao said.

  “I-I couldn’t let the Matsukawa get caught up directly. So I asked Ikida if it was all right to get some Westerners to act as a go-between. I assumed he asked if it was okay with you before granting permission.”

  “Who communicates with the Westerners?”

  “Kayako comes with the notes, but Ikida called once when that bad cut killed off the prostitute. He assured us there would be no more deaths. We can’t have the police sniffing around too much.”

  The muscles in Nao’s arm twitched, and he slammed his fist against the desk. Their teacups rattled against the wood.

  “You so easily believe I would go against everything the Matsukawa stood for!” Nao yelled.

  “I didn’t realize.”

  Nao reached across the table and grabbed Chen’s collar. Fear flooded Chen’s eyes as Nao pulled him closer.

  “What kind of godfather do you think I would be, allowing drugs in the city?” Nao said between clenched teeth.

  “Ikida has betrayed Father Murata,” Kurosawa said. “He never gave any order to sell drugs.”

  Chen’s mouth dropped, and his words slurred. “I—I didn’t know. I thought with your arm and the medicine.”

  Nao scoffed. “That I would be okay with polluting the city?”

  “No, no. I don’t think that.”

  “What you did was incomprehensible.”

  “For—forgive me.”

  “You think I’ll ever forgive you!”

  Kurosawa put a hand on Nao’s arm. “Chen was doing what was ordered. Ikida’s the one to blame, not him.”

  Nao slowly released his grip and brushed the sleeves of his jacket. “He betrayed this whole family.”

  “Let’s kick his ass!” Chen said. “The war killed five of my men, and here Ikida was trying to put the Matsukawa on the same level as the Korean scum.”

  A tingling rose on Nao’s skin. Chen was as ready to take down Ikida as he was. All Nao would have had to do was tell Chen from the beginning and he could’ve solved who was selling the drugs within minutes. He could’ve trusted Chen like he could’ve trusted Kurosawa.

  Nao took the English note out of the wallet and put it in front of Chen. “Ikida isn’t the only one trying to make us look like fools. What does the note say, Chen?” Nao asked.

  “My English isn’t the best,” Chen started, “but it says the money is their cut of the drugs and that the full payment for the new supply will be given at eight o’clock tonight at Kyoto’s main station.”

  “So we have a good amount of time to come up with a plan,” Kurosawa said.

  “If we work on this together, we can take down everyone,” Nao said.

  “I’m happy to—” Chen was cut off by Nao’s vibrating phone.

  Kohta had texted Nao about Kayako. She was retracing her steps and looked worried. She must’ve realized she’d lost the cash.

  “Chen, call Kayako and say Ikida brought the money over because she’d accidently dropped it on her way out.” Nao glanced to both of them. “The betrayal ends tonight, and everyone responsible will pay.”

  THE FLOORS OF KYOTO station shined onyx black under Nao’s polished shoes. The number of people in the station tripled during the rush hour. The stream of suited office workers helped camouflage Nao and three dozen Matsukawa from Chen’s ward. Yet it made it harder to spot the Westerners and whoever was there to meet with them on the deal.

  Nao brought up the group text on his phone. Kurosawa had set it up while they’d discussed the plan at Chen’s. The time between finalizing the details and the drug delivery had allowed Nao to catch up on sleep, change his bandages, and force down a late lunch under Kurosawa’s supervision.

  The three dozen recruits checked in every minute, and Nao’s phone blinked with each new “clear” text someone sent. Nao glanced over his shoulder at Kurosawa.

  “You see anything?” Nao asked.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary. We’re still a few minutes early, according to the note.”

  Nao stepped toward the railing and glanced to the floors below. Even with three dozen recruits, they couldn’t see every hiding place the large station offered. Nao tapped his foot and pressed his elbow against his side. A slow smile spread across his face at the feeling of the bulge of the gun in his holster.

  “Do you think we have time to call more help down here?” Nao asked.

  “I can try, Father Murata, but we’ve already got all the extra from the wards. I don’t think there’s enough time to get them here.”

  Nao scrolled up through the texts to the picture of the Westerner Chen had snapped when he’d had handed him the note, but they couldn’t be sure that the one dealing would be the same one to pick up the delivery. Nao examined the stranger’s face then glanced over the crowd. Nao’s phone vibrated in his hand. His eyes narrowed; Kurosawa had set it up so the group text would be silent.

  Where are you? Kohta texted.

  Second floor balcony, Nao typed back.

  In less than a minute, Nao caught Kohta bounding up the stairs. His black leather pants and crushed-rose-printed shirt stuck out enough that anyone from across the station could see him coming.

  Nao took a step back as Kohta raced over.

  “All the… bathrooms… are clear,” Kohta said, catching his breath between words. “Even the ladies’.”

  Kohta hadn’t needed much convincing to find ways to stumble into the ladies’ restroom.

  “You didn’t need to come see me to tell me that,” Nao said. “Go back and keep checking.”

  He lingered before reaching into a plastic bag and pulling out Nao’s boots. “You looked better in them anyway.”

  It might’ve been an inconvenient time, but Nao gladly slipped off his dress shoes and zipped on his boots. He handed the discarded pair to Kurosawa.

  “Could you believe it I got the brand wrong? I thought they were Gucci but when I got them home, I realized they were from Black Jack.”

  “So a Western brand?”

  Kohta laughed. “Come on, everyone knows Black Jack is a Japanese brand.”


  No wonder Nao liked them more than the others. He wiggled his toes in the shoes; superior Japanese craftsmanship cushioned his feet.

  Kohta rubbed his neck. “I also wanted to ask you something.”

  Nao raised a brow. “What?”

  “Once we catch this guy, my debt’s repaid, yeah, boss?”

  “If we catch him, sure.”

  “Would helping with all this make it so I could bypass scrubbing toilets?”

  “You want to join the family?” Nao cracked a smile.

  “I think I saw the worst of it last night. So I think I can handle it, boss.”

  “We’ll see, Kohta, go check the bathrooms.”

  Nao glanced back at his phone.

  A text came in. There’s a lot more police than usual.

  Others checked in reporting a clear or agreeing about the extra police. Nao spotted an officer a few yards away then another on the other opposite side pretending to inspect a vending machine. The police caught Nao’s gaze and stared at him as if daring him to make the first move.

  Detective Yamada had said he had people following Nao, but he had ditched them easily enough. No matter how their suits blended in with the other business workers, the way they held themselves pointed out all the yakuza in the station. Nao had avoided being tailed before, but with dozens of men dotted around the station, it would be impossible to escape without a distraction.

  Ikida entered the train station, Chen texted.

  Nao’s muscles tightened around his phone.

  Follow him, Nao typed back.

  “Kohta.” Nao stopped him before he got too far. “Go do one of your magic tricks and make the cop disappear.”

  “A cop and a card are two different things.”

  “Consider this a test to see if you can do something besides cleaning floors for a year.”

  Nao shoved Kohta forward and watched him stroll through a group of people. He bumped into one of their shoulders but walked on. Then a few yards away from the cop Nao hadn’t had have a staring contest with, Kohta patted his pockets.

  “That guy stole my wallet!” Kohta yelled and pointed.

  The whole station floor scurried as Kohta kept on pointing and yelling at the cop to do something about it. Kurosawa shook his head. He tied Nao’s shoelaces together then draped the shoes around his neck.