The Yakuza Path: Better Than Suicide

by Amy Tasukada

  “Let’s get closer to the trains,” Nao said. “We need to find the Westerner.”

  Down the stairs and to the main floors, Chen kept Nao updated with texts of Ikida’s location. Each nerve in Nao’s body fired, and with each deep breath, he controlled the adrenaline-filled beat of his heart.

  “There he is,” Kurosawa said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take him down now?”

  “Keep to the plan. We grab him and the drugs, then hand them both to the police. That way Yamada can’t decide to pin anything else on us.”

  Nao stayed to the side and watched Ikida weave in and out through the crowd. He clutched a suitcase, which had to be filled with money. A loud rumble shook the floor as they approached the trains and moved away from the lobby.

  The dealer stepped off the Platform O, one text read.

  The muscles in Nao’s arm twitched, and his nostrils flared. A dozen trains passed through Platform O. Ikida could grab the drugs and step onto an express train to Wakayama with only a few minutes’ window for Nao grab him.

  Does the dealer have the drugs? Nao typed.

  No.

  Nao’s eyes narrowed. “We can’t let Ikida get on a train.”

  “I’ll smash his face in if he tries,” Kurosawa said.

  Ikida turned and headed toward another set of platforms.

  Dealer heading inside.

  They were going to meet somewhere. They turned the corner, and Nao stopped. The Westerner tugged his backpack over his shoulder and walked by Nao. His sleeve caught underneath the backpack strap and exposed the red magnolia on his bicep.

  “Stay with Ikida. I’ll follow the dealer,” Nao said.

  Darting through the crowd, Nao kept a few yards from the dealer. His pulse pounded in his ears. He was so close to finishing, but then a businessman ran into him. The force knocked Nao down, and he scrambled back up through the man’s apology.

  Nao’s attention darted back to the dealer, but he couldn’t be found.

  “Shit.”

  Nao’s gaze darted around the station, and he walked a few staggered steps to attempt to find the dealer.

  Where is Ikida? Nao typed into his phone.

  Kurosawa answered, Lost him in the crowd.

  Several messages popped up after, but they read the same. Ikida had vanished. No one had seen where he’d wandered off to.

  Minutes passed, and Nao’s chest ached like it had been hit with a shotgun blast. He couldn’t allow the dismantling of the Matsukawa. He couldn’t be the one who left Kyoto unprotected.

  No positive messages flashed across his phone as Nao searched for the Western drug dealer, the Korean mule, or even Ikida. None could be found. They had to be meeting up in some restaurant or store to do the exchange.

  Nao glanced to the second story and caught sight of the backpack, but the Korean wasn’t holding it anymore. It was Aki.

  Nao’s mouth dropped.

  Why would Aki have the drugs? Aki couldn’t punch a kid in the nose when he was five, let alone fit into the standard yakuza mold in his twenties. There was no reason he should be anywhere near Ikida’s drugs.

  Nao stepped backward, bracing himself against the wall. He’d trusted Aki. He’d trusted him more than any other in the family. Had Aki pulled the wool over his eyes since the very beginning? Nao’s insides burned with betrayal, and he pinched his lips tight together to keep them from trembling. If he’d been wrong about Aki, how could he trust any of his judgments?

  Aki had been in collusion with Ikida the whole time. No one would think a house underling would be in cahoots with the underboss, which proved the perfect cover to Ikida.

  Aki’s thick accent and perfect tea-making skills had lured Nao into trusting him. The more Nao had discovered about the drugs, the more Aki had thrown himself at him. Each moment of their relationship built to distract him from the drugs.

  Nao’s nostrils flared as each of Aki’s tender words and lascivious moans rattled in his head like a machine gun.

  If he’d had any part in Ikida’s plot, he’d pay.

  The muscles in Nao’s fingers twitched as he imagined delivering the final squeeze on Aki’s neck to crush his windpipe. He was an imposter, a traitor to the Matsukawa, and needed to die.

  Get Aki, Nao texted. Get him now!

  Slamming into people as he ran, Nao kept pace with Aki in search of a staircase. He needed to properly interrogate him, and catching him with a backpack filled with drugs would make his confession so much more interesting.

  A wave of heat flushed through Nao’s body. While his gaze centered on Aki, he couldn’t help but notice the doubling of police officers gathering into position on the second story. Nao narrowed his eyes. Detective Yamada must’ve pieced together what the Matsukawa were planning and had decided to go behind Nao’s back to catch whoever they deemed responsible for the drugs.

  Aki looked too oblivious to realize their growing number. Nao had to get to Aki before the cops snatched him. Aki could spill any half-truth to the officers and they would take it like wanting whores. Ikida was involved in the drugs, and Sakai had something to do with it, too.

  Nao bounded up the stairs as the police surrounding Aki ran after him. Aki’s eyes widened before he shot past a group of strolling ladies and into a bathroom. The breath caught in Nao’s throat. If Aki had wanted to escape, he wouldn’t have run into a place where he could be cornered. Aki wanted to get caught with the drugs. Ikida might’ve realized Nao knew his plan and told Aki to surrender himself for the greater good like any honorable low-ranking yakuza.

  Police flooded the bathroom, then Aki screamed. They caused such a fuss the commuters stopped, allowing Nao to hide amongst the crowed. The more the officers shouted, the bigger the headline flashed in Nao’s mind. Yamada didn’t care if he captured the wrong person or if the drugs still found a way to course throughout Kyoto. He only wanted the police to look good after the disaster with the fallout of the Korean mob.

  The phone clutched in Nao’s hand flashed with texts from everyone asking what Aki looked like. Kurosawa sent a picture along with a message that Aki was supposed to be at headquarters.

  Nao swallowed the lump in his throat, but like a bullet it felt lodged in his neck. Aki was dead to them. Police screeching at Aki to stop resisting was caming through the bathroom door.

  Has anyone found Ikida? Nao typed and tapped his foot waiting for a reply.

  The police’s screams died down, and soon after, they dragged Aki out in handcuffs. Nao frowned, a bitter tang lingering in his mouth. A part of him wanted to look away and never think about Aki again, but the bitterness spilled into his stomach, swirling his anger into a maelstrom of hurt and confusion.

  An officer whistled, zipping up the backpack. “It has to be the biggest haul on record.”

  “It was all my idea,” Aki said. “I take full responsibility for everything involved.”

  “You can write it all down at the station. Now come on.”

  The officer pushed Aki forward as the crowd parted for the horde. Nao rubbed his hand against the stair railing and climbed back down. Something felt off about Aki.

  Nao’s phone blinked. Found Ikida. He’s heading toward the train for Wakayama station.

  The hairs on the back of Nao’s neck stood, sending a pinprick of rage through each nerve ending. Nao waited and then followed Ikida with enough people separating them that he wouldn’t be detected. He moved in a straight line, making it easy for Nao to anticipate each of his movements and proving he didn’t know he was being followed.

  The last call for the departing train echoed on the platform before Ikida stepped over the yellow line and into a cabin. Nao stepped into the next one over and kept his head low. He watched Ikida through the window between the two. A few others boarded the train in the final seconds before it took off.

  Nao’s fingernails bit into the palm of his hands. It took everything for him not to slide open the door and pounce on Ikida right in the middle of the packed trai
n. Nao couldn’t do it in front of so many people. The average citizen had already experienced too much violence when the Korean mob had tried to take over the city. Nao wouldn’t allow the Matsukawa activities to spill out of the underworld.

  The train slowed to a stop, and the group of commuters around Nao thinned as he glanced up. Ikida’s mouth dropped, and he scrambled out of the cabin.

  Ikida clutched the handle of his suitcase and broke into a run. The crowd parted to make way for them. Nao’s muscles burned. Ikida darted and knocked people over in a panicked escape.

  The burning of Nao’s legs spread through to his chest with each stride closer to Ikida. He jumped up the stairs and knocked over a man distracted by his phone.

  “Stop running and face what you did!” Nao yelled, but his words didn’t slow Ikida’s pace.

  Everything else disappeared as Nao’s heavy breaths echoed in his ears. For tainting Kyoto, Ikida would pay.

  Ikida pushed past a businesswoman, knocking her off her slender heels, and darted into the men’s bathroom.

  Nao reached inside his jacket. He pushed into the bathroom, but a sharp pain shot through his head. Black specks dotted his world like the ash floating up from a furnace. Nao stumbled back, closing the door shut behind him. The briefcase landed on the floor, bursting open and spilling cash.

  “Ikida, you traitor!” Nao yelled.

  “Father Murata, l-let’s talk about this,” Ikida said.

  “I don’t want to hear a word from your mouth.”

  He stumbled back to his feet, and Ikida puffed out his chest. Nao leaped forward and grabbed a fistful of Ikida’s hair. Adrenaline rushed through Nao as he dragged Ikida to the urinals. Each of his pleas fell on deaf ears. Ikida didn’t even deserve to open his mouth around Nao. He pulled Ikida up by the hair to meet his eyes.

  A cool breath escaped Nao, and with it he released a little of his rage. He couldn’t let the monster inside take over. Ikida needed to be apprehended and not delivered to the police as a corpse. It didn’t mean he couldn’t break a few bones first.

  “Please, Murata,” Ikida said.

  Nao smiled, tightening his grip on Ikida’s locks, and slammed his head against a urinal. His skull bounced against the porcelain, and his scrambling legs slackened. Nao lifted his head, ready to slam it back down, but stopped at the sight of blood dripping down Ikida’s nose and mouth.

  “Tell me everything,” Nao said through clenched teeth.

  Ikida’s eyes rolled in their sockets. “N-nothing. There’s nothing.”

  “The fact that you were pleading a few minutes ago speaks differently.”

  Nao released his hold on Ikida, who crawled toward a cracked, opened briefcase.

  “Look, I have money. I can give it all to you,” Ikida said.

  “I don’t care about money.”

  Nao pressed a boot into the center of Ikida’s back then planted another boot against Ikida’s head. His face squished against the white tile floor stained red with his own blood.

  “What I care about is your confession,” Nao said.

  Ikida sniffled; tears mixed with snot ran down his face. Nao kneeled and his lips curled. His fingers caressed the gun in its holster before he pulled it free.

  “Let’s try this again.” Nao shoved the gun in Ikida’s mouth. The clicking of his teeth along the barrel sent a shiver of pleasure down Nao’s spine. It was as if something pressed against his skin from the inside out. He could contain the monster inside. He had to.

  “Do you have something to say before I see how pretty your brains look against the wall?”

  Ikida mumbled around the gun.

  “Don’t think I won’t go after your family to get the information I need about the drugs. It’s too bad—your daughter seemed like a nice girl. I could tear her up limb from limb and throw her in the same furnace where your corpse will end up if you don’t talk.”

  Ikida’s eyes widened, and his mumbling became more frantic Nao pushed the gun down Ikida’s throat. He gagged, but Nao didn’t let up.

  “Are you ready now? Because if I’m not happy with your answer, I have men waiting outside your home.”

  It wasn’t true, but Ikida didn’t know that. He nodded in agreement, and Nao pulled out the gun, letting it press against Ikida’s temple.

  “The drugs were benefiting the Matsukawa as well,” Ikida sniffed and then broke into a full sob.

  “I don’t care. Why did you betray everything we stood for!”

  “My mother hated that I was in the yakuza, so she sold her house back to the government.” A long sob echoed in the air. “I had to pay back the government in full to keep the home. Surely you can understand the historical significance.”

  Nao blinked. Ikida betrayed the family for a house. The weeks’ worth of loss of sleep and getting an infection in his arm was all because Ikida wanted to keep a house? Nao ground his teeth together and jabbed the gun in Ikida’s temple.

  “You have the house already. Why did you go through another delivery?” Nao asked.

  Snot ran down Ikida’s chin. “To help with repairs!”

  How could Ikida know about the drug supply so easily? He was a corporate drone; there had to be some link for him to get in contact with Taejin. Nao shook his head but kept the gun against Ikida’s temple.

  “What did Sakai’s wife have to do in all of this?”

  Ikida shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Nao narrowed his eyes. “You think I’m stupid now? I saw her leave your home.”

  “We’re having an affair.” Ikida’s eyes darted to the side.

  “That’s the biggest lie I’ve heard in a long time.”

  “She was just doing what Sakai asked her.”

  Nao laughed. “And what was that? The English writing wasn’t yours. It had to be Sakai’s.”

  “I went to Sakai about the house to see if there was anything I could do. No banks would give me a loan since I worked for the yakuza. Sakai suggested using the contingency drugs, but only if a percentage was shared with the family. I didn’t realize it would go against your wishes. Whatever you want me to do I’ll do it. Please, just leave my family out of this!”

  If Sakai was the ringleader, he was the one who should be brought to the police. But Ikida couldn’t fill the hole Sakai would leave if he weren’t part of the Matsukawa. No one could fill the vacuum, which would be left in Sakai’s wake.

  “Father Murata, I swear—”

  “You know how much suffering you put me through.” Nao clenched his teeth.

  “I humbly apologize for my indiscretion.” Ikida stretched out his arm toward the briefcase. “I have money. You can take it all.”

  Nao raised a brow. “Those were for the drugs.”

  “Y-yes, the dealer didn’t arrive at the meeting on time. But it’s yours now, Father Murata.”

  Nao’s chest tightened. “What about Aki?”

  Ikida blinked. “Aki?”

  “Aki Hisona.”

  “I don’t know who he is.”

  The gun fell limp in Nao’s hand for a second before he clutched it again. It was wrong to allow his imagination to contrive a plot in which Aki had played as some kind of grand distraction. Aki’s only crime was trying to protect the family and doing what he thought underlings were supposed to do. Nao held his breath, hoping he could get Ikida to the police station before they hurt Aki.

  Nao loosened the tie around his neck all the while keeping the gun on Ikida’s temple.

  “Please forgive me,” Ikida said.

  No amount of pleading could change Nao’s mind. He undid his tie and knotted it around Ikida’s wrist.

  “What are you doing? Please don’t do that, Murata,” Ikida pleaded. “I promise I didn’t realize how—”

  “Shut up! You’re paying for what you did.”

  “PLEASE, I’LL DO anything!” Ikida begged.

  Nao rubbed his temple. Ikida had pleaded for the past five minutes as Kurosawa drove to the police station.

/>   “Shut up already!”

  Nao pulled his arm back and slammed against Ikida’s jaw with a satisfying crunch. A dull ache shot through Nao’s knuckles, but Ikida’s bottom jaw jutted out a little too far. Tears welled in his eyes.

  “P-lea, Ma…” Ikida swallowed his slurred words, but his jaw didn’t move back in place.

  Even with Ikida’s broken jaw, Nao could imagine him pleading the rest of the way to the police station. Nao grabbed the end of Ikida’s dangling tie and shoved it into his slackened mouth. A large line of snot ran down Ikida’s nose, resting on his lip and catching the edge of his blue printed tie.

  Nao looked away, tapping his fingers along the leather-lined doors. As the godfather’s son, Nao had never worried about being mistreated by the police. But they were known to be rougher with yakuza held in custody. Nao had heard stories from Nakamura about how the police had beaten him with bamboo kenodo swords and made him walk across nails. He had even shown Nao the scars left on his feet. Nao took a deep breath and hoped that since Aki looked so innocent, the police wouldn’t be too rough with him.

  The car slowed to a stop, and Kurosawa opened Nao’s door. Ugly tears streamed down Ikida’s face. Even if Sakai had played a part in the drugs, Ikida had brought them into the streets. He’d caused Nao too much trouble to not take the fall.

  “Wait for my return,” Nao said to Kurosawa. “Hopefully this won’t take long.”

  Nao jerked Ikida’s bound wrist and dragged him from the car. They walked toward the stone façade of the police headquarters. He had done it. He’d found the real traitor before midnight. At one point, Nao had thought it would be impossible; but with Kohta, Kurosawa, and even Chen’s help, they were able to complete the task. Getting their help sooner would’ve made it easier, but Nao’s trust in them was deeper than if he’d never asked.

  The police officers glanced up as Nao pushed Ikida through to the back rooms, but they said nothing. Nao had been to the station many times for questioning, and when he’d been young, his father had sat him outside Detective Yamada’s office while they’d negotiated.