The Yakuza Path: Blood Stained Tea

by Amy Tasukada

  The surgical mask around Saehyun’s mouth and nose trapped each breath he took. Saehyun shoved his hands into his pockets and turned the corner, only to come to a stop when he saw a group of construction workers assembling a float. There was no hammering of nails or bottles of glue to be found, only ropes and metal fasteners. One worker used a large needle, weaving in and out of a cross section of four beams, creating a pattern like grasped fingers interlocking.

  Saehyun watched, and time disappeared as he viewed the float’s construction. It wasn’t until the workers stopped for lunch that Saehyun moved. Stepping back onto the narrow streets in the center of Kyoto, he could feel Lee’s breath against his neck. The drugs shoved in the backpack Saehyun wore were late by an hour, perhaps two. Lee had pushed the drug delivery to get back at him for taking a few days off here and there. Heejun had probably suggested it. Saehyun needed to kick his ass the next time he saw him.

  “Saehyun, have you seen Hiro?” one of the newer recruits called.

  Saehyun had trained him three weeks ago but couldn’t remember his name. They were all blurring together like the streets the Double Moon controlled.

  “He’s probably at the safe house.”

  “He hasn’t been there since we ran from the yakuza last week. What if the Japanese bastards got him?”

  “Don’t worry so much.”

  Hiro was already ash, spread out in the mountains surrounding Kyoto, but there was no reason to tell the new guys that killing Koreans was the Matsukawa’s favorite pastime. Saehyun needed the recruits to think they were indestructible.

  “Where’s the rest of your group?” Saehyun took off the backpack. He could get one of them to deliver it.

  “Up ahead.”

  The two continued down the path and turned the corner to see another wooden float, left alone in the middle of the street except for the group of three Koreans gathered at the corner. Saehyun didn’t recognize them, so he could only guess that Hiro had trained them.

  Saehyun’s stomach grumbled, ready for an early dinner. He could go to Nao’s and get some dumplings. He still had the drugs, though, and the thought of getting the drugs anywhere near Nao was an absolute no. Even if he went after he delivered them—if he delivered them—the whole thing was disgusting.

  One of the recruits picked up a wooden beam, rousing Saehyun from his thoughts. “What are you guys doing?”

  “Lee wanted us to fuck shit up. So we’re going to see how the Japanese bastards put together the float without one of the planks.”

  “I don’t know.” Saehyun watched as the others tried to move the plank, but the four of them could only lift it to their thighs.

  “Yeah, come on. Let’s dump it in the river.”

  Saehyun shook his head. Those guys needed more training. He’d have such a mess after they defeated the Matsukawa. Maybe after it was over, he could convince Taejin to let him borrow a few of the trained Osaka team until he could get his team whipped into shape. Or he could just leave the Double Moon entirely in the hands of someone else and go on with a quiet life with Nao.

  Saehyun could make his home anywhere as long as Nao was beside him.

  “This shit is heavy.” The recruits chattered on.

  “Maybe we can spray-paint them or something.”

  “We’re not kids anymore. We have to do something big.”

  “Take one of the parts.”

  “That’s a good idea. Let’s see how they’d cry over not having one of the floats because we took the parts.”

  They each grabbed one of the steel rings and started down the street. Saehyun could imagine the horror on Nao’s face if one of the floats somehow didn’t make it to the parade. It would be worse still for Saehyun if Nao ever found out he hadn’t kept it from happening. Saehyun couldn’t do that to him. He’d lied to him enough already. Saehyun wanted to do better for Nao and hoped, once he saw that, he’d be comfortable enough to be truthful with him.

  “Wait, we can’t do that,” Saehyun said.

  “What do you mean we can’t?”

  “It’s too much.”

  “Too much?”

  Saehyun grabbed one of the metal rings. “This isn’t getting back at the Matsukawa. It’s getting back at the people of Kyoto.”

  “Fuck the Japanese. They deserve it.”

  “No.” Saehyun took another ring from a different recruit. “We want to take over the city. We can’t do that if the people are against us. Destroying a Matsukawa-protected business is one thing, but a float that’s been around for over a thousand years is something the people would never forgive us for.”

  “You’re no fun, Saehyun.”

  “Go put the rings back. You think you don’t want to run into the Matsukawa? You should see me when I’m pissed. So don’t you dare touch any of the floats. Tell everyone you meet in the ward that.”

  Saehyun stood, waiting until all the pieces were back in place, and ordered the group on their way. Saehyun headed back toward the river. In a way, it was easier to travel around when the Double Moon controlled less of Kyoto. They could attack the Matsukawa and disperse into the crowd. With more members, they had fewer places left to hide and gave the Matsukawa an easier target. Hiro wasn’t the first one who’d died since the beginning of the month. Saehyun counted forty disappearances in total.

  The backpack he carried was supposed to pay for a new round of recruits, but Saehyun was pulled in the direction of Nao’s teahouse. He would dump the drugs once he got to the river. When Lee asked, he would say the Matsukawa grabbed him and took the backpack. Lee would be pissed from all the lost money, but they could handle the loss. More importantly, Saehyun wasn’t going to be a link in the chain that turned someone’s mother into an addict who abandoned her kid.

  Saehyun turned down another narrow street and was pushed back. His feet stumbled over each other, but he remained upright.

  “Who the fu—” Saehyun looked up to see Lee.

  “You got something to say to me? Like why the fuck it’s taking you so long?” Lee spat in front of Saehyun’s foot.

  “What? I’m heading over there now.”

  “You’ve been dicking around for the past two hours.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Your phone’s GPS, idiot.”

  Saehyun found it strange to see Lee out in the street, but with less than a month left to take over Kyoto, Lee had to be desperate.

  “I was checking in with some teams.”

  Lee’s fingers twisted into a fist, and Saehyun wanted to laugh. Lee might’ve looked the gangster part, but Saehyun couldn’t remember ever seeing him take a swing at anyone.

  “Stop having a lovefest with that jjokbari and get the job done. Both of our asses are on the line, but don’t think for a minute that when Godfather Taejin comes knocking, I’ll protect you. If you haven’t helped out, I’ll convince him you deserve to take all the blame.”

  Saehyun said nothing, and Lee’s face grew red. The veins popped out of his wrist, and Saehyun predicted the swing. He took a step back, easily avoiding the hit and leaving Lee in a half spin. Saehyun almost wanted to applaud the effort, but there was no way Lee would ever get a hit on him.

  “What was that for?” Saehyun said.

  “It was me that convinced Godfather Taejin to give us both a chance because you were as fucked as I was. If we fail, you better hope the police get to you first.”

  Saehyun grinned at Lee’s empty threat. Still, he dangled a debt over Saehyun, so Saehyun couldn’t beat the shit out of him to show him he belonged inside pushing papers. Lee pulled the backpack off Saehyun’s shoulders, twisting his arm in the strap. The shine of Lee’s gun caught the sun, blinding Saehyun before the metal pressed against his temple. Lee was on some foolhardy power trip to flash the weapon in public like there wasn’t a six-year jail sentence for owning it.


  “I need you in the game.” Lee pushed the gun against Saehyun’s head until he was back up against the side of the building.

  All the possible ways of disarming Lee shuffled behind Saehyun’s closed lids. Lee was more than a little trigger-happy, but he also needed Saehyun too much to shoot him. On the other hand, Lee was such a schemer, Saehyun wouldn’t put it past him to try to weasel Taejin into taking Saehyun’s corpse to the police station to get the blame.

  “We can take over Kyoto and take back all the things those Japanese fuckers have taken away from us. They treated us like second-class citizens because we weren’t born here or have pure Japanese blood,” Lee said with a sneer. “We can show all the other yakuza syndicates that it’s only a matter of time before we control Japan.”

  Saehyun took a deep breath. “I know, I know. We can show them all.”

  “Good. Now get your act together and stop being a fuckup.”

  An electric charge flooded the streets of historic Kyoto each day as the twenty-meter Hoko floats rose from their collection of wood planks. Today was the final day of construction, and excitement surged through Nao. His shoes clopped against the stone street as he imagined all those who had walked on them before him—ancient samurai, merchants, peasants. One day he would fade into nothingness, but he knew the stones—along with all the traditions in Kyoto—would continue unending.

  He pulled his arms into the sleeves of his yukata, a more festive one with a white bamboo pattern against navy. His hand touched his phone, but he decided against checking to see if Saehyun had messaged him. Nao’s pace slowed with the thought of him.

  Nao could have knocked him out when the tofu shop was destroyed, then turned him in to the Matsukawa. Nao bit his lip. They had known each other less than three months, making Saehyun’s words of love impossible to believe. Yes, Saehyun had been there when he broke down after Kuma’s disappearance, and it wasn’t like anyone else he’d called had even bothered to respond. But there was no way Nao could love him—not yet at least.

  A cop at the street corner stopped him and held up some photos. “Sir, have you seen these men?”

  Nao glanced at both photos. One was the same picture of Saehyun that had been pushed in front of him at the police station. The other was a blurred street-camera photo of a group of people dressed in the same tacky clothing Saehyun wore. The police had to be desperate if they were standing at the corner holding signs.

  Nao raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen any of these men.”

  “Thanks for your time, sir. If you see them, please tell one of the police. Don’t approach; they’re dangerous.”

  “Certainly.”

  Nao continued down the street, but the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Someone was staring at him; he could feel it. He turned, searching the faces of those around him, but no one stood out. Nao swallowed the uneasy feeling that it was probably just the police officer glaring at him. If the metal worker knew who he was, the police probably did too.

  He ignored them and continued toward the Naginata float. Its halberd sword pillar rose above the buildings and made for easy spotting. If only Saehyun were so easy to spot in the gathered crowd. Nao needed to find the most garishly dressed man, sure, but being able to get past the crowd was another story. He needed to find Saehyun before the police did. Nao pulled his phone out of his sleeve, but he froze once the crowd parted for the Naginata float.

  The float grew more stunning every year. The sword pillar flowed down to golden ornaments with a tuft of sakaki branches at each side. The float had a sloped and gilded tile roof, and the carp perched at its highest point seemed to swim in the gold. Silk tapestries adorned the float’s sides.

  Nao’s favorite part wasn’t the colorful dragons around the sides but the celestial paintings on the underside of the ceiling, with dragons in the east and a phoenix in the west. He couldn’t see it today, but in the days leading up to the parade, he’d be able to go inside and relive his chigo experience. Nao passed a group of construction workers. Their blue-and-white yukatas were worn especially for the first pull.

  He spotted Saehyun hiding behind a surgical mask. He would look like all the other people with summer hay fever if he wasn’t wearing a ridiculous outfit and stood out like bagged tea in the tea shop. At least Nao could be thankful Saehyun’s hair wasn’t pink. Nao crossed the street with the rush of everyone getting in line to pull the float. Saehyun reached out and pulled Nao close against the rush of the crowd. He snaked his arms securely around Nao.

  “You’ll be washed away if I don’t hold onto you.” Saehyun winked.

  Pressed against Saehyun’s chest, Nao forgot about the crowd for a second, enjoying the warmth that Saehyun radiated. Then the noise bombarded his ear, and he realized just how close they were, in public no less. The police dotted the streets, keeping up crowd control. Nao’s gaze darted between them all. Even if what was between them hadn’t developed into love, with all ties with the underworld severed, Saehyun was the only family Nao had, and he wanted to protect him.

  “Saehyun, we have to go.”

  “Go? But I thought we were going to pull the first float?”

  Nao grabbed Saehyun’s arm to draw him away, but Saehyun used his full weight to stand up straight like a cedar tree.

  “You were excited to pull the float.”

  “There’s a policeman with the photo of you and your other stupid gang members. They’re asking people if they’ve seen you.”

  Saehyun laughed. “I don’t think we have to worry.”

  “It was less than a block away.”

  “Some blurry photo from some street camera.”

  “I was able to recognize it.”

  “That’s because you know me.” Saehyun pulled Nao into an embrace. Nao wanted to struggle free, despite everyone around them showing such affection, yet he couldn’t. “It’s nice to know how much you care about me. They even stopped me and asked if I’d seen myself. They don’t recognize me with the mask on.”

  “You’re not lying to me, are you?”

  “We promised we wouldn’t. I’m not going back on it.”

  Nao swallowed back any apprehension. He had tried to get everything out before at the tofu shop, but then the gun shot killed it. Was it really so important to say his father was the leader of the Matsukawa? Saehyun had heard the cop utter the name Murata, and if he hadn’t brought it up yet, it must not be important to him. Nao returned his attention to the float—besides, in his father’s eyes, Nao was no longer his son.

  “This is my favorite float, you know,” Nao said. “I was the chigo on it when I was little.”

  “Chigo? Use simpler Japanese.”

  Nao put his hand on Saehyun’s shoulder. “The chigo is a child chosen to take the form of the god watching the parade. It’s a huge honor. I cut the cord, letting the parade begin.”

  “You probably had to wear a crazy outfit.”

  “Not crazy. It was a traditional garment fit for a god on earth.”

  The construction workers held fans up and gave a shout.

  “Look. They’re letting us pull the float. Quick, grab the rope.”

  All the stress instantly left Nao as he scrambled for the rope amongst the crowd. It was the only time average people were allowed to do so. Nao laughed, looking back at the float and up at Saehyun, wishing he could see his face, though Nao could hear his laughter.

  “This thing takes a lot of people to pull it. How do they get it around corners?”

  “They push it on bamboo.”

  Saehyun laughed.

  “It’s not like they can add steering wheels and engines to them.”

  “What’s the next event for the Gion festival?”

  “Yoiyama. It’s a three-day street festival at night. Food, tons of people. Some of the floats, you can go into.”

  “We can go together. I�
�ll make sure to get the day off.”

  They stepped back, allowing others to take their turn at giving the float a pull. Saehyun’s fingers caressed Nao’s palm. The touch warmed his palm then spread throughout. How could he make him feel so calm with such a simple touch?

  “Nao,” Saehyun started. “You never answered me that day.”

  “What day?”

  “When I told you I loved you? Do you feel the same way?”

  Nao bit his lip. The Double Moon were destroying the city, one historic building at a time. Even thinking about taking the underground power away from the Matsukawa was dishonoring Kyoto and left Nao feeling something much different than love. What was love anyway? The last person he loved had died in front of him. Nao had wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. How could Nao love anyone after the bloodshed he’d caused?

  “Saehyun, I think in Korean, they might not have the separate meanings like we do in Japanese. The ‘love’ you used was something they only use in TV dramas. No one says it in real life—”

  “I know what I was saying when I said I loved you.”

  Nao looked away, his cheeks growing hot. “Look, I like you Saehyun, but I’m not going to say anything I’m not ready for.”

  “And I don’t want you to,” Saehyun whispered into Nao’s ear. “But I know you’ll say it one day.”

  Nao’s breath caught in his throat, and he focused on the float. Why was Saehyun pushing him? If only he knew his family abandoned him. Sure he could get the zetsuen revoked if he found and killed the real second-in-command Saehyun, but Nao only cared about his Saehyun.

  The crowd cheered as the float pulled past. A strange prickly sensation traveled up Nao’s neck as if someone was watching him. He looked behind, but none of the faces were fixed on him.