Kazoku Page 2

  “What’s wrong, big boy? Getting tubby in your old age?” His fist found the man’s stomach. “Shameful. And you think you can pick on people in this kind of shape.”

  “Hey, round is a shape!” one of the Harada men yelled. Ren howled in laughter. They were enjoying themselves. What Ren said about it being nothing personal to him was true, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it. Ren needed no excuse to fight. Being a Toyotomi was just a real good excuse because the boss would praise it, regardless of why it happened. With no father of his own, Ren did love getting praised by the boss.

  We all did. He was, for all of us, the only father we’d ever known.

  The guy that burst into Kazumi’s bar grabbed Toshiki and threw him into the fight. A fist connected with his face and sent him flying to the ground. Everyone hollered.

  “Hey Tosh, congrats! Your first hit!” They pulled him back to his feet and slapped him on the cheek. “Now, time to give back!” They pushed him into the gang of men and Toshiki barrelled into a tall, skinny guy. He looked up at the man and raised his trembling fists. The man grabbed him by the lapels and headbutted him; once, twice, and then threw him into a smaller, stockier guy. He punched Toshiki in the gut, doubling him over, and then sent him flying into the wall. I grimaced, but the other guys all laughed.

  “Oooh, that’s gonna hurt tomorrow.” It was all just a game, at the end of the day. One big game. We were the pawns, the first to get sacrificed, but hey, at least we had fun while doing it.

  I grabbed the tall guy and watched the fear settle in as he realised he was no longer the biggest guy around. I connected with a headbutt of my own and he crumpled like a sack of rocks. Two more guys jumped me, sending us tumbling to the ground on top of him. He screamed in pain, and fists and feet came at me from all directions. My lip split and blood trickled into my eye from somewhere. It might not have even been my own. I grabbed a foot before it connected with my face and yanked, pulling the man to the ground. I elbowed him in the face and he went out cold. I grabbed his friend, stood up, and tossed him headfirst into the wall. He also dropped like a sack and stopped moving.

  Ren was still playing with the big guy, and the other two Harada men were taking care of the final Toyotomi goon. Toshiki pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the wall, his legs shaking.

  “You okay?”

  He looked up at me and nodded furiously, forcing a smile. “P-Peachy.”

  A garbage can lid collided with my head and dropped me to a knee. Pain exploded throughout the back of my head and the familiar warmth of blood trickled down. I turned. Everyone looked at me, frozen. The two Harada boys stepped back and the other guy held his hands up, shaking his head.

  “No, no, it wasn’t me! It wasn’t! I didn’t mean—”

  I smashed him over the head with the lid and he crumpled. I dropped it on him with a clang and grabbed the back of my head again.

  “Ow, that’s not pretty,” the shorter guy said.

  “Yeah, that’s gonna need some stitches,” his friend agreed. I wiped the blood on my pants and turned to Ren. He was enjoying himself, although his toy didn’t seem to agree. Cuts trickled blood all over his face, his eye was swelling shut, and dark bruises were already rising all over his face. I walked over to the man and stood at full height above him. He was average height, but rotund and more than a little chubby. The type of guy that got around because of his weight, not because of his skills.

  “Quit picking on kids,” I said. “And selling women. And stay the hell outta here. This is our area, got it?”

  Ren grinned and lined up a shot. One quick jab to the temple and the man went out like a light, crumpling with a loud thud as his full weight hit the road unimpeded.

  “Well!” Ren clapped his hands together. “I think a point was made.” He slapped me on the shoulder and then jumped as the phone in his pocket started to ring. “Geez, scared the crap outta me.” For a guy that loved ghost stories, he jumped at the slightest unexpected noise. “Shit, it’s the boss… Yes sir, what is it?”

  He stepped aside and the other two helped Toshiki over. He didn’t get a hit in, but he tried. That was the first step.

  “Of course, sir. We’ll be right in.”

  Ren hung up and turned to us.

  “Boss wants us in right away. Says he wants to talk to us about something.”

  Talk to us about something? That didn’t sound good. That didn’t sound good at all.

  03

  Harada Toshiaki loomed large. The only person bigger than him was myself. Unlike most clean-shaven yakuza bosses, Harada wore a neatly trimmed moustache that made him look like he was ripped from an old detective movie, and the deep lines carved into his face completed the look. He was a big man with a booming voice. When he spoke, people listened.

  “Ren, good, you’re here.” He addressed Ren, his favourite lieutenant, and gave the rest of us a cursory glance as we entered his office. Samurai swords and rare pieces of art decorated the walls. He liked to consider himself a man of culture, after all.

  “What is it, boss?” Ren stopped before his desk and clasped his hands behind his back, his feet set shoulder-width apart. Business stance. It also hid the blood staining his sleeve from our earlier foray with the Toyotomi men in the street. Toshiki, myself, and the other two men whose names escaped me stood behind him.

  The boss rifled through some papers on his desk before pulling one out. He pushed it towards Ren and Ren stepped forward to see it better. “What’s this?”

  “A building.”

  “…I can see that, sir, but what do you—”

  “A woman lives there. I need you to get her out. Whatever it takes.”

  Ren’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not sure I’m following.”

  “Of course you’re not. You’re a moron.” Harada pointed to the paper again, tapping it a few times for emphasis. “Let me explain it so nobody in the room has any doubt. Nobody.” He looked over Ren’s shoulder at the rest of us. Toshiki furiously nodded his head. “This piece of crap is a five-story apartment building on the west side of Rakucho. It’s worthless. The land it sits on, however, isn’t.” The other pieces of paper on the desk featured layouts for various buildings, parks, and other entertainment establishments that did not yet exist. “You following me now?”

  Ren nodded his head. “Yes, sir.”

  “I need her out. Everybody else in the building took the money and left, but this bitch is being stubborn. She’s the only person left in the entire building. You get it?”

  She was the only thing keeping Harada from his land and new developments. I got it. Harada pulled a folder out of his desk and dropped it in front of Ren.

  “Single mother, one child. A boy of five, as far as we can tell.”

  My jaw clenched of its own accord.

  “Mother works at a grocery store a few towns over. Boy starts school next year, so goes to a nearby kindergarten while mummy dearest works.” Harada interlaced his fingers and rested his hand on them. “Our attempts at buying the woman out have been unsuccessful. Despite her poverty, she won’t take the money. Even with everyone around her leaving, she outright refuses.”

  “…Do you want us to, you know, rough her up?” Ren’s voice was unsure where exactly this was going, and the idea clearly repulsed him. A small boy was involved. Nobody liked dealing with cases that involved children, no matter how indirect. Most of us came from single or no parent families ourselves.

  Harada placed his hands on the desk, his fingers still interlaced. “I want you to do whatever it takes, but—and this is the important bit—you mustn’t kill her.”

  Beads of sweat poured down Toshiki’s face as he listened. The office was air-conditioned, but this was the first time he’d been asked by the boss directly—or indirectly—to do something for him. Something, apparently, very important. He nodded furiously as Harada spoke to Ren, as though he was the one being addressed. Those nerves were going to cause us trouble if he didn’t get h
imself under control.

  “No killing, gotcha.”

  “This part is very important, Ren.” The word dripped with malice. Ren hung his head and nodded. A year earlier, Harada had asked Ren to deal with a store owner who was skimping on his protection money. In the heat of the moment, Ren let his anger get the better of him and killed the man. No owner meant no protection money. No protection money meant the boss wasn’t a happy man. He disciplined Ren for his actions, but he also never let him forget it.

  “Yeah, sure. You need her alive. Gotcha.”

  Harada narrowed his eyes and turned to me. “Yotchan.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Keep an eye on him for me, would you?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  He turned to Toshiki and gave him the once over. “Who are you, again?”

  “T-Toshiki, sir.”

  “Toshiki. How long have you been here?”

  “T-Three months and four days, sir.”

  Harada burst out laughing. Toshiki gave a half-smile, half-grimace, not sure how he was supposed to react to that.

  “I like you. Well, Toshiki, this extends to you as well. I see your hands shaking and your legs trembling.” Embarrassment flushed over his face, but to his credit, he said nothing. “You’re new to our organisation, I get it. I was new once too. It’s not like any of us are born into this. But here’s the thing.” Harada got up from his desk and passed by Ren, putting his arm around Toshiki’s shoulder. Toshiki shot a nervous glance at me as Harada started walking him around the room. “We are serious businessmen. Sometimes we gotta get a little rough to get our point across, sure, but the only difference between us and them is that we’re clear and open about that.”

  Toshiki nodded, sweat dripping from his head to the carpet below.

  “Now this woman is the only thing standing between us and a development that’s very close to my heart, you see. But if she’s dead, then her property gets tangled up in all sorts of legal bullshit that, quite frankly, we don’t want to deal with. You get me?”

  “Y-Yes sir, of course, sir.”

  Harada slapped him on the cheek a few times and smiled. “See, you’re not as stupid as you look.” He picked up a sword from the display case next to them, removing it from its sheath. “This beauty right here is a Sonsho. A master swordsmith who predated the Warring States period. They said his swords were so sharp that they could cut a single strand of hair in two.” He placed it suddenly by Toshiki’s throat and the man froze. “They said that Sonsho created swords that grew thirsty for blood. The more they killed, the more they wanted. Their bloodlust grew so uncontrollable that, in the end, they consumed their very owners.”

  As quickly as he’d removed it, Harada sheathed the sword and placed it back on its display. “There’s a lesson to be learnt here. Do you know what it is?”

  Toshiki shook his head, sending more sweat flying. Harada patted him on the shoulder and returned to his desk, this time looking Ren directly in the eyes. “That’s okay, I didn’t expect you would. It means that violence is not always the answer. Sometimes a more delicate touch is needed because, while it may seem easier to cut someone down at the time, that doesn’t always get us where we want to be. Where we need to be. That type of unadulterated, uncontrolled violence only leads to one place. Isn’t that right, Ren?”

  His point was made.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Now, go and get that woman out of her apartment. Make sure she signs the papers before she goes. None of this matters unless she signs the papers, got it?”

  He handed Ren a folder and then looked at each of us in turn.

  “I’m trusting you not to fuck this up.”

  04

  A message from Kazumi awaited me when the boss was done.

  Bar’s closed.

  That was all I needed to know.

  “A-Are we heading over there now?” Toshiki asked Ren as he closed the door behind him. Ren rubbed the deep scar in his cheek as he pondered something. 10 p.m. Early times for us, late times for anyone else. But since when did the yakuza play by anybody else’s schedule?

  “No time like the present, or something like that,” he replied. He pulled his phone out to check something and then turned to me. “Might as well get it over with now, yeah?”

  No, not right now. I had other places to be.

  “You guys head over now, I’ll be there shortly. I have something I need to take care of first.”

  Ren raised an eyebrow. “You got better places to be, Pretty Boy?”

  Pretty boy. He always called me that when he was taking the piss. He knew I hated it. “The Tiger” when he wanted to toot his own horn and intimidate someone, and “Pretty Boy” when he again wanted to toot his own horn and mock me.

  “I got something to do,” I repeated.

  “That doesn’t involve us?”

  “If you wanna join me while I take a giant shit, then…”

  Ren screwed up his face and turned to the side. “Oh, ew, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

  “I don’t have a mother.”

  “Clearly.”

  Point made, Ren shoved Toshiki towards the door, the other two men silently following behind. I recognised their faces, but not their names. They’d been around a little longer than Toshiki, but that was all I knew.

  “And don’t do anything stupid until I get there!” I called out after them. Ren held a hand up and waved as he walked out the door. I turned in the other direction, towards the toilets, and then slipped out the back exit.

  Getting into Rakucho by car was near impossible if you wanted to go anywhere but the outskirts. The streets were narrow and busy, and walking proved to be faster than driving. Thankfully, Serenity was on the outskirts, and parking was no problem.

  “You closed early tonight,” I said, closing the door behind me. Kazumi sat in one of the booths by the corner, a glass of wine in hand. Expensive wine, no doubt. The stuff Ren liked to call poison because his tastes ran much cheaper.

  “After the little ruckus you guys made earlier, let’s just say customer numbers dropped for the night.”

  “Sorry…”

  She put the glass down and stood up. “Don’t be. Sometimes a little break can do the soul a world of good, don’t you think?” She placed a hand on mine and looked up.

  “I guess.”

  She slid her hands up around my neck and pulled me closer. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  Her lips found mine, and she sank into my embrace. A moment later she broke away, looked up into my eyes, her eyelids heavy, and then pushed me towards the staffroom door. One of the bottles on the bar fell as I brushed past it.

  “I’m sor—”

  She pressed a finger to my lips and shushed me. Fumbling with the handle behind me, she shoved me in and then closed the door, her grin growing.

  “How much did you miss me again?”

  I smiled.

  I lit a cigarette as Kazumi lay her head on my chest. Her staffroom wasn’t very large, but it was spacious enough and well decorated. Expensive paintings decorated the walls and the couch beneath us felt like silk. A lone computer sat on her desk, and behind it bookshelves lined the wall, full of files, folders, and old looking books.

  “Why do you work here?” I asked.

  “Hmm?” Her finger traced circles on my chest.

  “You’re a smart woman. You could be doing anything. Why do you run a snack bar in Rakucho?”

  She smiled against me. “Because I like it.”

  Because she liked it. Fair enough.

  “I have a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  She looked up at me. “Have you ever considered settling down?”

  I blew some smoke out and turned my eyes back to the paintings on the wall. Famous ukiyoe paintings of old, but impossible to tell whether they were the real thing or modern reprints. Knowing Kazumi, they were undoubtedly the real thing. She kept the
m back here where nobody would see them because she liked them, not because she wanted to show off her wealth.

  “I don’t think that’s for me,” I replied after a pause. She sat up.

  “Why not?”

  A good question. A better question would be, “Why do you think I should?” Instead, I shrugged. “Look at me. My line of work. Do you really think a person like me should start a family?”

  Kazumi stood up and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from her bottom drawer. I didn’t need to be an expert to see how expensive it was. She poured herself a glass and admired one of the prints on the wall. Farmers went about their work in the fields, a snow-capped mountain rising high in the distance.

  “Who said anything about a family?” This time I raised an eyebrow. She downed the rest of the glass and poured another, this time offering it to me. “What is a family to you, Yotchan?”

  The way she said my name caused my stomach to flip-flop. She was the only person who had ever managed that.

  “What do you mean? A family is a family. Parents and children, I guess.”

  She laughed, grabbing another glass from her private cabinet and sitting next to me. “For you of all people, that’s a pretty narrow-minded view.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Why do you ask?” The words sounded awkward as they tumbled out, the only thing I trusted myself to say.

  She shrugged, sat back, and took another drink. “No reason. Just wondering.”

  Family? The Harada clan were the only family I ever knew. What was family? My brothers in arms. The men who stuck by my side, day in, day out. The brothers who shed blood for me, and I for them. Our father who took me in off the streets when I was just a kid and raised me personally to become the man that sat on that expensive chair talking to that beautiful woman at that very moment. What was family? They were. The men I would give my life for to defend, and the men who would do the same for me.

  “What’s family to you?”