The Yakuza Path: Blood Stained Tea Page 17

  Saehyun swallowed. He had never told anyone that. “Actually, remember, I told you my father killed himself?”

  “Yeah.” Nao sighed as Saehyun interlaced their fingers.

  “My mother took it hard. She believed they were destined to be together. So she eased her pain by drinking.”

  “Saehyun, you don’t have to tell me.”

  “We promised we wouldn’t lie. If I don’t tell you the whole truth, then it’s like I’m lying to you.”

  Nao leaned forward, pulling Saehyun into a kiss, sweet and sincere. Saehyun wanted nothing more than to hold that kiss and let the rest of his life slip away. Yet he couldn’t erase his past and could only try to be a better person—for Nao.

  Saehyun pulled away. He pushed Nao’s hair behind his ear, and Saehyun’s gaze caught the scar. Nao still wasn’t ready to tell him what had happened. By telling Nao about his family, Saehyun was one step closer to becoming the kind of person Nao would share all his secrets with in his own time.

  “Her drinking got so bad she lost her job,” Saehyun continued. “She stayed in the house for months. I had to drop out and get two jobs so we wouldn’t get evicted. When drinking didn’t kill her pain, she turned to drugs.”

  Nao’s eyes watered at the mention of drugs. Saehyun pulled him close, and Nao pressed his face against Saehyun’s chest.

  “Any money I left around the house she would use on drugs. One day I came home, and the needle was still in her arm. I tried to wake her, but she had overdosed.”

  “Saehyun…”

  “My parents were a disgrace. No relatives wanted to see me, let alone take in a seventeen-year-old. I had to fend for myself in a country where I could barely understand anyone. Nao, you were the first Japanese to show me genuine kindness.”

  Wetness dampened Saehyun’s chest, and Nao began to shake.

  “Nao, it’s all right. I never touched the stuff. It’s disgusting, I know.”

  He tried to pull Nao away, to kiss the tears, but Nao only pressed his face deeper into Saehyun’s chest. The minutes passed in silence, and all Saehyun could do was pour all his feelings into the embrace. The silent shaking turned into sharp inhales of breath. Saehyun held tighter as the minutes passed in silence.

  Saehyun recognized it wasn’t his story that had brought Nao to such a state. Not even he cried over his own sad fate. It was the drugs. Something about them tipped Nao over the edge. Maybe there was something about the nameless host Nao refused to talk about? Saehyun couldn’t ask.

  The inhales became less frequent, and slowly, Nao’s shaking stopped. It still took a few minutes before Nao pulled back, his eyes red.

  “You okay?” Saehyun whispered.

  “I can’t stand drugs. Anyone that can’t face the world around them is a weakling.”

  “I never used them.”

  “Good.” Nao rubbed his eyes. “Can you start heating the water? I want to make some tea.”

  Saehyun had starting making tea for Nao when he was depressed when Kuma ran off. Well, Saehyun still couldn’t actually make the tea, but Nao allowed him to set the water temperature. Still, Saehyun took it as the first milestone of their two-month relationship.

  It hadn’t been hard to sneak off and spend time building their relationship. Because of Lee’s stupid drugs, the Double Moon had enough people to allow Saehyun to come visit Nao whenever he wanted. They had four wards under their control with seven more to control in a little over a month, and Saehyun was confident it could be done. He could forget all about that, though, in the little world of Nao’s apartment.

  Saehyun kissed Nao’s forehead. “Weren’t you complaining it was hot?”

  “Tea cools you down in the heat.”

  “Whatever you want, I’ll do.”

  “Right now, I just want tea.”

  Saehyun smiled and disappeared into the kitchen. The motions of filling the water boiler and setting the temperature were second nature to Saehyun after seeing Nao do it so much. He reached into the cabinet to bring down the teacups, but a cardboard box blocked them. Pulling it down, he peered inside. There were the broken tea bowls from Hiro’s cleanup.

  Saehyun had forgotten about them. He wished he’d told Hiro not to touch them. Why couldn’t he think through things more? He could have remembered Kuma as well and saved Nao some heartache over the cat. Though in a sadistic way, it did bring Nao closer to him. Hell, he’d even let Saehyun top. It had to be Nao’s way of showing trust.

  “Do you want me to throw away these bowls?” Saehyun asked.

  “I’m taking them to the metalworker in a few days,” Nao said from the other room.

  “What can a metalworker do? They’re pottery.”

  “They fill the cracks with gold. The fact the bowls were broken will become part of their history.”

  Saehyun grinned. “Another Japanese saying?”

  “Those bowls are over a hundred years old. There’s no point in trashing them just because they are broken.”

  Steam rose from the boiler. Saehyun wanted the life Nao had carved out for himself. Yet Saehyun knew he couldn’t be a part of it, not yet at least. Perhaps after the Double Moon took over Kyoto and got established, he could leave. They were falling so easily, and most of the troops were not needing his guidance anymore. Lee could easily find a replacement by then, and with Kyoto in Korean hands, Saehyun’s debt would be paid to Taejin.

  “Nao,” Saehyun said as he pulled down a pair of teacups, “what’s Gion anyway?”

  “You lived in Kyoto how long, and you don’t even know the name of the historic district?”

  “No, the festival. What exactly is it? Do you know?”

  Nao laughed. “Of course I know what Gion is. I am a child of the festival, after all.”

  “What?”

  Saehyun imagined Nao rolling his eyes. Yet Saehyun remained in the kitchen, keeping his distance. The questions weren’t for pleasure, and he wanted to keep Nao as far away from his work as he could. He had to destroy the Matsukawa before he could be with Nao.

  “It’s the monthlong celebration in July. The big thing is the floats on the seventeenth and twenty-fourth.”

  Saehyun shook his head. Nao was a walking brochure. “Floats?”

  “The Hoko and Yama floats. They’re made from wood. People pull them,” Nao called from the other room.

  Saehyun said nothing.

  “You have no idea, do you?”

  “It’s a Japanese thing—”

  “It’s a Kyoto thing, and you live here. It’s a tradition from the year 500. If anything, you should care about it because I do. The Gion Festival means a lot to me.”

  Saehyun smiled. “Okay, then, show me. Make me see what you see.”

  Nao laughed. “I’ll be your special tour guide.”

  “What’s the last event? The last day of Gion?” The words sent a chill through Saehyun. He said them as easily as Lee.

  “The cleansing at the Yasaka Shrine. Everyone passes through the wreath to purify their spirit.”

  Saehyun closed his eyes. So the wreath at the Yasaka Shrine was all he needed to get through. After that, their territory would be established, and he could spend time with Nao without Lee complaining about him not being on the job enough.

  The water boiler clicked over from boiling to cooling. The water was still too hot for oolong. Saehyun was learning a lot, but a part of him hoped he wouldn’t turn into a total tea snob like Nao. Maybe one day he could convince Nao to serve beer at the teahouse. Saehyun walked back to the bedroom.

  “What’s your favo—” Saehyun stopped midsentence, watching as Nao looked through the phone he’d left on the nightstand. “Wish you knew Korean, huh? Like I said, you’re the only Japanese person I talk to.”

  “Sorry, I…” Nao trailed off, letting go of Saehyun’s phone.

  Saehy
un sat on the bed, taking Nao’s hand. “What? You can tell me.”

  “You always get calls and say they’re from work. What loan company has those business hours? What company expects you to be there at a moment’s notice?”

  Nao had every right to ask those questions, but it was not the time Saehyun could answer. He could never answer them truthfully. The promise was for personal stuff anyway. He had to lie about work. Nao needed to be kept as far away from Saehyun’s work as possible.

  “If you’re worried I’m seeing someone else, I’m not.”

  Nao took his hand away from Saehyun. “You’re still keeping so much from me.”

  “Me keep things from you? You’re the one hiding a tattoo covering your back. And a scar across—”

  “That’s different.” Nao turned his head. “You have tattoos as well.”

  “I told you, it’s a play on the Korean flag.”

  Nao shook his head, hair falling into his face. He was trembling again. There was so much Saehyun wanted to tell Nao but couldn’t.

  Saehyun ran his fingers down Nao’s back and over the unfinished flowers. “Please, don’t doubt the way I feel for you. Nao, we met three times in a day—”

  “We made a promise we wouldn’t lie to each other.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then why haven’t I gone to your home yet? We agreed that I could go before the break-in. You offered, remember? You pretend like it didn’t even happen.”

  A new shine gleamed in Nao’s eyes. Did it mean that much to him? Saehyun wrapped his arms around Nao.

  “I forgot. I think you did too.”

  “I want to see it. See where you live, where you work.”

  Saehyun laughed. “My roommates are messy.”

  “I mean it this time. I need to see these things if we’re going to continue.”

  “Can I get a week to clean up the place?”

  “I’m not going to forget again.”

  In a week’s time, Saehyun could arrange something. Hell, if it came to throwing a random family out of their apartment and making Hiro and Minwoo pretend to be his roommates, he would do it to keep Nao close.

  The white porcelain captured the vibrant green from the kukicha tea, making each color glisten. Kukicha was a common tea throughout Japan, but the type Nao served filled him with pride. While other varieties allowed for twigs, the kind he served contained only the stems of the tea leaf. The process allowed for a crisper taste and a scent that invigorated Nao each time someone ordered it. He pulled out the basket infuser from inside the teapot and put it in the sink. He brought a napkin to the end of the spout, catching a fallen drop, before placing the pot on a tray and heading to the back room.

  Each of his movements were precise, a meditation before the storm. After the night’s closing, Saehyun was coming by to keep his promise to take Nao to his home. If it was as Nao suspected, he could take the location back to Father. That was the only way he could prove to everyone in the family he was still on their side. The way they had become, it wouldn’t take much to convince Saehyun to stay with him until the Gion festivals were over so he would be safe.

  Opening the door to the back, Nao made a quick scan of the four tables for upturned lids and plates that needed clearing. Cigarette smoke flooded the air, and the ashtrays had been filled since the last time Nao checked on them. At each of the four tables, a mahjong game was being played, and everyone there was a family member dressed in an expensive suit. None of the bigger names came in anymore, and Nao didn’t recognize any of the faces here.

  After padding his way over to the far table, he poured tea into each of the glasses and replaced the empty pot with a full one from his tray. Even if his family no longer wanted him, they still wanted his tearoom.

  “Do you see what they’re doing to me?” one of the players said.

  “Don’t speak to him. He doesn’t need any of your bad luck.”

  Nao looked at the hand, and indeed the player was dead. The tiles he needed were already discarded and unable to be reclaimed.

  “Mahjong is a game not meant to be measured in a single round.” Nao smiled.

  “Not if you’re already down over thirty thousand.”

  Bang!

  The back door flung open and slammed against the wall.

  Ten police in full regalia swarmed in, batons at the ready. Nao jumped, dropping the cast-iron teapot on the table. The walls of stacked tiles fell and mixed with the kukicha spilling from the overturned spout.

  “Nobody move!”

  The same commotion echoed from the other side of the wall. A familiar sensation washed over Nao. The first year he’d opened, the police had raided twice. They’d found nothing, but Nao was so well-known, his sudden retirement from the yakuza was questioned by the police.

  “Hands in the air!” the order was repeated.

  “Where’s Nao Murata?” the lead cop asked. His nose was flat and his hat too tight for his head.

  Nao held his hand higher. “Here.”

  The cop stood in front of Nao, all while Nao’s gaze was fixed on the dripping tea coming off the table. Such a waste.

  “We got a tip there was some illegal gambling happening, and it seems like we were right.”

  “People can play mahjong without gambling.”

  Nao knew they played for money. What was the point if they didn’t? Yet after the first raid, they had learned to memorize the amounts. Nao was thankful that Oyama was too busy to come in today. He always flashed money on the table. Nao watched as the police lined everyone up, the head cop keeping an eye on Nao the whole time.

  “There’s been an influx of gang activity in the area,” the cop continued. “We have to take every measure seriously.”

  Nao waited as they searched the rest of the men. The leader walked between the mahjong room and the front. Eventually, he deemed the front clear and allowed those customers to go about their day. Nao, however, was told to stay put, leaving the cook and waiter to check out the customers. All the while, Nao tapped his foot. He wanted the visit from the police to end soon. Saehyun was coming in three hours, and he had to find out where Saehyun lived.

  Nao continued to watch each of the members get searched. There was silence except for the usual questions. The police asked the mahjong players what they did for a living, why they were there, if they were gambling. Nao moved to clean up the spilled tea, but the head cop yelled at him not to move.

  “This one has a gun!” the cop yelled.

  Nao sighed, knowing what that would mean. If no one had a gun, only he would be sent in for questioning and then released once no money was found. It would take perhaps an hour or two. If there was a gun, that would mean everyone was going in. Guns were illegal in Japan, after all. In the past, such interrogations would last throughout the night.

  “Damn it,” Nao said under his breath.

  “Bring them all in for questioning.”

  “Officer, I’m a tea shop owner. These guys have nothing to do with me. They’re customers.”

  “Shut up! We’ve got a lot of questions to ask you, Murata.”

  Nao peered through the window at the family members waiting for questioning. Usually he would be among them, but the police escorted him to a back room. A metal table bolted to the ground took up the majority of the space. If the police were going to make things hard for him, he was going to make their job just as burdensome. He asked for his attorney and then refused to speak.

  Nao tapped his wooden clogs against the concrete floor. An hour had passed since he’d called Sakai, only to get his wife on the phone. After that, the police took his phone. All he knew was that his plan of meeting Saehyun after work was shot. He would have to see Saehyun’s home tomorrow. Another day out of his family’s favor.

  More foot shaking. How long was he going to have to wait? There was no doubt Sakai
would come, but the other family members were being shuffled through the questioning process while he waited. His clog slipped with a loud thud against the concrete floor. He slipped the shoe back on as the door opened.

  Sakai entered, dressed in a navy suit with a crimson tie. The inverted arrows of the Matsukawa crest pin shone against the lapel. He smiled, but once he met Nao’s gaze, the wrinkles in Sakai’s forehead bulged.

  “Murata…” he said between clenched teeth.

  Nao looked off to the side. When Sakai’s wife answered, Nao had given her only his last name, knowing “Murata” would have Sakai jump into action, while “Nao” would be forgotten like water passing under a bridge. Sakai sat beside Nao, who cringed at the anger radiating off the older man.

  The police detective followed Sakai inside with a stack of files pressed against his plastic ID badge. His short hair was speckled gray, and his flat nose shone under the lights. He put the stack of papers down before sitting opposite Sakai and Nao.

  “Murata wouldn’t speak until you were here, so let’s get some of these questions answered,” the detective said.

  “Murata is a simple tea merchant and has done nothing conflicting with any of the law.”

  “There were people with guns in his shop.”

  “He cannot be held responsible for the actions of people in his shop.”

  The detective pointed to the stack of folders. “His teahouse is a known gambling spot. The police have raided it many times.”

  “Did you see any signs of gambling there?” Again Sakai spoke for Nao. “Can we get to the point? There was no evidence of gambling, and the person with a gun has nothing to do with Murata. I’m sure he wants to get home. Gion is nearly here, and I’m sure you have enough activities going on. We’ve worked with you many times; get to the point.”

  The detective opened a folder. Nao straightened in his seat to get a better view, but the cop slid the photo to him. “Do you know this man?”

  Nao pulled the picture closer. It was Saehyun, a younger picture of him, probably from high school.