The Yakuza Path: Blood Stained Tea Read online

  Minwoo nodded, putting the camera down.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Cho said.

  “I was going to let him fix it.”

  “You’re stupider than you look! He wants to be let go so he can escape. We’re going to get him to do the video and hand it over once the others get back. That way, we won’t have to scrub toilets forever.”

  “Are you sure? They said not to do anything.”

  “Well, they can suck it. I’m sick of cleaning up after them.” Cho grabbed Nao’s hair and held on to his scalp. The Korean reeked of cleaning fluid. “Here, little yakuza son, you’re going to say what we wrote so your father surrenders the city to us.”

  Nao laughed. “Threatening to kill me is not going to make him do shit.”

  “Say what’s on the fucking note.” He pulled Nao’s hair tighter. “Get recording!”

  “So you want me to say it with the screwed-up character too?”

  The snarky comment got Nao another punch in the gut, but he was able to slip his hand out of the restraint and cause enough of a distraction for the move to go unnoticed.

  “You know what it says.”

  “Father, these people want you to surrender the city or else they will kill me. You have until the rope is cut by the chigo at the float parade.”

  “See, that wasn’t too hard.”

  He let go of Nao’s hair but landed another punch to his face. Those were becoming more irritating.

  “He doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

  “Shut his mouth again.”

  Cho turned, and Nao saw his opportunity. He extended his leg, tripping the Korean and making him fall on his side. Using all of his force, Nao planted his foot on Cho’s crotch. The other man’s pain excited the part of himself that Nao had tried to push into the darkness. He no longer bothered to hide his satisfaction as a wide smile stretched across Nao’s face. He needed the devil side of himself to survive in the underworld.

  The blond stepped forward, and Nao punched him in the stomach. The man doubled over, and Nao elbowed him in the neck. Nao landed on top of Cho. He needed to get to the blade. He needed to escape. Pushing past the drugs, Nao grabbed the sword.

  The Koreans screamed, but Nao knew he had to kill them. It was his only way to escape. They scrambled to the door, comically tripping over each other. He raised the sword above his head and slashed the blade across their backs. Their blood splattered, staining his yukata red, and he didn’t stop his attack until they no longer made a sound. A satisfied laugh passed his lips.

  He needed to go back to the Matsukawa, but he couldn’t return empty-handed. He grabbed the camera, turned the video on, and strung it around his neck. Staring at the drug pile, Nao saw that night—Shinya drugged up all night and barely lucid into the hours of the morning, unable to protect himself, unable to realize what was going on. Nao could do nothing for him. And Saehyun had allowed the Double Moon to push the same drugs onto the streets of Kyoto. To let other people be abused in the same way.

  Nao threw the few bricks left on the table onto the floor. He slashed the blade down into the stomachs of the Koreans and pulled out their intestines. Blood and bile mixed with the drugs. Nao made sure every last ounce would be unsellable. He would not allow them to dirty Kyoto anymore.

  Nao staggered through the streets of Kyoto. Blood caked on his skin and stained his yukata an iron brown, fully visible as the sun broke through the darkness. A few people called out to him, but his steps did not cease until he arrived at the Matsukawa family house.

  Staring at the two inverted arrows of the Matsukawa crest, he understood the meaning behind them more than ever. The arrows were not pointing to each other but to the a same point. Everything the Matsukawa stood for, everything the Matsukawa protected, was for Kyoto.

  Nao pushed the intercom button. Even at sunrise, one of the underlings would be up preparing breakfast.

  “Nao?” The underling’s voice cracked. “Are you alone?”

  “What?” Nao was in no mood for such obvious questions. “Let me in. Please, I know the zetsuen, but I have something the family needs.”

  A few minutes passed before the gate buzzed open. Nao made his way through the familiar steps of the stone path, but the door didn’t open as he approached. When he knocked, it only opened a few centimeters.

  “Were you followed?” asked the voice behind the door.

  “They would be dead.”

  The door opened, and sure enough a first-year recruit dressed in the jumpsuit bowed. He looked up from his bow, and his mouth dropped open.

  “Are you all right?” the underling asked. “We got the photos a few hours ago.”

  Nao stepped inside. All the lights were on, which was strange even for a parade date. “What photos?”

  “The ones of you and the ransom notice.”

  “Is Father in? You can tell everyone else I made it out, but I need to speak with him.”

  “He’s talking to Oyama right now.”

  “They’re discussing the parade?”

  “That and what to do about you.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Nao smiled. “That discussion ended a minute after they got the note. I’m not worth saving.”

  Nao needed to show Father and Oyama the camera. Then they would hopefully excuse the zetsuen and accept him, and he could show his face around the Matsukawa house again. He hadn’t killed the second-in-command Saehyun, but he hoped the Double Moon safe house location and layout was enough to make them want to rip up every postcard they sent out.

  He stepped toward the stairway.

  “Wait, you can’t go up like that. I’ll prepare a bath for you and tell them you’re safe.”

  “They need to see this.”

  Nao pushed past the underling and walked up the stairs. Halfway up, he could hear the voices of Oyama and his father. Nao had what they needed to destroy the Double Moon. Nao fell to his knees, a bit too easily, and the lack of sleep squeezed his eyes. He opened the sliding door.

  “I’m sorry for interrupting.” Nao’s forehead touched the floor with his bow.

  “Nao?”

  Father’s eyes widened, and Nao’s lungs pressed against his ribs, making them ache. He’d finally done something useful for his family. They had to take him back after what he’d found out. He couldn’t go back to Saehyun; he was part of the cancer eating away at Kyoto.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to bring any sweets. I know I shouldn’t be here with the zetsuen, but—”

  Father pulled Nao up from his bow. “Are you okay?”

  He should’ve brought something for Father. He always brought something. Why would today be any different? Maybe after he showed the video, he could leave and come back.

  “Here’s my proof.” Nao pulled the camera over his head and handed it to Father.

  “Proof of what?”

  “That we’re on the same side.”

  “Same side?” Oyama raised an eyebrow. “Nao, whose blood is that?”

  “It’s the blood of our enemy.”

  “The Koreans?”

  “They took me during the Kannon and gloated about how they killed Takeo the last time they tried to get me.” Nao turned to his father. “They thought taking me would make you surrender Kyoto.”

  His father wrapped his arms around Nao and pulled him into a tight embrace. A wave of relief flooded him. The zetsuen was revoked. Nao had returned to his father’s favor. He belonged to his family again.

  “What’s on this?” Oyama asked.

  “It’s the layout of their safe house as well as the location. Last I heard, we weren’t sure where they were located.”

  “Go get washed up and get some rest.” Murata released his embrace but kept a hand on Nao’s shoulder. “You should stay inside until we are in full control of Kyoto again. They tried t
o kidnap you twice now.”

  “Let me help out with the Gion Festival. I can help you.” Nao’s words spilled freely.

  “It would be best if you stayed here. We’ll clean out your old room.”

  “I can lead a group. We can attack them now and keep the element of surprise. I tampered with their back door so it’s even easier to get in.”

  “More than half our men are setting up the floats. They’re planning something with them like the other national treasures.” Murata squeezed Nao’s shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about this fight. The Double Moon will want revenge on you more than anyone else. It’s best you stay inside.”

  “Why can’t I help?”

  Oyama held up the camera. “You’ve done more than anyone has been able to accomplish. Relax and watch the parade on TV.”

  Nao scratched his neck, blood flakes falling to the floor. He’d never watched the festival on TV; he had always been there in person. To suggest he should sit back and watch the parade from a safe distance? To suggest he not help out to protect the city? It was different than when Nao suggested that he stay home with Saehyun. The city needed protection. It needed every person to cut away at the drug cancer and the Koreans eating away at it.

  “Go take a shower. We have people to take care of everything,” Oyama said. “You look like you’ve had a long night.”

  Father Murata gestured to Oyama. “Tell someone to start a bath and clear out Nao’s old room. There’s got to be a yukata somewhere in this house.”

  Oyama bowed and left while the Matsukawa godfather leaned against his desk, and all Nao could do was watch. He wanted to say so much more, but his eyes were fogged.

  “Please, I want to help.”

  “I am glad you managed to escape, because if you hadn’t, we—”

  “You would not save me, I know. Kyoto is too important to be exchanged for a simple life. That is why I want to help protect it.”

  “Go to sleep. You can’t protect Kyoto when you can’t keep both eyes open.”

  “Father, the Koreans are planning something during the parade. I heard them talk about it. If I can’t go, you shouldn’t either.”

  “I have to show that the Matsukawa will not cower. We have to show the city we are still there for each person. I cannot show the Koreans they can terrorize me out of doing my duty to the city.” Murata squeezed Nao’s shoulder. “After the parade, we can discuss what would be most useful for you to do, but not until then.”

  In the end, he was obligated to listen to Father. Nao walked to the bathroom and slowly took off the stained yukata. His face was covered in blood, and his hands were a coppery red. Yet as he stared at his reflection, he could almost believe it wasn’t him. He had slipped back into the person he was before. The person he was four years ago. Feeling numbness inside, he no longer knew if he cared.

  Nao grabbed the shower head and let the water cleanse him. Pushing his hair out of his face, he caught sight of his unfinished flowers and the phoenix on his back.

  The streets were lined with people waiting for the float parade to start. They chattered in Japanese, but Saehyun didn’t bother focusing on their words. His thoughts were on Nao. There had been so much blood…

  Saehyun spotted the Matsukawa godfather seated in a chair on the other side of the street. “I can’t believe he actually showed up.”

  Lee glared at Saehyun. “It wasn’t two of their members disemboweled in their own supply room.”

  “Poor Minwoo. He was just a kid.”

  Saehyun could hardly believe Nao could kill then disembowel two men. Yet if he’d listened to the tattoo master and even Nao’s own words…Saehyun cursed himself. He should’ve realized sooner.

  “That Japanese was our trump card, and now he’s gone.”

  Saehyun shrugged. “We were going to shoot their leader at the exchange. Now we do the plan like I set it up and not the one Heejun put together. When does this parade start? I gotta go take a piss.”

  “You better find a bottle, then.”

  “What? I’ll be gone five minutes.”

  “Heejun says you were screwing him so it was easier to keep tabs on him. Who knows what really happened?”

  Saehyun narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s why you were able to snag him at Yoiyama.”

  “You might’ve let him go so you could keep getting your dick sucked.” Lee’s grin made Saehyun want to punch him in the face.

  “So I let him go and kill the guys that clean our dishes—”

  “You hated that we were selling drugs to finance our operations.”

  “Not enough to disembowel Minwoo. Even I know that once half of the recruits realize we can’t pay them, they’re fucking leaving. I’m taking a piss then making sure everyone is in position.”

  “And you should’ve heard how Godfather Taejin sounded when I told him we needed a new load but weren’t able to pay for it.” Lee grabbed Saehyun’s arm. “You don’t leave my sight. You can piss your pants for all I care.”

  “You don’t trust me? I didn’t let him go—”

  “Then carry out this mission like your life depends on it, because guess what? Both of ours do. Or were you so caught up in your lovefest you forgot? Right now, Godfather Taejin is ready to cut both of our balls off and use them as his desk ornaments.”

  Saehyun’s fingers curled into a fist. No way could he forget his whole reason for coming to Kyoto. He had to bring it under Korean control, and the only way was to kill his lover’s father.

  “You want to punch me now?” Lee pushed Saehyun, who stood like a mountain. “Go ahead and cause a scene. I’ll call the cops and make you take the fall for our passport mess. Taejin doesn’t care who’s blamed, as long as by the end of this month someone is.”

  Only with Nao’s connections with the yakuza could Saehyun escape Taejin’s wrath. The Korean mob wasn’t even worth leaving if he couldn’t have Nao by his side. The way he smiled when he talked about tea and the way his eyes lit up as he explained any Kyoto tradition. Nao managed to escape his life in the mob and could teach Saehyun how to do the same.

  Nao had to have made it out okay enough to get to the back door. The lock had been tampered with and the blood trail led all throughout the house. If Heejun hadn’t made his stupid plan, Nao wouldn’t have been involved in any of Saehyun’s mess.

  Saehyun unclenched his fist.

  “That’s what I thought.” Lee grinned.

  They waited as the creaking floats pulled up in front of them. It would’ve unfolded so differently with Nao beside him there instead of Lee. Nao would’ve lectured about the ping, ping, klack from the drums and cymbals the musicians played. Then he’d have explained the different tapestries draped over the wooden frames of the floats. Saehyun would’ve become distracted by the third float and would have made some joke about Nao’s pole compared to one of the floats’. Nao would get that cute wrinkle on his forehead. Then Saehyun would sneak a kiss to see Nao’s cheeks turn red from such an open display of affection, but Saehyun wouldn’t care. He wanted to flaunt their love for everyone to see.

  But it wasn’t going to happen. Nao was probably injured somewhere, and Saehyun was watching the floats with Lee.

  “So once the parade is over, Murata is going back to his van.” Lee’s words broke Saehyun out of his daydream.

  “After a block, we’re pulling in on all side streets. Then everyone is going to open fire,” Saehyun said as he double-checked the plans.

  “Too bad our trump card ran away. It would’ve made sure they stopped, but now we’ll have to force them.”

  A few more of the Yama floats passed, and Saehyun’s gaze dashed back to the yakuza leader and to his members around him. Slowly the ping, ping, klack changed from the peaceful sound of imperial court music from eons before to Saehyun’s beating heart in his ears.

  “That’s the las
t float now,” Saehyun said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Lee spouted orders into a cellphone as Saehyun followed behind him to the cars. Six were waiting for the yakuza boss, and Lee and Saehyun made eight total cars for the ambush. A few quick turns and a screech of the brakes, and then they had the Matsukawa leader surrounded.

  Saehyun’s phone buzzed with Lee’s text to open fire. Saehyun snatched his gun from the glove compartment and used the door as some protection against the yakuza. He shot into the Matsukawa van along with the twenty other Double Moon members surrounding them. Even if the van was bulletproof, there was only so much it could take before the armor was compromised.

  They all emptied their guns until nothing was left. The Japanese fired back, shouting orders above the shots, but those soon became silent.

  “Go, Saehyun. Make sure they’re all dead. You should be able to see the godfather’s family resemblance if his head isn’t blown to bits.” Lee laughed.

  An emptiness engulfed Saehyun. It was one thing to shoot at his boyfriend’s father, but to face his corpse was another. Each step he took to the yakuza van weighed down his muscles, and he needed to grope for the door to steady himself.

  Saehyun swallowed back his vomit. The iron taste of blood filled the air, and even though those inside the van were wearing bulletproof vests, their shirts and blazers were ripped open from the blast. Bullets had raged through their skulls, and their brains splattered the carpeted floor.

  “They’re dead.”

  “Cut out the godfather’s eyes,” a voice called. It sent a fire down Saehyun’s spine and made his toes sweat.

  The light might’ve silhouetted him, but Saehyun knew the chill of Godfather Taejin’s voice.

  Saehyun gulped. “His eyes?”

  “Would you rather we send the Matsukawa yours as a message? Don’t worry, I’d make sure they’d get delivered.”

  Saehyun reached into his pocket and flicked open the blade. He pulled back a body, Nao’s father. They had the same nose. Saehyun closed his eyes, and Taejin’s hand grasped his.