Just as Nishi’s eyes were rolling back into his head, she let him go. His feet slipped in the piss, and he tipped back and banged his head, lights out.
Shindo sighed. She went over to the sink and washed her hands. Then she went over to the cupboard for another of the big bowls and dished herself a fresh helping of curry rice.
SHINDO’S ONLY TIME off the entire day was between dropping Shoko off at college and picking her up after class. Enough time to scarf down a big meal and take a nap inside the car. No way in hell was she spending it back at the compound. The yakuza had built themselves a world of bullshit, based on those in power keeping those below them on their knees. They loved acting high and mighty, with their honor and their chivalry, but it was all a front. The compound was a swamp, foggy with rules and subordination. No semblance of the stark clash of forces Shindo took for granted as a child in the country. This was power of the cheapest kind imaginable, narrowly defined as a tool for persuasion.
Ever since Nishi pissed himself, he hadn’t messed with her or called her names, regardless of who else was around. He had, however, found new ways to make her feel more like an outsider, or an unwanted guest, than anybody she had ever met. The fact that Shindo wasn’t living at the compound of her own accord made the rejection even worse.
The only place where she felt safe was in the kennel. Set behind the bigger buildings, it was a sturdy structure with a decent roof, more of a cabin than a doghouse. Inside, it was divided into five enclosures, each about seven-foot square, for the Doberman and a few German Shepherds. The cages were locked, and Nishi had the keys, but she could check in on the dogs through the bars.
The Doberman’s name was Shelly. Shindo started spending every spare minute she had before or after driving Shoko somewhere at the kennel, watching her back to make sure Nishi and the other men didn’t spot her. At first the dogs were skittish, but seeing Shindo’s face most every day, they grew accustomed to her presence and came to understand her as another of the people living there, no need to bark.
Crouching in front of the cage, Shindo found Shelly lying on a blanket spread over the concrete floor. Seemed like they fed her pretty well. She was in good shape. Still young. Almost a puppy.
Before Three, who got buried in the avalanche with Grampa, there was Two, who was at the house before Shindo was born. For such a big dog, she lived a pretty long life. Her face was a bit unusual for a dog. She was always smiling. When Shindo mentioned this to Grampa, he scolded her and told her that “dogs don’t know how to smile.” Could this be true? Why wouldn’t a dog smile? If they can feel happy, or angry, or sad, why shouldn’t they be able to smile too? Her grampa knew everything. She trusted what he said. But this was something she had never been able to accept.
“Shelly . . .”
Shindo called the dog’s name in a low voice. Shelly’s ears perked up. The dog stared back at her, cocking her head, full of curiosity, like the puppy that she was. Shindo could detect a sense of apprehension, as if Shelly was unsure if it was okay to play nice. As much as Shindo found this disappointing, she surprised herself by smiling back.
“You really like dogs, huh?”
She spun around. Yanagi was behind her. Dressed in black, as usual, like he was on his way home from another funeral, a rich smell of tobacco clinging to his shadow. Coming closer to the cage, he made a friendly clucking sound between his tongue and teeth. Shelly tucked her tail between her legs like she was scared and slunk off into a corner.
“Damn,” he said. “She hates my guts now. All your fault.”
“I knew you couldn’t bring yourself to kill a dog.”
“Just try to escape. You’ll see. Might not be me, but somebody will kill the dog. In this line of work, a threat is never taken back. We’ll make sure you learn your lesson.”
“Not if I kill you first.”
“You’re impossible. Know that? Pretty strong, though, for a woman. If I’d had a piece on me your first day here, I would’ve shot you dead. Piss off a yakuza, he’s liable to plug you one.”
Yanagi snorted. The sound made Shelly flick her ears.
“Anyway, how’s the job treating you? You and the princess getting along?”
“She’s kind of a pain to lug around, but quiet for a college girl. Makes things easy.”
Yanagi whistled through his teeth, exercising self-control.
“Never, ever talk like that around the other guys. Okay?”
“But it’s okay to talk like that with you?”
“Consider this a grace period. Don’t push your luck.”
Yanagi looked toward the other dogs.
“Look, all you have to do for the time being is take care of Miss Shoko. That is, unless we find ourselves needing an extra set of hands.”
“There’s plenty of hands around. How come they need all these men anyhow?”
Shindo knew that the bulk of the yakuza worked out of regional offices and not at the boss’s private residence. This was definitely Naiki’s house. The white shirts were like young monks. A select few. His disciples.
“Have you seen the guys who come by in those beater trucks?” Yanagi asked.
Shindo nodded. Once or twice a week, the nerdy guys showed up in their white minitrucks and spent the better part of the day shut up in Naiki’s study at the main house, deep in conversation.
“Pops hired them with his own money. Private eyes. They’re tracking down his woman. And her lover.”
Shindo caught herself looking Yanagi in the eye.
“That’s right,” he said. “Shoko’s mom. She ran off with one of Pops’s favorite men. Masa the Dagger, fucking bastard. He’s been on their tail for over ten years now. If you ask me, though, the two of them have either left the country or they’ve killed themselves. Still, Pops won’t quit.”
“Ten years . . .” Shindo said aloud.
“Shoko was still in grade school. I was here. Feels like yesterday. One rainy night, we’re sitting around the table when we hear what sounds like Madam Naiki scream. So we rush into the room and find Pops alone, on the floor, covered in blood. Slashed by a dagger. Masa, he says. It was Masa. Pops had trusted him with everything, which only served to amplify his hatred by a hundred. One extreme to the other. I mean, if I was Masa, on the run, and I knew they were onto me, I’d take my own life like a man. No telling what kind of nasty torture they have planned. Can’t even imagine.”
Shindo swore that she could smell the severed hand among the dog smells of the kennel.
“He’s got a problem, trying to make Shoko look exactly like his wife. It’s not right. That’s why he’s so fanatical about keeping away pests. That guy who got his hand chopped off? What got him that was giving her his hand, right, like a gentleman, to help her out of the car. Don’t think for a second being a woman means you can relax. I wouldn’t lay a finger on her. You’ll wind up doing jump rope with your large intestines.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
Yanagi lit a Peace and blew a lavish cloud of smoke.
“Honestly, I’m sick of this shit. No matter how many hours I put in, all the money gets blown on the PIs, or on Shoko’s cultural enrichment courses. I wish Madam Naiki could’ve taken that poor girl along with her. For her own sake. Honestly. I’ve had it up to here with keeping these punks fed. How long you really think this family can last? It’s grim.”
