“Shoko!”
Shindo.
She thought she heard her say her name.
Spinning around, she saw Shoko in front of a bank, on the verge of tears. A stranger had her by the wrist. He wore a suit tailored from sheeny fabric and was grinning through the cigarette between his lips. Average height and average build, but like all the people who had ever picked a fight with Shindo, every inch of him exuded violence.
“Shoko!”
He didn’t know what hit him. Shindo charged, winding up, and drove her fist between his eyes. Between her knuckles, she felt the odd sensation of a nose bone being crushed.
Shoko screeched. The man staggered backward, spitting blood and broken teeth. He was down. Doors opened on a silver Benz. Out came a group of well-built guys. Yakuza. Fuck. Not again. Shindo braced herself.
“Stop . . . no!”
Shoko ran up and grabbed her arm.
Shindo had never seen a face so pale.
“QUITE THE MESS you’ve made. You hear me, Yoriko?”
Breathing through the incense, Shindo stared down at the trim of the tatami.
They were in Naiki’s study—Shindo, Yanagi, and Naiki, with Shoko seated quietly beside him, and a white shirt standing guard in every corner.
“Please forgive me!” Yanagi cried.
His voice was guttural. He sat off to the side, in seiza, on his heels, bowing with both hands pressed to the floor.
“I should’ve warned her . . . how can we ever make this up to Utagawa . . .”
The man whose nose and two front teeth Shindo had busted on the sidewalk was none other than Shoko’s future husband, the head of Toyoshima Enterprises and a blood brother to Genzo Naiki—Tsuyoshi Utagawa. By sheer coincidence, he had spotted Shoko in the café, then dragged her outside asking what she was doing there. By now he had been trucked off to their preferred hospital, where they were doing everything they could to put his face together again.
“Blame it on a lack of supervision. This stinky twat, not knowing who he was, ran up and slugged him in the face. Fucking ape. How can we make this right? The man is boiling mad. I can relate. Yanagi, I’m afraid it’s gonna take more than a finger or two to console him.”
Beads of sweat slipped from Yanagi’s temples and tapped on the tatami. Judging from the horror stories he told Shindo about Utagawa, he surely knew what to expect. Seeing him like this made Shindo feel like it was all her fault. Yanagi had done nothing wrong. Nothing—but that wouldn’t stop the pervert boss from raping him to death. Because of her.
“Who might you say’s to blame here, then, Yanagi?”
Naiki spoke slowly. Toying with him, like a cat flipping a mouse over with its forepaw.
“I suppose—I suppose, I . . . I . . .”
Yanagi’s hands shifted on the floor.
“It’s my fault,” shouted Shindo, cutting him off. “He didn’t do a thing. I’m the one who punched the guy.”
Yanagi gave her a look of warning—Whoa! Cool it—but Shindo broke decorum and sat back with her legs crossed.
“Have you heard of a joint liability?” Naiki asked. “Yanagi’s the one who scooped you up. When a cat or dog makes a mess, you take it up with whoever owns them. So you’ll excuse me while the two of us sort this thing out . . . Well, then, what’s it gonna be, Yanagi? Would you rather plead to Utagawa for forgiveness on your own, or shall I join you, after all we’ve been through?”
Yanagi was quiet, sweat dripping from his brow.
She could hear footsteps plodding down the hall, where a white shirt’s pleading voice stopped short.
“Pardon me for barging in here unannounced.”
The fusuma slid open and a man stepped in, stinking of ointment and obnoxious cologne. His face was wrapped in several yards of bandages, just enough space for him to see and breathe. His pupils were dilated from the drugs, legal or otherwise. He came dancing into Naiki’s study, sallying about, like a man riding on air.
“Whoa, Utagawa! My old friend! Feeling okay? Let you out early, huh.”
Roaring like a fool, Naiki took to his feet to offer him a proper greeting. Utagawa’s eyes found Shindo through the opening in the gauze.
“Nah, those nurses were so ugly that I had to make a run for it. Besides, I was concerned about my dear fiancée.”
Since Utagawa was missing his front teeth, his speech was hard to parse, though he was plenty smug. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit and looked around the room.
“Utagawa, we’re truly sorry for what happened. I’m ready to do anything to make it up to you. Goes without saying, but the two of them are yours to use however you see fit. No need to go easy on them, understand? If you need a space to use, or any gear, just say the word.”
The bandaged man turned to Yanagi, as if just realizing that he was there.
“Brother! Look at you. It’s been too long. You doing alright?”
“. . . Quite well, thank you.”
“Don’t bullshit me. Not after we spent years eating the same dog food behind bars. But here we are. Looks like I’m gonna have to do you in.”
Heeh! Heeh! Heeh!
