His giggle had the tang of a convulsion.
“Even so, you’re an old friend. You took the edge off being in the slammer. Don’t want you suffering unnecessarily. How’s an injection sound, Yanagi? Just like drifting off to sleep. Nice and easy. But no, no, for a warrior like you, that would be shameful. So maybe we could shove you in a cage, like with a tiger, have you fight him to the death. And if you take the tiger down, you’ll get away scot-free. Now that’s a fight I’d like to watch! I bet you’d hold your own, too. One strong motherfucker over here!”
Heeh! Heeh! Heeh!
He was excited, twitching as he waltzed around the room. Then he remembered he had cigarettes and lit one with aplomb. Taking a long, decadent rip.
“What’s bugging me . . . is what to do about the lady over here. That big old body is giving me some very big ideas. She’s nothing like the girls you see around Japan these days, skinny as a chicken carcass, am I right? You look like a sturdy woman. Won’t break after the first go-around. Do you like dogs? Love them myself, have several at the house. I hope you do, because I’m going to mix their shit and piss together to make a little ink, which I’ll use to tattoo my name onto your face. Those self-important lips and nose are a bit much, though, so we’ll lop those off. And to make sure you don’t fall asleep, we’ll cut away your eyelids while we’re at it, huh? Ah, which reminds me, I have an extra special treatment for the hand you punched me with. Thinking I’ll prune it back, a half-inch at a time, starting from the fingertips. Making sure, of course, that we don’t bleed you dry. Can’t have you dying right away, oh no. Thank goodness for the miracles of modern medicine. You could have several years ahead of you, as we whittle away at you, piece by piece—”
“Stop!” Shoko screamed. Sniffling through tears, she crawled over to Utagawa and pressed her forehead to the floor by his feet.
“Stop! Please stop. I’ll do anything you ask. Just please don’t do those awful things. Please. Please, I’m begging you . . .”
Looking down into her eyes, Utagawa leaned toward Shoko, who was crying so hard that her shoulders churned the air.
“Gosh, you’re sweet. Isn’t my fiancée the most darling thing there is? But Shoko, let me remind you that you’ve already promised to do anything I ask of you. That’s the arrangement. Because we’re getting married. Hate to disappoint you, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.”
“No, no, really. I mean anything. I’ll nurse you back to health. I’ll wait on you, hand and foot. I’ll . . .”
“Whew, this sure is tough. Naiki, my brother, any thoughts? What with Shoko pestering like this, I’m not sure how much more I can resist.”
Taking a cue from Utagawa’s cruel delivery, Naiki scratched his chin for dramatic effect.
“Shoko, don’t be fresh. Give it a rest. You’re making a fool of yourself. This man is going to be your husband . . . in fact, Utagawa. Why wait? Take her away tomorrow. She’ll live with you. And take care of your every need. Least we can do. We want to make sure things are good between us, understand. So take her, please, on behalf of the whole Naiki family. She’ll take good care of you. This is the future she’s been dreaming of.”
“I don’t care if she’s my fiancée, it’s not right for a man to bring a lady into his home out of wedlock. We’ve discussed this, Shoko, haven’t we, my dear? How we’ll consummate our union on our wedding night.”
Bending his lips into a sleazy grin, Utagawa took Shoko in his arm and pet her shoulder. Between his legs, a shameless erection tented the fabric of his suit pants.
“Don’t worry . . . I’ll be gentle. It’s a promise. For the whole month leading up to our first night together, I’m not going to cum even once. Saving all my love for you. So I can fill you to the brim . . .”
Pupils the size of fish eggs, Utagawa stared into her face, like he could gobble her up any second. Shoko’s eyes, so drained of blood the word “pale” fails to capture their transparency, trembled with fear and desperation.
Instinctively, Shindo leaned forward, just enough. Knowing it was wrong, she fed the urge to punch this man again. Punch him so viciously it ended everything. If her fate was to be raped to death, she may as well cut loose and end things here and now.
Just then, the fusuma rolled open.
“Uh, Mr. Naiki?”
A young male voice cracked in the shadows.
“Fuck’s sake, I told you guys to stay out!”
Naiki was furious. The head that poked into the room was not, however, a member of the junior staff, but a young guy with glasses, one of the college kids from the private investigation company.
“What is it? Can’t you see we’re busy?”
The kid went stiff, realizing he had stepped into a serious discussion. He crouched down on all fours and crawled over to Naiki, where he whispered something in his ear.
“No way.”
Naiki’s jowls went flush as his gargoyle face turned into a smile.
“Well now, Yanagi!”
“Y—yes, boss?”
“You’re one lucky son of a bitch!”
Beaming so wide that his eyes were almost swallowed by the creases in his face, Naiki laughed and turned to Shoko.
“Cheer up, Shoko. Found your mom.”
Shoko and Yanagi gasped.
“Would you believe that scumbag is still living with her too?”
Shindo caught herself staring back at Shoko.
“Who the fuck they think they are? Hiding down the road, while I blow a fortune searching for them up and down Japan . . . Fucking weasels. Look who’s laughing now.”
Naiki went over to Yanagi, whose head was bowed to the tatami, and cuffed him on the shoulder.
“Hey, Yanagi, far as I recall, you looked up to Masa a great deal. Is it true he taught you how to use that little sword of yours?”
“Y—yes . . . that is, a couple of times, he gave me pointers . . .”
“Can you beat him? I know we used to call him the Musashi of the Dagger, but that was years and years ago. By now he’s an old man. But you, Yanagi, you’re a gangster in your prime. Sure you can beat that sack of shit.”
