Chapter 7. One Sunday That Summer
It was a beautiful day. The unrelenting summer sun was shyly hiding behind the clouds, its rays felt comfortably warm this late Sunday morning. Now, if only Rikiya didn't feel like he was on his way to his execution, everything would be just perfect. Forcefully, he pushed away the nagging urge that told him to run for the hills. He followed his father and twin brother instead. Tao, Kirishima, and the family trusted lawyer, a geeky looking man by the name of Maita Osamu, were trailing closely behind him and his family.
A beautiful middle-age lady, gracefully clothed in an elegant kimono, bowed deeply in respect upon their arrival at the entrance of the five-stars restaurant. Her voice was soft and velvety as she greeted his father. "Welcome to our humble ryotei, Asami-sama."
The old and distinguished ryotei was anything but humble. The establishment was spacious, surrounded by a tranquil garden filled with bamboo, maple trees, and camellias. A stone path divided the stroll garden, allowing visitors to enjoy the carefully composed landscape from close proximity. The building itself was refined, standing even more dignified after two hundreds years of glorious history than when it was first opened. Twelve generations of talented chefs had worked here and the current chef in charge had won several awards for his extraordinary skill. It was no surprise that there was a long waiting list to dine in this prestigious ryotei and the fact that it only accepted new customers by referral had turned it into a dining place for no ordinary people.
But of course, Asami Ryuichi was no ordinary people.
His father merely gave the waiting lady a small nod, allowing her to lead the way to the VIP room booked specifically for this occasion. As they all walked across the elaborate hallways, Rikiya quietly observed the place, cataloguing the layout and listing fastest escape routes in case of emergency. It was one of the habits that Tao had managed to drill into him over the years; a valuable lesson that Rikiya would never forget.
The lady stopped in front of a sliding door that led into a classic Japanese style room. She fluidly kneeled before opening the door and bowed as they enter the room. Their guests had arrived much earlier and were waiting inside. Takamiya Kichiro, the president of the Takamiya Group, was sitting at one side of the low table. To his left was his beautiful daughter. To his right were his brother-in-law and son. Their family lawyer sat at the head of the table. Two of their best men sat on guard behind them, not too near to disturb the coming discussion but not too far in case they needed to defend their boss.
As he took his seat beside his father, Rikiya scrutinised Takamiya's right hand men. He had heard a lot about the two men and their skill.
Tanaka Haruo was a ruggedly handsome man in his early 30s with deep black eyes as cold as the grave. Those orbs reminded Rikiya of the shark eyes, blank and dead without any emotions, looking right through you as if you were a mere prey. It was the eyes of someone who had seen horrible and unspeakable things despite his young age. Tanaka was a notorious character in the underworld. He killed his enemies without mercy, just the way he fucked his women, which was quite often, if the rumours weren't exaggerated. Tanaka's reputation roused Rikiya's curiosity and he wondered whether he would have a chance to find out the truth behind a few of those rumours.
The other man, Jiro, was a small middle age man with a greasy smile. In a quick glance, the man looked harmless but Rikiya knew better. People often misjudged Jiro's skinny body and average look. They often underestimated Jiro's ability with knives. The moment they found out, it was too late. Jiro could decapitate half a dozen men from quite a distance in a few seconds. No one knew why he had no family name and no one dared to ask. However, despite his admiration of the man's extraordinary ability, Rikiya didn't like the man's ingratiating grin. His instinct told him that Jiro wasn't someone he would ever trust.
"I sincerely apologise for being late, Takamiya-san," his father greeted after taking a seat across their rival, snapping Rikiya's attention back to his incoming doom.
Rikiya knew it was simply fake politeness. They had actually arrived five minutes earlier than the time that had been agreed.
"Please, it is us who arrived too early, Asami-san," Takamiya replied with an equally pleasant tone as if they had been childhood friends.
Both fathers exchanged more pleasantries before Takamiya finally made a short introduction of his daughter, Takamiya Suzu. Apparently, she was five years older than Rikiya, attended a reputable all girl private college and, according to her proud father, was very talented in tea ceremony. She gave Rikiya a demure bow accompanied with a soft "It is nice to finally meet you, Asami-san."
Her appearance was the perfect picture of a Japanese woman. She wore a beautiful kimono that accentuated her pure black eyes and petite frame. Her raven hair flowed naturally like a waterfall down her back, making such a sharp contrast to her glowing, porcelain-like skin. She was surprisingly slender and seemingly fragile, as if she would break if someone did so much as to touch her, a complete opposite from the image of an ideal partner that Rikiya had in mind. Extremely beautiful, he had to admit; yet, he felt nothing towards the young heiress. No bellringing, no sparks, and definitely no passion other than the physical lust.
It felt stupid that he believed in true love. Most people would say that he was naïve; true love was something existed only in the fantasy world, just like unicorns and fairy godmother. Rikiya himself would have never believed it if he had never seen the living example in his father and dad's relationship. His parents were obviously made for each other. They were both very different yet they fit each other; the yin and yang that balanced Rikiya's world. The way his parents loved each other was just so adorable that he couldn't help but to smile (or roll his eyes, whichever was more appropriate given the situation) whenever he saw them together. That was the kind of relationship that he wanted in his future, something that he needed to give up now.
"She is quite stunning," he whispered to his twin brother while the leaders of two biggest groups in Japan were politely complimenting the soon-to-be young couple before getting down to business. Looking at the ugly Takamiya, it was a wonder how her daughter could be strikingly beautiful. Rikiya's best guess was that the girl looked more like her mother than her father. Or Takamiya's woman had cheated in her loneliness. Whichever was the reason, he could only thank the gods that, at least, he would marry a beautiful girl. He could always keep a mistress or two later, if he wanted.
"Liar. She is not even your type," Nao replied through gritted teeth. "You prefer light haired women."
His younger brother hated the idea of him marrying Takamiya Suzu. Nao had protested, yelled, and finally threatened that he would tell their dad if Rikiya went through with the plan. In the end, Tao'd had to intervene until his brother'd finally conceded. Rikiya knew he'd played dirty, using Nao's feelings towards Tao to make him agree. But Nao needed to see that this marriage could strengthen their position. For now.
"Hey, it doesn't mean I dislike other hair colors. I am not racist," he argued in low voice so that no one else could hear their playful banter. Nao just snorted as a response.
"Silence, boys!" Tao scolded in a low voice from where he was sitting behind the two of them and it immediately stopped their conversation. The last time they'd disobeyed Tao and continued making noise during a particularly boring business meeting, the older man'd dragged them to the dojo afterwards and handed their sorry ass to them. They'd learned their lesson the hard way that day: some fun just didn't worth the pain.
The discussion that followed, however, was unbearably boring that Rikiya quickly tuned out all conversation, giving half his attention only. Both parties were basically going through each point in the strategic partnership agreement, ensuring it met everyone's expectations. This was just formality. They had discussed all the terms and conditions for weeks now that Rikiya could recite every single word in his sleep. No one could blame him if he didn't bother to listen too closely.
Sion Group and Takamiya Group desire to agree upon an arrangement whereby Sion Group will share the Route, blah blah blah, yada yada yada.
Bored, he was killing time by silently making a bet against himself on whether this Takamiya girl was a virgin or not. It didn't matter for him, to be honest. He would enjoy her either way. But he didn't have anything better to occupy his mind. At least, not until the lawyer began discussing the most dreadful part of the agreement.
"The next section details everything about the marriage arrangement," Osamu-san, their family lawyer, started carefully, obviously trying his best to use as much human language as possible instead of those fancy legal jargons. "As stated here, the solemnisation ceremony would be held in no later than a year after this agreement has been signed by both parties. This agreement also includes pre-nuptial agreement as per requested by both parties."
Since the minimum age of marriage for male in Japan was 18 years old, it was actually impossible for Rikiya to get legally married in a year time, even with parental consent. But it was merely a marriage of convenience for the sake of their survival, a practical bond formed with ruthless business agreement as its foundation, so they didn't actually need to register the marriage. A horde of vicious lawyers from both sides had made damn sure that this business agreement was more binding than any kind of marriage certificate the government might ever produce.
Without a question, divorce wasn't an option for both Rikiya and his wife-to-be. Any kind of separation would mean breaking the agreement and jeopardising the entire organization. Japan underworld didn't have any empathy for those who didn't keep their words. No one would give their loyalty for someone who couldn't be trusted. The organization that his father had built for decades would be disassembled within days if Rikiya suddenly decided to back down. If he was ever hoping for an out, it would be when he or his future wife died, which was troublesome because then he could never trust Takamiya Suzu and his future in-laws not to send a hit man to end his life. Or perhaps, his beautiful wife would do the dirty job herself and poisoned his meal or simply strangled him in his sleep. Or he could kill her first.
What a great married life he would have.
Rikiya stared blankly at the wall behind the Takamiyas as the lawyers take their turn to read a long list of assets, properties, incomes and funds under each of their names that he and his future wife would never share even after one them died, preventing nasty battle courts against any family member claiming for inheritance in the future. It took nearly half an hour to finish the entire list before Osamu-san continued with an even longer list of rights and responsibilities that had been negotiated beforehand through the army of lawyers. The man deliberately paused after every clause to give time for both Rikiya and Suzu to nod their acknowledgement and consent. They both had read the final version of the agreement just yesterday, so again, this was all merely ceremonial.
The Husband and Wife will live separately from their family after the solemnisation ceremony. The Husband will provide the house and put it under The Wife's name as his gift to her. The Wife will choose the house, in a condition that the house had to be within 5 km from the Asami's residence. The Wife will be responsible for taking care of the house and she will be allowed to hire any help as she deemed fit. Both nodded their consent.
The Wife will get 50 million yen for every year of marriage, not included her shopping and daily expenses. Rikiya nodded.
The Wife dictates having at least two dinners together in a week, to which The Husband agrees under the condition that The Wife cooks for those dinners. Both nodded.
In the event when The Wife gets pregnant, The Husband will pay The Wife 5 millions yen for carrying each child. Rikiya nodded.
The Husband will spend time with The Wife at least 120 minutes a week, without anyone and anything else disturbing them. Rikiya nodded.
"This is beyond ridiculous, man," Nao whispered under his breath. "What's next? Are you guys going to put the number of sex you are going to have in a week as well?"
"Two," he whispered back without looking at his twin brother, keeping his gaze blank and his face stoic.
"Sorry?"
Nao was merely teasing, so of course his younger brother didn't get it. Rikiya cleared his throat quietly before adding in a low voice so that no once else but his brother could hear, "She demands sex at least two times a week. This requirement is included in one of the clause. A few clauses after this one, if I am not mistaken. You just wait."
"What. The. Fuck!" His twin turned to face him in outrage, yelling loudly without any care whether Tao would beat their asses after this or not. The lawyers abruptly stopped speaking and the entire room fell silent. Everyone's attention was now at the two of them but Nao simply ignored everyone else around them. Those hazel eyes that looked exactly like his stared at him in outward disbelief, obviously questioning his sanity for agreeing to do this. He could guess the dozens thoughts that flashed through his twin's mind, one of those would be about how mad their dad would be if he ever found out.
Luckily, their dad would never find out. No one outside those who were in this room would know the true nature of their marriage. Some would guess, perhaps. It was indeed too good to be true for the son and daughter of two biggest group leaders in Japan to coincidentally falling in love with each other, especially when both groups would benefit greatly from such an occasion. But they would stick to the story: the two of them had met during one of their fathers' business meetings, where they had fallen madly in love with each other.
Damn, they already had scripts prepared for every possible question. If someone were to ask Rikiya now how he had felt when he was meeting Suzu for the first time, he would be able to tell them a vivid account of how beautiful her smile was under the morning sunlight, how their fingers had touched accidentally when she'd passed him, and how it had deeply affected him. It would be the most happening love story this year. And that was what the world would know about their marriage.
"Asami-sama, I believe Nao-sama needs a break," Tao said calmly, bless the man. "If you allow, I will accompany him for a walk, Sir."
"Fuck! Like I fucking would-" But Nao had to swallow whatever he was going to say next because Tao was grabbing his wrist without a single word, squeezing it hard enough until the skin turned red and giving him a cold disapproval glare. If there was one thing that Nao was afraid of, it was for Tao to look down on him for any possible, and perhaps impossible, reason.
His father simply nodded. The older Asami's expression was unreadable. Rikiya always admired how his father could keep all emotions under control, showing nothing as if the crime lord had a granite mask for a face instead of one made of flesh. He hoped that he managed to hide his own emotions as good as his father did.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Tao half-dragged his brother out of the room. The air felt so heavy with tension, it was a surprise no one was suffocating. Yet. Rikiya was wondering whether they would need to apologise to the Takamiyas. But doing so would put them in a lower position and they couldn't afford it. Thankfully, Osamu-san remained calm throughout the entire ruckus. The man coughed softly to get everyone's attention and simply continued reading the damn agreement as if nothing had interrupted him.
It went on and on like it would never end and Rikiya almost shouted in relief when finally the lawyer read the last clause of this section.
The Husband has the right to keep lovers and/or mistresses as he deems fit. He agrees to keep the lovers and/or mistresses away from both The Wife and public. The Wife will never intervene with The Husband's affairs under any circumstances.
Rikiya had offered the same rights for Suzu through his lawyer. He wouldn't mind the girl to have a lover or two. But Suzu'd politely refused the offer right away. Apparently, her interest wasn't in love affair. She was more concerned about wealth, reputation and the eyes of elite society.
The lawyer was now waiting for Suzu's approval. And after almost a full minute of horrifying silence when everyone seemed to hold their breath in anticipation, to Rikiya's relief, she finally nodded her consent.
Mainichi Shimbun's headquarter in Sunday morning was as full of activities as any other day. The publishing industry knew no holiday. There was paper to be printed twice a day and someone needed to gather the news, write the articles, take the photos, fix the layout, and then send everything to the printing company. It was a never-ending cycle that would repeat itself come hell or high water.
I tread my way through boring corridors, greeting some fellow reporters that I knew of as I headed towards the criminal section that was located on the third floor. Since I'd stopped working as investigative photographer, I didn't come to this building that much often anymore. But once in a while, my former editors would ask me to work as freelance photographer for their cultural or lifestyle articles.
I would usually accept those rare freelance jobs, no matter how boring they were, simply because it would allow me to stop by at the criminal section without raising Asami's suspicion. Soga, the man who had been following me around for the past few years, was respectful enough not to follow me everywhere like his predecessors had done. He would mostly give me space whenever possible, especially when I was working, which I really appreciated. Trust me, it wasn't comfortable at all to meet your editor with a giant hovering behind you.
As usual, the criminal section area looked more like a war zone instead of an office. Photos, articles, and notes were pinned on the various maps that covered the majority of the side wall. Papers were scattered all over every available surface, even the floor. Overworked journalists and photographers were sleeping wherever they could, trying to get a few minutes of rest before fighting another battle.
I made a beeline for Mitarai's office. As the editor-in-chief for criminal section, the fucker had his own room, a real one that was separated from the commoner world by walls, windows, and door. Over the years, Mitarai had climbed the corporate ladder rather quickly. I didn't envy his success though. His career had cost him four marriages. His last wife didn't even bother to meet him face-to-face before asking for a divorce. It was kinda sad, in my opinion. But who was I to judge? My own relationship was also far from being normal by society's standard. Or any standard, really.
Mitarai was sitting behind his desk when I entered. He gave me an annoyed glance. "I miss the day when people have enough courtesy to knock before they enter."
"Shut up, Mitarai. I don't have much time today." I sank into the chair in front of him, resting my hands on top of my stomach and putting my feet up on his table close to the edge.
He simply stared at my shoes while asking dryly, "Boyfriend put you on tight leash again?"
I shrugged, realising long ago that taking offence at Mitarai for his careless word choice would do me no good. I hated when he mocked me as if I were Asami's wife or, worse, kept whore. But getting angry at Mitarai would just give him more ammo to tease me.
"Nah," I said instead, ignoring his obvious provocation. "Just have a lot of things to do." Which was true. I was going to meet Mizuki and Haruka later for lunch. Mizuki was invited to her friend's birthday party next weekend so we were going to shop for her new dress. Apparently, an 11-year-old girl's birthday party had a dress code nowadays. And dress code was The Great Gatsby. From where this birthday girl got the idea, I had no clue. I doubted she watched the film or read the novel.
"So, he isn't worried at all, huh?" Mitarai turned to look me in the eyes, a small taunting smirk hanging on his lips. "Your man must have balls of steel. But I don't expect anything less from the man who controls Japan."
I tensed slightly and he would notice it. But I kept smiling at him as if his words didn't affect me.
"If you are talking about the Takamiyas-"
Mitarai gave me an impatient snort, his right hand moving up quickly to stop me. "Takamiya Group is the least of his concern at the moment, I believe."
Indeed, Asami was extremely tensed lately, that much was obvious. But as usual, my husband didn't say anything about it. He had came home much later than usual almost every day for weeks, only to have a few hours of sleep before leaving the house in a hurry, Tao or Kirishima following closely behind him like a shadow. Once or twice, he wouldn't even come home for days. At least, he always called regularly now, having learnt his lesson from our huge fight during the twins' birthday party.
I hated the fact that I needed to go to someone else just to find out what was happening in Asami's life, but I didn't have much choice. If I were to ask Tao or Kirishima or Haruka, they would do everything to sidestep my questions. Getting any information from them was harder than tempting a priest to break his celibacy vow. Not that I had ever tempted any priest. But, it was just that impossible. Whatever Asami had done in order to shut their mouths, it worked like a charm. There were times when I wondered whether I would watch TV one day only to find out that my husband was dead, because it seemed to me no one around him would be bothered to tell me anything.
Mitarai didn't say anything else, though. Well, if he thought that I would beg for information, he was greatly mistaken. I simply raised my eyebrow and waited patiently for him to start talking. After a full minute of staring at each other, he finally sighed in defeat. Mitarai's biggest weakness was that he had never have enough patience and I exploited it to my advantage whenever possible.
"Hayashi Taro, the leader of Fukuda-gumi, was killed last night. A garbage man found his dead body just this morning," Mitarai said evenly. "Half his face and most of his torso and stomach are gone, sliced to pieces and then scattered around him before he was left to bleed to death. A slow and painful death. The police almost couldn't recognise him. They needed to run some test before confirming that the body was indeed Hayashi Taro. The strange thing is the Fukuda-gumi has been quiet."
I shifted quickly, removing my feet from Mitarai's table and leaning forward in interest now. Last time I heard about Hayashi Taro was during my class reunion, a few weeks ago, when some dumbass from Fukuda-gumi had beaten Kou to pulp. If it were not for Asami's help, my friends and I would surely spend at least a few days in jail. I still remembered the concern on the officer's face that night when he had told us that we had offended Fukuda-gumi. Fukuda-gumi was feared because they had strong connections with people inside the police force. So, to be able to kill their leader was truly something.
"Quiet? Their leader was obviously murdered. Surely, someone would ask for a revenge. Is it a coup d'etat? Is that why they are being quiet?"
Mitarai shook his head. "Nah. No one is claiming leadership up until now. My informant doesn't think it is a coup d'etat and so do I."
I rested my body against the back of my chair as I mulled over this new information. Something didn't make sense here. A murder of the leader of a yakuza syndicate as powerful as Fukuda-gumi would cause uproar. The papers would put it on their front page, at the very least. The TV would be full of experts discussing every angle of this murder. "If this is true, why there is nothing about this on the morning papers? If you don't tell me, I won't even know."
Without a word, Mitarai tilted his head, his black eyes clearly observing my reactions. Something about him today was making me uneasy, but I couldn't be sure what. He looked like he was expecting me to do something. Or say something. Like an adult who was watching his one-year-old baby learning to walk and expecting the child to fall at any moment.
"This is still a classified information, Takaba. My source asked me not to publish it. Not yet, at least. The Police wants to keep it low as they investigate. And since the Fukuda-gumi is quiet, keeping it low is not really a problem."
Suddenly, it all became clear. I straightened my back and clenched my jaw tight to stop myself from strangling him. "Are you testing me, Mitarai? Do you think that I somehow know? That Asami told me anything?" I growled at him, struggling hard to keep my temper in check, caution dripping from every word now.
This time, it was him who shrugged. He lifted his hands in an open-handed posture to show that he didn't mean to offend me. But I noticed that the tips of his ears was slightly pink, the only sign of his guilt of being caught in act. "I didn't do anything like that, Takaba. I was just sharing what I know with an old friend."
His half-hearted apology didn't calm me at all. My entire body was tense. I was on guard. My instinct told me that something was up. And it might affect Asami. Or my whole family. I forced myself to relax, to stop fisting my hands so hard till it felt painful. Being agitated wouldn't help. "And this murder relates to Asami, how?"
My friend shuffled some papers on his desk, purposely avoiding my eyes as he answered my question. "Well, it seems they found some links between Hayashi Taro and your boyfriend."
I wanted to scream at him that Asami had nothing to do with the murder. Yesterday, Asami was going to the opening party of his new club with me. The place had to have a few CCTV cameras to prove that we had stayed until morning. Even if Asami had asked someone else to do it, surely my control-freak husband wouldn't be so stupid as to kill someone and leave fucking breadcrumbs to connect the murder to him as if this was Hansel and Gretel story. My innate need to quickly defend my husband was overwhelming. But, defending Asami without knowing the entire situation might make things worse. So, I decided that it would be best not to say anything for now.
"Thanks for telling me. But I come here to ask about Miwa Sato, the high school teacher that I want you to investigate. Remember?"
Mitarai watched me for a long moment, his dark gaze pinned me to my chair. I was about to snap at him for staring at me like I had 'murderer' stamped on my forehead in big capital letters when he shook his head slowly. He pulled a folder from his drawer and passed it to me. I took it from him, taking the investigation report out of the envelope and quickly scanning it while Mitarai gave me a quick summary, his voice growing louder with every word.
"The woman is as clean as a whistle. No scandals. No love affairs. No criminal reports. Not even a speeding tickets. She has one ex-boyfriend, who is as boring as her, an accountant. Broke up because she moved to Tokyo for work. Couldn't withstand the long distance relationship. Her parents passed away years ago after living as boring life as hers. Natural death, of course. She has one younger sister who is still in college, who is clean as well. All schools where she worked previously commended her performance. Her previous students praised her approachable attitude. Her neighbours only said good things about her and her sister. And they were volunteers for an organisation taking care of kids with cancer. Seriously, if I could find any dirt on this woman's life, it would be on her kitchen counter, because there is NOTHING on her."
I stared at the report, which confirmed everything that Mitarai had told me. There was a sinking feeling in my guts. Apparently, Sato-sensei was a very good citizen, the kind of person who wasn't going to lie just to make another person looked bad, especially lying about two harmless teenagers. Unless, all this normalcy was just a cover to hide something else. Because, there wouldn't be smoke without fire, right?
I didn't want to draw Mitarai's suspicion, though. So, I just nodded. "Thanks, man. I am sorry for asking you to investigate for nothing. I owe you one."
He grumbled. "I'll hold you to that."
Making a show of checking my watch, I stood up. "Gotta go now. See you when I see you, I guess."
And with that, I left his office, hoping that I hadn't visited him because whatever he had told me today just made me feel even more anxious than ever.
Tao stood casually near the door, but deep down inside, he was fuming over this audacious behaviour. Up until last week, not even the Commissioner General would dare to barge into Asami-sama's office, moreover to question his boss about some bloody murder as if Asami-sama was a mere civilian that they could drag to the nearest police station anytime they wanted. The fact that this police inspector and his subordinate had dared to do that, claiming that they were under direct order from the 'higher ups', whoever these higher ups were, was an insult to Asami-sama's standing, in Tao's opinion. But Asami-sama had ordered everyone to behave and just do what they wanted for the time being, so he would.
The younger officer, a rather tall man in his mid thirties, openly gawked in awe at the spectacular panoramic view out of the floor to ceiling window. The Inspector, who was bigger than his younger co-worker, managed to hide his interest better, but it was still quite obvious that Asami-sama's office had impressed him greatly. Only a small handful of people had a high-floor office with Tokyo skyline as its backdrop and Asami-sama had spared no expense to decorate his office. The entire room was a blatant display of taste, power and wealth, establishing Asami-sama's superiority over everyone else.
"So, what can I do to help you, gentlemen?" Asami-sama asked his guests right after they had introduced themselves. Asami-sama's golden eyes were narrowed, hard and rigid. The usually smooth baritone voice was now cold. The crime lord didn't even bother to hide his annoyance for being disturbed at this time of the night.
The younger officer fidgeted nervously under Asami-sama intense gaze, an expected reaction from anyone. Inspector Yamashita, however, steeled himself and looked Asami-sama in the eyes, a considerable feat for a nobody like him. Perhaps, the man had a spine, after all.
"We want to ask a few question regarding Hayashi Taro, Asami-san," Inspector Yamashita replied, his voice only wavering a little at the end.
The disrespectful honorific shocked Tao. He stood a bit straighter, if that was even possible, his fists clenching so hard it was almost shaking. It took an incredible amount of strength to stomp down the rising fury and put a stoic face to hide the urge to shoot these two idiots.
Kirishima stood like a statue behind Asami-sama, clearly fighting to control his own anger. The secretary's face mirrored Tao's raged one. He could almost see steam coming out from Kirishima's red ears. But if Inspector Yamashita and his subordinate noticed, they didn't show it.
Instead, the Inspector continued without missing a beat, "Do you know that Hayashi Taro is dead, Asami-san?"
Asami-sama simply shrugged, "I might have heard."
"And how did you hear about it?"
The crime lord raised his eyebrow, his lips curled into a sneer as if asking whether everyone in the law enforcement was this stupid. News travelled fast in the underworld. If you wanted to stay in the business, you made it your job to know about everything that happened in the market.
The younger officer, however, didn't get the message because he cleared his throat and pushed like the idiot that he was. "Asami-san? Could you please answer the question?"
Asami-sama sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he would need to entertain these two clowns who clearly hallucinated being special agents in some Hollywood action movies. "Hayashi Taro is….was an old friend, Inspector. I had known him for decades and he treated me like his own blood brother. His son called me to inform about his father's death out of respect of our long friendship. He knew I would like to pay my last respect to him."
"A friend," the Inspector repeated like a parrot.
His boss smiled, an icy one that didn't reach those golden eyes. "Yes, Inspector, a friend."
"And his son informed you about his father's death himself. Out of respect of your friendship."
"I started to wonder whether I would hear any real question soon. I don't fancy listening to a repeat of my own statement."
The next words were said through gritted teeth. "I am sorry but it didn't seem to me that the two of you were friends."
"Then, you didn't do your homework properly, Inspector. Taro and I played golf together quite regularly. In fact, I knew his wife and son quite well."
It took a few heartbeats before the Inspector could control his anger enough to answer calmly. "So, his son's phone call wasn't to warn you, Asami-san?"
Asami-sama's surprised face was so perfect that not even an experienced actor who faked expression for a living would doubt his innocence. "Warn me? About what?"
The silent that followed was pregnant with tension. Tao could sense the disbelief thick in the air. But Asami-sama remained calm, tilting his head to indicate his confusion. Not too much, just barely, a movement that was almost unnoticeable. Moving too eager would exhibit anxiety, not something Asami-sama wished to advertise at the moment.
When the stillness was nearly unbearable, the Inspector exhaled loudly in defeat. "To warn you that we might come to ask questions, Asami-san."
Asami-sama merely stared at the two men in front of him, frowning slightly. "And why does he need to warn me about that?"
The Inspector shook his head slightly before changing his approach. "You called Hayashi Taro on July 14th. Do you remember it?"
Here it came, the only thin link that they had to connect Asami-sama with Hayashi Taro. The two powerful men didn't usually call each other without at least a few middlemen in between, being careful enough not to attract more attention than necessary. For decades, they had managed to keep their involvement with each other away from the public eyes. People didn't know that they were sort-of-allies and it was a huge advantage when they need to get a step ahead of their enemies. Unfortunately, Asami-sama had made a mistake by calling Hayashi Taro in the middle of the night three weeks ago. It looked like a trivial thing by that time, not so much now when someone in the government was working with an unknown enemy to bring Asami-sama down. The authorities seemed intent to find any excuse to drag his boss to jail. They would charge Asami-sama for jaywalking, if that could put the crime lord behind the bars. Tao held his breath in anticipation.
"I did," Asami-sama replied evenly. "Though I didn't realise it was that long already."
"Why did you call him, Asami-san?"
"Just to say hi," his boss answered calmly.
"At 2AM in morning?"
"A businessman has weird daily schedule."
"Commissioner General Matshushita also received a phone call from you around 4AM, the same day as your phone call to Hayashi Taro."
"So?"
"So, it has nothing to do with," the Inspector paused to glance at his notes, "a man called Asami Akihito? Your…adopted brother?" The last two words were uttered with complete disgust, as if the phrase was an acidic fluid that would burn his tongue.
Asami-sama waited a few seconds before answering, his tone now sharp with warning, "My adopted brother might have a few drinks too many that night. But he didn't do anything wrong. I just asked a favour from a friend to clear the misunderstanding. I am sure your own people can confirm that."
"I see," the Inspector watched Asami-sama like a vulture watching its prey to die. "You sure have a lot of powerful friends, Asami-san."
"I am fortunate enough to have them as friends," Asami-sama replied with a sad smile so sincere that could make the angels wept.
Tao couldn't really see the Inspector's face from where he stood near the door. But he could imagine the frustration that the man had to felt. Asami-sama could manipulate his opponent's mind with the simplest of word or body language.
"Then it seems that Fortune has turned her back upon you, Asami-san, since all of your powerful friends have either turned up dead or disappear. Have you ever wondered, why?"
His boss didn't even blink. Asami-sama's face was as composed as always, but it was plain to Tao that Asami-sama had long lost his patience for these questions. His boss' tone as he answered, however, was smooth and serious as if he was considering his next investment instead of the answer to a stupid rhetorical question. "So that she can bend over and let me fuck her in the ass?"
Tao swore he couldn't stop the snort. Hell, if he didn't manage to hold himself back at the very last second, he would burst out laughing. The Inspector wasn't amused, though. He stood abruptly in anger, growling, "This is not a joke, Asami-san."
"I didn't say that it is, Inspector. But you came to my office at-" Asami-sama paused to glance at the shiny metal clock on the furthest wall, "-11.15PM, barged in without any warrant that you can show me, ignored my request to have my lawyer with me, and asked me stupid questions that I have no answer. If you are so free as to waste the taxpayers' money, I would really appreciate it more if you can spend your time investigating the murders instead of sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!"
Asami-sama's barely controlled wrath forced the Inspector to take a step back. The younger officer had shrunk, looking like he was ready to bolt at any moment, his head turning around to look between Asami-sama and Kirishima, as if expecting any of them to pull out a hand gun and shoot him between the eyes. For a brief moment, no one moved, the world daring not to make any sound. Tao waited patiently for what seemed like an eternity. If these two idiots claiming to be the police made a stupid move, he would make sure that they would regret it. It was easy to find someone willing to take the blame for the right amount of incentives.
But in the end, Inspector Yamashita just nodded curtly, "I guess, that will be all. We'll keep in touch, Asami-san."
His boss gave the man another polite nod in response. "Please do, Inspector. I would love to know the progress of the investigation."
Kirishima readily walked to escort the two guests out of the building. The moment their guests were out of the room, Tao watched in sympathy as his boss shut his eyes and rubbed his face wearily. It had been a long day, starting with the treaty signing with the Takamiyas and ending with the cops. Tao hoped there would be no more surprise after this. Even Tao felt like he was ready to go home and just laid his tired body on bed, preferably with a warm body snuggling beside him.
His boss took out a box of cigarette, pulled one out and slipped it in between his lips. Without even thinking, Tao quickly got his lighter out and bend to light the stick. Asami-sama inhaled the deadly smoke, his body relaxing quickly as he exhaled.
Tao remained quiet for a few more minutes before bracing himself. "With all respect, Sir, but perhaps it will help if Akihito knows the situation. Keeping him in the dark might endanger him more." This was 15-years-old argument between Tao and the crime lord, and they had long ago agreed to disagree on this subject. Well, it might worth to try changing his boss' decision one more time. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
Asami-sama just shot him a glare. "The less he knows, the safer he will be. If people have even the slightest thought that Akihito may know something, anything, they will make him a target. And Akihito is like an open book. Once I tell him something, he can never pretend that he doesn't know."
The same argument as always, and it was indeed a valid point. Tao could see the truth in it. But he knew from experience that ignorance wasn't always a bliss. In fact, in the underworld, ignorance could mean an early dead. The images of Akihito being hurt, tortured for information that he didn't know, and then left to die bleeding on a concrete floor somewhere Tao couldn't find had haunted Tao's nightmares lately. The dreams had felt so real that he would wake up in panic, his breathing erratic and his body covered by sweat.
"Just make sure that everything is ready, Tao," Asami-sama continued. "If anything happens to me, though I hope nothing will, but just in case, you'll do whatever necessary to protect my Akihito, bring him out of the country as planned."
They had discussed every detail of the plan over and over again right after the body of Commissioner General Matshushita was found a week ago. Hayashi Taro was the third dead body in the last two months. Another of their contact, an influential member of the parliament, had just disappeared more than a month ago, not even a single trace left to follow. But up until Hayashi Taro, the authorities had no clue that all of the victims were supporting Sion Group one way or another. Then Hayashi Taro was found dead and somehow the fact that Asami-sama had asked his help from time to time had leaked. It didn't take them long to start digging deeper, trying to find any link between the other victims and Asami-sama.
Tao tried to focus himself. The plan was quite simple, actually. Kirishima and Suoh would stay with Asami-sama, no matter what happened. Haruka would take Mizuki and bring the little princess into hiding until they could get out of the country. Another escape route was prepared for the twins. Tao knew they could take care of themselves. Besides, the kids were underage. The authorities would be more lenient towards them. But Akihito was vulnerable, ironically because he had no knowledge about any of this. And as twisted as it was, Asami-sama knew that Tao would do anything to keep Akihito alive, even if it meant giving up his own life.
"Please rest assured that everything is well taken care of, Asami-sama. The only way anyone else can touch Akihito is over my dead body."
The crime lord gave him a knowing look. But this time there wasn't any of the usual warning in those golden eyes, just understanding from a man who knew how it felt to love someone to the point of willing to die for that person. "Thank you, Tao. I really appreciate it."
Tao didn't know which was worse: that he couldn't disobey Asami-sama to warn the only person in the world that he would gladly die for, or that sometimes, the Akihito in his dreams would turn into Nao, his 15-years-old body laying in the middle of his own blood, those hazel eyes that were too similar to Akihito's would stare at nothing, looking like a broken angelic doll with an eerie smile on his face.
"He knows nothing," Mitarai reported grimly. "He truly didn't know about Hayashi Taro until I told him." The man at the other side of the call remained frighteningly silent.
Mitarai could only thank whatever gods out there for not having to meet the man in person again. Being an investigative journalist for decades, Mitarai had seen the worst part of the society, the kind that would make a murderer look like a saint. But this man was another level of worst altogether. His wiring was just screwed up. There was darkness in him that could never be quenched, not by tears, nor sweats, nor blood. Being in his presence had chilled Mitarai to the core, an experience that he didn't want to repeat, if possible.
In a way, the man had reminded Mitarai of Asami Ryuichi. No morals. No rules. No restraints. The two men both played by ignoring all the standards that society had set, and by doing so, they had beaten us all in our own game. But, Asami Ryuichi had done all that while wearing a mask of humanity, keeping a small part of him that was still a man intact. This man, however, had no sense of humanity. Humanity was simply a foreign idea that didn't make any sense to him. And it made him much, much more dangerous.
Lately, Mitarai wondered whether it would be better to just cut and run. All these schemes had looked like a good idea half a year ago. With the millions that he would get out of this situation, he had planned for his early retirement. Now, the money just didn't seem to worth all the risks that he took. But he knew he couldn't stop. Not now. The man he was talking to would hunt him down if he bailed. Running now would be his ticket to a slow and painful death. Even thinking about the possibility sent a shiver down his spine, and not in a good way.
"So, Asami Akihito is merely a toy," the man finally commented.
Mitarai sighed. "Well, I told you. He is just Asami's kept boy, someone to take care of his children. A living-in babysitter that he can fuck. Trust me, I have been watching Akihito for years."
"A toy can still be useful."
Mitarai glanced at the papers on his desk, playing the edge with his fingers. It was actually part of the report he had given to Akihito earlier today, a few pages that he had removed from the folder so that Akihito would never find out. Written in it was 6-months bank statements of every staff in the private high school where Sato was currently working.
There were a lot of money transfers to every staff's account. The transfers were made from different accounts in numerous banks. The frequency was completely random. And the amount wasn't too big to draw attention, not something that anyone would notice if they were looking only for 2-3 months of time frame. But Mitarai wasn't a newbie who just started his career in the journalism. He had years of experience looking for patterns, links, and anything that looked too coincidental to be coincidence. He had pulled some strings and managed to get hold of all details about the staffs back to nearly a year ago. And if one calculated all the suspicious transfers during that period of times, the total amount of money sent to each staff became sizeable. Such a big amount to mere high school staffs, regularly every month, except for new teachers? Believing that he would miss it was an insult to his pride as an investigative journalist.
He quickly replied, "I know. I will keep digging around."
"You better do that." The man hung up the phone.
Mitarai fought the instinct to wrap his arms around his own body. It is summer, it can't be that cold, he reminded himself. Yet, his body shook violently, his skin turned pale and icy as if he was buried underground. And if he didn't find something about Akihito soon, anything sticky that he could offer to the man to complete his end of the bargain, buried underground was how he would be.