“Can any of us be reason with when it comes to our women?” Hisashi dead eyes search ours.
“What alternative do we have? Wage war on two fronts?” Looking from man to man I feel that soon the streets will be running red with blood soon this is not resolved soon.
“Perhaps, they will be satisfied with proof of life and contentment” Hisashi muses.
“You would not allow that if it was Kana.” I remind him of the length he and Kiyoshi went to secure the freedom for their sister and even their despicable mother.
“Family will always will out,” Takashi nods in agreement.
“It will be up to Tsuyoshi to convince his pet her compliance is in the best interest of his family.” My cousin’s monster says with cold finality, taking over.
“I will go talk to him and make the request.” I announce to the room at large.
“I’ll accompany you.” Takashi says.
“We will not be killing anyone, brother.” I dead eye him. Know I miss my wife, but he seems ready to burn and salt the earth at the moment at the loss of Bridget.
“Hai,” Giving me his word with a slight deferential bow.
Screwing him a hard look, Hisashi grunts. “Need I remind you that our alliance with the Tatsumoto was long in coming, and they are not the ones holding your wives?”
“Yes, and the assholes who gave her to him are safely tucked away with their pregnant wives with heirs on the way.” My twin reminds our cousin how Kiyoshi signed off on the gift Akchiro supplied to the yakuza prince to cement the deal between the Takedas and Tatsumoto syndicates.
“Yes and now it will be you two who further strengthen this alliance. I have every confidence you will.” Rising after basically telling us not to kill Tsuyoshi Tatsumoto, he bows and leaves the room. The soft click of the door that follows may as well be a gunshot.
The fortressof the Tatsumoto Yakuza prince is a renovated ancient samurai mansion — all sleek lines and manicured bonsai trees graduating in degree and height as our car gradually makes its way up the incline of the hill it sits atop, looking down on the valley below.
Strategically, it’s perfect. With the three hundred-sixty degree views afforded from his ancestors’ building, the home in such a place, the Tatsumoto will never be caught unawares.
There was no point in a surprise visit. We’d never make up here alive. As a courtesy, he agreed to meet with us, but we know as well as he does that is all it will be.
The yakuza prince is fully aware of everything that is going on in Tokyo regarding the pet he insists on keeping. Unmoved and unbothered and probably obsessed to boot, he’s felt no desire to engage with us or any other the other Yakuza clans in regards to parting with her. Nor has he reached out to her brothers to resolve the issue.
The scenery is majestic. It’s almost idyllic, and I’d actually appreciate it more where not for the task I’d set for myself.
As soon as the car comes to a stop in the circular drive, a cadre of Tatsumoto Yakuza spill from the entrance of the residence, lining the path to the door.
Stepping out of the vehicle, we hand over our knives, daggers, and signature Katana, leaving them in the care of trusted Tatsumoto soldiers. Each man bows with the promise to take care of our cherished items. There are no guns — to use one in Yakuza culture is dishonor.
“This way, Tatsumoto Sensei awaits.” A scared man, Kenshin Tatsumoto, head enforcer, second in command and first cousin, says with cold indifference after we’ve removed our shoes for house slippers.
Warrior to his core and a former Japanese special forces officer, he, along with his cousin, has put more bodies in the ground than anyone aside from us.
We dip our heads in bows of greeting, following as he takes us down a hallway laden with masterful art. Hisashi informed us of Tsuysohi’s secret passion for art.
His work is museum-quality. I can’t take my eyes off the masterful pieces. Each step leading us down the corridor takes us to more and more magnificent works of art.
Takashi’s and my eyes meet. “Genius,” he mutters.
“Don’t let him hear you say that,” admonishes the man leading the way. “He killed the last person who praised his work.”
A servant slides the doors open as we approach.
Stepping back, Kenshin bows as the servant leaves. Closing the doors as we step in, he takes a position just outside the door.
“Konichiwa,” comes the voice of the man lounging in the tradition seating area. Bowing to Tatsumoto, we wait until he motions us forward.
“Thank you for seeing us, Tatsumoto Sensei.” Bowing again, I take on the role of senior brother addressing the man of higher rank.
