The Undertow (The Kuroda Yakuza Series Book 2) Read online

  Rebelling against convention.

  Who’s to say where and when and how we’re supposed to exist?

  “It’s as old as, or maybe older than this house. Pre-war. Maybe even back to the Meiji era.”

  “Meiji?”

  “The mondernization of Japan. The turn of last century. When my people took on the ways of yours. When my ancestors became Westernized.”

  I watch his face carefully. A day’s worth of stubble has shadowed his jaw. “I didn’t know you were a history student.”

  “Common knowledge,” he shrugs. “Learnt in every school curriculum. That’s as far as my education goes. I wasn’t the best student.”

  “Let me guess. You got bored easily.”

  Kaito’s standing still, his hands clasped behind his back. We’re very close, but he doesn’t put his arm around me. He shakes his head. “Too many fights,” he replies. “Got suspended all the time. Eventually, I was expelled.”

  He’s wearing a short-sleeved black t-shirt, leaving his arms bare, showing off his amazing ink. It’s a rare sight; Kaito usually goes around wearing long sleeves. The shirt moulds to his muscular body, revealing the outline of his sculpted form underneath.

  I drag my eyes away from his torso, reminding myself that this is serious talk. The early morning light makes everything seem different, washing away the sins of the night. But the reality of what I saw remains, like a bitter aftertaste.

  I try my best not to let the emotions play across my face. “I was suspended too,” I say, irony creeping into my voice. “For smoking weed in the toilets.”

  “Really?” Kaito wrinkles his brow in surprise. “I learn something new about you every day. But of course, you would have been the rebellious type. I can easily picture that.” He shoots me a dark look. “Adventurous. Willing to try new things. Even at the cost of self-preservation.”

  I return his stare. “You could say so.” I turn to face him, rubbing my arms as a cool breeze swirls through the open space, raising goosebumps on my arms. “What was that last night, Kaito? Should I even ask?”

  I shudder at the memory of seeing those bodies. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen such a thing. I half wonder how I’m keeping it all together.

  His face is inscrutable, almost serene, masking his true thoughts. This man of mine can be too damn cryptic sometimes. “Someone powerful wants something from me. I’m not sure what that is. He’s going to keep sending people after us until he gets what he wants. He’ll use you, if he has to; if he can get to you. I don’t intend for that to ever happen. But now that I’ve messed up his plans twice, it’s going to get heavy.”

  “So what are you going to do? Ask your family or whatever they are for help?”

  “In a way, yes. We’re moving to a safe house today. We can’t stay here anymore. And I’m going to talk to the person who’s behind all this.”

  “Talk to?” The skepticism must be written all over my face, because a small, humorless smile appears on Kaito’s lips.

  “In a way, yes.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Kaito. I might be missing something obvious here, but I need to understand. When I met you in LA, you were working for the Kuroda Group as an accountant. But of course, as I know now, you were so much more than that, weren’t you?”

  He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything.

  “And now, you’ve been called back here because your boss is dead. Because you’re the one they call to deal with these kinds of things. And as soon as you arrive, some random guy starts following us, and I’m supposed to be a target because of my relationship to you, and now people are breaking into your house, in the dead of the night, to do God knows what?”

  He’s still looking at me with that damn impenetrable expression, waiting for me to finish.

  “So I’m trying to understand why anyone would go to so much trouble to get to you, and that leads me to thinking you’re not just some run of the mill low level hustler in this organization. But I already knew that, didn’t I? I just didn’t realise how far it went. So who the hell are you, Kaito Araki, that even your enemies won’t just kill you outright?” My voice cracks a little at that last part. These past few days, I’ve pushed aside the fear and trepidation, putting on my calm face, taking everything in my stride.

  But those feelings are very real, lurking beneath the surface and threatening to spill over, as much as I try to deny them.

  Am I in too deep?

  The answer, I suspect, is yes.

  He considers me for a moment, the pure morning light bathing him in an ethereal glow. I squint against the brightness.

  “I’m no-one important,” he says quietly. “But I have done many terrible things. Pissed a lot of people off, and made many enemies. I’m paying the price for that now.”

  “You’re not telling me everything.”

  “No.” As he looks at me, his dark eyes seem to soften. Then he moves, pulling me into his arms in a single, fluid motion.

  He’s freshly showered; he smells of soap and subtle aftershave and his own complex, masculine scent. Kaito buries his face in my hair and takes a deep breath, planting a soft kiss on my head.

  His tenderness is sudden and unexpected, surprising me. It’s a stark contrast to the harsh reality of our situation.

  This man is capable of such violence, and yet he can be amazingly gentle. I bask in the feel of his strong arms around me, and right now, it’s so easy to forget that last night, he was standing in the darkness with the blood of two men on his hands.

  “Sorry,” he whispers, holding me tighter.

  “What for?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “All of this.”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” I murmur. “You can’t change the past. You are who you are. And it’s you I chose to be with. Not some guy with a whitewashed past. No-one’s perfect, Kaito.”

  “You are.” He caresses the side of my face with callused fingers, his touch feather-light. It sends a shudder of pleasure up my spine.

  “Am not. Shut up.”

  “You’re perfect to me.” Standing in the glorious morning sunshine that washes away the ugliness of last night, we could be any ordinary couple.

  I rest my cheek against Kaito’s broad chest, closing my eyes, enjoying the silence and the feel of his slow, rhythmic breathing.

  Wishing this moment could last longer.

  But life goes on, and I get the feeling the real drama is yet to unfold.

  And I just remembered something. I have a meeting today. With the Brightblack people. To sell some of my art.

  How the hell am I going to convince Kaito to let me out? I can be pretty persuasive, but he’s in lockdown mode after what happened last night.

  One thing’s for sure. I am going there. I just don’t know how yet.

  I might just have to drag this lone wolf along with me. Hopefully he doesn’t scare off the buyers.

  Adele

  After holding me in that bittersweet embrace, Kaito disappears to make some phone calls. Thinking of breakfast, I make a beeline for the kitchen, only to find Madoka sitting at the table, cradling a cup of tea.

  “Morning,” I call, as she looks up with bleary eyes. She’s wearing a faded yukata similar to mine. With her face scrubbed clean of make-up, she looks a lot younger than I first thought.

  I’d assumed she was about Kaito’s age, but she’s probably at least five years younger than him.

  Madoka’s hair is tousled, her eyes red. Although her skin is still flawless without the makeup, there are dark circles under her eyes.

  She’s been crying.

  Her phone sits before her on the table. It lights up and starts to vibrate, ringing and ringing. She ignores it.

  “Hey, you all right?” I question her softly, not sure how much of my English she understands.

  At first, she says nothing, staring at me blankly as if she’s wishing I’d go away. I shrug and go make myself some tea. Then, I take a seat at the table.


  “I feel like shit,” Madoka drawls, startling me a little. “Sorry. I’m not the best company.”

  “Huh.” She can actually understand me perfectly well. I shake my head. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, but shutting yourself away isn’t the best way to deal with it.”

  Madoka gives me a flat stare. “Do you even know who I am?”

  “You’re Kaito’s sister. What else is there to know?”

  She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “In Japan, I’m kind of famous.” Her voice drips with irony, and I’m not sure if she’s entirely serious. “But my brother and I, we’re not close.”

  I still don’t understand this rift. “Why don’t you guys get along?”

  “He’s a thug, a criminal. Those people disgust me.” She rolls her eyes. “You do understand that, don’t you?”

  Something inside me snaps. Hot anger rises to the surface, but when I speak, my voice is icy cold. “You don’t know anything about him, or me. So I’d appreciate if you leave the judgemental bullshit at the door. If you have such a low opinion of him, why are you even here?”

  Madoka hunches over, running her fingers through her wild, dark hair. “I’ve got no choice. I’m avoiding something. My work; they’ve gone too far. Upset me. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know. You wouldn’t understand. Forget it.” The words come out as a frantic torrent, jumbled and confused.

  “He’s protecting you,” I suggest.

  Madoka snorts. “If only. He’s not the honorable type. He’s got orders from above. From the people who own me. That’s the only reason I’m here. And if I try to run, they’ll find me. Better the devil you know. Isn’t that a saying you Americans have?”

  I study her in bemusement. I’m not really sure what she’s going on about. But it’s obvious something’s upset her.

  She’s scattered, disorganised, lost. Confused. Vulnerable.

  A ship without an anchor.

  I was the same, once.

  A strange, familiar sensation causes me to look up, and I realise Kaito’s standing in the doorway, watching us.

  How long has he been there?

  He’s changed into his usual work attire; a fitted, tailored suit, with not a crease or wrinkle in sight. He looks amazing and I feel desire stirring within me. I’m used to that response by now. No matter what the situation, my body betrays me. I can’t help it.

  He could be a stockbroker or a lawyer, or even an accountant, on his way to fight battles with carefully selected words and clauses.

  Instead, he fights with the real tools of violence.

  He inhabits a world we only see in movies or read about in books; a place where the rules are written by self-appointed emperors, and the laws we ordinary folk follow don’t apply.

  If I hadn’t caught glimpses of it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have even believed such a thing could exist.

  I’m an idealist at heart.

  Kaito gives me a long, smouldering look, then turns to Madoka. He says something harsh to her in Japanese. She glares back at him, summoning all her fierceness and defiance.

  Then, something strange happens.

  It’s like a wall crumbles, and tears start to well in her eyes. She blinks them back, fighting. She snarls at Kaito. I don’t understand what they’re saying.

  He snaps back at her, not relenting.

  Madoka buries her face in her hands.

  I stand, crossing the floor so I’m facing him. “Kaito. Whatever it is, leave it, for now. Can’t you see how she is? Look at her.”

  “I don’t need you to fight my battles,” sniffs Madoka, her voice muffled.

  I ignore her. “Lay off, Kaito. She’s your sister.”

  He regards me with a curious expression, before turning away. “Get your things ready. We’re leaving. Madoka, it’s your choice. Come with us, or go back to the studio. Back to your manager.”

  “Not like I have a choice,” she says darkly, as Kaito disappears.

  I sip the rest of my tea, watching her. Something’s happened to this woman. She’s been hurt, wounded, and she’s retreating behind a brittle, volatile facade.

  I intend to get to the bottom of it. Because any family member of Kaito’s is family to me, too. Even if he’s an asshole to her.

  The lone wolf needs to learn how to get along with others. Especially if he’s planning on a long-term relationship with me.

  Oops, did I just say long-term?

  Kaito

  They pile into the car as I start the engine, Madoka and Ryuji in the back, Adele in the passenger seat beside me.

  My sister is sullen, her expression dark like a stormcloud. Ryuji is subdued. He hasn’t said a word all morning. I guess I scared him a bit too much last night.

  Couldn’t be helped.

  Adele glances across at me with knowing eyes, one dark eyebrow raised.

  I flip on my shades and pull out, focusing on the road. I know what she’s thinking. I’m choosing to ignore her, for now.

  I hate to admit it, but it’s almost with regret that I locked up the old Ueno house, leaving it empty again. The place has been deserted for too long.

  For the first few years, after mother died, I couldn’t go back there. The emptiness was painful. It’s the house I grew up in, surrounded by whores. They all fussed over me. Masahiro and I were the only kids there, and during the day, they spoilt us, buying us toys, video cassettes, manga, you name it.

  I remember watching American movies with Sandra and Keisha, the women who taught me English. They were both from New York, and they both loved Pacino and De Niro. So I grew up on a diet of classic movies and I was taught the English language by prostitutes. It’s probably why I sound more American than most Japanese.

  In the night, they would entertain clients, leaving me to watch re-runs of Scarface or Raging Bull with the volume on full, drowning out the noise downstairs.

  The Japanese salarymen loved the American girls.

  Sometimes, I would go out at night and walk the streets, just to get away from that place. And in the morning, I would go home and pick up the mess. Cigarette butts, empty sake bottles, used syringes.

  No wonder I’m fucked up.

  It’s the reason I’ve kept to myself for so long. But all of a sudden, I find myself surrounded by people.

  How the hell did that happen?

  It wasn’t my intention at all.

  The fact that there’s even a woman like Adele, crazy enough and brave enough to be with me; that’s a miracle in itself.

  Maybe, after all these years, I’m changing.

  Is that even possible?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her as I turn onto the expressway, weaving in and out of traffic, flying past rows and rows of boxlike grey apartments. Tokyo is an oversized, ultra-organized concrete metropolis, and it can be heaven or hell, depending on one’s place in life.

  Even wearing yesterday’s clothes, her hair arranged in a messy ponytail, her face unaffected by makeup, Adele is fucking beautiful. Her subtle vanilla scent teases me, and I wish I didn’t have to go to work.

  I’d prefer to stay in bed with her all day. We’d fuck and nap and nestle against each other and then fuck again and again, until the sun goes down and the city comes alive.

  But after I take them to the secure apartment in Roppongi, I need to hunt.

  Osamu Genda, the leader of the Shibata-gumi, is after me. Yet, for some reason, he doesn’t want me dead.

  I don’t know why, and I don’t care.

  I’m certain he’s behind my boss’s murder. He’s my target. I’m sure Erika Goto would agree.

  Taking down the boss of a large yakuza group is next to impossible. Even for me, it’s an invitation for death.

  So I have to be extremely careful now, because, for the first time since my mother died, there’s someone who would be upset if I ended up dead.

  This precious woman of mine. I can’t let her down.

  For some reason, my piece of shit life has some value
to her.

  I will hunt Genda, but I’ll do it on my terms. And if he’s still the same man I remember; the same petty, greedy street hustling pimp, then I may just be able to get away with it.

  Aside from Ishida’s murder, I have my own reasons for going after the Shibata-gumi’s boss.

  Genda and I, we go way back. And I’ll bet the man hasn’t changed since I saw him last.

  I still have unfinished business with him.

  Adele

  We enter a monolithic building of steel and glass, going up in the elevators from the basement carpark. Kaito leads the way, taking us to the forty-fifth floor. We follow him into a sleek, modern apartment. At the door stands a guard in a dark suit. He nods as Kaito says something to him in Japanese.

  Seeing that hard-faced man standing outside the door is a bit surreal. It reminds me that we’re being watched, all the time.

  I know the threat is real, but I can’t help but feel this is a bit like a glamorous prison.

  The space inside is a huge expanse with tall glass windows offering a view of the city below. I stare out at Tokyo in amazement. As far as the eye can see, in every direction, a dense, concrete network stretches out.

  It goes on and on and on.

  It never ends.

  I’m starting to appreciate just how huge and densely populated this place is.

  “We’ll be staying here from now on.” Kaito speaks in English, presumably for my benefit. “Madoka, you’re not going anywhere. Adele, call me if there’s any trouble. The kid will stay out of your way.” He nods towards Ryuji, who’s gazing off into the distance, a glazed expression on his face.

  Madoka glares at Kaito with a whole lot of venom, but says nothing.

  “Well, this is nice,” I blurt, trying to break the oppressive atmosphere. Everyone’s in a bad mood, and the situation feels tense, brittle. It’s all rather awkward. “Kaito, can we talk?”

  He inclines his head.

  “In private?” I drag him by the lapels of his jacket into a nearby room. I don’t care what the others think. Kaito raises an eyebrow, but follows me without protest. I slam the door behind us.

  “I need to go somewhere today,” I inform him.