Page 65 of The Queen's Denial

“Oh?” Akio’s expression doesn’t change. “Is it that the security I’ve hired these past few months are too busy listening in on our conversations to do their jobs?”

I blink at him mildly. I’m not sure where this is coming from, since listening to their conversations is literally part of my job.

“Would you like to report something? I apologize if one of our men isn’t working to your standards.”

Akio’s poor temper simply deepens at my words. He’s never been one to use conversation to settle confrontations, but he seems to be testing his hand at it with me. “I see one of those men before me right now.”

It’s pretty clear at this point that Akio has taken my decision not to join his daughter in Japan personally. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be happy about it, but I didn’t expect him to show such obvious displeasure. Last time we spoke, we parted ways as amicably as possible, even for an employee who had basically been given the boot by their employer. He has kept Cas on as his ancillary security, so I truly didn’t expect there to be animosity between us. I figured he was just doing what he thought best for his daughter. I didn’t think he would actually be angry at my decision not to go with her. Clearly, I was wrong.

I decide to cut the professionalism and be frank, since it seems that’s really what Akio is going for. “Listen, I understand that perhaps you’re not entirely happy with me right now, but Cas is away, and I am the boss at the moment. I’m the end of the line. I want to be here to keep an eye on things, and it’s good that I have been. There’s a guard in your ranks that is clearly talking to someone on the outside. I heard him making plans that certainly don’t include you and sound likely to harm your organization.”

I understand why he considers me hostile, but I wish he didn’t, since I don’t feel that way toward him at all. He is actually one of the few people I look up to, who I’ve taken small pieces of wisdom from. That doesn’t happen very often for me.

He has run this organization for decades. When he took over, the Yakuza was in pieces, all over Japan and America, with little unity. He brought it back together, making it work as one cohesive unit again. He made it safer for his family, for his soldiers and their families, and even for anyone whose lives were touched by it without their knowledge. He made it more lucrative, running smoothly instead of in fractured inefficiency.

I hope that if I ever own an organization like his or Cas’s, that I will run it the same way. I look up to Cas for this, but I know he is still young and has more to learn. I’m sure he wouldn’t agree, but I see the differences between himself and Akio, and I think if he looked deep enough, he’d see them too.

But it doesn’t matter now, because I’ve disappointed Akio in more ways than one, and it has finally caught up to me. He’s clearly not going to take anything I say at face value. I need to push.

“I wouldn’t come here without proof.” I take out the recording I have from my van and hold it up. He studies me with that angry, penetrating gaze for a full 30 seconds, and I’m tempted to squirm, but I keep my cool.

After a rough breath out, he finally relents. “You have no reason to lie to me, I suppose. I will take the tape and listen to it myself. We will torture and kill the man. We’ll find out anything he knows.”

I’m sure he’s about to dismiss me, but I want in on this plan. I want to make sure we do everything we can to figure out who the guard was talking to and what they were interested in.

So I speak quickly, not giving him a chance to dismiss me. “Sir, I’d like a spot in the room. I’ve dealt with my fair share of moles during my time in the Special Ops. I’ve been even more ruthless interrogating and torturing subjects working with Cas. I know the way they can get under the skin of your organization, like a splinter, affecting so many different areas. The longer they fester the worse they get, and if you just cut off the tip, the infection will spread to the whole body. We need to make sure to tease out all of the information from this guy and take out anyone he may have been working with.”

Akio sits back in his chair and studies me again, and this time I know I’m not about to hear him say anything good. He seems even more unhappy at this point than he has been this entire conversation.

“You know, I used to think I had everything figured out. But life had other plans for me. It will knock you down time and time again, young man. You think with the leader of your organization gone, you’re the boss. You can insert yourself into other people’s disputes however you feel like. Yes, Casca is that way, too. You’re both young and arrogant, and I’ve done business with you because you’re smart and willful. But you don’t deserve a place in my torture room, boy. Not after your poor decisions as of late.”

I go to cut in — to defend myself, even though I know it’s of little use, and even through the slight fear that he might blow my brains out any minute. But he doesn’t even let me speak, anyway, before he continues.

“I think it’s time we stop playing around here. I think it’s time you leave for good. This isn’t a game in which you collect bits and pieces as you go, lose some along the way, but get a prize in the end. This is all or nothing, and you’ve made your decision. You’ve chosen nothing. Send another soldier to sit sentry outside my house. I will take care of this mole with my people, not yours. And especially not you.”

I finally realize that this isn’t actually personal, as I initially thought it was. It’s for Chi. He believes it’s for her own good, and he’s angry at me for not realizing that, too. I see his point; maybe it would be better for me to leave her alone and let her go.

Chi isn’t the type of person to cry or go to her father to complain, so I’m guessing he knows about it because she hasn’t been able to hide her feelings from him sufficiently enough. Instead of making me happy that she’s thinking about me, the realization just makes me feel worse. Maybe my presence outside of her house really is making everything harder for her like it is for me.

But neither of them understands the other reason I’m here. Yes, Akio is right that I’m camping out because I want to keep some hold on her, however intangible. But I also truly care about her safety and worry that if I’m too lax, I won’t be able to help when there is a threat. A real threat, and not just these little things that pop up here and there that won’t ever amount to anything. Because eventually, there will be a real threat.

I try to explain this worry. “You must understand that you aren’t ever free from big threats, Akio. After all these years, you wouldn’t still be alive if you didn’t believe that these things could touch you.”

“Yes, Andy-san,” he begins, toying with the mouse on his computer. I know by his distracted gaze that my time is truly up. “Of course, I know to never stop being vigilant. But you insult me further when you assume that I can’t handle these issues on my own. And you show your hubris in the fact that you believe you’re the only one who can take care of it.”

This is hard to argue with, and I really don’t know what to say. I don’t see another choice here but to submit to his decision because it’s not mine to make in the long run. But I’m not about to make him think I’m okay with this, or that he’s doing the right thing.

“Fine, Akio. But you’re making a mistake, sir. I’ve never tried to hurt you, and you know I have a vested interest in helping. Shutting me out will only hurt you in the end. But do what you must. And unless you fire Casca, I have no choice but to stick around here. I’m here on his orders, not my own.”

I stand and bow my head, almost in melancholy. Logically, there is nothing to regret right now, but it feels like that emotion is rattling around inside of me. He sees the look on my face; I’m certain he realizes I’d never stand this way in front of anyone else, and I see him give me a side-long glance as he takes notice.

“I’m not the bad guy, Akio. I just made a decision you don’t like. I don’t like it much either, and I know Chi doesn’t. But as you know better than anyone, I’m sure, this is the way our lives are. This is what is dictated to me and what I have to follow. So, I’m going along with it. I’m doing what I can to get by. Don’t make it as though I’m the enemy.”

I turn from him and stride out of the office and down the hall before I spot her in the darkened corner on the landing of the stairs. In the dim light, I can just barely make out the crease in her forehead that tells me she’s trying too hard to look tough — to put up that impenetrable barrier that she could never quite fully erect around me.

I don’t want to think about what lies beneath it, because it doesn’t matter. Right now, there might be some sadness, but there’s anger too. I doubt it matters how long she’s been standing there. We were loud and the door was ajar.

“You heard me,” I say. Her glance flicks up at me, and she nods her head slowly.

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