Page 22 of Cunning Lies
KENZO
The garden promenadeswims in greenery; you’d never guess that an oyabun of a major yakuza designed a place this beautiful and peaceful, but that’s our boss for you. The bright red leaves of Japanese maples line the edges, interspersed with dense zelkova trees. Peace lilies and azaleas spread throughout the space, showing off their bright flowers. Art galleries, artisan cocktail bars, and boutique shops border the garden, but today, it’s cleared out for us.
I take my wife’s hand, scanning the room. The tables are bundled in elegant tablecloths, and big sashes are tied around the chairs. Everyone mingles, and my wife stands by my side.
Tomo approaches us, bowing his head slightly. I return the gesture, making sure my bow is deeper than his. Then, with a firm grip, we shake hands again. He’s gritting his teeth, holding his emotions in, but a smile rips through his face and he pulls me in for the seventh hug that day.
“My kid got married,” he says again. Tears blur his eyes as he pats my shoulder. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the first, Kenzo?”
I chuckle. “Come on, Oyaji. Have faith!” He laughs heartily when I say the nickname, Pops.
“But it’s you, Kenzo!” he shouts. “My wild child. And how are you treating your beautiful bride?”
Tomo faces my wife. She lowers her eyes, flinching away from an authority figure, but I’ve had an eye on her all day, and she likes to stare. No—it’s not that. Shestudies.Watches people like they’re part of an experiment. Lowering her eyes is a way of pretending to be a demure virgin, but I don’t buy it.
“You all right, Vivian?” Tomo asks. Apparently, he doesn’t buy it either.
She bows her head, keeping her eyes on the ground. Tomo and I exchange looks. He lifts his shoulders.
“Guests of honor,” he says, nodding towards the head table. “You belong there. Let’s celebrate!”
A variety of Japanese cuisine and other treats are served. I grab the tuna sashimi and get my wife a tray of mixed rolls. “Come Sail Away”by Styx plays faintly on the speakers, and even for a last-minute wedding, it’s perfect. The guests chatter with us, talking business, but once they realize Tomo is here and willing to talk for once, they lose interest in me and find him. I’m happy with that.
Vi eats a California roll, giving her practiced smile as she scans the room.Again.What is she after? Is she working for her uncle, her cousin, or herself?
But now isn’t the time to pry. I’ll save that for later, when she’s more… preoccupied.
Niko, ourwakagashira,comes by.As the underboss, he makes sure things run according to Tomo’s plans, though he sometimes gets the end results in unexpected—orundesirable—ways. He’s tall with broad shoulders, crewcut hair, and black eyes with patches of blue, a rarity prevalent in Northern Japan. He immigrated with Tomo to the United States when he was seven years old. But unlike Dice and me, Niko refuses to get the traditional tattoos, claiming it’s old-fashioned for the yakuza.
I overheard Tomo once say that he slept with a sex worker from Aomori and out came Niko, but I never asked for details. My guess is that Tomo doesn’t even know if Niko is actually his biological kid.
“Kanpai,” Niko says, bringing me a glass of whisky. I take it and we clink our glasses together. Niko can be an argumentative asshole, so I take the pleasantries when I can get them.
“Cheers, brother!” I say.
And just like that, he disappears again. Vi taps my arm.
“I thought there’s supposed to be a tea ceremony,” Vi says. “That’s the Japanese tradition, right?”
I quirk my head to the side, impressed that she actually knows about that. My wife is curious about our culture? Howinteresting.And suspicious.
“Declined it,” I say. “I suffered through a sakazuki ceremony for my initiation—”
“Sakazuki?”
I wave a hand in front of me. “It’s a sake sharing ceremony. Anyway, I don’t want to suffer through that again unless Ihaveto.” Tomo didn’t pressure me to go through with it this time, so we stuck to the western traditions. “You did your research, then?”
“I like to be prepared.”
I like that. Thinking ahead is one of my weaker traits. The wind takes me, and I follow it, just like with this marriage. I needed a wife to pretend to be the typical corporate face, and the wind brought me Vi.
The doors markedEmployees Onlyswing open and two of our soldiers enter, escorting a man in a suit with crew cut black hair, black eyes, and an angular jaw. The entire promenade falls silent. Tomo is already on his feet, and Cherry and I are immediately standing on either side of him, staring coldly as the stranger approaches us. Niko crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing us from afar, and Dice speaks quietly into an earpiece from the corner of the room.
“Tomo-san,” the stranger says as he bows his head. “My name is Ronin.”
“I know who you are,” Tomo says.
The rest of us scrutinize Ronin. How do we know him? The sharp features of his jaw seem familiar, but I’m not sure why.
