Page 18 of Bound By the Yakuza

“So, uh, what about your father?” Tatsuya asked.

“Follow-up questions weren’t part of the deal,” I countered.

“I’m not asking to satisfy my curiosity,” He said, propping himself on one elbow to face me fully. “I mean, if there’s Bratva goons going to be dropping into my territory, I need to know if they’re dangerous or not.”

I paled. “No, no,” I blurted. “They have no idea where I am. My brother is covering for me until my dad calls off the wedding.” I didn’t add that it had already been weeks and my father hadn’t given up. My brother told me he was talking to contacts in Hong Kong. He was only steps away from me at this point, but I remained steadfast.

“Then what?”

“Then,” I paused, glancing around. “Then, I don’t know what happens next.”

Tatsuya kissed me softly. “Just promise you won’t disappear without saying goodbye.”

“I promise,” I nodded.

Tatsuya held my hand, linking his pinky finger around mine. “Good.”

“So, what’s your secret then?” I asked after a few minutes of content mutual silence.

Tatsuya tensed and sat up. “Ah, right, I promised didn’t I?” He looked over at me and chuckled dryly. “See… I thought your secret was going to be something deep and dark, but now mine seems downright awful in comparison.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” I tried my best to reassure him.

“Very few people know this story, only those who took me into the gang, really,” Tatsuya said. He glanced at me, studying my face during a long pause.

I met his gaze. He had no reason to trust me, but I wanted him to anyway.

Finally, he spoke. “I got involved with the mob in junior high,” His laugh was bitter and painful. “I was raised by a poor single mom. She worked two jobs and still made barely enough to pay rent and feed us in this city. We lived in a bachelor apartment and I hated it so much. I would pretend that I was going to after-school clubs, but I was actually working for a small-time gangster in Shimokita. He was a loan shark and a ruthless guy. But I was fifteen, I didn’t care. I saw him like the dad I never had.”

Tatsuya paused, but I didn’t press for more. He swallowed hard. “Anyways, guys like him get snuffed out by the big syndicates all the time. Their tiny area gets absorbed and no one even bats an eye.” He sighed. “Turns out this guy had some enemies. Those enemies were the Himura-gumi, back when the current Kumicho’s father was in power. The loan shark thought I ratted him out for doing business on the edge of their turf. He came to my house when I was in school.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “He killed my mother. She had taken the day off because she wasn’t feeling well. That asshole made it look like a suicide.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Tatsuya shook his head. “So, I joined the Himura-gumi to get my revenge. He was my first kill.” He looked down at his hands as if he could still see the blood. “But I never forgave myself for what happened to my mom. She died because of me.” He tapped the tattoo on the back of his left shoulder. A red flower. “That one’s for her.”

I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or how to comfort him. “Hey,” I put my hand on his. “It’s not your fault; you were just a kid.”

Tatsuya shook his head and forced a grim smile. “That’s what everyone says. But it doesn’t take away the pain. I just wish that I could have had the chance to tell my mom that I loved her and not been such a troublemaker all the time. I should have helped her out instead of acting like a brat.”

He let out a long sigh and then looked at me. “You know, that wasn’t so bad,” He said. “Thank you for listening.” Then he added in a lower voice. “Bet you think I’m a weak-ass punk now.”

I shook my head. “No way, if anything you’re stronger than I thought,” I said, and I meant it. “A life in crime isn’t easy for anyone, whether or not we choose to be here. We’re all in it together.”

Tatsuya chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose so.” He paused, lost in thought. “Karina, what would you have done with your life if you hadn’t been born into crime?”

I sighed and settled against the pillow. “Honestly?”

“Yeah,” He said.

“You’re going to laugh.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

I sighed. “Well, I took dance when I was younger. I was pretty good. Maybe not good enough to get into the Bolshoi ballet theater, but I was one of the best in my classes.” I shrugged. “I ended up dropping out when I was a teenager because my dad didn’t want the heiress of the Nikolaev family out in public view.” I paused. “But, I always said if I could life my life how I wanted, I would start a ballet studio.”

There was a silence.

“You think it’s a dumb dream, don’t you?” I asked.