[FIC] Class Act (part 16)
Posted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 3:36 am
The impromptu stage area---and the adjacent backstage rooms---were filled by girls. Girls speaking in hushed frightened tones. Girls crying. Girls with their hands over their eyes, trying to make it all go away. What had they done wrong? They had just survived an unbelievable situation at the museum, and now this?
It was bad enough to be forced to dance in front of strangers. But to dance near naked, in a suggestive and erotic manner, with threats of terrible things hanging over their heads? What could be worse? The girl auction could be worse! The whispers were not a game. This was not a ghost story or Truth Or Dare. Everyone spoke of their greatest fears.
Would they be forced to dance at other clubs? Would they be sex slaves? Would they be abused, then killed? Maybe they would be made into drug addicts against their will, to keep another leash on them. Maybe they would even be sold to men in foreign lands.
Kaname came into her own as a leader. She settled everybody down. She couldn’t chase all the fears away, but she did put things in perspective. Things were only as bad as they allowed themselves to believe. They could make themselves sick, or they could deal with this, get through it, and move on. There was no reason for tears. There was no place for horror stories. In that regard, they might just be their own worst enemy.
“We have to keep our spirits up. We need to show everyone what we are made of. We are not mere objects or puppets unless we view ourselves as such. We are better than the disgusting creeps sitting out in the audience.” The girls were slowly coming around to her way of thinking. Their determination grew in leaps and bounds. “And, we have two things in our favor.”
“What, Kaname?” Kyouko squared her shoulders. So far, they hadn’t been through anything that was truly terrible. She would keep her fingers crossed.
“This!” She showed them a cell phone, the only one that wasn’t confiscated from their luggage or persons.
“How did you hide that? Where did you hide it?” Ryo’s eyes were wide.
“You don’t want to know. And there is NO way that I’m ever going to tell anyone.” The look on Kaname’s face did not invite further interrogation on the matter. “I’ve already put in a phone call to the local police, and into the local office for the National Police Agency. Help should be on its way.” Her statement was met with silent smiles. The girls had to be careful not to be overheard.
“What’s the second thing, Kaname?” Ren asked in a steady quiet voice, her eyes at peace. She had her own trump card to play, if things called for it. With her family’s connection to organized crime, she might be able to touch on matters of honor, or raise question of retaliation. She would pass word along to the Oyabun in the audience when she got a good idea of just what they were expected to do.
“Sousuke.” It pained Kaname to say it, but not nearly as much as it upset the girls who heard it.
“You have got to be kidding, Kaname. He’s the reason we’re all here!” Mizuke dander was up. The girls seconded her thoughts.
“Yes. It may not be today. It may not be tomorrow. But some day, he is going to pay!” Maya hoped they would all see that day. Especially Sousuke.
“I know. Believe me, if anyone knows, I do. But, we should keep a number of things in mind.” At first, Kaname couldn’t believe she was coming to Sousuke’s defense. But, the words ‘come to defense’ burned a mark of truth across her heart. She saw Mr. Mishka with his pants off. She saw Miss Krieger with a pistol in hand and murder in her eyes. She saw Sousuke with a Samurai sword.
“What? That he doesn’t mean to cause trouble? That he thought he was looking out for all of us? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t need that kind of help!” The girl from the volleyball team was not the only one who felt that way.
“No one here can argue with that. But, I’m responsible too. If I had gotten rooms at the Heian Inn, none of this would be happening.” Kaname’s face fell. When everything boiled down, the fact would remain that she failed in that regard.
“But Kaname, you worked really hard.” Kyouko rushed to her friends defense.
“Yeh. None of us did anything to help.” Ryo nodded her head.
“And, you thought you had everything all sewed up good and tight!” Mizuke wasn’t about to let Kaname put the blame on herself. That was her job.
“You could say the same things about Sousuke, too.” Ren’s soft words struck true. “Right?”
“But….” “But….” “But…” “But…” Everybody had some reason why Sousuke’s actions were totally different than Kaname’s. But, the bottom line was that the severity of the situation was what mattered to everyone.
“That brings me to my final point,” Kaname said. “There’s only one thing that Sousuke does better than getting people into trouble. That’s getting people out of trouble.” No one could deny that.
“So, what are we supposed to do, Kaname?” Kyouko was chewing on her fingernail.
“We do what they tell us to do, but we stall. Ask questions a hundered times. Mess up on purpose, without letting them catch on. Pretend to be sick to yours stomach. Pass out. Whatever it takes. We have to hope that Sousuke or the authorities can get us out of this mess. We have to give them all the time we can.”
The word was spread. The Great Delay was put in motion.
A number of the dark-suited Yakuza escorted a gaudily dressed man and a shriveled old woman into the backstage area. They were there to organize the show, post haste. The girls were told in no uncertain terms that their word was law. If they had any trouble, the enforcers would be only too happy to straighten it out---the key concept was that the Jindai girls were always wrong. The penalty for being wrong was unthinkable.
“Girls! Girls! To me, now. Girls, come here to ME!” The man spoke in a high nasal voice and a pronounced lisp. “Right now. This very INSTANT! Come come.” He clapped his hands together, then fidgeted. He had once been a a notable choreographer until he ran afoul of some ill-advised bets.
“Form a line. You will NOT be told a second time.” The rather severe woman had been a great beauty in her day. She had not dealt with the loss of her looks very well. Exotic dancing had been her life, her ticket to fame, and her way to find approval. She resented the beautiful girls their looks, and all the girls their youth. “Listen to what assignment Mr. Ishigawa gives you, then be ready to form groups when I call out.” She pushed one girl to the floor who was standing where she wanted to be.
“OK, lets’ start with you. Blue haired girl, what’s your name?” Mr. Ishigawa pointed to Kaname.
“First name or last?” Kaname asked. Everything could be a slight delay.
“First! Or both. Whatever!” The man’s eyes bulged. He did not want to answer questions. There was too much to do.
“Kaname is my first name. Kaname Chidori is my whole name. That would make Chidori my last name.” Kaname kept a straight face.
“Yes. I see. Wonderful. Well, with that color hair, we don’t dare dress you in the veils. That’s out!” he snapped his fingers. “And with those unfashionably large breasts, you could never hold the bubbles close enough. Out!” Another snap.
“Ooooh, bubbles. Too bad. I like bubbles. But wouldn’t they pop, anyway?” Kaname smiled some. She couldn’t help herself.
“NO, they won’t pop. They’re not really bubbles, they’re clear plastic balls.” The man sniffed. Too many questions.
“O, then why don’t they call it ‘The Ball Dance,’ then. I mean, if they aren’t using bubbles…” Kaname berated herself. This was no time to be having fun.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter!” The man’s voice got even higher, hard to believe.
“If you say so!” Kaname nodded her head, trying to seem very helpful.
“YES! I SAY SO!” The man started to hyperventilate.
“Is there a problem here, Mr. Ishigawa?” The stern woman walked up, a gimlet eye on Kaname.
“No. Not really. It’s just so hard dealing with dense girls. I always hated that part! I’m fine, Miss Okami. Please see to your other tasks. While the girls wait, they can be taught proper steps, and shown enticing body movements.” The choreographer did not seem overtly fond of the scowling woman. "See if any of them have particular talent with the bubbles or fans. And check to see if anyone ever took belly dancing classes."
“Very well. You are of course correct.” Miss Okami went about her business.
“OK, where were we?” Mr. Ishigawa tried to gather his thoughts.
“My name is Kaname. That’s my first name. As I told you before, my full name is…” Kaname wanted to giggle so bad it hurt not to.
“Kaname Chidori. I know!” The man’s eyes were bulging again.
“O, have we met before?”
“ARGHHH!!!” The man kicked one of the ‘bubbles’ that had rolled in his direction. It seems that all of the girls had a very hard time holding on to the plastic balls. “No veils. No bubbles. It’s GOT to be fans then. Ostrich feathers.” The man pushed Kaname away forcefully, glad to be rid of her. Kaname came back.
“I have one more question, sir.”
“WHAT???” Mr. Ishigawa didn’t care that he had sold his soul to the Yakuza. Nothing was worth this.
“Which is it? Fans, or ostrich feathers?” Kaname blinked her eyes in exaggerated fashion.
"AHHHH!!!”
************************************************************
Sousuke looked around the crowded room. Smoke danced before small spotlights, like snakes answering a piper’s call. The bar was crowded, as were the tables surrounding a custom-made runway. Most of the patrons were men, and many of them were dressed in fine clothes. A number of women were present as well, as companions of and older successful men. A small band was present, their saxophones and drums idle at the moment. Glasses clinked. Champagne corks popped. Laughter and conversations melded into one general buzz.
The professional within Sousuke was busy. There was only the one way in or out. The room violated any number of fire codes, but would be easy to defend. Conversely, unless hidden bolt-holes were present, a covert escape would be impossible. There were no elevated positions, no slots or gun ports present in the parts of the walls that he could see. A number of obvious body guards strolled leisurely around the room. Other men, essentially in cognito, looked to be serving a similar role in a less obvious manner.
“Because I am in such a fine mood tonight, I will clue you in just once. Be very careful what you say, and how you say it. If you upset the bosses, you upset me. If you upset me, you will end up sleeping with the fishes.” the scarred man spoke with a gravely voice. “It would also be wise to move slowly, watch where you step, and keep your hands where I can see them. If you make a move for that bag you carry, I will plug you, even if you are just going for a breath mint. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. The oyabun is Mr. Kazuo Yamataka. You will refer to him as ’Sir,’ or Lord Yamataka. He likes that. If you call him by his first name, last name, or Mister, I will introduce you to a world of pain. You don’t enjoy pain, do you?” The large man cracked his knuckles.
“No, Sir.”
“Fine. If you did, that would make my job messier---I’d have to jump ahead to disfigurement. The Wakagashira, Second Man, is Yoshio Guchiyama. To you he is ’Sir,’ nothing else. If he deems to speak to you, or even look at you, consider yourself blessed. If he speaks about you without addressing you first, you have my permission to start sweating. Hisayuki Taoka is the Saiko Komon, Senior Advisor. The same goes for him. I trust you will remember.” He spat .
“Yes, Sir.”
“O, and I should make something clear to you. Keep a close eye on me. Never step between me and the oyabun. I don’t want to have to mail you home to your Mommy and Daddy in small boxes. They make me pay the postage. Can you believe it?”
Sousuke chose not to answer.
“There will be a number of officers, enlisted members, and apprentices about as well. You will not be able to tell them apart. A wise young man would follow any instructions he was given, no matter who it came from.”
Sousuke nodded his head. He would play no favorites. When the time came, any man who got in his way would pay the necessary price.
The scarred Yakuza raised his arm as he approached a large cluster of tables. A fair number of black-jacketed men parted, leaving a path the tables. He walked Sousuke over to a man dressed in an immaculate European suit, a crystal goblet in his hand, and a velvet-lined goblet case open in front of him. The man swirled his wine in the goblet, taking no notice of the arrivals until the officer bowed. A wave of his hand sent the officer away to an advantageous position.
Sousuke stood quietly. He knew better than to speak out of turn. For a long time, no one took notice of him.
“You have patience, young man. That is commendable. Too many youths today do not.” The oyabun’s voice was well oiled, but sharp.
“Lord, I thank you.” Sousuke would play this like a Samurai called before his Lord. He bowed.
“Manners, too. Another trait growing in scarcity. Would you care to sit, or do you prefer standing?” The Yakuza boss waved his hand. A young woman vacated the chair next to him.
“Lord, it would be my choice to sit. I do not mind standing, but do not wish to make any move that might be misinterpreted.”
“Patience, manners, and common sense. You are a young man worth keeping an eye on---as a potential tool for me, or a possible weapon against me.” There was the sound of a crypt door closing in his voice. There was no doubt which outcome was preferable.
Sousuke simply bowed his head.
“Sit, then. Waiter, a glass of you best for the young man.” The last was directed to a man in a fancy white coat carrying a small metal tray. “The food on my table is your food. The drink on my table is your drink. Any woman at my table with a flower in her hair is your woman. I wish to express my thanks to you.” Mr. Yamataka pointed to one particular young lady, then snapped his finger. The girl, in her early twenties, sauntered over to Sousuke and began running her hand through his hair. She smelled of lotus blossoms.
“Lord, I thank you. I do not rate such honors.”
“No, you do not. I am glad that you realize this. Still, you have brought us good fortune, even if it was unintentional.” The gangster boss turned and looked directly at Sousuke for the first time. “I take it, if given the opportunity, you would ask for the girls in your class to be released from this onus?”
“I would, Lord.”
“Good. I like a man of honor. If begging would gain their release, would you beg?” There was a feral look in the man’s eyes.
“Lord, I would. I do not know how to beg, but would attempt to learn. My personal honor comes second.” Sousuke did not sound like a frightened teenager. That point was not lost on the oyabun. The girl draped herself around Sousuke’s neck. He started to perspire. The Yakusa noted and smiled.
“I see. You should know then, that you have won yourself your freedom tonight, if you wish it. You may also be offered certain opportunities, and are free to turn them down without fear.” He took a sip from his goblet. “Because your honor is at stake, and you have shown that you understand the value of honor, the girls will not be harmed. Though, their subsequent silence would prove beneficial to them.”
“I thank you, Lord.” Sousuke had to force himself to keep from jumping out of his chair when the girl ran her hands across his chest.
“I must make an exception, however. We shall hold an auction for the most desirable girls. I will limit it to five. You will assist me in the judging.” It was not a request.
“How should I do this, Lord? I am not acquainted with your preferences.” Sousuke began to feel a tightness in his chest. This was a difficult situation. If he did nothing, all but five girls would go free. No telling what might happen if he made an attempt to stop the proceedings and failed.
“I have an eye for beauty, and need no man’s suggestions in that regard. I wish to know about spirit and heart, having no stomach for the vapid or timid. You know these girls. Their fate shall come at your hand.” Mr. Yamataka watched Sousuke closely. He was purposely putting him in a difficult situation.
“I shall assist however I can, Lord. I should say, however, that I an not a great judge of women. They remain a great mystery to me.” The girl chuckled and began nibbling on Sousuke’s ear.
“What young man is?” The oyabun’s hearty laughter made a number of people at nearby tables take notice, then quickly look away. “At least you have the courage to admit it. If you like, Okita here will help you there.”
There was a skirmish taking place at the fringe of the Yakuza tables. A deep loud voice could be heard. “ I will speak with your master, you soulless hounds. This is a matter of honor. I demand satisfaction.”
Mr. Yamakata clapped his hands. The scarred officer walked to his side. “See what that is about. If it is a matter of face, you may bring the man here. If it is not, make certain he understands his mistake. I will leave all methods to your discretion.”
Not too much later a huge man walked over to the table Sousuke shared with Mr. Yakatama, Okita, and the men Sousuke had not been introduced to. He was familiar. Painfully so.
“YOU?” the robe-clad behemoth growled, looking at Sousuke. It was the Yokozuna, Taiho Kashiwado.
“Did you wish to see me, Mr. Kashiwado. Or are you here to speak to my guest?” The oyabun’s voice carried the sound of a knife being slid out of its sheath.
“I have come to speak my grievances to you.” The Sumo’s tone did not show the slightest bit of courtesy or respect. “You will call this show off immediately.”
Sousuke was surprised, but did not let it show. He had not expected any allies. What was the Yokozuna’s angle here?
“Will I? That’s certainly news to me. Being curious, I will ask you why, before having you dragged back to your table and thrown down into your chair.” The gangster raised his arm and made a short series of gestures.
“Did you do this? Was it you who sold out your fellows, and later found another way to smear my honor?” The look the huge man turned on Sousuke was dreadful. Sousuke, not bidden to speak by the oyabun, remained silent.
“You have tried my patience too far already. I will not ask again.” Mr. Yamataka’s look would have cowed a lesser man. Two of the men standing behind him drew guns.
“I was invited here to see professional dancers. What do I find? Highschool girls. Against their will! I am NOT a monk.” The Sumo let that point sink in. “However, MY name has been used to bring people here. To your show. To associate me with child abuse was dishonorable!” Two large men walked over to stand with Mr. Kashiwado---Cengiz Yilmaz and Abdull Mahmud. Both men raise their eyebrows, seeing Sousuke seated next to the Yakuza chieftain.
“O, but you are mistaken, my large Sir.” Mr. Yamataka laughed, and his underlings laughed with him. “My show? Why, I too was invited. This is Mr. Shicho’s and Mr. Katsura’s show.”
“Do not take me for a fool. Those two are dogs, afraid to run free. I know quite well whose hand holds the leash. You have done me dishonor by misusing my name. You have done me the disservice of taking me for a fool. You have shown yourself to be a liar and a coward. If you will not call off this show, my friends and I will throw each customer out one at a time, if necessary.” That was no bluff.
The temperature in the room suddenly dropped. The look in the oyabun’s eyes could have flash-frozen a super tanker. A number of underbosses and officers got to their feet. People backed away from the scene. “You say you are an honorable man. Yet you confront me in front of my friends, my guest, and my hirelings. You say that you have been dishonored, but make demands, accusations, and call me a liar.” The Yakuza boss stood. A hush came over that part of the room.
Sousuke kept a close eye out, not wanting to get caught in a crossfire. He was not about to intervene. There was nothing he could do that would further his own cause. But, he would keep an ear out for any possible opening.
“Are you going to face me like a man, then? Or will you have your lapdogs do your fighting for you.” The Yokozuna did not win any friends with that question. “Perhaps you will have them drag me out into an alley way, and handle it with guns, the way of true cowards.” Clearly, Mr. Kashiwado was drunk.
“There is no need.” Mr. Yamataka smiled. “No need to inconvenience anyone. They can shoot you here. No one will hear it. You will suddenly fall ill. We will take you to a room to see a doctor. Who will take further notice?” He made another gesture. The scar-faced officer took out a silencer and began screwing it on his pistol. His look was positively joyful.
“Lord, may I speak?” Sousuke saw a slim chance.
The oyabun gave Sousuke a look that said he was walking a very fine line. “You are my guest, and sit at my table for now. What is it you wish to say?”
“First, there is little gained in the death of an ignorant man. Once killed, he learns nothing.” Sousuke did not flinch under the glare of the Yakuza, or the look sent his way by the Sumo. “There is a story, if I may tell it Lord.”
“Yes.” The mob boss was intrigued. Nothing was lost by a short delay.
“A gnat flew around, nearly deafened by his own buzzing. He landed near the ear of a great Ox, staying there buzzing as he rested. Finally he left. Thinking himself an honorable insect, he came back to speak to the Ox. ‘I am grateful for your patience, Ox. It was kind of you to put up with my terrible racket.’ The Ox looked up and replied ‘Until you spoke to me, I did not know you were there. When you leave, I will not know you are gone.’” Sousuke waited nervously. He was not yet ready to carry out his master plan.
Mr. Yamataka sat quietly. All of his men and guests kept an eye on his face. He smiled. He guffawed. “Wonderful. You have wit too. He is less than a gnat to a man like me, no matter how important he may think he is. Take his arms!” The mobster watched as a number of burly men grabbed the Yokozuna.
“Some day, little boy, I will kill you.” Mr. Kashiwado spat at Sousuke.
“He doesn’t seem to like you, young man. What is the story behind that? I trust it will prove interesting.” The Yakuza snapped his fingers. Okita refilled his goblet before draping herself over Sousuke. Whatever she whispered in his ear had him turn as white as a sheet.
“We had misunderstandings on a number of occasions. He was set on fighting. I did not wish to be seriously injured, so I defeated him, Lord.”
“Really? You? I do not wish to slight you young man, but they must not make Yokozuna like they used to!” Everyone in ear shot began to hoot and howl. “How could a boy like you stop a mountain of a man like him?”
“I hit him hard in his private parts. Each time, Lord.”
Mr. Yamataka choked on the wine he was swallowing, spitting it out to stain the white linen table cloth. His men patted him on the back. “Good God! That must have been a sight to see.” The room exploded with laughter.
The Sumo broke free and swatted two men hard to the floor. A gangster behind him pistol-whipped him to the back of the head, bringing him to his knees. The men around him kicked him mercilessly. His comrades dare not move, as other dark-jacketed men held guns to their temples.
“Take that fat shit back to his table. If he causes any more trouble, shoot him. This is the way he shows his thanks to me, after sparing his life?” The oyabun turned back to Sousuke. “You have proven quite interesting young man. Have you given consideration to your future, what you intend to do after school? You might find Okayama much to your liking. There is always a place for a young man with courage and good sense.”
“Lord.” Sousuke bowed his head.
“Is Okita to your liking? If not, I will have another brought over. Or, if you wish, I shall give you the funds to bid at the auction. If you stay with us, you might like a familiar face.” The Yakuza laughed at the look on the girl’s face. “It seems you have made a friend, young man. Are you the jealous type, Okita? Would you mind if that boy wished to keep two women?” The girl shook her head quickly. “Good. I hear there was a blue-haired girl giving you trouble earlier. Perhaps you might like to break her in, eh?”
“Yes, Lord.” It was a good idea. He could go that route instead, ‘buying’ Kaname and setting her free. But that would leave four girls---four of his fellow students---in great trouble.
“Ah! Capital. You could have a bright future with us. This should be a night you long remember!” Mr. Yamataka lit up an expensive cigar, passed it to Sousuke, and lit another for himself. “Don’t worry, if you don’t smoke---that’s another vice you’ll be happy to learn.”
Sousuke was certain of one thing. This WAS a night he would always remember. He was quite certain that there was at least one girl who would never let him forget. Probably a lot more than one. He couldn’t wait too much longer.
First, if the girls were on the runway, they would be in danger from his plan. Second, and possibly more important, if they even took on step out here scantily clad, Sousuke’s fate would be irreversibly sealed. He would be safer with the Yakuza. At least the Boss has taken a liking to me. That should loosen up the security some, and make my move easier.
There was another commotion. This time, a path was forming in the sea of people. A man was demanding to see the oyabun.
“Take me to Kazuo, now! Find out if there is a doctor in the house. Bring me a number of enforcers, I want to borrow them for a job. GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!”
It was a night for reunions. The new arrival had managed to suture himself temporarily with a sewing kit. He had stolen a fine set of silk robes to wear, but there were still some blood stains in the groin area. He pushed people out of his way as he walked up to the Mob chieftain’s table. It was Mr. Kimutaku. Teiichi Murisato. The Golden Gecko.
“Suki darling!” Mr. Kimutaku’s eyes went wide, then narrowed to nasty slits. “What a wonderful coincidence finding you here. We have some matters to settle. You’ve saved me a lot of trouble!” He walked over and patted Sousuke’s cheek, after pushing Okita off of him. “But, you always were such a thoughtful boy….”
“Teiichi, what is the meaning of all this. I didn’t expect to see you at a girlie show.” Mr. Yamakata said nothing of the earlier ‘Kazuo.’
“It’s time I call in our blood debt, Kazuo. The word on the street said you'd be here tonight. I need a safe way out of the country. Discrete medical care, too.” As Teiichi Murisato, he had helped the current oyabun secure his grip on the position, by means of sizeable contributions and a couple of untraceable assassinations.
“But you also have something I want even more.” He ran his hand through Sousuke’s hair.
************************************************************
Mr. Ishigawa was ready to strip, put on a pair of garters, grab a couple of Ostrich feathers, and streak out on the runway himself. He was not a dancer, and had no secret dreams. No, that act would probably get him shot and put out of his misery! Such an inviting thought….
Despite the iron hand of Miss Okami and the presence of armed Yakuza, it was turning out to be impossible to teach these girls. He had never met such a group of severely mental challenged ladies in his entire life. He watched with disbelief as one girl, told to work with the feathers, tried to jump off of a ladder, acting as if they were wings. Her cry of ‘But why didn’t it WORK?’ had almost sent him into hysterics. Another girl kept trying to stand on one of the bubbles, falling off and ending up caught in the curtain ropes again and again. ‘I saw bears do this on TV’ was her explanation. And that blue haired girl! She showed remarkable enthusiasm. That was a bad thing. Every time one of the girls had a problem, that Chidori girl would run over to help her. It took twice as long to set them straight after that.
Finally, with so many people complaining about the delay, an underboss came back to check on the progress.
“Do you realize the seriousness of your situation?” The small man with the prosthetic leg was flanked by two men with the size and build of dumpsters. One held a nightstick. The other stroked a pump action shotgun.
Mr. Ishigawa’s head bobbed up and down like that of a turkey. He wrung his hands together, feeling suddenly nauseous. “Y-Y-Yes, Sir. But, these girls. They are so stupid.”
“I know HE is an idiot….” The underboss pointed to the choreographer. “But, I thought YOU had more sense than this.” The look he gave Miss Okami made her tremble. It took a lot to get her scared.
“Gun!” The underboss held out a hand. The man with the shotgun got there first. “My guess is that the girls have been playing you as fools. Not a surprise, really. But, I had hoped for better.”
“But…” Mr. Ishigawa never got to say what he intended to say.
“SHUT UP! Before I shut you up.” The underboss walked over to Kyouko. “Hello, cutie pie. Are you stupid?” He put the muzzle of the shotgun up against Kyouko’s chin.
“N-N-No!” Kyouko gasped, her eyes going big.
“Good. How about you?” He did the same thing to Ryo.
“No. Not me.” Ryo started to shiver when the man walked on to the next girl.
“You?” Maya looked ready to run, but stood her ground.
“No, sir!”
“Are you sure?” The underboss smiled, showing a diamond-studded gold tooth.
“Yes, sir. I mean I’m not stupid….” Maya thought her heart would stop.
“Not even as a favor to me?” The small nasty man pumped the shotgun.
“No!”
“Well, that’s good. Really good. Do we have ANY stupid girls here?” He looked about the room. No one spoke. No one moved.
“Well, Miss Okami, see how easy that was? I will leave them in your capable hands, then. You have fifteen minutes to teach them some kind of routine. They have five minutes after that to get into their costumes. It would be in their better interest to be ready when I return. But, if anyone gets shot, you and Mr. Ishigawa will be first. Until then. I hear a drink calling my name.” He ejected two shells from the gun and handed them to the one-time exotic dancer. “Find a place for these on one girl’s costume. It will spice things up. We have a couple of hitmen in the audience tonight.” The man laughed as he walked away. Those would also serve as a concrete reminder.
Kaname sighed. After all that, there was no longer any great benefit to playing dumb. At least they had bought some time. The crushing weight of inevitability began to wear heavy on the girls, minute by passing minute. Where were the police? Where was Sousuke? If he was out there eating or drinking…if he was going to wait until AFTER the show to make some move…if he was flirting with some girl instead of working to save these girls…she’d kill him TWICE!!!
The fifteen minutes passed. Now, they only had five minutes left---it was that time.
“OK, line up girls. NOW!!!” Miss Okami pushed a number of girls into line.
“Here are your outfits. Put them on. If you can’t figure out how by yourself, I’ll call that splendid man with a gun to assist you.” Mr. Ischigawa started passing out skimpy clothing.
Kaname got fox ears, a thong, a long bushy tail, and a pair of propeller tassels. Just touching them made her angry. Just you wait, Sousuke Sagara. Just you wait…. Two huge white feathers finished her get-up.
Kyouko stared numbly at a glitter-covered pair of pasties. She had bunny ears and a large fluffy tail. The bubble she carried was nearly as big as she was. What was she going to say when her mother asked her ‘what did you do on your school trip, dear?’
Ryo, Like Kaname, had fans. She had four smaller ones.
Mizuke was dressed up like Salome, destined to do the veil dance. She almost bit Mr. Ishigawa when he told her to make it the dance of the Six veils, leaving one on her face.
Maya had cat ears and tail, plus a much smaller bubble than Kyouko’s.
Ren was dressed as a belly dancer. She had a fair amount of clothing to wear. ‘The more to take off, my dear…’ a helpful Miss Okami laughed. ‘It'll make a woman of you. Did wonders for me….’
“Fan dancers, to ME!” Mr. Ishigawa started walking. “You girls are up first. Step over to those dressing rooms.” Group by group, he led the girls to the places where they would change into their costumes. Most of them would simply disrobe on the stage behind the curtain.
“FIVE MINUTES TO SHOW TIME!!!” Miss Okami sounded excited. Those girls would get what was coming to them!
“Shake’m if you got’em ladies!” Mr. Ishigawa mopped his brow. He needed a couple of aspirin in the worst way. There would be no review written in the daily papers. The Yakuza reviewed things in a much different fashion.
************************************************************
There was an angry noise amongst the enlisted Yakuza and the apprentices. An officer walked over to Mr. Kimutaku, a gun in his hand. “You will address the oyabun with the respect he deserves! We will allow no slight to go unpunished.”
“Your loyalty is admirable. That is why you are still alive.” Only Sousuke had tracked the move. A slender knife blade pricked the neck of the irate gangster. “This matter does not concern you. Your boss and I are old acquaintances. Do NOT speak to me again.” Mr. Kimutaku’s words carried the snap and bite of a whip.
“Step down!” Mr. Yamataka’s order was equally crisp.
“It’s good to see that you remember your friends, Kazuo,” Mr. Kimutaku laughed. “A lesser man might have let his position go to his head.” He took his knife and began pairing his finger nails, flicking the clippings towards toward the mob boss. “Of course, a lesser man might also have been discovered dead of unknown causes, a day or so later.” His high-pitched chuckling was lost in the general crowd noise.
“Are you threatening me, Teiichi?” The oyabun’s voice rose as the man sat taller in his chair. Each armed Yakuza drew his weapon and aimed it at the one time cat burglar.
“Of course not! Heavens, don’t be so paranoid. I was just making my usual charming conversation. Right, Suki?” He smiled, seeing the sullen look on Sousuke’s face.
Mr. Yamataka steepled his hands, keeping his eyes on the flamboyant assassin. When he touched a finger to his nose, his men all lowered their weapons, but did not holster them. “You spoke of debt. You need my help. What kind of trouble are you in, and what relationship does this young man have with you?”
“HEY, WHERE THE F@CK ARE THE GIRLS?!!!”
Mr. Kimutaku sniffed.
“Hoji, find the man who shouted.” Mr. Yamataka nodded to one of his officers. “Teach him proper decorum.” He looked to another man. “Kazumura, check on the girls.” Finished with his orders, he turned back to silently regard Mr. Kimutaku.
Sousuke’s jaw tightened.
“Let’s just say I ran into a little trouble at the museum. We had a disagreement about ownership of various items. You know how the authorities tend to over react.” He brushed his hands together. “The matter between that lovely young man and I is personal.”
The Yakuza boss wrinkled his nose. “Is he your…lover?”
“O, Heavens no! Quite a shame though, if you ask me. Let’s just say that Suki was a mite disrespectful, and later went on to cause me a frightful bit of discomfort.”
“I see.” The oyabun noted the blood stains on his acquaintance’s clothing. “I have a small debt to the young man, having offered him a position. However, our debt is greater, and goes further back. What is it that you would ask of me, Teiichi?”
“Nothing too burdensome, I assure you. I merely wish to kill him. And, if you are feeling particularly generous, there is a blue-haired girl who would benefit from my instruction.” The flamboyant killer spoke as if he were asking for a lump of sugar for his tea.
Mr. Yamataka spread his arms wide. “I will not stand in your way.”
“That is most unfortunate,” Sousuke said. He kicked his bag in front of the top gangster’s chair.
“Yes, I must apologize for this of course.” The oyabun smiled effusively. “I do appreciate the service you provided me. But, I should point out that my promise regarding the girls will end at your death.”
“That too shall prove your undoing.” Sousuke held up the item in his hand for everyone to see.
The dead man’s switch was a simple concept. If Sousuke released the trigger he held down on the detonator, a radio signal would cause a bomb to explode. Pushing the button on top would have the same dramatic effect.
“What is that? What are you fools waiting for, GET IT!” Mr. Yakatama’ command went unheeded. The more experienced Yakuza held their fellows back. They knew exactly what the device was.
“Just what type of game are you playing, beautiful boy?” Mr. Kimutaku dagger disappeared into his voluminous sleeves. He placed his hands in his pockets---when he withdrew them, he was once more wearing his taloned gloves.
“Mr. Yamataka,” Sousuke’s manner of address spoke volumes. “There are explosives in my bag. I release this trigger, and the Yakuza loses a fair number of its top ranking regional members. I push the button, and the same thing occurs. We will begin negotiations on MY terms.”
“Don’t be stupid, Kazuo. No doubt the churlish little brat is bluffing. He’s taking you for a fool!” Mr. Kimutaku laughed. “Check his bag.”
The oyabun looked at Sousuke, angry, and with a question on his face.
“You there, with the scar.” Sousuke waved the detonator towards the Yakuza officer who had led him into the room. “It was you who allowed me to keep the bag with me. You may be the one to look.” Sousuke did not smile. Still, it was good to repay a debt.
The man in question flinched, then turned a murderous glare on Sousuke.”
“Do so, Sanoske.” Mr. Yamataka snapped. “It will be to your benefit as well as mine if you do not find a bomb.” the double meaning to that statement was quite clear.
After giving Sousuke one more withering glance, the mobster did as he was instructed. Carefully, and very slowly, he unzipped Sousuke’s bag. As he tock items out, he described what he found.
“Socks…slacks…T-shirt…all damp. Another shirt, smelling of beer.” The man threw each item on the floor.
“My, my, my. Step back everybody. Any one of those might explode at any moment!” Mr. Kimutaku clapped his hands together.
“Keep looking!” The mob chieftain grunted.
“Clean shirt…dry pants…more socks…underwear…shaving cream…razor…tooth brush…toenail clippers.”
“TOENAIL CLIPPERS??? O, my God. If I had known how truly dangerous you are, Suki dear, I never would have threatened you!” Even wincing from a sudden flash of pain, Mr. Kimutaku managed a smile. A number of the Yakuza laughed.
“Continue!” The oyabun began to think it was just a con.
“More socks…a roll of bandages…antiseptic…Glock 17...” The scarred man stopped. He looked at the object in his hand as if it were a poisonous snake. He held the oistol up for everyone to see.
“Any more jokes, Teiichi?” Mr. Yamataka didn’t even bother looking at the wounded man. He nodded to his subordinate.
“Grenades. Night vision scope. Combat knife. Ammo clips. Steyr TMP….”
“Place that over by my foot” Sousuke ordered.
“Lord?” The gangster looked to his boss.
“Do it. Best not antagonize him at the moment.”
The Yakuza officer placed the submachine gun by Sousuke’s foot as instructed. He went back to the bag. “There is a large bundle, plastic-wrapped. It’s C4.” The man swallowed.
“C4???” The oyabun dropped his goblet. It shattered against the floor.
“Yes, Sir. Enough to take out every bank vault in Okayama, two times over.” The gangster had started to sweat.
Mr. Yamataka stared at Sousuke in disbelief.
“Such a precocious boy!” Mr. Kimutaku chirped. “Do Mommy and Daddy know what kind of toys you have?” His face took on a much more serious look when he turned to speak to the mob boss. “Kazuo, I think he’s bluffing. I don’t think the detonator is armed. I doubt the boy actually has some kind of death wish. I fought him. He did his best to stay alive.”
“SEND OUT THE DAMN GIRLS!!!” The crowd was becoming restless. The men caught in their own private showdown took little notice.
The oyabun looked at Sousuke and smiled a sly smile. “Teiichi may be right. If you detonate the bag, you die too.”
“Before, I was not fighting for myself. I was fighting for my classmates.” I was fighting for Kaname. Sousuke paused to let his words sink in.
“Yes. Your classmates. That does bring up an interesting dilemma, does it not? If you kill me, my men will kill the girls.” Mr. Yamataka had a calculating look on his face. “Stalemate, right?”
“By whose order?” Sousuke asked, unimpressed. “Most of their leaders will be scattered in small pieces across the room. The last thing the survivors would be concerned with is a group of high school girls.”
Mr. Yamataka blanched.
“I think you met your match, Kazuo.” Mr. Kimutaku laughed and blew Sousuke a kiss. “Either shoot him, or run away. I’ll gladly take my chances.”
“I will NOT run like some coward!” The oyabun said with some heat. “But, I will simply walk away. What will you do then, young man. Blow us all up?” He did two things then. He started walking. He made a small chopping motion with his hand.
Men behind Sousuke lunged forward, intent on holding his hand tightly closed. Their presence had not gone unnoticed. Sousuke kicked the TMP up, caught it in his hand, and fired behind him without looking. The three men fell to the ground in agony, their knees torn apart.
“You may take three more steps. After that, I shoot you.” Sousuke’s promise stopped the mob boss in his tracks.
Two inexperience gunmen, moved by the rush of emotion, swung their pistols towards Sousuke. They had forgotten about the detonator. Sousuke put a bullet in each of their foreheads. The crowd---already startled by the first shots---became unruly. Too many people wanted to see what was going on. More wanted to make it to the exit. Unable to shoot Sousuke, the Yakuza used the threat of their guns to keep the crowd back.
“What is it that you want?” Mr. Yamataka asked. “The girls? Your own safety? I will promise you those, if you let me go.”
“We have a number of matters to attend to.” Sousuke said. “This will be done according to my instructions. First, all of your men---including those dressed in common clothes, over by the bar---will drop their guns on that table, then climb up on the runway.” Sousuke indicated a particular table. “I will enlist help to see that they are truly unarmed. Any tricks, and you are the first one I shoot.”
“Yes. OK. They will do so.” Mr. Yamataka had decided to play it like the tide, slow but strong. He could leave now, but he would send his strength rushing back in when the time was right. First, he would survive. Then, he would have retribution. If a number of his men died in the process, they would be acceptable losses. At his signal, the gangsters began doing as Sousuke ordered.
“What, have you gone craven, Kazuo. Are you going to let a boy send you running, tail between your legs?” Mr. Kimutaku sneered. It looked as if he would need to take care of things himself. That was fine by him.
“SHUT UP!!!” Mr. Yamataka slapped the assassin hard across his cheek. He spoke harshly to his men. “We cannot shoot the boy. We can shoot you.” He motioned to the wounded man. “If he moves, shoot him. If he says another word, send him to his ancestors.”
The look in Mr. Kimutaku’s eyes would have caused Death himself to pause.
“Anything else, young man?” The oyabun looked Sousuke in the eyes. He would bend in this breeze, but not break.
“Yes. A matter of honor. You have dishonored the members of my class, shaming them beyond reason. That will be absolved when they return safely to their lives. There are others you have done wrong, and we shall now deal with that. Send one of your men. Ask Yokozuna Kashiwoda to come here. Inform him that it would be best if all of his companions came as well.”
“WHAT? That is no business of yours!” Mr. Yamataka lost his composure momentarily.
“That is incorrect. It is not open for discussion.”
Taiho Kashiwoda walked up. He was accompanied by the other two champions. A large number of massive men accompanied them. As it turned out, the Yokozuna had brought his entire stable with him. “Have you not insulted me enough for one night?” he asked the oyabun.
“I did not summon you. He did.” Mr. Yamataka nodded towards Sousuke.
“You?” The Sumo asked Sousuke. His face hardened.
“Yes.” Sousuke bowed. “I will first apologize for the dishonor done you.”
“You shoot a man where a man should never be shot? You disgrace a Yokozuna? And you expect your apology to be accepted?” Mr. Kashiwado’s anger was growing.
“No. I do not apologize for that.” Sousuke looked the Sumo in the eyes. “That was not of my doing. I did not initiate either confrontation. If you were challenged, would you back down?”
“I would not.”
“Then we understand one another. A mistake of mine did cost you face, however. I would correct that mistake, if I may. This event was arranged tonight because of my stupidity. As your name was wrongly used to promote it, you suffered dishonor. I would not have that be so.” Sousuke bowed again. “You will find these men to be cooperative for the moment.”
The Yokozuna stood silently, looking at Sousuke for what seemed like an eternity. The he faced the oyabun. “I approached you without honor before. There is no excuse for that, regardless of the truth of my claims. For that I ask your pardon. In return, I would like you to cancel this show, and announce that I am the reason for the closure. By doing that, you will pay your debt to me.” He bowed to the mob boss.
“It shall be done.” Mr. Yamataka bowed in return.
************************************************************
End of pt 16
It was bad enough to be forced to dance in front of strangers. But to dance near naked, in a suggestive and erotic manner, with threats of terrible things hanging over their heads? What could be worse? The girl auction could be worse! The whispers were not a game. This was not a ghost story or Truth Or Dare. Everyone spoke of their greatest fears.
Would they be forced to dance at other clubs? Would they be sex slaves? Would they be abused, then killed? Maybe they would be made into drug addicts against their will, to keep another leash on them. Maybe they would even be sold to men in foreign lands.
Kaname came into her own as a leader. She settled everybody down. She couldn’t chase all the fears away, but she did put things in perspective. Things were only as bad as they allowed themselves to believe. They could make themselves sick, or they could deal with this, get through it, and move on. There was no reason for tears. There was no place for horror stories. In that regard, they might just be their own worst enemy.
“We have to keep our spirits up. We need to show everyone what we are made of. We are not mere objects or puppets unless we view ourselves as such. We are better than the disgusting creeps sitting out in the audience.” The girls were slowly coming around to her way of thinking. Their determination grew in leaps and bounds. “And, we have two things in our favor.”
“What, Kaname?” Kyouko squared her shoulders. So far, they hadn’t been through anything that was truly terrible. She would keep her fingers crossed.
“This!” She showed them a cell phone, the only one that wasn’t confiscated from their luggage or persons.
“How did you hide that? Where did you hide it?” Ryo’s eyes were wide.
“You don’t want to know. And there is NO way that I’m ever going to tell anyone.” The look on Kaname’s face did not invite further interrogation on the matter. “I’ve already put in a phone call to the local police, and into the local office for the National Police Agency. Help should be on its way.” Her statement was met with silent smiles. The girls had to be careful not to be overheard.
“What’s the second thing, Kaname?” Ren asked in a steady quiet voice, her eyes at peace. She had her own trump card to play, if things called for it. With her family’s connection to organized crime, she might be able to touch on matters of honor, or raise question of retaliation. She would pass word along to the Oyabun in the audience when she got a good idea of just what they were expected to do.
“Sousuke.” It pained Kaname to say it, but not nearly as much as it upset the girls who heard it.
“You have got to be kidding, Kaname. He’s the reason we’re all here!” Mizuke dander was up. The girls seconded her thoughts.
“Yes. It may not be today. It may not be tomorrow. But some day, he is going to pay!” Maya hoped they would all see that day. Especially Sousuke.
“I know. Believe me, if anyone knows, I do. But, we should keep a number of things in mind.” At first, Kaname couldn’t believe she was coming to Sousuke’s defense. But, the words ‘come to defense’ burned a mark of truth across her heart. She saw Mr. Mishka with his pants off. She saw Miss Krieger with a pistol in hand and murder in her eyes. She saw Sousuke with a Samurai sword.
“What? That he doesn’t mean to cause trouble? That he thought he was looking out for all of us? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t need that kind of help!” The girl from the volleyball team was not the only one who felt that way.
“No one here can argue with that. But, I’m responsible too. If I had gotten rooms at the Heian Inn, none of this would be happening.” Kaname’s face fell. When everything boiled down, the fact would remain that she failed in that regard.
“But Kaname, you worked really hard.” Kyouko rushed to her friends defense.
“Yeh. None of us did anything to help.” Ryo nodded her head.
“And, you thought you had everything all sewed up good and tight!” Mizuke wasn’t about to let Kaname put the blame on herself. That was her job.
“You could say the same things about Sousuke, too.” Ren’s soft words struck true. “Right?”
“But….” “But….” “But…” “But…” Everybody had some reason why Sousuke’s actions were totally different than Kaname’s. But, the bottom line was that the severity of the situation was what mattered to everyone.
“That brings me to my final point,” Kaname said. “There’s only one thing that Sousuke does better than getting people into trouble. That’s getting people out of trouble.” No one could deny that.
“So, what are we supposed to do, Kaname?” Kyouko was chewing on her fingernail.
“We do what they tell us to do, but we stall. Ask questions a hundered times. Mess up on purpose, without letting them catch on. Pretend to be sick to yours stomach. Pass out. Whatever it takes. We have to hope that Sousuke or the authorities can get us out of this mess. We have to give them all the time we can.”
The word was spread. The Great Delay was put in motion.
A number of the dark-suited Yakuza escorted a gaudily dressed man and a shriveled old woman into the backstage area. They were there to organize the show, post haste. The girls were told in no uncertain terms that their word was law. If they had any trouble, the enforcers would be only too happy to straighten it out---the key concept was that the Jindai girls were always wrong. The penalty for being wrong was unthinkable.
“Girls! Girls! To me, now. Girls, come here to ME!” The man spoke in a high nasal voice and a pronounced lisp. “Right now. This very INSTANT! Come come.” He clapped his hands together, then fidgeted. He had once been a a notable choreographer until he ran afoul of some ill-advised bets.
“Form a line. You will NOT be told a second time.” The rather severe woman had been a great beauty in her day. She had not dealt with the loss of her looks very well. Exotic dancing had been her life, her ticket to fame, and her way to find approval. She resented the beautiful girls their looks, and all the girls their youth. “Listen to what assignment Mr. Ishigawa gives you, then be ready to form groups when I call out.” She pushed one girl to the floor who was standing where she wanted to be.
“OK, lets’ start with you. Blue haired girl, what’s your name?” Mr. Ishigawa pointed to Kaname.
“First name or last?” Kaname asked. Everything could be a slight delay.
“First! Or both. Whatever!” The man’s eyes bulged. He did not want to answer questions. There was too much to do.
“Kaname is my first name. Kaname Chidori is my whole name. That would make Chidori my last name.” Kaname kept a straight face.
“Yes. I see. Wonderful. Well, with that color hair, we don’t dare dress you in the veils. That’s out!” he snapped his fingers. “And with those unfashionably large breasts, you could never hold the bubbles close enough. Out!” Another snap.
“Ooooh, bubbles. Too bad. I like bubbles. But wouldn’t they pop, anyway?” Kaname smiled some. She couldn’t help herself.
“NO, they won’t pop. They’re not really bubbles, they’re clear plastic balls.” The man sniffed. Too many questions.
“O, then why don’t they call it ‘The Ball Dance,’ then. I mean, if they aren’t using bubbles…” Kaname berated herself. This was no time to be having fun.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter!” The man’s voice got even higher, hard to believe.
“If you say so!” Kaname nodded her head, trying to seem very helpful.
“YES! I SAY SO!” The man started to hyperventilate.
“Is there a problem here, Mr. Ishigawa?” The stern woman walked up, a gimlet eye on Kaname.
“No. Not really. It’s just so hard dealing with dense girls. I always hated that part! I’m fine, Miss Okami. Please see to your other tasks. While the girls wait, they can be taught proper steps, and shown enticing body movements.” The choreographer did not seem overtly fond of the scowling woman. "See if any of them have particular talent with the bubbles or fans. And check to see if anyone ever took belly dancing classes."
“Very well. You are of course correct.” Miss Okami went about her business.
“OK, where were we?” Mr. Ishigawa tried to gather his thoughts.
“My name is Kaname. That’s my first name. As I told you before, my full name is…” Kaname wanted to giggle so bad it hurt not to.
“Kaname Chidori. I know!” The man’s eyes were bulging again.
“O, have we met before?”
“ARGHHH!!!” The man kicked one of the ‘bubbles’ that had rolled in his direction. It seems that all of the girls had a very hard time holding on to the plastic balls. “No veils. No bubbles. It’s GOT to be fans then. Ostrich feathers.” The man pushed Kaname away forcefully, glad to be rid of her. Kaname came back.
“I have one more question, sir.”
“WHAT???” Mr. Ishigawa didn’t care that he had sold his soul to the Yakuza. Nothing was worth this.
“Which is it? Fans, or ostrich feathers?” Kaname blinked her eyes in exaggerated fashion.
"AHHHH!!!”
************************************************************
Sousuke looked around the crowded room. Smoke danced before small spotlights, like snakes answering a piper’s call. The bar was crowded, as were the tables surrounding a custom-made runway. Most of the patrons were men, and many of them were dressed in fine clothes. A number of women were present as well, as companions of and older successful men. A small band was present, their saxophones and drums idle at the moment. Glasses clinked. Champagne corks popped. Laughter and conversations melded into one general buzz.
The professional within Sousuke was busy. There was only the one way in or out. The room violated any number of fire codes, but would be easy to defend. Conversely, unless hidden bolt-holes were present, a covert escape would be impossible. There were no elevated positions, no slots or gun ports present in the parts of the walls that he could see. A number of obvious body guards strolled leisurely around the room. Other men, essentially in cognito, looked to be serving a similar role in a less obvious manner.
“Because I am in such a fine mood tonight, I will clue you in just once. Be very careful what you say, and how you say it. If you upset the bosses, you upset me. If you upset me, you will end up sleeping with the fishes.” the scarred man spoke with a gravely voice. “It would also be wise to move slowly, watch where you step, and keep your hands where I can see them. If you make a move for that bag you carry, I will plug you, even if you are just going for a breath mint. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. The oyabun is Mr. Kazuo Yamataka. You will refer to him as ’Sir,’ or Lord Yamataka. He likes that. If you call him by his first name, last name, or Mister, I will introduce you to a world of pain. You don’t enjoy pain, do you?” The large man cracked his knuckles.
“No, Sir.”
“Fine. If you did, that would make my job messier---I’d have to jump ahead to disfigurement. The Wakagashira, Second Man, is Yoshio Guchiyama. To you he is ’Sir,’ nothing else. If he deems to speak to you, or even look at you, consider yourself blessed. If he speaks about you without addressing you first, you have my permission to start sweating. Hisayuki Taoka is the Saiko Komon, Senior Advisor. The same goes for him. I trust you will remember.” He spat .
“Yes, Sir.”
“O, and I should make something clear to you. Keep a close eye on me. Never step between me and the oyabun. I don’t want to have to mail you home to your Mommy and Daddy in small boxes. They make me pay the postage. Can you believe it?”
Sousuke chose not to answer.
“There will be a number of officers, enlisted members, and apprentices about as well. You will not be able to tell them apart. A wise young man would follow any instructions he was given, no matter who it came from.”
Sousuke nodded his head. He would play no favorites. When the time came, any man who got in his way would pay the necessary price.
The scarred Yakuza raised his arm as he approached a large cluster of tables. A fair number of black-jacketed men parted, leaving a path the tables. He walked Sousuke over to a man dressed in an immaculate European suit, a crystal goblet in his hand, and a velvet-lined goblet case open in front of him. The man swirled his wine in the goblet, taking no notice of the arrivals until the officer bowed. A wave of his hand sent the officer away to an advantageous position.
Sousuke stood quietly. He knew better than to speak out of turn. For a long time, no one took notice of him.
“You have patience, young man. That is commendable. Too many youths today do not.” The oyabun’s voice was well oiled, but sharp.
“Lord, I thank you.” Sousuke would play this like a Samurai called before his Lord. He bowed.
“Manners, too. Another trait growing in scarcity. Would you care to sit, or do you prefer standing?” The Yakuza boss waved his hand. A young woman vacated the chair next to him.
“Lord, it would be my choice to sit. I do not mind standing, but do not wish to make any move that might be misinterpreted.”
“Patience, manners, and common sense. You are a young man worth keeping an eye on---as a potential tool for me, or a possible weapon against me.” There was the sound of a crypt door closing in his voice. There was no doubt which outcome was preferable.
Sousuke simply bowed his head.
“Sit, then. Waiter, a glass of you best for the young man.” The last was directed to a man in a fancy white coat carrying a small metal tray. “The food on my table is your food. The drink on my table is your drink. Any woman at my table with a flower in her hair is your woman. I wish to express my thanks to you.” Mr. Yamataka pointed to one particular young lady, then snapped his finger. The girl, in her early twenties, sauntered over to Sousuke and began running her hand through his hair. She smelled of lotus blossoms.
“Lord, I thank you. I do not rate such honors.”
“No, you do not. I am glad that you realize this. Still, you have brought us good fortune, even if it was unintentional.” The gangster boss turned and looked directly at Sousuke for the first time. “I take it, if given the opportunity, you would ask for the girls in your class to be released from this onus?”
“I would, Lord.”
“Good. I like a man of honor. If begging would gain their release, would you beg?” There was a feral look in the man’s eyes.
“Lord, I would. I do not know how to beg, but would attempt to learn. My personal honor comes second.” Sousuke did not sound like a frightened teenager. That point was not lost on the oyabun. The girl draped herself around Sousuke’s neck. He started to perspire. The Yakusa noted and smiled.
“I see. You should know then, that you have won yourself your freedom tonight, if you wish it. You may also be offered certain opportunities, and are free to turn them down without fear.” He took a sip from his goblet. “Because your honor is at stake, and you have shown that you understand the value of honor, the girls will not be harmed. Though, their subsequent silence would prove beneficial to them.”
“I thank you, Lord.” Sousuke had to force himself to keep from jumping out of his chair when the girl ran her hands across his chest.
“I must make an exception, however. We shall hold an auction for the most desirable girls. I will limit it to five. You will assist me in the judging.” It was not a request.
“How should I do this, Lord? I am not acquainted with your preferences.” Sousuke began to feel a tightness in his chest. This was a difficult situation. If he did nothing, all but five girls would go free. No telling what might happen if he made an attempt to stop the proceedings and failed.
“I have an eye for beauty, and need no man’s suggestions in that regard. I wish to know about spirit and heart, having no stomach for the vapid or timid. You know these girls. Their fate shall come at your hand.” Mr. Yamataka watched Sousuke closely. He was purposely putting him in a difficult situation.
“I shall assist however I can, Lord. I should say, however, that I an not a great judge of women. They remain a great mystery to me.” The girl chuckled and began nibbling on Sousuke’s ear.
“What young man is?” The oyabun’s hearty laughter made a number of people at nearby tables take notice, then quickly look away. “At least you have the courage to admit it. If you like, Okita here will help you there.”
There was a skirmish taking place at the fringe of the Yakuza tables. A deep loud voice could be heard. “ I will speak with your master, you soulless hounds. This is a matter of honor. I demand satisfaction.”
Mr. Yamakata clapped his hands. The scarred officer walked to his side. “See what that is about. If it is a matter of face, you may bring the man here. If it is not, make certain he understands his mistake. I will leave all methods to your discretion.”
Not too much later a huge man walked over to the table Sousuke shared with Mr. Yakatama, Okita, and the men Sousuke had not been introduced to. He was familiar. Painfully so.
“YOU?” the robe-clad behemoth growled, looking at Sousuke. It was the Yokozuna, Taiho Kashiwado.
“Did you wish to see me, Mr. Kashiwado. Or are you here to speak to my guest?” The oyabun’s voice carried the sound of a knife being slid out of its sheath.
“I have come to speak my grievances to you.” The Sumo’s tone did not show the slightest bit of courtesy or respect. “You will call this show off immediately.”
Sousuke was surprised, but did not let it show. He had not expected any allies. What was the Yokozuna’s angle here?
“Will I? That’s certainly news to me. Being curious, I will ask you why, before having you dragged back to your table and thrown down into your chair.” The gangster raised his arm and made a short series of gestures.
“Did you do this? Was it you who sold out your fellows, and later found another way to smear my honor?” The look the huge man turned on Sousuke was dreadful. Sousuke, not bidden to speak by the oyabun, remained silent.
“You have tried my patience too far already. I will not ask again.” Mr. Yamataka’s look would have cowed a lesser man. Two of the men standing behind him drew guns.
“I was invited here to see professional dancers. What do I find? Highschool girls. Against their will! I am NOT a monk.” The Sumo let that point sink in. “However, MY name has been used to bring people here. To your show. To associate me with child abuse was dishonorable!” Two large men walked over to stand with Mr. Kashiwado---Cengiz Yilmaz and Abdull Mahmud. Both men raise their eyebrows, seeing Sousuke seated next to the Yakuza chieftain.
“O, but you are mistaken, my large Sir.” Mr. Yamataka laughed, and his underlings laughed with him. “My show? Why, I too was invited. This is Mr. Shicho’s and Mr. Katsura’s show.”
“Do not take me for a fool. Those two are dogs, afraid to run free. I know quite well whose hand holds the leash. You have done me dishonor by misusing my name. You have done me the disservice of taking me for a fool. You have shown yourself to be a liar and a coward. If you will not call off this show, my friends and I will throw each customer out one at a time, if necessary.” That was no bluff.
The temperature in the room suddenly dropped. The look in the oyabun’s eyes could have flash-frozen a super tanker. A number of underbosses and officers got to their feet. People backed away from the scene. “You say you are an honorable man. Yet you confront me in front of my friends, my guest, and my hirelings. You say that you have been dishonored, but make demands, accusations, and call me a liar.” The Yakuza boss stood. A hush came over that part of the room.
Sousuke kept a close eye out, not wanting to get caught in a crossfire. He was not about to intervene. There was nothing he could do that would further his own cause. But, he would keep an ear out for any possible opening.
“Are you going to face me like a man, then? Or will you have your lapdogs do your fighting for you.” The Yokozuna did not win any friends with that question. “Perhaps you will have them drag me out into an alley way, and handle it with guns, the way of true cowards.” Clearly, Mr. Kashiwado was drunk.
“There is no need.” Mr. Yamataka smiled. “No need to inconvenience anyone. They can shoot you here. No one will hear it. You will suddenly fall ill. We will take you to a room to see a doctor. Who will take further notice?” He made another gesture. The scar-faced officer took out a silencer and began screwing it on his pistol. His look was positively joyful.
“Lord, may I speak?” Sousuke saw a slim chance.
The oyabun gave Sousuke a look that said he was walking a very fine line. “You are my guest, and sit at my table for now. What is it you wish to say?”
“First, there is little gained in the death of an ignorant man. Once killed, he learns nothing.” Sousuke did not flinch under the glare of the Yakuza, or the look sent his way by the Sumo. “There is a story, if I may tell it Lord.”
“Yes.” The mob boss was intrigued. Nothing was lost by a short delay.
“A gnat flew around, nearly deafened by his own buzzing. He landed near the ear of a great Ox, staying there buzzing as he rested. Finally he left. Thinking himself an honorable insect, he came back to speak to the Ox. ‘I am grateful for your patience, Ox. It was kind of you to put up with my terrible racket.’ The Ox looked up and replied ‘Until you spoke to me, I did not know you were there. When you leave, I will not know you are gone.’” Sousuke waited nervously. He was not yet ready to carry out his master plan.
Mr. Yamataka sat quietly. All of his men and guests kept an eye on his face. He smiled. He guffawed. “Wonderful. You have wit too. He is less than a gnat to a man like me, no matter how important he may think he is. Take his arms!” The mobster watched as a number of burly men grabbed the Yokozuna.
“Some day, little boy, I will kill you.” Mr. Kashiwado spat at Sousuke.
“He doesn’t seem to like you, young man. What is the story behind that? I trust it will prove interesting.” The Yakuza snapped his fingers. Okita refilled his goblet before draping herself over Sousuke. Whatever she whispered in his ear had him turn as white as a sheet.
“We had misunderstandings on a number of occasions. He was set on fighting. I did not wish to be seriously injured, so I defeated him, Lord.”
“Really? You? I do not wish to slight you young man, but they must not make Yokozuna like they used to!” Everyone in ear shot began to hoot and howl. “How could a boy like you stop a mountain of a man like him?”
“I hit him hard in his private parts. Each time, Lord.”
Mr. Yamataka choked on the wine he was swallowing, spitting it out to stain the white linen table cloth. His men patted him on the back. “Good God! That must have been a sight to see.” The room exploded with laughter.
The Sumo broke free and swatted two men hard to the floor. A gangster behind him pistol-whipped him to the back of the head, bringing him to his knees. The men around him kicked him mercilessly. His comrades dare not move, as other dark-jacketed men held guns to their temples.
“Take that fat shit back to his table. If he causes any more trouble, shoot him. This is the way he shows his thanks to me, after sparing his life?” The oyabun turned back to Sousuke. “You have proven quite interesting young man. Have you given consideration to your future, what you intend to do after school? You might find Okayama much to your liking. There is always a place for a young man with courage and good sense.”
“Lord.” Sousuke bowed his head.
“Is Okita to your liking? If not, I will have another brought over. Or, if you wish, I shall give you the funds to bid at the auction. If you stay with us, you might like a familiar face.” The Yakuza laughed at the look on the girl’s face. “It seems you have made a friend, young man. Are you the jealous type, Okita? Would you mind if that boy wished to keep two women?” The girl shook her head quickly. “Good. I hear there was a blue-haired girl giving you trouble earlier. Perhaps you might like to break her in, eh?”
“Yes, Lord.” It was a good idea. He could go that route instead, ‘buying’ Kaname and setting her free. But that would leave four girls---four of his fellow students---in great trouble.
“Ah! Capital. You could have a bright future with us. This should be a night you long remember!” Mr. Yamataka lit up an expensive cigar, passed it to Sousuke, and lit another for himself. “Don’t worry, if you don’t smoke---that’s another vice you’ll be happy to learn.”
Sousuke was certain of one thing. This WAS a night he would always remember. He was quite certain that there was at least one girl who would never let him forget. Probably a lot more than one. He couldn’t wait too much longer.
First, if the girls were on the runway, they would be in danger from his plan. Second, and possibly more important, if they even took on step out here scantily clad, Sousuke’s fate would be irreversibly sealed. He would be safer with the Yakuza. At least the Boss has taken a liking to me. That should loosen up the security some, and make my move easier.
There was another commotion. This time, a path was forming in the sea of people. A man was demanding to see the oyabun.
“Take me to Kazuo, now! Find out if there is a doctor in the house. Bring me a number of enforcers, I want to borrow them for a job. GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!”
It was a night for reunions. The new arrival had managed to suture himself temporarily with a sewing kit. He had stolen a fine set of silk robes to wear, but there were still some blood stains in the groin area. He pushed people out of his way as he walked up to the Mob chieftain’s table. It was Mr. Kimutaku. Teiichi Murisato. The Golden Gecko.
“Suki darling!” Mr. Kimutaku’s eyes went wide, then narrowed to nasty slits. “What a wonderful coincidence finding you here. We have some matters to settle. You’ve saved me a lot of trouble!” He walked over and patted Sousuke’s cheek, after pushing Okita off of him. “But, you always were such a thoughtful boy….”
“Teiichi, what is the meaning of all this. I didn’t expect to see you at a girlie show.” Mr. Yamakata said nothing of the earlier ‘Kazuo.’
“It’s time I call in our blood debt, Kazuo. The word on the street said you'd be here tonight. I need a safe way out of the country. Discrete medical care, too.” As Teiichi Murisato, he had helped the current oyabun secure his grip on the position, by means of sizeable contributions and a couple of untraceable assassinations.
“But you also have something I want even more.” He ran his hand through Sousuke’s hair.
************************************************************
Mr. Ishigawa was ready to strip, put on a pair of garters, grab a couple of Ostrich feathers, and streak out on the runway himself. He was not a dancer, and had no secret dreams. No, that act would probably get him shot and put out of his misery! Such an inviting thought….
Despite the iron hand of Miss Okami and the presence of armed Yakuza, it was turning out to be impossible to teach these girls. He had never met such a group of severely mental challenged ladies in his entire life. He watched with disbelief as one girl, told to work with the feathers, tried to jump off of a ladder, acting as if they were wings. Her cry of ‘But why didn’t it WORK?’ had almost sent him into hysterics. Another girl kept trying to stand on one of the bubbles, falling off and ending up caught in the curtain ropes again and again. ‘I saw bears do this on TV’ was her explanation. And that blue haired girl! She showed remarkable enthusiasm. That was a bad thing. Every time one of the girls had a problem, that Chidori girl would run over to help her. It took twice as long to set them straight after that.
Finally, with so many people complaining about the delay, an underboss came back to check on the progress.
“Do you realize the seriousness of your situation?” The small man with the prosthetic leg was flanked by two men with the size and build of dumpsters. One held a nightstick. The other stroked a pump action shotgun.
Mr. Ishigawa’s head bobbed up and down like that of a turkey. He wrung his hands together, feeling suddenly nauseous. “Y-Y-Yes, Sir. But, these girls. They are so stupid.”
“I know HE is an idiot….” The underboss pointed to the choreographer. “But, I thought YOU had more sense than this.” The look he gave Miss Okami made her tremble. It took a lot to get her scared.
“Gun!” The underboss held out a hand. The man with the shotgun got there first. “My guess is that the girls have been playing you as fools. Not a surprise, really. But, I had hoped for better.”
“But…” Mr. Ishigawa never got to say what he intended to say.
“SHUT UP! Before I shut you up.” The underboss walked over to Kyouko. “Hello, cutie pie. Are you stupid?” He put the muzzle of the shotgun up against Kyouko’s chin.
“N-N-No!” Kyouko gasped, her eyes going big.
“Good. How about you?” He did the same thing to Ryo.
“No. Not me.” Ryo started to shiver when the man walked on to the next girl.
“You?” Maya looked ready to run, but stood her ground.
“No, sir!”
“Are you sure?” The underboss smiled, showing a diamond-studded gold tooth.
“Yes, sir. I mean I’m not stupid….” Maya thought her heart would stop.
“Not even as a favor to me?” The small nasty man pumped the shotgun.
“No!”
“Well, that’s good. Really good. Do we have ANY stupid girls here?” He looked about the room. No one spoke. No one moved.
“Well, Miss Okami, see how easy that was? I will leave them in your capable hands, then. You have fifteen minutes to teach them some kind of routine. They have five minutes after that to get into their costumes. It would be in their better interest to be ready when I return. But, if anyone gets shot, you and Mr. Ishigawa will be first. Until then. I hear a drink calling my name.” He ejected two shells from the gun and handed them to the one-time exotic dancer. “Find a place for these on one girl’s costume. It will spice things up. We have a couple of hitmen in the audience tonight.” The man laughed as he walked away. Those would also serve as a concrete reminder.
Kaname sighed. After all that, there was no longer any great benefit to playing dumb. At least they had bought some time. The crushing weight of inevitability began to wear heavy on the girls, minute by passing minute. Where were the police? Where was Sousuke? If he was out there eating or drinking…if he was going to wait until AFTER the show to make some move…if he was flirting with some girl instead of working to save these girls…she’d kill him TWICE!!!
The fifteen minutes passed. Now, they only had five minutes left---it was that time.
“OK, line up girls. NOW!!!” Miss Okami pushed a number of girls into line.
“Here are your outfits. Put them on. If you can’t figure out how by yourself, I’ll call that splendid man with a gun to assist you.” Mr. Ischigawa started passing out skimpy clothing.
Kaname got fox ears, a thong, a long bushy tail, and a pair of propeller tassels. Just touching them made her angry. Just you wait, Sousuke Sagara. Just you wait…. Two huge white feathers finished her get-up.
Kyouko stared numbly at a glitter-covered pair of pasties. She had bunny ears and a large fluffy tail. The bubble she carried was nearly as big as she was. What was she going to say when her mother asked her ‘what did you do on your school trip, dear?’
Ryo, Like Kaname, had fans. She had four smaller ones.
Mizuke was dressed up like Salome, destined to do the veil dance. She almost bit Mr. Ishigawa when he told her to make it the dance of the Six veils, leaving one on her face.
Maya had cat ears and tail, plus a much smaller bubble than Kyouko’s.
Ren was dressed as a belly dancer. She had a fair amount of clothing to wear. ‘The more to take off, my dear…’ a helpful Miss Okami laughed. ‘It'll make a woman of you. Did wonders for me….’
“Fan dancers, to ME!” Mr. Ishigawa started walking. “You girls are up first. Step over to those dressing rooms.” Group by group, he led the girls to the places where they would change into their costumes. Most of them would simply disrobe on the stage behind the curtain.
“FIVE MINUTES TO SHOW TIME!!!” Miss Okami sounded excited. Those girls would get what was coming to them!
“Shake’m if you got’em ladies!” Mr. Ishigawa mopped his brow. He needed a couple of aspirin in the worst way. There would be no review written in the daily papers. The Yakuza reviewed things in a much different fashion.
************************************************************
There was an angry noise amongst the enlisted Yakuza and the apprentices. An officer walked over to Mr. Kimutaku, a gun in his hand. “You will address the oyabun with the respect he deserves! We will allow no slight to go unpunished.”
“Your loyalty is admirable. That is why you are still alive.” Only Sousuke had tracked the move. A slender knife blade pricked the neck of the irate gangster. “This matter does not concern you. Your boss and I are old acquaintances. Do NOT speak to me again.” Mr. Kimutaku’s words carried the snap and bite of a whip.
“Step down!” Mr. Yamataka’s order was equally crisp.
“It’s good to see that you remember your friends, Kazuo,” Mr. Kimutaku laughed. “A lesser man might have let his position go to his head.” He took his knife and began pairing his finger nails, flicking the clippings towards toward the mob boss. “Of course, a lesser man might also have been discovered dead of unknown causes, a day or so later.” His high-pitched chuckling was lost in the general crowd noise.
“Are you threatening me, Teiichi?” The oyabun’s voice rose as the man sat taller in his chair. Each armed Yakuza drew his weapon and aimed it at the one time cat burglar.
“Of course not! Heavens, don’t be so paranoid. I was just making my usual charming conversation. Right, Suki?” He smiled, seeing the sullen look on Sousuke’s face.
Mr. Yamataka steepled his hands, keeping his eyes on the flamboyant assassin. When he touched a finger to his nose, his men all lowered their weapons, but did not holster them. “You spoke of debt. You need my help. What kind of trouble are you in, and what relationship does this young man have with you?”
“HEY, WHERE THE F@CK ARE THE GIRLS?!!!”
Mr. Kimutaku sniffed.
“Hoji, find the man who shouted.” Mr. Yamataka nodded to one of his officers. “Teach him proper decorum.” He looked to another man. “Kazumura, check on the girls.” Finished with his orders, he turned back to silently regard Mr. Kimutaku.
Sousuke’s jaw tightened.
“Let’s just say I ran into a little trouble at the museum. We had a disagreement about ownership of various items. You know how the authorities tend to over react.” He brushed his hands together. “The matter between that lovely young man and I is personal.”
The Yakuza boss wrinkled his nose. “Is he your…lover?”
“O, Heavens no! Quite a shame though, if you ask me. Let’s just say that Suki was a mite disrespectful, and later went on to cause me a frightful bit of discomfort.”
“I see.” The oyabun noted the blood stains on his acquaintance’s clothing. “I have a small debt to the young man, having offered him a position. However, our debt is greater, and goes further back. What is it that you would ask of me, Teiichi?”
“Nothing too burdensome, I assure you. I merely wish to kill him. And, if you are feeling particularly generous, there is a blue-haired girl who would benefit from my instruction.” The flamboyant killer spoke as if he were asking for a lump of sugar for his tea.
Mr. Yamataka spread his arms wide. “I will not stand in your way.”
“That is most unfortunate,” Sousuke said. He kicked his bag in front of the top gangster’s chair.
“Yes, I must apologize for this of course.” The oyabun smiled effusively. “I do appreciate the service you provided me. But, I should point out that my promise regarding the girls will end at your death.”
“That too shall prove your undoing.” Sousuke held up the item in his hand for everyone to see.
The dead man’s switch was a simple concept. If Sousuke released the trigger he held down on the detonator, a radio signal would cause a bomb to explode. Pushing the button on top would have the same dramatic effect.
“What is that? What are you fools waiting for, GET IT!” Mr. Yakatama’ command went unheeded. The more experienced Yakuza held their fellows back. They knew exactly what the device was.
“Just what type of game are you playing, beautiful boy?” Mr. Kimutaku dagger disappeared into his voluminous sleeves. He placed his hands in his pockets---when he withdrew them, he was once more wearing his taloned gloves.
“Mr. Yamataka,” Sousuke’s manner of address spoke volumes. “There are explosives in my bag. I release this trigger, and the Yakuza loses a fair number of its top ranking regional members. I push the button, and the same thing occurs. We will begin negotiations on MY terms.”
“Don’t be stupid, Kazuo. No doubt the churlish little brat is bluffing. He’s taking you for a fool!” Mr. Kimutaku laughed. “Check his bag.”
The oyabun looked at Sousuke, angry, and with a question on his face.
“You there, with the scar.” Sousuke waved the detonator towards the Yakuza officer who had led him into the room. “It was you who allowed me to keep the bag with me. You may be the one to look.” Sousuke did not smile. Still, it was good to repay a debt.
The man in question flinched, then turned a murderous glare on Sousuke.”
“Do so, Sanoske.” Mr. Yamataka snapped. “It will be to your benefit as well as mine if you do not find a bomb.” the double meaning to that statement was quite clear.
After giving Sousuke one more withering glance, the mobster did as he was instructed. Carefully, and very slowly, he unzipped Sousuke’s bag. As he tock items out, he described what he found.
“Socks…slacks…T-shirt…all damp. Another shirt, smelling of beer.” The man threw each item on the floor.
“My, my, my. Step back everybody. Any one of those might explode at any moment!” Mr. Kimutaku clapped his hands together.
“Keep looking!” The mob chieftain grunted.
“Clean shirt…dry pants…more socks…underwear…shaving cream…razor…tooth brush…toenail clippers.”
“TOENAIL CLIPPERS??? O, my God. If I had known how truly dangerous you are, Suki dear, I never would have threatened you!” Even wincing from a sudden flash of pain, Mr. Kimutaku managed a smile. A number of the Yakuza laughed.
“Continue!” The oyabun began to think it was just a con.
“More socks…a roll of bandages…antiseptic…Glock 17...” The scarred man stopped. He looked at the object in his hand as if it were a poisonous snake. He held the oistol up for everyone to see.
“Any more jokes, Teiichi?” Mr. Yamataka didn’t even bother looking at the wounded man. He nodded to his subordinate.
“Grenades. Night vision scope. Combat knife. Ammo clips. Steyr TMP….”
“Place that over by my foot” Sousuke ordered.
“Lord?” The gangster looked to his boss.
“Do it. Best not antagonize him at the moment.”
The Yakuza officer placed the submachine gun by Sousuke’s foot as instructed. He went back to the bag. “There is a large bundle, plastic-wrapped. It’s C4.” The man swallowed.
“C4???” The oyabun dropped his goblet. It shattered against the floor.
“Yes, Sir. Enough to take out every bank vault in Okayama, two times over.” The gangster had started to sweat.
Mr. Yamataka stared at Sousuke in disbelief.
“Such a precocious boy!” Mr. Kimutaku chirped. “Do Mommy and Daddy know what kind of toys you have?” His face took on a much more serious look when he turned to speak to the mob boss. “Kazuo, I think he’s bluffing. I don’t think the detonator is armed. I doubt the boy actually has some kind of death wish. I fought him. He did his best to stay alive.”
“SEND OUT THE DAMN GIRLS!!!” The crowd was becoming restless. The men caught in their own private showdown took little notice.
The oyabun looked at Sousuke and smiled a sly smile. “Teiichi may be right. If you detonate the bag, you die too.”
“Before, I was not fighting for myself. I was fighting for my classmates.” I was fighting for Kaname. Sousuke paused to let his words sink in.
“Yes. Your classmates. That does bring up an interesting dilemma, does it not? If you kill me, my men will kill the girls.” Mr. Yamataka had a calculating look on his face. “Stalemate, right?”
“By whose order?” Sousuke asked, unimpressed. “Most of their leaders will be scattered in small pieces across the room. The last thing the survivors would be concerned with is a group of high school girls.”
Mr. Yamataka blanched.
“I think you met your match, Kazuo.” Mr. Kimutaku laughed and blew Sousuke a kiss. “Either shoot him, or run away. I’ll gladly take my chances.”
“I will NOT run like some coward!” The oyabun said with some heat. “But, I will simply walk away. What will you do then, young man. Blow us all up?” He did two things then. He started walking. He made a small chopping motion with his hand.
Men behind Sousuke lunged forward, intent on holding his hand tightly closed. Their presence had not gone unnoticed. Sousuke kicked the TMP up, caught it in his hand, and fired behind him without looking. The three men fell to the ground in agony, their knees torn apart.
“You may take three more steps. After that, I shoot you.” Sousuke’s promise stopped the mob boss in his tracks.
Two inexperience gunmen, moved by the rush of emotion, swung their pistols towards Sousuke. They had forgotten about the detonator. Sousuke put a bullet in each of their foreheads. The crowd---already startled by the first shots---became unruly. Too many people wanted to see what was going on. More wanted to make it to the exit. Unable to shoot Sousuke, the Yakuza used the threat of their guns to keep the crowd back.
“What is it that you want?” Mr. Yamataka asked. “The girls? Your own safety? I will promise you those, if you let me go.”
“We have a number of matters to attend to.” Sousuke said. “This will be done according to my instructions. First, all of your men---including those dressed in common clothes, over by the bar---will drop their guns on that table, then climb up on the runway.” Sousuke indicated a particular table. “I will enlist help to see that they are truly unarmed. Any tricks, and you are the first one I shoot.”
“Yes. OK. They will do so.” Mr. Yamataka had decided to play it like the tide, slow but strong. He could leave now, but he would send his strength rushing back in when the time was right. First, he would survive. Then, he would have retribution. If a number of his men died in the process, they would be acceptable losses. At his signal, the gangsters began doing as Sousuke ordered.
“What, have you gone craven, Kazuo. Are you going to let a boy send you running, tail between your legs?” Mr. Kimutaku sneered. It looked as if he would need to take care of things himself. That was fine by him.
“SHUT UP!!!” Mr. Yamataka slapped the assassin hard across his cheek. He spoke harshly to his men. “We cannot shoot the boy. We can shoot you.” He motioned to the wounded man. “If he moves, shoot him. If he says another word, send him to his ancestors.”
The look in Mr. Kimutaku’s eyes would have caused Death himself to pause.
“Anything else, young man?” The oyabun looked Sousuke in the eyes. He would bend in this breeze, but not break.
“Yes. A matter of honor. You have dishonored the members of my class, shaming them beyond reason. That will be absolved when they return safely to their lives. There are others you have done wrong, and we shall now deal with that. Send one of your men. Ask Yokozuna Kashiwoda to come here. Inform him that it would be best if all of his companions came as well.”
“WHAT? That is no business of yours!” Mr. Yamataka lost his composure momentarily.
“That is incorrect. It is not open for discussion.”
Taiho Kashiwoda walked up. He was accompanied by the other two champions. A large number of massive men accompanied them. As it turned out, the Yokozuna had brought his entire stable with him. “Have you not insulted me enough for one night?” he asked the oyabun.
“I did not summon you. He did.” Mr. Yamataka nodded towards Sousuke.
“You?” The Sumo asked Sousuke. His face hardened.
“Yes.” Sousuke bowed. “I will first apologize for the dishonor done you.”
“You shoot a man where a man should never be shot? You disgrace a Yokozuna? And you expect your apology to be accepted?” Mr. Kashiwado’s anger was growing.
“No. I do not apologize for that.” Sousuke looked the Sumo in the eyes. “That was not of my doing. I did not initiate either confrontation. If you were challenged, would you back down?”
“I would not.”
“Then we understand one another. A mistake of mine did cost you face, however. I would correct that mistake, if I may. This event was arranged tonight because of my stupidity. As your name was wrongly used to promote it, you suffered dishonor. I would not have that be so.” Sousuke bowed again. “You will find these men to be cooperative for the moment.”
The Yokozuna stood silently, looking at Sousuke for what seemed like an eternity. The he faced the oyabun. “I approached you without honor before. There is no excuse for that, regardless of the truth of my claims. For that I ask your pardon. In return, I would like you to cancel this show, and announce that I am the reason for the closure. By doing that, you will pay your debt to me.” He bowed to the mob boss.
“It shall be done.” Mr. Yamataka bowed in return.
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End of pt 16
