FALLEN ANGEL Chapter 7A: God Among Men Sept 8, 2019 18:13:19 GMT -8
Post by Yukiko Kusanagi on Sept 8, 2019 18:13:19 GMT -8
For the past three days, Angel had been doing everything she could to prepare for whenever the Yamamoto Clan decided to grant her an audience as she had requested. She knew how they operated, somewhat. Not just them but the entire syndicate. They knew when something was going to go down. Others didn’t. From the moment she returned home after her run-in with Ueda, Angel was making sure she had everything ready. That is, the offering to Boss Yamamoto to, hopefully, keep him in a good mood to hear her out.
What are you going to say to the boss of a crime family, anyway? Angel often found herself asking inwardly. She was gradually losing her patience day by day. She had a flight back to the United States soon for an event. One which she was contractually obligated to attend to. Yet Ueda had simply told her, sit tight and she would be picked up soon. She hadn’t mentioned a word to her mother or father as to what she was doing. The last thing she needed was either of them filled with unnecessary stress. Three days had passed with her flight being scheduled for the following morning when Angel was walking along the sidewalk amidst other citizens - a thick envelope tucked inside her jacket - when a black, four door sedan abruptly pulled up along the curb beside her. It did so in such a manner that Angel stopped and stepped back from the vehicle, tensing up. The front driver’s side window rolled down and a man in a dark suit peered at her from behind a pair of sunglasses. His mouth was curled downward in a neutral scowl that made it difficult to tell what kind of mood he was in.
“You Kusanagi?” The driver asked, bringing up one arm to rest on the car door, above where the window had slipped down into.
Angel remained tense. Untrusting. “Maybe.” She responded, probably taking a risk in testing the man. She could almost sense the man rolling his eyes underneath his shades.
“Get in the car.” He said bluntly, turning to look at the man in the front passenger seat. Angel saw his head shake while the passenger rolled his eyes and chuckled.
“You with Yamamoto?” Angel inquired, daring a step closer but froze when the man’s head snapped back towards her.
“I said get in the fucking car!” The man turned towards her enough, Angel saw the pin on the lapel of his suit jacket. The Yamamoto crest. It was enough for her and she casually, smoothly opened the back door and slipped into the vehicle with only a few eyes on her from nosy people passing by. People who probably heard the driver raise his voice. Once Angel was situated and buckled in, she sat quietly in the back seat. In the front passenger seat, another man in slacks and a colorful silk shirt - bright blue - gave her a look over his shoulder. He remained silent, though. The car pulled away from the curb and continued down the street until it came to a roundabout, which it took and made a complete turnaround.
“So.” Angel spoke up. A smirk crossing her lips as she managed to relax in her seat. “Where are you boys taking me?”
“Don’t get cute, bitch.” The passenger practically snapped back. “You know where you’re going. If you ask me, I don’t know why boss is letting you waste his time.” He looked over at the driver and gave him a light smack in the arm before thumbing back towards her. “Who the fuck is she, anyway?”
The driver shifted his grip on the steering wheel casually and took a turn. “Tsuki’s sister.”
Angel looked up in semi-alarm. They knew Tsuki?! The man in the passenger seat threw his head back and let out a belting laugh before turning right back towards Angel, resting his arm on the center console in the car. “Sister, huh? Is that why you begged Ueda Aniki to speak with Boss Yamamoto?” He was now looking at Angel with a sly grin on his face. Angel felt her anger threaten to flare. She knew he was mocking her. The man squinted his eyes and tilted his head as he stared at her for what felt like an eternity. “Heeey. Yeah! I see it now!” He finally said with a sense of realization in his voice and eyes. “You look just like her! Your hair’s different.” He motioned up around his own head, indicating the obvious difference between Angel’s hair and her sister. He, himself, didn’t have any. His scalp looked like it’d been given a fresh shave that morning. Still glinting under the sunlight that made it in through the window from the aftershave that Angel could smell lingering off of him.
The man chuckled. “You’re twins, aren’t you? I can tell!” The man started to chuckle again when the driver broke his silence.
“Hey! Will you knock it off?” He growled in annoyance. “Not in the mood to listen to your bullshit, today.”
The man in the passenger seat rolled his eyes and thumbed to the driver, mouthing something to Angel. She thought it looked like he was calling him a gesu yaro. If Angel remembered correctly, the English term as “asshole.” Thankfully, for her, the man in the passenger seat turned back around in his seat and faced in front of him again. “She coming to work for us?” He chuckled, nudging his driving friend.
“Shut. The fuck. Up.” The driver groaned as he shifted into another lane and kept driving. The man in the passenger seat rolled his eyes again and threw his hands up in submission.
The rest of the car ride was, pleasantly, uneventful. Angel spent the silence just sitting and watching buildings go by below the highway for about ten minutes before they pulled up to a restaurant that Angel immediately recognized. Her family had only ever eaten there a few times when her father still had a good paying job selling stocks. Now, though, they probably couldn’t ever afford drinks there. Well...Angel probably could on her current pay if she wasn’t stashing everything away. The restaurant doors opened and a family walked out. They didn’t even seem to notice her or her two escorts that now stepped up beside her. The man from the passenger seat stepped in front of her and forcefully lifted her arms up.
“Alright, hold still sweetheart.” He smirked as he began to pat her down. She didn’t miss the squeeze of his hands as they moved down her chest. Saw the perverted smirk on his face as he pretended to be searching her for weapons, obviously. A gun. Knife. Anything she might try to harm their boss with. All he managed to find was what was there. The envelope. He pulled it out of her jacket. “Well, what do we have here?”
“Hey!” Angel said calmly, reaching for the envelope. The man’s other hand shot up and grabbed her wrist as he forcefully backed her against the car.
“Bitch, I will break your fucking arm in half if you try anything. Test me.” The man said with a sudden more serious tone to his voice before he slowly let Angel’s wrist go. He cracked a smirk and opened the envelope, looking through the thick stack of yen notes inside. He let out an impressed whistle. “Nice one!”
“Hey. Is that for boss?” The driver interrupted as he stepped around the car and snatched the envelope from his partner. He double checked the contents and looked at Angel silently. She nodded without a word. Pausing for a moment, he handed it back to her. “Least it’s not a complete waste of time. Let’s go. Don’t say a goddamn word unless you’re spoken to at that table. You understand me?”
He looked back at her and she nodded as she clutched the envelope tightly at her side and followed the man in. Passenger guy walked in behind her. Somehow, she could feel his eyes on her ass. Angel rolled hers as she followed the driver right passed the front counter and passed several tables. The smell of grilled meat and steamed vegetables waffed underneath Angel’s nose. She’d eaten breakfast that morning but it was just passed lunch time and the aromas mixing together were stirring up her appetite. Angel followed the driver further back and up a flight of stairs to the second level. Angel had never been up there in the times her family ate there. It was obviously a VIP level for higher end customers. It was mostly void of any patrons, however, save for a table near the back. Angel could only assume the man she was supposed to meet was among them as she was being led directly towards that exact table. A large round table with a half circle booth up against the wall. Some chairs in the front. It could have sat about ten people there but there were only six that she counted. Five men. One woman. All wearing expensive looking attire. Not business attire. No. The shirts were either too flashy or everything was worn wrong. As they got closer, Angel recognized two of the five men. There was Kenji Ueda, in the middle of sipping from a glass as he looked up at Angel and the two Yakuza that had brought her here. A small smile played across his face as he noticed her. The other man that Angel recognized. Oh. Motherfucker….
He was one of the only two men wearing a full suit with a tie as he sat among the others. He, too, looked up and an unpleasant, surprised smile played across his middle aged features. His was a face Angel had hoped she’d never have to see again. The last time she had seen him was in NFW where he fronted as her manager. He had since been promoted to Boss Yamamoto’s Senior Advisor, hence why he left her high and dry. Well, that was an inaccurate way of even putting it. High and dry would assume she even enjoyed being in the man’s company. Under his constant watch. Having to endure...him. Eido Tanaka. The sight of him made her physically sick and it took everything she had to not visibly show it as she stepped up to the table as the driver stepped aside, bowing low at the table.
“Good afternoon, sir.” He said, keeping his head low. “We brought her to see you. Yukiko Kusanagi.”
“Yukiko.” Eido spoke up with a snake’s smile on his lips. “So good to see you again. It’s been quite awhile.”
“So this is her?” The woman at the table said. Her dark eyes flicked over Angel, looking her over. Red painted lips, originally a scowl, curled up into a wicked smirk. “Hmph! I thought you said she had potential, Eido. Looks rather bony to me. That face though. Pretty.” The woman speaking had to be one that Angel had often heard about when people spoke of the Yamamoto Clan. Makoto Suzuki. Her long black hair fell like silk over the shoulders of her suit jacket with the rest down her back. Her brown eyes were dark enough they could have been mistaken for black coals that had not seen a flame. Suzuki leaned back where she seat and her arm shifted. Angel saw the handle of a katana sword appear beside her as she rested her other arm up over the back of the booth. “You look just like your sister. Almost. Your hair is different. And your eyes. Yours still have...strength. They’ve yet to be stripped of life. They haven’t been broken, yet.”
Angel stood in place, but her empty hand clenched into a fist. Suzuki saw this and her red lips parted, bearing white teeth in a wicked smile. “Mmmmh. This one has a temper! I see why you liked her, Eido.” She teased, leaning towards Eido who chuckled some.
“Enough.” Another man spoke one word at the table and the two antagonizers immediately fell silent as if shushed by the voice of a King. Deep, gruff and powerful. It came from the man sitting in the center of the booth side of the table. Dressed in solid black, everywhere from his suit, to his shirt, to his tie. Most Yakuza had a reputation for dressing in bright colors. Either their slacks and jackets or sometimes just their shirts spoke as to who they were. This man, didn’t need clothes to stand out. His name and reputation were enough. This was the first time Angel had ever seen him in person but with the way he silenced the table she knew that this was her host for the afternoon. Daisuke Yamamoto. Patriarch of the Yamamoto Clan that operated throughout and essentially ran the underground scene there. He was said to be a cold, ruthless but fair man. A god amomg men, some called him. Angel supposed she would see about that here. Daisuke Yamamoto looked up at her from across the table. Angel avoided direct eye contact with him as her eyes scanned over the rest of the table. She knew Kenji Ueda, one of the Patriarch’s Lieutenants. Eido Tanaka was his Senior Advisor. Makoto Suzuki, rare as it was, was another of Yamamoto’s Lt.’s.
It was practically unheard of to see a woman within the Yakuza Syndicate. Wives of Patriarch’s were treated with a sense of respect but kept out of the business side of things. If you married a Yakuza, you were just that. The wife of a criminal. Makoto Suzuki was different. She was legendary among the underworld. A cold blooded bitch who had been killing since she was a child. How she caught the attention of the Yakuza and earned her way in...Angel didn’t wanna know. Either way, here she was now. A Lieutenant to a clan and the Matriarch of her own family. Angel had seen one of the other two men out and out with the Yamamoto. He usually had a large entourage with him. Eikei Yoshida. Captain of the Yamamoto Clan. A man in his forties who took care of his appearance, clearly. Even the goatee that bordered his mouth was practically perfect. He was far from a prude, however, Angel could tell. His steely gaze watched her from where he sat, gauging her every move. The top buttons of his shirt were left open. Angel could see faint traces of his irezumi etched deep into his skin.
The same was for Ueda and the man sitting between him and Yoshida. He had to be the third Lieutenant to the clan. He said nothing for now, but Angel took note of the wild look in his eye. Yes, eye. The right one burned a hole right into her while the left was covered by an eyepatch. It made Angel briefly wonder how he got it. Everything about this man stood out. From the eyepatch, to the snakeskin jacket he wore that boldly displayed his irezumi on his exposed chest underneath the open lapels. He must have caught her looking at him because his eye widened with a sense of realization as he tilted his head. “Fuck you lookin’ at, bitch?”
“Sasaki.” Daisuke Yamamoto didn’t need to raise his voice to command his people. He needed only to speak their name in annoyance. His cold brown eyes shifted back to look up at Angel. Sasaki, the man with the eye patch fell silent, save for a “tsssk tsk tsk tsk.” Yamamoto glowered up at Angel again and finally addressed her. “Kusanagi, Yukiko.” He said with disinterest in his tone. “Ueda tells me you’re Masahiro’s daughter.” He paused. His gaze hardened even more. “His other daughter.” He added, finally. “Sit.”
Angel swallowed calmly and stepped forward. Before she sat, she held the envelope of money in both hands and bowed low, extending it out towards Yamamoto, in front of her. There was a moment of silence and nothing happened. Then, however, Angel felt the envelope taken out of her hands and passed over. It meant Yamamoto hadn’t been the one to take it. Once her hands were empty, Angel looked up in time to see Eido Tanaka settling back into his seat. Only then, did Angel pull her chair out and sit down in the single chair set out for her, right across from Yamamoto, himself. He was silent for a long moment as he looked through the envelope. His eyes narrowed, curiously and he lifted them back to Angel. “I’m impressed.” He said simply. “This is more than your father pays me in a month.” He set the envelope down in front of him. “Have you eaten?” The man asked. A question that took Angel by surprise. She wasn’t sure how to feel. Or what to say. For the first time in awhile, Angel felt an unfamiliar feeling inside. The feeling of fear. Why had she asked for this meeting to be set up? She was nobody compared to these people. At least in their minds. They could easily just kill her and make it look like an accident or a random mugging. But here she was. Sitting in front of the most dangerous criminal in Dotonbori. Probably in Osaka, overall. He sat there, waiting for her to answer him.
“I had breakfast.” She said, unsure of what else to even say. The food was certainly appetizing. Angel tried to not make it obvious that she was looking over everything.
“In other words, no.” Yamamoto said flatly. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. From the side, a young man about Angel’s age, maybe even younger hurried over. Angel could only guess he was one of Yamamoto’s men. The Clan Patriarch motioned to the assortment of community dishes on the table and lifted his chin towards her. The young Yakuza answered with a bow before taking a plate from a stack on a cart nearby and proceeded to fix a plate of the basics. Rice, veggies and grilled eel that was still steaming hot. The young man set the plate and chopsticks in front of her; waiting to be dismissed before he disappeared. Angel bowed her head. “Thank you...Yamamoto-san.”
“Let this be a lesson, child.” Yamamoto said as he watched her dig in with as much reserve as she could muster. It had to be obvious that cuisine of this caliber beat the hell out of soup cups and canned food that Angel had become accustomed to eating in order to save as much money as possible. Money to pay this man she sat before right now. “When I get what’s owed to me...when people make proper effort...I make things easy for them. When they give me the runaround...come up with excuses...life becomes difficult.” Yamamoto lifted the envelope of money again for Angel to see. “This here...is proper effort.” He set it back down and watched her with that ever lasting hard gaze. “So then. Eat up. Then let’s talk.”
To Be Continued….