FALLEN ANGEL Chapter 8: All For Nought

Success. She had done it! All of the training and hard work had finally paid off and Yukiko Kusanagi had reached her goal of becoming a champion. On top of that, she had just successfully defended it for the first time against a competitor that she was legitimately afraid could have cut her run short. But she had still done it. Some would have, perhaps called it a lucky win on her part. She would have agreed with them. Yukiko saw the window of opportunity to land a big move and went for it. She just hoped she hadn’t hurt her opponent too much. She actually liked the woman and that was saying a lot, considering, outside of her family, Yukiko didn’t really like anybody. A paltry few she could found on her fingers. Yukiko sat on the bench in her locker room, staring down at the white leather strap adorned with silver plates and purple sapphires. The Women’s Television Championship. It wasn’t a top tier title, by far, according to most but within the company, it had become a prized possession. Especially seeing as how she’d won it from Eavan Maloney while putting her own career on the line at the finals of the tournaments, a week prior. You’re really stupid, you know that? She told herself. What if you hadn’t won? Then what? You would have been out of a job. Had to find another place to compete to raise money for your sister.

But that turned out to not be true, afterall. All of a sudden, it seemed her worries about her sister were washed away due to unexpected help from the very woman she had taken this title from. How Eavan figured it out, she didn’t know. That she owed money to the Yakuza. But Eavan, underneath the on screen attitude and bravado had a kind heart and was another person Yukiko felt she could look at as a true friend. She’d pulled Yukiko aside the previous week and placed an envelope in her hand with two words. Pay them. Inside, was a check for $100,000.00 The U.S exchange equivalent of what she needed to finish paying off her family’s debt. Eavan had seen a side of Yukiko then that not many had. Not even her stable mates in The Unwanted. She cried. She cried and sobbed and imagined she probably almost squeezed the life out of Eavan when she hugged her.

After tucking her belt back inside her duffel bag, Yukiko stood under the hot shower in the locker room, with a content smile on her face. She knew the check should be on its way through the mail to her grandmother’s house, addressed to her mother. She knew what to do, as much as Yukiko hated the idea of her mother going before any member of the Yamamoto Kai. But it would be done soon. It would all be over and Yukiko expected to be planning another trip to Japan to hug her sister tight and kiss her face. For the first time in a long while, Yukiko “Angel” Kusanagi felt like she could breathe a sigh of relief….


Yukiko laid on her futon mattress, swiping through her phone. More Twitter stuff. She already had her second defense lined up for the next show. Cali-Kate, her name was. Ironically enough, a close friend to Eavan Maloney. Yukiko had spent the previous day appeasing any fanbase that followed them both, going back and forth with little banters. Taunting one another. That was entertaining enough but Yukiko only really cared about getting into the ring with who she was lined up against. She had the feeling, though, underneath all of the cute little cartoon images, that Kate was going to be a tough competitor. Sure, Eavan Maloney and Jasmine Matthews were tough, as well. But Kate was hungry. Hungry for success just like Yukiko was. Technically, she didn’t need bonus money anymore. Eavan had taken care of that. She was just waiting to hear back about the exchange. If Yamamoto could really be trusted, that is. But that would have to wait, she supposed, as Yukiko felt a growling inside her stomach. Time to eat.

Yukiko stepped out of her apartment after getting dressed in jeans, sneakers and a hoodie over her tank top. It was getting chilly in New York and was starting to remind her of home. Though, the thought was now passing her mind of bringing her family here for a visit. Showing them what America was like. She pulled up the hood of her Maximum The Hormone hoodie and stepped out onto the sidewalk, deciding to head for the bakery down the street. She wasn’t terribly famished but she needed to eat something.

She settled on a fresh hot cinnamon bun and coffee to warm up a little on the particularly chilly day. She was about halfway through her breakfast when she saw him. Yukiko remained casual as she cut through her bun and ate it with a fork. She knew he was there, though. Watching her. A man in semi-casual wear messing with his phone. Or at least presenting to mess with it. Maybe he was taking pictures. Obsessed fan? Yukiko didn’t really think she had many of those. Did she have any fans? People cheered for her in her matches but who didn’t like seeing two people kick the crap out of each other? No, this man was peculiar. Yukiko sipped her coffee and flashed a glance at the mirror that reflected the rest of the bakery. She set her coffee down and pretended to mess with her hair in the mirror while she surveyed the man. Young. About mid twenties. Asian. Japanese? She waited for him to lift his head a little again. Yup. Definitely Japanese. The hell was he staring at her for? Yukiko turned away from the mirror to finish her breakfast. She wiped her lips before picking up her coffee and going to the counter to request a fresh refill.

“Arigatou! Thank you!” Yukiko said politely before fixing her coffee the way she liked it with seasonal pumpkin spice cream and sugar before putting a lid on it and heading out of the bakery. Through the mirror she saw the man with the phone keeping an eye on her as she stepped outside. On the way back down the sidewalk, she passed by another Japanese man, leaning back against the wall with his nose buried in a newspaper. She caught that lift of his eyes towards her, however and walked right by him. Yeah, he stood out. Really, dumbass? The newspaper trick? Yukiko thought to herself. She sipped her coffee, remaining casual and continued down the sidewalk. After a moment she pulled out her phone and pretended to stop for a selfie. Through her camera, she saw not only the man with the newspaper but the man from the bakery in the background of the shot. Alright, then. Let’s do this. Yukiko thought as she tucked her phone away and decided to lead the two on a little game of cat and mouse. Yukiko made her way further down the street. She passed by her apartment building, as casual as possible, making it look like that wasn’t where she was headed. For all she knew, however, these two were already well aware of where she lived. Not one but two Japanese? She didn’t like this one bit. But this was New York. Who was going to care if something happened?

Yukiko reached an alleyway and took an immediate dip right into it. Here, she picked up her pace into a light jog, feeling a little pleased with herself. These two wouldn’t be able to keep up with her if she kept cutting corners and….

“Kuso!” Yukiko cursed under her breath as she came to a dead end of the alleyway. She supposed it was her fault for dipping into an alley she wasn’t familiar with but here she was now. Behind her, at the mouth of the alley, she heard two sets of footsteps crunching on the trash and gravel ground.

“Looks like a dead end, Kusanagi!” She heard one of the two call out to her in Japanese. They knew her name. That could only mean one thing. Yukiko closed her eyes and lifted her face towards the sky. Fuck. She turned around to face the two men standing in the alley, blocking her exit. Yukiko put on a small smile.

“A flight from Japan ain’t cheap!” She mused as she stood her ground, not moving from her spot. “What family are you from?”

“Like you need to guess?” The same one who had spoken first said. It was the man who had been reading the newspaper. He was wearing a full on casual suit. The way most Yakuza of moderate position wore. Open jacket. No tie. Top of the shirt unbuttoned. The one from the bakery wore his shirt the same way but when standing beside his buddy, Yukiko noted that his clothes looked a little...cheaper. He was ‘chinpira.’ A low ranking member of whatever clan he was sworn to. The one with the blazer was very likely his ‘aniki.’ Big brother figure in the Yakuza. Or maybe he was just a comrade who had been around longer.

Yukiko shrugged her shoulders, trying to remain cool and confidant. She didn’t like this one bit. She didn’t like where it was going. “I’m not a mind reader. Yamamoto? Did he get his mail? I sent it express!” She quipped, honestly trying to see if she could lighten the mood. Maybe break whatever aggressive intention these two had. Yukiko even sipped her coffee while looking at them to show she was calm.

The pair laughed and began inching their way down the alley, towards her. A slow, methodical pace. “Normally we don’t fuck with civilians. But your family owes a debt and well...on top of that, you decided to insult our boss.”

This took Yukiko aback. “I never insulted him." She said, defensively. “I owe him an apology for causing a scene during his lunch but---”

“Look, fuck Yamamoto!” The speaker said, cutting her off with an angry snap to his tone. “That old motherfucker ain’t gonna be around that much longer at this rate! Shit needs to change! Our boss is taking over soon and examples need to be made! Starting with hotheaded little bitches like you who think they can just get in her face whenever they damn well please!”

Her face. Yukiko felt like a light was shined down on everything, now. Yamamoto didn’t send these men. He had no reason to. “...Suzuki….” Yukiko knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to do but...she laughed. She laughed so hard she had to put the back of her hand over her mouth. “Are you fucking serious? Suzuki sent you two to what? Beat me? Kill me? Rape me? Teach me a lesson? All because of what went down in that restaurant? She sent you two all the way from Japan to New York for that? And now? It’s been over a month. She just now got around to it? What she got a hit list of people who fucked up her manicures?”

“Hey! Watch your fucking mouth about Boss Suzuki, bitch!” The quiet one from the bakery finally snapped out. His colleague put the back of his hand against his chest and shot him a look. ‘Shut up.’

Yukiko sipped her coffee again and watched the two, waiting for an answer. The first one spoke up again. “We don’t have to agree or disagree with what boss asks us to do. We just have to do it. Yamamoto ain’t gotta know. Won’t matter before too long anyway. Once Boss Suzuki has him taken out and she’s running the show.”

Yukiko was a little surprised to hear this. She’d heard of Yakuza treachery before but the Yamamoto Kai had a reputation for being the most loyal to each other. “She’s gonna kill him?”

“Well, no shit! How do you think she’s gonna take over?” The one Yakuza laughed as they now stood, paused about five feet away from her. “We shouldn’t really be telling you this, but who the fuck are you gonna tell anyway after today? Oh and your sister? Boss is gonna keep making a real pretty yen off of her sweet ass. Just to spite you in the afterlife.”

Yukiko had her turn to smirk now as she tilted her head. “Joke’s on you assholes. I just sent Yamamoto the rest of the debt. Soon as he has that. My sister’s free to go home.”

Both men burst into laughter. The chinpira almost looked like he was going to fall over and leaned on his aniki to stay standing. The aniki of the two got his laughter under control first and prodded his partner to quiet down. “Oh, you really are one dumb bitch. I guess it’s true what they say here in America about bleaching your hair. Shit went straight in and fucked with your brain!”

Yukiko stood in place, but said nothing. Waiting on the man to go on.
“You think a measly little ten million yen is gonna payback everything?” The Yakuza chuckled. “Stop making me laugh, bitch.”

“But that was the debt!” Yukiko snapped back at the man, feeling her anger rise and her patience dwindle. She ended up squeezing her cup of coffee that the lid popped off and the hot liquid splashed a little onto her hand. Yukiko winced, hissing as she looked at the men, suddenly desperate. “That was the debt. Ten million is the total of what my father borrowed from Yamamoto.”

“Like I said.” The man tucked his thumbs into his belt. “Fuck Yamamoto. This isn’t about money anymore with Suzuki. This is about setting an example. It’s about blood. Your blood. Now, how do you wanna do this? Because there’s no way out of this for you. You can get down on your knees and make it quick….” He reached back under his jacket and pulled out a wakizashi, drawing it from the scabbard. “Or you can keep up the tough girl attitude and see how long it takes before you bleed out like one of these gaijin whores the cops find in spots like these on a nightly basis.”

That fucking bitch. That goddamn, motherfucking bitch! Angel closed her eyes and lowered her head. Her hand began to tremble with her coffee cup. More drops of scalding hot French vanilla dripped down onto her hand but she didn’t care about the burn. The fire of rage burning inside of her was much too hot for her to feel anything else. Eavan’s help. Yukiko’s promise to her family. All for nought. All because of some backstabbing Yakuza bitch who somehow found her way into the upper ranks and was now planning on dishonorably taking over the very clan that her own smaller one was a subsidiary to. And for what? Power? Control? Both? Yeah, that sounded like Suzuki. Yukiko could see that bitch’s smug smiling face in her mind now as she closed her eyes. A lieutenant of the Yamamoto Kai had gotten one up on her. What was she supposed to do now? Take a knee and a blade to the heart? Give up everything and accept that she’d never see Tsukiko again? No. No! NO! Fuck that! Fuck that and fuck Suzuki!

“Fuck it, let’s just bleed the bitch, now.” She heard the chinpira say as he stepped forward. Yukiko’s eyes snapped open, and her head jerked up. All in one motion, she did this and she swept her arm of the hand holding her coffee in from the side. A steaming wave of liquid was flung from the cup and splashed both men in the face. Their screams bounced off of the brick walls of the alleyway as they clawed at their scalded flesh. Yukiko could already see their skin reddening like that of her hand as she rushed forward three steps. She brought one foot up onto the chinpira’s knee and thrust her body up. Her other leg snapped up and she drove a knee right into his chin. She heard his teeth knock together and a splatter of blood flew from his lips as he ended up biting his tongue. Chinpira fell back and Yukiko landed back on her feet and immediately dropped down, twisted and swept the aniki’s feet out from under him. The man hit the gravel with a hard thud and Yukiko brought her sweeping foot down to the ground and kicked her other foot up and swung her heel down towards his face but he brought his arms up in an X to block and push her foot up. Yukiko flipped herself back and landed on one knee, staring daggers at the man. The scalding coffee had left a painful red burn across his face but he grabbed the wakizashi off of the ground and came at her with a guttural yell. “You little fucking BITCH!!” Yukiko was up to meet him as he began slashing the air towards her with his blade. Yukiko danced backwards on her feet, stepping in a rather graceful manner as she weaved her head back and to the side to avoid having her face carved up by the weapon. Finally, the Yakuza flipped the wakizashi around into a downward grip and raised it up for a downward strike. Yukiko stepped in and dipped down, bringing her leg up behind her in a display of flexibility and drove her heel right into his face.

As she came up, she caught the knife by the handle and instinctively moved on the man, trying her own hand at opening him up. Her blind rage leaving her with no concern or remorse of she ended up opening his throat. The Yakuza deflected her attacks, blocking with his forearm against hers to keep the blade from piercing or cutting him each time. He finally found an opening and grabbed her by the arm and went to throw her into the wall but Yukiko braced with a foot and pushed off, propelling herself back into a flip, freeing her arm and putting some distance between her and her attacker. Now the second man was up - the chinpira - with blood running down his chin. It was his turn to rush the platinum blonde woman with a flurry of punches and kicks that Yukiko batted away until she saw a window of opportunity and drove a kick to the inside of a knee. He buckled. Yukiko sprung up into the air, jumping and twisting at once. She brought one leg out in a wide kick she figured she’d either nail him with or he’d duck under. He did duck. And she was ready with her other foot, pushing out and driving the sole of her shoe right into his face with enough force to send him stumbling back into a dumpster where he hit his head and slumped to the ground. Nighty night. One down. One to go.

“I’m gonna carve you up….” Yukiko heard the senior Yakuza and turned to see him retrieving his wakizashi again, “...and take a picture of your fucking corpse for your little whore sister to cry over while we take turns!” Yukiko clenched her fists and forgot what little remorse she might have had. She didn’t budge from her where she stood as the wild eyed Yakuza came running at her. He brought his arm in with the blade and swung inward. Yukiko waited until the last possible instant before weaving underneath it, causing him to miss. As she came up, he brought his arm back in a backhand slash attempt Both of Yukiko’s hands came up. One hand caught him by the forearm. The other thrust out and she drove her palm as hard as she could into his elbow. There was a loud SNAP and the man’s arm bent 90 degrees in the wrong direction. The Yakuza’s agonizing howls filled the air in the New York afternoon. Yukiko swiftly snatched the wakizashi from his grip and drove her foot into the back of his leg to make him take a knee. Now Yukiko screamed. But not with pain. With utter rage as she held the wakizashi in a downward grip and brought the blade down, plunging it into the Yakuza’s neck from the side. The man’s screams instantly turned to gurgling gags and a fountain of blood was projected from his mouth. Trembling with rage, Yukiko yanked the blade out and let the man fall face first into the gravel. It took a second to realize what she had done and her rage subsided as she looked down at the man’s corpse.

Oh shit. Whoa. Yukiko looked back at the chinpira Yakuza, still unconscious against the dumpster. No doubt somebody heard his colleague’s screams. Whether or not anyone would do something about it? Yukiko wasn’t going to wait around to see. Gotta move! Yukiko started moving for the way out of the alley but paused to realize she still had the wakizashi in her hand. Gotta get rid of this. But wait. Fingerprints. If the police did show up, Yukiko knew enough to know that this would put her here. She thought for a second before hurrying over to the unconscious chinpira and began to search his pockets. Please tell me you have one. Most of you fuckers in suits usually have a, YES! Yukiko found the man’s handkerchief and used it to hastily wipe the wakizashi down in an effort to clean her fingerprints off. This is how it’s done right? She dropped the wiped down weapon to the gravel and used the cloth to wipe the senior Yakuza’s blood off of her hand. She thought about tossing it into a dumpster. No. What about prints on here? She stuffed it into her jeans pocket and hurried out of the alley. Yukiko could hear the sirens approaching now as she pulled her hood up and continued down the street the way she had been heading before dipping into the alley. Calm down. Calm down and look casual. She told herself as she pulled out her phone and began flipping through it. She heard the sirens round the corner of the street and get closer until they sped passed her but heard their tires squeal as they stopped down by the alley. She heard car doors open. She kept walking, trying to remain calm as everything the two Yakuza said repeated through her head. The realization that all of her efforts had gotten her nowhere. All because of their direct boss. Or perhaps it was because of her own temper that day she went before Yamamoto and his officers. Either way, Yukiko Kusanagi realized that she still needed to do something! The realization hit her at the same time a single tear crept its way down her cheek….