“You seem to care, even if it’s just an ounce more than anyone else, you do.” Sayuri answered, remembering the way he grabbed her hand when she flashed her marred pinky nub. He also took care of her whenever Joe lectured her at the snack bar, he was clearly more gentle than any man she’d ever known. “You don’t need to worry about what happens to me in the what if’s. Do your best to hold up your end of the deal, and I will do the same.” She continued.
—
Spider was still looking around with some unease. There was some irony in werewolves having a human bodyguard. Spider’s sense were limited by his human biology, he couldn’t easily sniff out Sasha or keep a keen ear out for trouble. At least no more than a human man could. But when Stasi grabbed his face to refocus on her, he felt some sense of reassurance. He did finally suppose that standing still in the middle of dance floor was more conspicuous than dancing awkwardly. He relented, and almost sheepishly, took Stasi’s hand and gave her a twirl.
Sayuri had Sasha’s number. He may have been a ruthless mob boss like his father before him, but also like Adrik, he did know when to have compassion.
He hoped compassion wouldn’t bite him in the ass.
“Alright.” He agreed as he placed a hand on Sayuri’s waist, pulling them closer together. “I’ll help you, as long as you help me and as long as my job here isn’t put in jeopardy.”
—-
Stasi lit up and threw her head back with a surprised bark of laughter. She had honestly expected Spider just to leave the dance floor. She allowed herself to be twirled and when she spun around completely, she reached up to lace her fingers around the back of Spider’s neck, pulling close to him to sway their bodies together.
“I knew you’d come around.” She grinned, all confident arrogance like any other Nikitin. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“You won’t regret it.” Sayuri said with a grin, pleased with herself by a deal well struck. “I can meet you later tonight, I can give you proof that he’s already sold those guns to someone else.” She offered then.
—
Spider felt his cheeks flush, he looked up and away as Stasi threw her arms around his neck, but he did not recoil. He wrapped his arms around her waist but not too tightly and allowed himself to sway with Stasi.
“Yeah well don’t expect it to happen again.” He said, feigning annoyance. While he was uncomfortable, he wasn’t truly annoyed. In fact, Stasi’s laughter at being twirled, brought him some comfort.
“Meet me by the train station, one am. The train will have stopped running for the night, so no one will be there. I’ll come alone, I’d appreciate it if you did the same.” Sayuri said, she issued it as instructions, rather than an inquiry. She didn’t expect that he would follow through on a basis of intimidation, but maybe just because she was cute.
—
Spiders ears burned and he made his best effort to avert his gaze from Stasi. He did still allow himself to wrap his hands around her waist as they swayed to the music. Spider wasn’t known to dance but it was surprisingly easy with Stasi, she wasn’t a petite girl by any means but she still felt light in his grasp. He wouldn’t let himself linger on the thought too long, and he tried his best to not encourage her teasing.
“You can expect us getting back to work, we should get out of here. If there’s no deal, we don’t have a reason to stay.” Spider said.
Sasha couldn't help but laugh a little at Sayuri's confidence in giving him "instructions", but he nodded his head nonetheless.
"Fine, I'll be there. Alone. But please be on time, I did promise my cousin I'd get her to Tokyo on this trip and I'd like to be done with business as soon as possible to keep that promise." He said.
---
"If there's no deal," Stasi began and stretched in Spider's grasp just far enough to snatch a bottle of something from a passing host's tray (much to the other woman's annoyance surely if her barking in the crowd was anything), "then we are free to do what we want, right? I want to stay for a few drinks." She grinned and her eyes had a look to them that said she wasn't going to take no for an answer. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
It was a long night of partying, celebrating the potential arms deal that was to be made tomorrow. But Sayuri’s work was just beginning; she needed to get the information Sasha needed to get rid of Joe for good.
Sayuri had to wait until everyone was asleep, and until everyone believed she was also asleep. She carried Joe home, piss drunk, with one of his arms slung over her shoulders; swaying dramatically against her. As drunk as he was, he was still able to roll on top of Mio, puffy and red faced from all the liquor, he’d rut into his wife before moving on then to Sayuri. Their sleeping arrangement was uncomfortable but not so uncommon among the girls who worked here, especially those who were with Yakuza, Sayuri was not the only one. In that room above the bar, there were rows of cots lined up symmetrically on the floor. For every one cot that occupied only a single girl, there were two more that a Yakuza, his wife, and his girlfriend shared. Sayuri had gotten good at leaving her body when Joe rolled on top of her. Sometimes she’d turn her head to the side and face Mio; even if she were to face away, when she was in an especially foul mood, she would. Mio was much prettier than Sayuri, and Mio never let her forget it. She was shorter and more petite than Sayuri, her face free from any scars or freckles, or birthmarks. Mio had the nicest hair in the whole house, Joe would make Sayuri tend to her hair. No matter the hour, if Mio presented her with a bar of rice water soap, Sayuri would carefully wash her lustrous black hair. It was long, black like oil, and Sayuri often styled it in a thick braid that trailed down her back; the little tail of the braid, ending just below her tailbone.
When Joe was on top of Sayuri, she looked at Mio, who stared back. Both women, unfeeling and numbed to what Joe would subject them to. Mio hated Sayuri for stealing any of Joe’s attention, and Sayuri hated Mio, for letting him. Sayuri didn’t want Joe, all she ever thought about was how to get away from him. She contemplated, if Mio hated her so much, she should help her escape. But it was much more satisfying to make Sayuri pay a price for being there at all. When Joe was through with the both of them, he drifted off to sleep on his side; arm stretched across them. Mio nodded off tonight facing away from Joe and Sayuri; leaving Sayuri sandwiched between them. She had gotten good over the years, feigning sleep. She could recreate the sound of sleeping breathing, imitating a slight snore. She even would grind her teeth gently sometimes, something so annoying that surely she wasn’t doing it on purpose. After awhile, Sayuri allowed her eyes to briefly flutter open; it took a moment for them to adjust to the dark, but it seemed that Joe and Mio were both turned away from her. It was good for slipping out of the cot, but she had to be careful since Mio was facing the staircase that lead down from the room to the bar.
Joe was paunchy, and the cots were cramped, to say they were packed tightly was an understatement. Sayuri had to take her time mostly, but also know when to hurry. Too much concentrated wriggling, was more like to rouse suspicious if either were to wake. Once her waist was where her head was meant to be on the pillow, she swiftly got up and tip toed around Joe’s side. She paused and kept a careful eye trained on the back of Mio’s head, waiting to see if she was disturbed at all. When she didn’t move and her breathing didn’t change, Sayuri continued to the stairs and tried her best to move quietly down them. The front of house was all locked up and shut down, it would remain so until the next evening. They were a snack bar, there was no need to be open to the public during the day. Only deviants and perverts visited, and they could obviously only come after the sun has gone down. So once down the stairs, there was no one for Sayuri to avoid or be careful of.
There wasn’t really room for storage in the shared room above, most kept their personal belongings in a bag. Since there was Mio and Sayuri keeping their personals upstairs, Joe had to keep his valuables downstairs. He had a briefcase that he had hidden in the kitchen, that served as both a safety deposit box, and an emergency to go bag. It was hidden in a cabinet under the sink, it was laid flat in the shadow of some pots and pans; not visible in the dim lighting of the kitchen. The briefcase had a lock but it no longer worked, Joe could never remember the combination to the lock, so he broke it.
Sayuri didn’t bother to look over her shoulder before popping open the case. She didn’t remove it from under the sink, and instead decided to reach under the sink to rifle through it. It wasn’t tidy, and it was hard to shuffle through things when a loaded glock rest atop his papers. Joe kept everything, so there were plenty of receipts of payment for various things, all on Yakuza dime. Bars, nightclubs, gun clubs and underground casino’s; Joe was gluttonous for all the nightlife had to offer. Finally, she found an invoice; the very guns mentioned in todays meeting, make, model and quantity, explicitly described in this transaction. There was another gang, outside the Yakuza, that he had sold the guns to. This was a betrayal most scandalous, not only was Joe about to slight the Nikitin family mafia, he would backstab the Yakuza themselves. Straining her eyes to read in the dark, Sayuri could see that the guns were being sold to the Chinese Dragons, rivals of the Yakuza.
“What are you doing?” A voice said from behind her.
Sayuri glanced over her shoulder then, her dark eyes meeting Mio’s.
Her hair was down and carefully gathered over her shoulder, she had shrugged on her robe and stood behind Sayuri with her arms crossed. Sayuri was too focused on reading the invoice, she wasn’t listening for Mio. A mistake she was about to pay for, but she had to play this right if she was still going to make it to Sasha.
“I was just going to make ramen.” Sayuri said, pulling a pot from under the sink.
She had a pretty good sleight of hand, she’d stuck the invoice under a pot, and closed the briefcase with another. She held up the pot to Mio, turning it to show all sides of it. Mio squinted her eyes at Sayuri, suspicious and already angry.
“Glutton. You’re disgusting.” Mio declared, her nose scrunching when she said it. Then, she rushed her, hurriedly closing the gap between them and snatching Sayuri up by the wrist that held the pot.
She jerked her around wildly to her feet, Sayuri knew better than to fight back, but still she did not return to her feet so easily. Mio made Sayuri drop the pot, and pushed her back onto the kitchen counter. Sayuri stifled a groan when she hit the counter, but Mio wasn’t finished. She pushed herself on top of her and pinned her wrists above her head onto the countertop. Holding her wrists, Mio fumbled for a knife from a nearby cutting board. They were having himono in the kitchen later today, so a fillet knife had been what was out. Tragically, the fish knives were made of silver. Sayuri only had time to notice the chosen blade before Mio stabbed the knife through both her hands. Sayuri’s breath hitched in her throat, and little tears pricked her eyes as she bit her lip to avoid letting out any sound. The flesh around the blade sizzled and seemed to steam; the blade unwavering as it remained transfixed through her hands. Sayuri let out a whimper, unable to resist writhing in pain under Mio’s frame.
They stayed like that for a moment, though the silver made every second spent pure agony. Finally, Mio wrenched the knife back out, making an awful sound as it was freed. Mio moved off of Sayuri, and she slumped against the counter, clutching her hands to her chest as she breathed hard through her nose. She just stared up at the ceiling, seething with rage as she fought back the impulse to tear Mio to shreds.
“Do you still feel like eating now?” Mio sneered, her gaze was triumphant, as though she really taught Sayuri a lesson.
“Yes.” Sayuri said through grit teeth, a hot tear rolling down her temple before dripping onto the counter under her. Though her eyes had teared up and she was in great pain, she still managed to muster a weak grin; only because she knew it would infuriate Mio.
“You are repulsive.” Mio spat before tossing the fish knife into the nearby sink. “If it weren’t so late, I’d have you eat yourself sick.” She said.
“I’m such a glutton, I may do that on my own, Mio no Kimi.” Sayuri said with a weak chuckle. The honorific was meant to be a slight, and Mio knew that. But Mio also kind of liked it, she believed that Sayuri was under her in terms of status, the suffix seemed fitting.
“I pray for it.” Mio said before adjusting her robe to her chest and departing.
Sayuri had regained her composure quickly, she had to. Though the front of house was all locked up, the windows in the kitchen were completely accessible to her. There were no screens to speak up, only little noren curtains hung above. After tucking the invoice into the waistband of her sleep shorts, she climbed onto the kitchen counter before slipping out the window. She was barefoot, but she didn’t particularly mind. Once her feet hit the pavement outside, she began her quiet jog to meet with Sasha.
Sasha had never been a smoker, but sometimes he wished that he was. He didn’t particularly like the acrid smell of cigarette smoke, which was ironic considering the vice addicted company he kept as his own foot soldiers, mafia clientele, and the like. He also knew how it looked to older family bosses and business associates when he turned down their offers of cigars and cigarettes; it made him look soft.
”Can’t handle the burn in your lungs, pup?” the old men would laugh at him. While Sasha had the satisfaction of knowing the lung cancer would kill these old human men long before he met his own end, their mocking bristled him still. It was belittling, especially given his status as an up and coming underboss and inheritor to his family’s empire, but it was better to hold his tongue and bite them later for their disrespect.
He also sometimes wished he smoked for times like these when he had nothing else to do to occupy his mind while he sat around waiting on business, or in this case Sayuri.
He was posted up on a bench at the appointed meeting place, idly rolling a half empty can of coffee he’d purchased from a vending machine between his palms. The train station was mostly empty, which surprised Sasha a bit considering how many drunken men in business suits he saw still roaming the streets on his way over.
He hadn’t told Spider, Stasi, or anyone else where he was going, insisting that he was just going on a stroll to sober up, though he hadn’t been drunk at all, not the way Stasi was and Spider was getting thanks to her. If Spider had been made aware of his meeting with Sayuri, he would have surely insisted on coming, sober or not, and Sasha had agreed to come alone and didn’t need to be guiding a not-totally sober Spider around the streets of Kobe.
He glanced at his watch and let out a little breath when he saw the hands ticking past one AM. Was Sayuri actually going to show up? _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Sayuri ran the whole way to the train station. She felt fortunate the streets were so clean, otherwise her feet would’ve been more badly abused. She didn’t mind it so much though, her fingers and toes burned from the cold; pinking angrily in color. She couldn’t really feel her feet, and her hands were numbed, taking away the angry sting on her hands from the fish knife.
She Sasha, alone and drinking a canned coffee; he looked expensive and bored, and she was so happy to see him. She could’ve run into his arms but she refrained.
“Hello! Sorry!” Her English sloppy, as she slowed to a stop, panting. She folded over at the waist, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Her running and the icy wind, worked in tandem; the color in her face focused on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her cheeks were deeply flushed, and made her zig zag patterned beauty marks, flourish in the contrast. Unfortunately she couldn’t dress more appropriately for the weather nor the errand. When Sayuri made it out of the bar tonight, it was only in her night clothes. She was thinly veiled in an oversized T-shirt with poorly translated English, it was heather gray and read, “dainty protagonist.” Her pajama pants had seen better days, the hem of them badly frayed from the run and the blue faded from time.
“You waited,” She panted, smiling from under her hair. Sayuri was putting pretty much all her eggs in this basket, he would’ve been right to leave, but she was so glad he stayed. “I’m sorry, again. I got caught in a snare.” She laughed with a sheepish wave of a hand.
Sasha smelled Sayuri before he saw her, wolf recognizing wolf. He looked up to see Sayuri running towards him, face pink and an eager smile on her face peaking through strands of unruly black hair.
His heart leapt, he was glad to see she had come after all.
He stood up and began his approach, but paused when she raised her hand, revealed an ugly gash in her palm. He dropped his canned coffee and strode forward to grab at her wrist, gently but urgently turning her hand over to look over the wound.
“What happened?” He demanded. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“It’s a longer story than I have time to tell.” Sayuri sighed, still catching her breath, though she didn’t recoil her hand from his.
She reached under her shirt to retrieve the stolen invoice, offering it to him with the free hand he wasn’t holding. It was damp, from being against her skin while running; not ideal but it was the best she could do. The ink was still clear and legible though, the invoice was in English; since the English speaking was mostly up to Joe anyways, it was discreet in that way.
Sasha did a double between Sayuri’s hand and the paper. He blinked and released her hand to tentatively take the paper from her. He briefly scanned over it and then looked up to Sayuri’s pinkened face.
“Is this the arms contract?” He asked, but then shook his head, taking her hand back up. “Nevermind, we need to take care of this. What cut you? Was it silver?” He asked, noting the telltale burns in the stab wound itself. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“Yes, silver.” Sayuri nodded, watching him inspect her hand. “What will you do, about the deal?” She asked, still less concerned with her hand, but content to have Sasha’s attention over it.
“Well, not broker one with him, clearly.” Sasha said, short and sweet as he continued to fuss at her hand. “We should go to a pharmacy and get saline. It’s not a perfect fix, but it will clear out any particles the blade might have left behind. Where’s the nearest one?” He shoved the document into his pocket and pulled light at Sayuri’s wrist to coax her along. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Sayuri’s cheeks were still flushed from running, hot and rosy colored. But if she thought about, no one had ever held her hand; not since she was little and her mother would hold it. The notion would’ve made her cheeks burn, had they not already been burning. But then, she laughed, it was an incredulous one; she couldn’t believe he would worry about something like this.
“There aren’t pharmacies open this late. Don Quijote Sannomiya is near by, it’s a 24 hour discount store, they might have your saline there.” She said then, pulling him lightly towards the correct direction.
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