Reunited – Chapter 25

By the time we leave, it’s after seven, and the sky is darkened and dotted with clouds. We walk down the hill hand-in-hand, Oninoten and Kazenoho on our backs, and make our way to the center of town.

People are out in the streets, coming and going from restaurants, bars, and homes. Old men sit on front stoops laughing and playing dominos. A group of young people in their late twenties (older than me but still young) congregate outside of a cafe drinking coffee and eating baked goods that make my mouth water and my head turn of its own volition.

Around the corner into the business district, the old-theater-turned-casino towers above us, brightly lit and busy. Maeda still hasn’t named his shining wonder, and the inside is bare compared to Akaboshi. Maeda’s restaurant is open along with two bars, and blackjack, roulette, and poker tables, but no slots, no shops, nothing else. Also, no surveillance which has been an interesting problem for him. He decided to make the casino invitation-only until video surveillance can be installed, therefore keeping crowds to a minimum and only letting in guests he was familiar with.

We’re greeted at the door by our old friend, Ian Kondo. He was the General Manager of Akaboshi in Nishikyō and now runs the casino here on Yūsei. He smiles as we bow to each other in greeting.

Jiro’s hand finds mine, and he pulls me close to his side as we follow Ian’s lead. We snake through the main floor of the casino, and I greet at least a dozen people along the way — merchants, politicians, and members of both Minamoto and Maeda clan. I’m demurely dressed in a kimono, but my cheeks are flushed, glowing with post-sex happiness. Everyone smiles at me and I smile back easily. Their eyes zero in on Jiro’s hand holding mine, and I try to let go, but he holds on tighter.

I glance over my shoulder, sure that Kazuo Uchiyama must be here. He followed me to the casino before and was near me that whole evening. No. He’s not there.

We’re led to a private dining room off the side of the restaurant and asked to sit at a table laden with food.

“Oyama?” Another door to the side opens, Oyama enters with two glasses, and I breathe a sigh of relief. The last thing I want is to show up at Maeda’s casino and refuse his food because my dokumiyaku isn’t here.

“Relax,” Jiro whispers, pushing my stick-straight hair off my shoulders and neck. He puts his warm hand where my hair just was and massages my tense shoulders. They knotted up the whole way here.

“I can’t, Jiro. I know exactly what’s going to happen here…” Maeda enters the room as Oyama reaches us with our drinks. The annoyingly insistent prickle at the back of my mind returns, but I push it aside and smile at Oyama.

“I found Scotch for you, Sanaa, and bourbon for Jiro. I hope you enjoy it.”

I pass the glass under my nose and take a deep breath. The scent is everything I remember I love about Scotch. Strong alcohol with a hint of caramel and vanilla. I sip it and let the amber liquid coat my tongue and throat.

“Miss Itami, it’s so good to see you again!” Maeda strides forward with a big smile on his face, and the only word in my head is ‘bullshit.’ He has done everything possible to ignore me and my messages since he landed, and only now, when he’s staked his territory and built up his walls, is he willing to talk to me. Jiro pinches my arm before I can lash out at Maeda and ruin everything.

The best I can do is bow and say, “Maeda.”

That’s it. Shit. I didn’t realize how pissed off I was until he was standing in front of me. He never swore his allegiance, has ignored me since landing, and is now trying to act like we’re the best of friends. I have half a mind to blow my top at him right now. My face blushes, and Jiro’s eyes over the top of his glass are wary. He should be wary. I am on the verge.

Instead of letting my rage boil up molten hot, I become a frosty mix of acid, wit, and sarcasm. “Your casino is looking mighty fine.” I cock the barest of smiles in his direction and do not blink away eye contact over the lip of my drink.

“As are you. I’ve only seen you in kimono the one other time.” The time I commanded him to bow before me.

“It’s a bit chilly for little black dresses, unfortunately. Perhaps in the summer.”

“You’re always welcome here.” He smiles again, his lips cutting across his boyish overlarge face. He didn’t lose any weight in hibernation.

“I should hope so. This is my town after all.”

Jiro stiffens next to me but humor dances in his eyes. He thinks I’m being confident, but I’m not. I’m moments away from Maeda’s betrayal, and why not? Betrayal seems to be the order of the day.

The food on the table is luxurious, and I’m sure it will go to waste if I don’t start eating right now, so I walk over, pick up a plate, and help myself to some greens and pasta.

Maeda waits, thinking over my rebuttal. It is my town. Nothing happens here without me knowing about it. Nothing is accomplished without my approval. I’ve never exercised my power for anything other than the safety and benefit of everyone who comes here, but now I’m going to try something different.

“Maeda, where do you see yourself in five years’ time?” I pop a small tomato into my mouth and hand a plate to Jiro. He takes it quietly, fills it with food and sits down at the table, alternately eating and watching me.

Maeda hasn’t moved from his spot. “Here in Yamato. The casinos open and running and more citizens from Earth living amongst us.”

“And you expect this to happen how? Because I see you dead within the year.”

He freezes in place, and his bodyguard at the door tenses, his hand poised over the grip of his sword.

“Oh, fear not. You will not be seeing Kazenoho tonight. In fact, the outlook on my own life, on the lives of all citizens of Yamato, is quite similar. Mmmm, this salad is delicious, by the way.” A crisp selection of greens and pasta in a sesame vinaigrette. I have to get Oyama to make this at home. “We did not end up the only people on this world.” I gesture to the other chair at the table and Maeda cautiously sits after unbuttoning his suit.

“I know Fujiwara rules here.” He gives this information over grudgingly, like I didn’t already know. Please. Give me a break.

“How do you feel about Fujiwara? How do you feel about your fellow clan leaders all begging at Fujiwara’s feet? Because that’s what they’re doing right now. Both Taira and Minamoto.”

I try to shovel as much food into my mouth as possible while still managing to be ladylike. I’m so hungry, and this meeting is about to go into the toilet. I can only hope Miko has something ready for me when I walk in the door at Izakaya Tanaka in an hour.

“I’ll admit I’m unhappy about it,” he confesses. “The last thing this world needs is another clan head. As for Minamoto and Taira, what can I say? We have never agreed in the past. I doubt we ever will now.”

“I’ve been to the town to the north of us. I’ve seen the people and how they live. Fujiwara rules his domain with an iron fist. Tell me, do you have statistics on who spends the most money at your casinos? Men or women?”

He thinks for a moment, considering whether or not this information is something he’s willing to let go of. Maeda loves having an advantage over his adversaries and anything he knows and others do not is priceless. He signals the guard forward with his tablet.

“It’s pretty even though the men slightly outweigh the women. Why?”

“You wouldn’t like it if half your business disappeared then.”

“Absolutely not. Half my business means no business.”

“In Izumo, they have a curfew for women — ten PM — and women are not allowed to buy alcohol. If they have casinos, women are not allowed in them either.”

Maeda’s small, dark eyes bore into me as he drums his fingers on his knee. “You’re not lying.” It’s not a question. He can tell. I shake my head. “And this is law?”

“Yes. We’re on the opposite coast of the capital, and my guess is the capital is even more conservative than Izumo. If we were to live under Fujiwara, every freedom that we value, all of our technology and advancements, would be in jeopardy. Is that what you want?”

“Obviously, I won’t be taking you at your word, Miss Itami.”

“Excuse me?” Jiro sits forward, ready to give Maeda a severe tongue-lashing for his rudeness, but I hold up my hand.

“Fine. You don’t believe me. Send your own men to find out, but be careful not to give us away yet. The people here live like ancient times, like Heian period Japan. Any show of technology or too much English will send them into a panic.”

I dab at my lips with the napkin and set it down next to the plate. “The main problem is Minamoto and Taira are close to giving us away to Fujiwara, if they haven’t already. He’ll be coming for us, for me, sooner rather than later. What’s it going to be? You either stand with me against Fujiwara and whomever supports him, or you stand against me.”

Maeda doesn’t even blink. He knew it would come to this, and his situation as a businessman means he’s stuck right in the middle of a conflict. He can’t just pick up and go. He has to stay and protect his investment.

“Before I answer, may I ask what it is you want of me should I pledge my support?”

“A fair and honest question. You wish to know my terms before signing on the dotted line. I need skilled men and women who are willing to travel the continent, who are willing to fight. This may not come to war, but I suspect it will. Yoshinori Minamoto has acted hastily and without his family’s consent. The rest of his clan does not back him, they back me. With your help we could defend this city and keep Fujiwara out.”

Sitting back in my chair, I lift the glass of Scotch to my lips and take a long sip. It tastes different from how I remember, and then my eyes focus on the clear block floating in the tawny liquid. It’s not the Scotch, it’s the ice. The Scotch tastes of Yūsei now, earthier, heavier with more minerals. Nishikyō water was sterile compared to the spring water here. Swirling the ice in the glass, I watch it dance around while Maeda contemplates my demands.

“I’m assuming this is a negotiation?”

Not a straight-up refusal then? Only a small betrayal? “It can be.”

“I’m not willing to send my men and women off to war on a strange continent against someone I’m not even sure is my enemy. How do I know that life under Fujiwara would be any different from life under you?”

Dunes, deep blue sky, passive face. I want to kick Maeda in the groin right now. I keep my face passive but my breathing becomes shallow and labored.

“So until I can see Izumo for myself and what it’s like, I propose a compromise,” he says, smiling with his palms up and out. “I will not pledge to send anyone to the capital or on patrol, but since my people live here too, I promise to defend Yamato from attack. I cannot fully support you. That would be disrespectful to my clan brothers and sisters. But, still, they must be protected, as must all the citizens of Earth.”

I knew he wasn’t going to support me — there was just no way — but my life is less important than the lives of those I protect. I will have to accept this deal if he can provide protection in Yamato. I’m not done with Maeda, though. If I make it out of this situation alive, he’s going to pay dearly for this.

I glance across at Jiro, and he nods. This is the best compromise we’ll get right now.

“Very well. You will defend the city, but I’m afraid there will be a cost for not sending troops.” I plaster on a sad expression and a little girl’s pout as I stand up with my drink. “Your current city tax is three percent, right?” Maeda blanches before frowning and narrowing his eyes at me. “We’ll need extra resources to make up for loss of troops, and I will need to pull from my biggest earners in the city. Your tax is hereby doubled to six percent. I’ll make sure Lucy redrafts your paperwork in the morning, and she’ll also be by soon to talk about city fortifications with you and your bosses. I’m glad you can help out in this time of need.”

Ouch. Too bad, Maeda. I hit him where it hurts him the most, his profits.

“Yes, Miss Itami,” Maeda rises to meet me. “I’m sure that’s more than… fair.” He bows to cover up his expression, but the word comes out like the growl of a wild animal.

“I’m glad we could do business again.” I extend my hand, and he raises it to his lips and lightly kisses my knuckles.

Time to move on for the night.