Revealed – Chapter 26

Jiro taps his foot impatiently under the table at Izakaya Tanaka, waiting for Sanaa to show up for their date. He’s early tonight, already secured a booth for dinner, and in a few minutes, Miko and Yoichi will join them too. He’s been hoping Yoichi will warm to Sanaa after the argument they had before the okiya the other night, and this will give them a chance to talk and get to know each other.

Sanaa had the day off today, and they spent the time apart, something they haven’t done in a long time. He missed her, missed their conversations and shared dōjō time. Sanaa probably didn’t miss it as much as he did though. He chuckles remembering how hard he’s been on her lately, working her until she was a sweaty, broken mess every day this past week. He should apologize.

At seven o’clock, right on time, the izakaya door opens and Sanaa ducks into a roaring welcome from all the staff. Her face bursts into a blush when she makes eye contact with him across the room, laughing at her popularity and loving friends.

Jiro tries to calm his bouncing leg while she quietly speaks with Miko and Yoichi at the bar, but his heart picks up pace as she approaches him at the table. Like him, she’s dressed in black tonight, a light kimono coat draped over her shoulders and cinched at the waist, and her hair is twisted up. She’s even wearing a little makeup — not a lot, though, just a little. Simple and easy.

“Good evening, Sanaa.” He gestures to the seat on the inside of the booth between him and the wall, and she moves past him and sits down, smoothing out her hair and smiling shyly at him. Her temples are pink with blush, and he squashes the desire to wrap his arms around her and squeeze her.

“How are you? It was strange not having our usual practice session this afternoon,” she says, taking a sip of the water.

“It was strange. I didn’t know what to do with myself. And I’m fine… happy,” he says, smiling at her.

She reaches over and slides her hand easily into his. “Me too.”

Chase her, Miko said, and Sanaa is ready to be caught. She’s within reach. For a few seconds, Jiro believes they’ll kiss right here, right in front of everyone in the restaurant. He leans in as she does, his heart rushing and her breath caught in her throat… But then a waiter comes by with a bottle of saké and ruins it. The carafe hits the table with a thump and knocks both of them back from each other.

Damn. He was so close! That was uncalled for.

Jiro clears his throat, and Sanaa’s entire body blushes bright crimson.

“Saké, Sanaa?” He doesn’t even wait for a response, just pours.

“Yes, absolutely.” She squeezes his hand. “That waiter has the worst timing ever.”

Jiro laughs and kisses her on the neck instead, right below her ear, and his head and hers are so close together that her cheek sinks against his for a moment. He could stay right here forever, his lips pressed against her skin. It’s all he’s wanted for weeks.

Except, that’s not true. He wants more than just this.

“Mmmm,” he says, pulling away and squeezing her hand. “I hope you haven’t eaten. We ordered a lot of food.” He strokes his thumb across her hand a few times before he lets go.

“Nope. I had ramen with Helena in Ku 5, and then I…”

“What?” he asks while loading up his plate with dumplings.

She sighs and sips on saké. “Well…”

Her hesitation is enough to pique his interest, and when he turns to her, her bottom lip is sandwiched between her teeth. Whatever it is, it’s big.

“Spit it out. What’s going on?”

“So, we talked about Tadao Matsuda last time we were here.” He nods his head, his eyes boring into her. He reads her pulse and her pupils, and both are on the edge of panic. “I do know him. I watch all these people for Mark, and he’s one of them. A few days ago I watched him beat a man to death in front of the cameras.”

Jiro stiffens. His muscles are tense, and he’s barely breathing. Sanaa’s panic has turned to fear. She must have seen more than she should have. What could it have been? A hit job? A sudden burst of rage? Matsuda is capable of anything.

“And today I found him watching me at the ramen shop.”

He sets his chopsticks down forcefully on the plate, and they roll in different directions. “You what? What happened?”

“You’re gonna laugh,” she says with a chuckle, trying to diffuse and lighten the mood, but he’s not laughing. “I thought about what you were teaching me about offensive sword fighting, and I basically stared him down until he went back to his noodles.”

A hint of a smile graces Jiro’s face. Just a hint. She’s definitely the best student he’s ever had.

“And then I gave up any idea of having a day without work, went to Ku 1, and watched Matsuda on video. Turns out he’s been following me for about a week now.”

Jiro cycles through options in his head. There’s no way Matsuda is interested in Sanaa purely because she’s connected to Jiro or Sakai in some way. Who is she? Under the surface of what he’s already seen, she’s important somehow.

“Jiro, say something before I faint.”

“Matsuda is… following you.” He clutches the edge of the table with such force his fingertips turn white. How will he protect her from him? “He’s a killer.”

Sanaa hesitantly touches the tops of his hands and slides her fingers under his, prying them from the table top. “I know. And I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not going to find out until I talk to Mark tomorrow.”

“Let’s talk to him tonight. Right now.”

She sighs and closes her eyes, her pulse quickening in her temple. Concentrating on his cold hands in hers, she massages his fingers with her thumbs. “No. Not right now. Not tonight. Please.”

She sounds desperate for normalcy, and Jiro can’t really blame her. It’s been one thing after another lately keeping them apart.

“Sanaa, I want…” Jiro wants to take her to Sakai building and keep her there until they figure things out. He wants to never leave her side. He wants a million things…

She shakes her head as Miko and Yoichi approach them. “We’re about to have company. Let’s eat. We’ll work this out later.”

Sanaa does everything she can to soothe his roiling emotions during dinner and conversation. She smiles at him, presses her side into his, and lets her fingers play along his under the table. In this case, she should be the terrified one, but she’s not. She’s cool and doing her best to calm him. Funny how their roles reversed so smoothly. They steadily clear out the appetizers, sushi, and saké, and everything is delicious. Jiro, though, can’t stop planning and strategizing in his head. This is only a calm moment before everything erupts in chaos, he’s sure of it.

“The food was delicious, Miko. Kagetora is amazing as always,” Sanaa says turning to Jiro. “Jiro, would you let me out? I’ll be back in a minute.”

Jiro watches Sanaa leave for the bathroom, worry and tension following her straight to the door.

“I’m going to go check on the kitchen,” Miko says, also standing up with Yoichi at her side. “Sorry, Jiro. Duty calls.”

“I understand, of course. Yoichi?”

Yoichi glances down at Jiro. “I see someone I’d like to say hello to. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Leaving Jiro alone at the table, he has nothing to do but stare into space for a moment. All the other tables around them are occupied, men and women laughing and eating, pouring each other saké. Miko runs a fantastic establishment. Her parents must be proud of her. Jiro suspects his own mother is proud of Yoichi for finally settling on a prosperous girlfriend. He wonders what his parents will think of Sanaa when he tells them they’re really dating.

Turning his attention away from the next table over, his eye catches the sliding door of one of the private rooms near the back of the izakaya opening. Jiro sits up, alert and poised to jump. Matsuda is emerging from the room and slipping his shoes on.

What the hell is he doing here? Matsuda rises to his full height, flips his dirty brown hair back off his face, and heads towards the restrooms.

Sanaa is still in the restroom.

What should he do? Should he confront Matsuda? Tell him to get lost? Or maybe he should sit here and hope that the two don’t see each other? The bathrooms are around a corner, and Jiro doesn’t have a direct line of sight to them.

Counting to fifty slowly in his head, Jiro calms his heart and concentrates on the sounds of the restaurant around him. Can he hear the restroom doors opening and closing? No, the ambient noise is too loud.

By the time he reaches fifty, Jiro can’t wait any longer. He rises from the table and slowly makes his way around the tables towards the back hallway.

He rounds the corner just in time. Sanaa is between him and Matsuda standing near a public terminal.

“So, Sanaa Griffin, are you following me now? Or should I call you Hanako?”

“Uh…” She stammers. “I think you’re the one following me actually.”

Matsuda smiles, taking a small step backwards. “How was your ramen today?” he asks.

“Excellent. Yours?”

“Their noodles are getting a little soft for my taste.”

“Back off, Matsuda,” Jiro growls, all his senses coming to alert status with a rush of adrenaline.

Sanaa whips her head around, relief washing over her face.

“You wouldn’t want to cause a scene, now, would you?” Matsuda asks, a little hint of laughter tinting his rhetorical question.

Jiro pulls Sanaa to the side.

“If you don’t want a scene then you should be on your way.” Jiro steps in front of Sanaa, keeping her to his back. Matsuda grins as he walks past.

“Don’t forget to ask Sakai about your aunts, Sanaa.”

Jiro takes several steps backwards, slowly pushing Sanaa towards the door to the back alley. Matsuda walks to the last of the private rooms, opens the door, and glances at them as he enters, closing the door behind him.

Jiro turns and pushes her out the door. “Let’s go. Hurry!”

“Jiro, I can’t leave Miko back at the table… and my bag!”

“We’re not leaving for good.” He surveys the rear of the restaurant and pulls Sanaa around to the side alley between the two buildings. Near the end of the alley is a pile of delivery crates, and he runs to them.

“Here, help me with this.” Jiro starts grabbing and stacking crates against the building. He’s going to get some answers.

“What are you doing?”

“Look.” And he points upward. About two and a half meters above them is a long line of windows along the length of the building. She jumps right next to Jiro and stacks two crates up. He climbs and holds out his hand to grab hers.

Despite the drink, they are both light on their feet and nimble. The crates barely creak as they straighten up to peer over the edge.

“You think she followed you here?” says a female voice out of visibility. That’s definitely Emiko Matsuda. Jiro’s been in enough meetings with her to pick her out of a line-up blindfolded.

“No. I get the impression she was here with Jiro Itō or maybe someone else. He came out and confronted us.”

“Did you see Mark Sakai?” Emiko slides the rice paper door open. “I don’t see any of them in the restaurant. Maybe you scared them off.”

“So, you’re certain, Tadao? Absolutely certain?” Jiro’s heart and breathing stops. He’d recognize this voice anywhere. It’s Yoshinori Minamoto, Kentaro’s father.

“She is the spitting image of her mother. All the way down to her voice. I’m certain.”

“Then the kiku line was not destroyed as we thought it was.”

“Kiku? What’s that?” Sanaa whispers at Jiro. He shakes his head, unable to explain to her where he’s heard this term before. Nothing makes sense.

“Perhaps even she doesn’t know.”

“Mark Sakai is behind this somehow. We’ll have to do some more digging and figure it out.” Matsuda sounds angry, his voice a dull roar.

“But it’s been over fifteen years. How were we to know she was still alive?”

“We should go before they come back or anyone else sees us.” Emiko rises and everyone else follows her out of the private room. What the hell is going on? Jiro’s had enough of all the secrets and lies, and knowing these animals are discussing Sanaa behind closed doors chills him.

Jiro and Sanaa jump down from their crates, and she stumbles. He forgot they were drinking heavily during dinner because the adrenaline erased the alcohol from his system. He reaches out and grabs her before she falls over. They run together to the back of the building again.

“Kiku? Have you ever heard that before?” Jiro asks. She shakes her head. This must mean it’s something Sakai has tried to keep secret.

“Jiro. Jiro, they were talking about me. What in the hell is going on?”

He grabs her hand, thoughts of confessing everything he knows flying through his brain. He should tell her she’s in danger, that she’s part of some greater conspiracy even he knows nothing of.

“I…” He falters and just looks at her. He can see in her round, deep brown eyes how scared and helpless she feels right now.

But scared and helpless don’t last long. Those feelings change suddenly as the heat of her body closes in, and her lips lean into his and connect. All the drama of the last ten minutes fades away as he brings his hands to her face and directs her in a slow, passionate, steady kiss.

He’s never kissed anyone like this before, like they were meant for each other. Melanie always pushed him away, but Sanaa pulls him closer. She fits her body right up against his, letting her hands clutch at his back. When she relaxes against him, it drives him insane with lust and jacks up his senses. He can taste every bit of her on his lips, smell her skin, and hear her panting breaths. She moans and all the blood in his body pools between his legs.

He breaks apart from her quickly before he loses himself and stares into her eyes.

“We’re not going to regret this, are we?” she asks, a note of hesitation in her voice. Maybe she doubted how he feels about her, so he smiles and brushes back the hair that’s fallen on her face. He looks into her eyes and memorizes her expression now. This is how he wants to always think of her — bright, fearful yet confident, and heightened with desire.

She huffs a small smile and reaches out to run her fingers through his hair. Her fingertips entwine in the giant strand of white hair he always tries to hide behind the rest of his mop. He sighs, turning his cheek into her hand, and shakes his head.

“No. This is something I won’t ever regret.”