Chapter Text
If Kojiro Nanjo were to describe himself, he’d use terms like: big, muscular, handsome, fair .
If someone else were to describe Kojiro Nanjo they’d most likely use terms like: scary, ruthless, criminal, violent.
Hmm, tomatos, tomatoes.
It wasn’t his fault that people didn’t do what they were supposed to do. If he loaned someone money and they didn’t pay it back, it was only fair of him to go after what he was due. Arguably, his methods could be considered scary or violent or criminal but all's fair in love and war.. or rather in loans and repayment.
He didn’t get where he was by taking out loans and not paying them back; he got where he was by stealing money and killing whoever would even think of asking for it back. A real entrepreneur if he was going to be completely honest about it.
He handled his debts so it was only fair that the Sakurayashiki family handled theirs.
Their loan had been nothing to scoff at and when they’d come to him, all elegance and poise in their old money clothes he’d laughed. There wasn’t anything he thought he could offer a family whose name had well been established while his great-great-grandfather was still warm and cozy in his great-great-great grandfather’s balls.
But gambling is a funny thing, a short rush that takes a hard dive when the numbers go down. One day you’re betting on a horse and the next day you’re shoveling crap as a stable hand because you’ve lost it all. Well, the proud Master Sakurayashiki refused to let such a thing happen to his family, despite the fact that his wife wouldn’t look at him and her pale hand trembled with poorly concealed rage every time he opened his mouth. The thing about those old money families was that they would rather die miserably together than admit fault and get a divorce like normal people.
“Cute kid,” Kojiro jerked a thumb at a photo sitting on Sakurayashiki’s desk. A pink haired kid no older than six sat under a cherry blossom tree, his eyes wide with wonder as he held out a small hand and a petal drifted into it. Mrs. Sakurayashiki immediately slammed the photo facedown, as if Kojiro were some creep that liked to pick up literal children. He prickled with offense. “Relax. Not that cute, lady.”
Kojiro circled the desk once more, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he whistled a tune far more jolly than the situation called for. Some old Italian love song that his grandfather used to affectionately croon out to his grandmother on the balcony of their little house hidden away in Italy. Kojiro went there once in the summer, when he asked to stay forever he was told he had business back home.
“The terms are that I want all of my money paid back in full by this time next year with twenty percent interest.”
“Twenty? That’s rid–”
“Did I say twenty? I meant thirty.” Kojiro fished around in his breast pocket for his silver cigarette case, flipping it open and lighting up. Sakurayashiki frowned as Kojiro blew smoke into the clean air of the pristine study, but remained tight-lipped. Smart man. “If it’s not paid back, I’ll take…” his gaze flicked over the walls of the lavish home, the nice cars lined up in the driveway and then all the way back to the picture frame, slammed hastily down onto the desk. “That kid of yours.”
“Kaoru?” The lady of the house’s voice cracked. “But you said–”
“You have to be joking!” Sakurayashiki snapped, standing up and slamming his hands on the wooden surface. Kojiro shrugged, nonchalant as he toyed with his smoke between his teeth. The lit tip taunted, up and down before he took a deep inhale and exhaled into the space between them. Sakurayashiki coughing as Kojiro brought the cherry down in between the man’s spread pointer and middle fingers, smearing it into the wood as it sizzled out and left a dark mark in its wake.
“Sit down.” Sakurayashiki fell back into his seat, dumbfounded. Kojiro flicked the crumpled cigarette into the man’s lap, just to be a dick. “So Kaoru is his name, huh? Listen, I don’t like kids. I don’t deal in kids. It’s sick. But money is money. I know some nasty people who might like a sweet little something like him.”
“But he’s–”
“It won’t be a problem, will it, Sakurayashiki?” Kojiro pressed a finger into the burn mark on the desk, smearing some ash across the surface before flipping the picture frame up and inspecting it. Without warning, he brought it down onto the corner of the desk with force, the glass shattered and Mrs. Sakurayashiki shrieked, hands clasped to her mouth. “You won’t have to ever worry about me getting a hold of your precious little boy, just so long as you pay me back. Pay your debts so he doesn’t have to.” He flicked a few broken pieces of glass out of the way and plucked the picture from its frame, folding it up and holding it between his fingers. “I’ll hold onto this, as a reminder.”
“You’re a monster.”
“We’ll talk in a year.” Kojiro grinned on his way out, knocking an expensive looking vase off a shelf and watching it shatter. “I’ll see myself out. It’s been a pleasure doing business.”
The door to the study closed behind him and his man was immediately at his side. “The lady screamed.”
“Thanks for the instant replay, Reki.”
“What did you do?” The teen, if he could even be called that as he was only a few days short of his twentieth birthday, frowned disapprovingly. Kojiro had thought more than once that the redhead was too sweet for the underworld, but when your father walks out on you, your mother, your sick grandmother and three little sisters, you do what you have to do. And Reki, despite his sunshine nature, always did what needed to be done.
“I uh–” Kojiro scratched the back of his neck, wondering why as a man in his mid thirties and a terrifying boss of the underworld, he was allowing himself to be scolded by a kid with maybe three full pubes, “I threatened to take their kid.”
“Oh, ew!”
“They were pissing me off and taking too long. A man like that needs to be hit where it hurts. And that’s the bloodline.”
“What are you gonna do if you have to actually take the kid?”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” Kojiro waited for Langa to pull the car around front before sliding into the backseat, Reki climbing gracelessly in after him. “Stop pouting. I don’t want it to come to that anymore than you do. Regardless, I need you to remind me to collect in a year.”
“Sicko.”
“What?” Langa spun fully in his seat, despite the fact that he was driving. He ran over a flowerbed.
“Dude, turn around.” Reki flicked Langa’s cheek and bit his cheek as he watched Kojiro stuff the folded up photo into the Sakurayashiki file and begrudgingly took it when it was offered. He shoved it under his arm and said disdainfully, “Joe is kidnapping children now.”
“Don’t forget your place, Reki.” Kojiro said lowly, sinking down into the seat with an arm thrown over his eyes. “Let’s hope that a year from now I don’t have to add kidnapping to my rap sheet. It’s really been a hell of a day.”
“It’s nine in the morning.”
“Fuck.”
—
One might think that threatening to take a child as collateral for a loan would be something that a guy would remember, but to be fair, Kojiro had a lot more going on than a few bucks loaned to some uptight pricks. So a year came and went and he didn’t think about the kid again until his loan remained completely unpaid. Almost a month past it’s due.
“Hey, Ding-Dongs.” Kojiro tossed an orange at Reki and Langa, who were chatting merrily over beers commandeered from Kojiro’s fridge. He had to stifle a laugh as it bounced off Langa’s forehead and then hit Reki on the chin. “Which one of you was supposed to remind me of the Sakurayashiki loan?”
“Reki.”
“Langa.”
“Reki?”
“Langa?”
“I swear to God the two of you share half a brain cell.”
“Thanks.” Langa started peeling the orange Kojiro tossed at them. He popped a piece in his mouth and then spoke around it. “This one was definitely Reki’s though. He called you a sicko.”
“Oh my god, you’re right.” Reki slapped a hand against his forehead and looked towards Kojiro liked a kicked puppy. “I’m sorry, Joe. I think I blocked it ‘cause of the whole kid thing.”
“Okay, well now you two get to go out and collect the kid for me because this loan,” Kojiro smacked the file against the table and made them both jump, “has not been paid.”
“Joe, I don’t want to kidnap a kid.” Reki shifted uneasily in his seat.
“I don’t want a kid. But I said what I said a year ago and there is no going back on it. So you two go grab the kid, I’m paying a visit to the Sakurayashiki’s to give them one final chance to come up with the money.”
The both hesitated and Kojiro kicked the table leg. “Now!”
The pair scrambled to their feet and out the door, most likely off to the kid’s school or off to find Miya. Miya, somehow, knew everything about everyone and Kojiro suspected that the teen had somehow hacked into some sort of database and was just gathering knowledge on everyone in Naha.
“Oka, let’s go.” Kojiro grumbled as he headed out the front of his manor, grabbing Oka by the back of the shirt and spinning him around.
“I haven’t even gone inside yet!” Oka complained, easily falling into step.
“Well you don’t have to. We’re off to Sakuryashiki’s place and I need an extra set of hands.”
The drive was tense, Oka gave up pretty quickly on starting any conversation when it became apparent that Kojiro wasn’t going to respond other than a few grunts here or there. “Stay out here, I’ll shout if I need you inside. This shouldn’t take too long. I was due to visit them two and a half weeks ago but Reki didn’t remind me, so they’re most likely not expecting me.”
They walked up the stairs, expensive shoes loud on the marble steps and Kojiro straightened his jacket as Oka lit up a smoke off to the side, leaning casually against a pillar. His gold chain glinted in the sunlight and Kojiro clicked his tongue impatiently, adjusting his own as he rapped his knuckles against the door.
It was Mrs. Sakurayashiki that answered, his cheeks more hollow than when he’d seen her a year ago. She was still lovely, striking golden eyes and dark hair, lower lip trembling at the sight of him. How a twat like Sakurayashiki managed to get a girl like that was beyond him. “Ding dong.” She tried to slam the door and he stopped it with his foot, shouldering his way in past her slight frame. “I believe I have some unfinished business with your husband.”
“K-Kaoru isn’t here.” She drew herself up, “You can’t have him.”
“Listen I don’t even really want the kid but a deal is a deal.” Kojiro invited himself to the study where he’d met with them a year ago and sat down at the desk, tapping a nail against the burn mark he’d left. “Better go get your husband before I get impatient. I tend to get a bit agitated when I’m kept waiting.”
She hesitated, like she had more to say before she started out the door. “Wait. Leave your cell on the desk please.” With a withering look she stalked forward and placed it down out of his reach and he chuckled. “Go on. Go and fetch–”
A commotion from outside interrupted him and he sighed heavily as Oka dragged in a frantic Sakurayashiki by the scruff, tossing him towards the desk. “Tried to make a run for it. Had a bag packed with cash and a passport. Dirtbag was gonna just ditch his wife and kid.”
“Unfortunate. Now that you’ve hurt my feelings, I’m gonna have to take something else. Oka, toss me his bag.”
Kojiro dumped the bag out on the desk, inspecting the contents carefully. A few changes of clothes, basic toiletries and wads of cash tumbled out, a small car key landing delicately on top of the pile. Kojiro picked it up and tossed it to Oka. “Good work today,” he pitched his voice like an annoying tv show host, “ you’ve earned a brand new car!”
Oka snorted, pocketing the key. “I don’t need another but I won’t say no.”
“Please take the lady of the house outside. She didn’t make any deals with me so she doesn’t have to be here.” Kojiro stood, watching with satisfaction as Sakurayashiki’s wife turned on her heel and left him without a word, the man looking after her disdainfully. Kojiro lit up a smoke, rolling the filter between his fingers before sliding it between his lips. “Happy marriage you got there.”
“Fuck you.”
“That’s not nice, after everything I’ve done for you.”
“You destroyed my marriage.”
“I’ve done a lot of things in my time, but I’ll keep it real with you. I didn’t do anything to your marriage but give you the opportunity to save it. If you’d paid me back, none of this would be happening. Your wife would regard you as the man who saved the family. Saved your son .” Kojiro drummed his fingers on the desk, smoothing the pad of his index finger over the burn mark. Then without warning, he reached out and grabbed Sakurayashiki’s wrist, dragging his open hand over the burn mark and crushing his lit cigarette into the center of his palm. The man screamed and thrashed, but Kojiro wasn’t built like a brick wall for show. “Everything that has happened thus far,” the skin around the extinguished cigarette was already bubbled and blistering, stinking up the room something fierce, “has been your own fault. Now I could remove a digit, or maybe I could trash all your cars and burn your house to the ground. But I think that won’t be what really gets to you. Guys like you always have money stashed away, ready to make a fresh start somewhere hidden. Shameful, but alive and comfortable. Knowing that your bloodline will carry on whatever needs to be done back here. But I’m going to make sure that you, Sakurayashiki, are responsible for the complete downfall of your family line. So, I’m taking little Kaoru-chan.”
“Take that brat for all I care.” Sakurayashiki snarled, fingers curling around his burnt palm. Kojiro felt his stomach flip in disgust. Maybe he should do the world a favor and just kill this guy. Sakurayashiki was still talking, going mad with rage. “I’ll just have another one.” Oh, Kojiro could do one better than killing now.
“Hm,” Kojiro pulled out his pocket knife. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”
—
“That was a lot of screaming, boss.” Oka commented as they trotted down the front steps, Kojiro tossing a bloody rag to the ground.
“I gotta give him credit, I expected him to pass out. He never did though.”
“Is he–?”
“Nah, he’ll live. Unfortunately.” They stopped by the car they’d taken on the way there, Kojiro lingering by the driver’s side. “You know what he said to me?”
“What?”
“He told me to take Kaoru, that he didn’t care about him and he’d just have another.” Kojiro hissed. How someone could just give their kid up to the goddamn Yakuza was beyond him.
“He said– oh no. Boss, you didn’t.” Oka shuddered, bringing one hand down between his legs protectively.
“He shouldn’t have said it.” Kojiro shrugged. “Go find your ride. I’m heading back home to see if Reki and Langa have done something right for a change.”
As fucked up as it was, violence always got Kojiro’s blood pumping a little faster, his pulse quickening and his heart racing with adrenaline. So he might have driven too fast and gotten home long before Oka, anxious energy dancing under his skin. He’d fucked up bad a year ago, giving too much faith to a dickhead of a man that wouldn’t even pay up to save his only son. Now he’d sent Reki and Langa out to nab a kid, a shitty thing to ask of anyone, but especially Reki who had sisters the kid’s age.
He hustled up the steps, only to be bombarded by Reki and Langa as soon as he set foot in the main entry.
“Joe!” Reki looked panicked, which in all honesty was nothing new.
“Joe!” Langa also looked panicked, which in all honesty was something new.
“Calm down, what’s going on. Did you find the kid? If not then maybe we can call it off–”
“No, we found him.” Reki had an ice pack against his cheek, an ugly bruise blossoming on his jaw.
“Look.” Langa held up his arm, where the clear indent of a bite was red and angry on his forearm. Someone had sunk their teeth in and not let go. “But there’s something you should know.”
“What?”
“Well–”
The shattering of glass in one of the nearby rooms caught Kojiro’s attention and he started towards it, his underlings scampering by his side. They were exchanging worried glances, whispering frantically to one another behind their hands.
“Joe, the photo was a bit dated.” Reki began.
“How dated?”
Another smash as Kojiro flung open the door to the parlor, the term used loosely because the windows wouldn’t open to prevent escape and the door locked from the outside, to reveal an angry teenager with pink hair, a lip ring and golden eyes bright with fury. The lamp in his hand sailed past Kojiro’s face and into the hallway, shattering against the tile.
“What the fuck am I doing here?” He spat, eyes already darting around the room for his next weapon.
Langa stared forlornly at the broken glass as he answered Kojiro’s question, “About thirteen years.”