ELEVENTH KNOT #2
“You waited this fucking long to tell me? Could’ve told me earlier. Sent a fucking pigeon, I don’t know.”
Ryo shrugged.
“I found out last night. And I had to think if I was really gonna do it. Betray my own crew, my own boss. But fuck, I did it, didn’t I? Risked my ass to save your boyfriend. You think Midori’s gonna just forgive that shit?”
“They almost killed Naoya-san.”
“Didn’t though. Because I showed up. So maybe say thank you by letting me rail you, yeah?”
“You’re fucking unbelievable.”
“Hey, your ass is sweet, and you almost got me killed. I better get lifetime access.”
“I’ll give you access to the hospital if you don’t shut up.”
He laughed.
“I don’t care, I’m gonna need a big reward for this. You hear me?”
“You want a reward? I’ll give you one.”
That’s how we end up at the Dokugumo-kai quarters, two pissed-off bastards standing side-by-side in front of a room full of muscle—some curious, some nervous, and some that already know exactly what the fuck this is about.
Ryo laughs like a maniac.
“Can’t believe this is where my dick landed me. Selling out my crew for a good fuck and a walking bloodbath.”
I step forward.
“Kobayashi tried to kill me, so I’ll kill him,” I pull the tanto from my waistband and hold it up, blood drying along the edge. Some of the men flinch. “If any of you plan on fighting for him, you won’t last the fucking hour.”
Weapons clatter to the ground. Not all, but a lot more than I expected.
And when I step forward, the world ignites.
A blade flashes, aimed for my ribs. I don’t dodge. I grab the guy’s wrist midair, twist till I hear the crack, then shove my tanto through his jaw’s underside so fast his knees give out before a sound leaves his throat. Blood sprays warm across my face.
I missed this. Real fight. Real death. Not whatever the fuck happened back in the studio.
I fight and all around there are sounds of teeth cracking against cement and the wet thunk of bodies dropping like sacks of meat. My boots slide across the slick floor, blood already pooling underfoot. I duck under a swing, slam an elbow into a gut, then crush a skull against a decorative rock.
Ryo’s at my side, moving like a bastard with nothing left to lose. Fast, wild, grinning like a fucking lunatic as he moves. He breaks noses with his forearms, kicks out knees, grabs a guy by the ears and slams his head into a beam hard enough to leave a dent.
From the shadows, a few of my men step forward.
No orders or promises.
They just start fighting.
Jackets tossed aside, shirts rolled to the elbow or torn straight off, with blood already staining the white undershirts. Ryo laughs loudly, says something about me being the new boss.
I lead them forward, deeper into the quarters, painting the floor in blood and bone until there’s no one left in our path. Until the last doors.
I kick them open.
Kobayashi is sitting there, cross-legged in front of a low lacquered table, sipping tea like this is just another boring Tuesday. Calm like he’s not about to die.
He doesn’t even flinch when I walk in covered in blood, blade still slick, surrounded by men who’d die for me.
He looks up.
“I must admit, I thought you’d be dead by now. I suppose it was naive, trying to keep a beast caged.”
I take a step forward and he looks at my tanto. Set the cup on the table.
“I always knew this day would come,” he says. “I made a mistake the moment I tried to put a leash on you. I should’ve known a mad dog can’t be trained.”
He smiles, looking at the men behind me.
“If you think you can lead those—”
I cross the room in three steps.
My blade sinks clean into his temple.
His body jerks, twitches once. His eyes flutter wide in shock.
“Just shut the fuck up and die,” I say, close to his face.
I yank the blade free.
He slumps forward, cheek first into the table. His body tilts, but the cup doesn’t even tremble. Sits there full of tea.
I stare at him, at that face that is sunken, sagging in his mid-fifties, but that looks seventy now. A man rotted from the inside out. And I followed him. I was loyal. I killed for him. I bled for him. I let him pull my strings.
I want to piss on his corpse.
But instead, I kick it.
His body tumbles sideways, folds on the floor.
I take his seat, crossing my legs. I lay my tanto on the lacquered wood, and then look at the men. Shirts stained, faces bruised, hands trembling from the fight.
“Ryo.”
He steps forward like he’s not surprised at all, cocky, tired, grinning like he fucking belongs beside me. He will.
He sits.
Reaches for the tea like a brainless asshole.
I slap it from his hand so hard it smashes against the wall. Porcelain explodes, brown tea slides down to the tatami like blood.
“Be smarter than that,” I tell him. “Kobayashi wouldn’t go down without taking some dumb fuck with him.”
Ryo lifts both brows, then shrugs, licking a cut on his lip.
“Noted.”
I look at the men again, let my hand rest on the hilt of the tanto.
“I’m going to kill Midori and Hasebe next.”
Ryo snorts like I’m the one being dumb now.
“I’ll kill every fucker who thinks they can stand in my way. And when their blood hits the dirt, Kagebōshi-gumi and Tetsukaminari-ikka’ll be mine too.”
I straight my back.
“From today on, we’re Onikin-kai.”
* * *
I don’t go to Naoya-san’s house for three days.
First, because the fucking cops won’t stop circling.
I posted two of my guys across the street to watch the place, and every morning, same shit—cars crawling the road, eyes scanning the windows like they can sniff guilt from behind curtains.
No way I’m getting anywhere near him while that stink’s still around.
Not when he could get dragged in deeper just for opening the goddamn door.
Second, because I had work to do.
And by that, I mean cleaning houses.
And by that, I mean killing a lot of people.
I didn’t waste time with plans or honor or any of that bullshit.
I kicked in the door of Kagebōshi first, just like I said I would.
Ryo was with me, grinning like the bastard he is, because he knew how many of their guys would follow him.
And he was right. Soon as they saw us, it was like a fucking tide flipped.
Two-thirds stepped back, dropped their weapons, some even bowed low.
Midori was always too old for all this. A businessman pretending to be a boss who trusted his second in command to train and take care of the men.
Ryo said it before, how Midori didn’t know how to lead wolves, just how to feed them enough scraps to keep their teeth from sinking in his throat.
Midori went out on his knees, trying to buy time with words. I didn’t let him finish one. Steel through the neck, silence after.
Tetsukaminari followed two nights later. Hasebe had more fire, more muscle, and he was ready for us, so he trusted it too much. We tore through their compound like wind through paper. We walked out, and he didn’t.
Three days. That’s all it took to tear down the three biggest gangs in Tokyo from the inside out. Now the Onikin-kai isn’t an idea anymore. It’s a new nightmare.
And now I’m here, outside Naoya-san’s building with cuts crusted over and muscles sore in places I didn’t even know could hurt. I feel strung out, wired like my whole body still expects the next fight to start any second now.
I knock.
The door opens like it was waiting for me.
Naoya-san stands there barefoot, in those soft gray pants and a white long-sleeve. There’s a bruise under one eye, and his nose seems back in place—so it was not broken, then. He looks thinner, too, more tired.
But then he smiles.
And he’s beautiful.
And I step in without thinking, arms moving before my head does. I grab him, my arms locking around his waist, forehead pressed to the side of his neck. I breathe in. My chest drags with the weight of it, like I’ve been holding my breath for seventy-two hours and now I’m finally allowed to let go.
His body is slim and warm and here. Him. Not the blood. Not the dead. Not the burn in my muscles or the kill in my mouth.
Just him.
“Show me trust,” I murmur, voice rasped and used up. “I need to know what it is.”