Cheekbones

They hate my guts. It seemed as if the whole table was silent, watching as I slowly brought a piece of chicken to my mouth, only to drop it onto my lap at the last possible moment. A young boy in a gray tracksuit brought me a fork, and I sheepishly laid the chopsticks aside. I knew how to use chopsticks, I was just nervous. The people at the table didn’t hate me because I couldn’t use chopsticks. They didn’t hate me because I sometimes stuttered and tripped over my Japanese. They hated me because I was a foreigner, and as such a disgrace to the entire organization.

As dinner finished I and a few other low ranking individuals made our exit, bowing deeply and shuffling out of the room. The kids had just been told to leave, now it was time for the grown-ups to talk. I cracked the front door, which lead to the driveway, welcoming the fresh air as an escape from the stuffy dining room. Our modest car sat a few steps away, and I ambled to it mindlessly, my brain unable to render anything worth the effort of thought. Soshi-sama had the keys, and since he was inside chatting with the other bosses, my only choice was to lean against the hood and try not to be noticed. I didn’t think it would be hard, the only people in sight were two guards propped against the side of the house, silently puffing on cigarettes.

“Soshi is really out of line this time.” Someone behind me said. I turned and saw it was a man about my age. His hair was slicked back, his face sharp and handsome. He looked bored. High cheekbones seemed to run in the Yakuza. Soshi had once told me that the higher the cheekbones the higher the rank, and I believe him. I decided not to say anything to this man with the slick hair. Instead I turned back around and re-assumed my position against the hood. I made eye contact with one of the guards, who looked back at me with empty eyes and blew cigarette smoke out of his nose.

“Do you understand that we’ve never had a foreigner in our organization?” He continued speaking to the back of my head. “Soshi is making an embarrassment out of all of us. I’ll be surprised if they don’t put a bullet in both of yours head by the end of the night… Are you listening? Soshi is a f*****g joke, but you’re the biggest joke of all. You don’t even know what he did to you, do you?” I was about to take the bait and ask what exactly Soshi had done to me when the door to the house slid open, and a group of well dressed men slithered out. They were silent. I scanned the group but didn’t see Soshi. Where was he? I double checked the car door - still locked.

“Start the car.” Soshi growled. I jumped a little bit at the sound of his voice.Thank god. The man with the slick hair and Cheekbones was a few yards away, holding the passenger side door open for an elderly man with a cane. Cheekbones caught me looking at him and smiled.

***

“They’re a bunch of fools!” Soshi said as we pulled out of the compound.

“What did they say?”

“They don’t want us selling anymore.” Soshi said, wiping sweat away from his forehead with shaking fingers. He had a habit of sweating profusely under the slightest amount of stress “We’re in trouble Koji, Akihiko want’s to shut me down. ” Michael was my name, but ever since Soshi took me in, everyone called me Koji. It meant “second son”. Soshi’s first was dead.

Eventually we pulled up to Soshi’s house. It was modest in most respects, with the exception of the rock garden. Plants grew where Soshi allowed them, mostly around his beautiful Koi pond, his pride and joy, which had a small waterfall pouring into it at all hours. At night his garden was illuminated by custom lights, a beautiful blue that complimented the neon jungle that glowed just behind him. He didn’t want anyone to miss his work.

“So we’re just going to stop selling dope?”  I asked, putting the car into park.

“No we’re not going to stop selling, you idiot. If we stop selling we lose all our money. If We lose all our money and then we lose our power.”

“Maybe it’s better we lose our power than our lives.” I ventured, immediately regretting my words. Soshi’s mouth twisted into a snarl, he brought back his hand as if to slap me.
“Better to die a slow, painful, bloody, excruciating death, than lose what I have built for us.” I nodded and stared at the steering wheel, refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’ve given everything to get us here, and you’d throw it away? I didn’t raise a coward.” He paused, flicking his tongue against his lips like a snake.  “Go get some sleep, and don’t let your guard down tonight.” I nodded again, and Soshi climbed out of the car. Before he shut the door, he looked back at me one more time “And Michael, learn how to use chopsticks. It’s an embarrassment.” I let my head hang lower at the sound of my given name.

***

“I swear to god, if you don’t tell me which finger... I’m taking them all off.”

“NO!” He cried, trying to pull his hand away. My grip on his wrist was too strong, and I yanked him back, slamming his hand onto the wooden coffee table.  We were engulfed in the purple light of some Karaoke club’s VIP room.

“You think I want to be here cutting off your fat fingers? You don’t think I have better things to do?” Someone was singing Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Born in the U.S.A’ on the floor above us. I hummed along, waiting for his answer.

“I’m sorry Koji, I’m really sorry. I heard you weren’t selling anymore, I thought the old rules were off.”

“Who told you that? You know you’re my friend, Ken, but you’re an idiot. We’re in this together now so don’t make it harder for me. Okay? And don’t apologize to me. I don’t care.” The loss of a finger wasn’t uncommon among us. It was especially common for low level dealers like Ken. It was so frequent a punishment, even Soshi was missing a ring finger. I prided myself on having all of my digits intact. As for Ken, this was his first time. A kid had overdosed a week prior, barely 16 years old. Kids were off limits, Ken knew that.  “Pinkies are like ex girlfriends, Ken.”

“How?” he asked despondently, his head sunken and his eyes closed.

“Because you don’t need em’.” I picked a finger for him, slicing clean through. Ken’s brother was waiting with bandages, and he wrapped his brother’s fingers as well as he could. We would send it to the dead 16 year old’s parents as an apology, along with a stack of cash. Public relations.

Once I was confident Ken was going to be okay, I left and started on my way back upstairs. I needed a drink. More than that I needed some ecstasy. Would it be insensitive to ask Ken if he was carrying anything? I had a few friends in the area that could hook me up, but they wouldn’t deliver, which meant driving, and driving in Tokyo on a friday night was no small task. I’m going to ask Ken. I made a U-turn on the stairs, skipping some steps as my mind reminisced on the day’s events.

“Hey, Ken, Have you got any X on you?” I peered in on them from the doorway, my eyes squinted because I’d forgotten how purple it was in there. Ken and his brother stared at me, dumbfounded. “It’s not a f*****g trick question, I really want to buy some X.” I pleaded. Ken stared at me a moment longer before shifting his focus back to his hand. Well alright. I shut the door and once again began my ascent upstairs. I jogged, skipping every other step, my eyes fixed on the ground in deep thought.

Crunch. my rib broke as the hit connected, knocking me back down the stairs so hard that my face smacked into the cement floor, busting my lip open like a piñata. Cheekbones sauntered down the steps, his hands tucked inside the warmth of his pockets.

“What the hell?” I squirmed on the ground, my subpar survival skills kicking in. “Ken!” my voice came out weak and hoarse. “Ken!”

“Shut up and listen.”  Cheekbones squatted down beside me. “You’re CIA.”

“No no no.” I moaned, earning me a sharp kick in the stomach.

“No, I know you’re CIA you piece of s**t. You’re focusing on the wrong people. Soshi is the one you want to go after. He’s the one that killed your dad.” My breathing was rapid, I felt as if my lungs couldn’t expand. What did this guy know about my dad? I decided not to say anything, in part because I feared another kick in the ribs, and in part because I didn’t think I could if I wanted to. “I’ll make this easy for you, okay? Bust Soshi by the end of the month, or I’ll let everyone know your little secret.”

“I’m not CIA you idiot.” I sputtered, warm blood dropping onto the cold cement.

“Make it happen.” he slapped my face playfully. “Make it happen.”

***

All in all, the damage could have been worse. Two cracked ribs and a missing tooth. I told people that I got high and fell down the stairs, which was half true. I figured I had two options - get rid of cheekbones or turn myself into the police, neither of which sounded very promising.

I spent my time in recovery trying to determine who ‘Cheekbones’ was. What he’d said about Soshi, and my father specifically, had piqued my interest. After my dad had died, Soshi took me in and I never really thought to question it. Why hadn’t my family back in the states tried to win custody? It wasn’t until I found the records that I realized the terrible truth.

Soshi and my father had been business partners, I knew that. Soshi had worked with my father back in the states, and offered him the opportunity to open a casino in Japan, which my father, naively, agreed to. By this point my mother had been dead for 10 years. It wasn’t long after the casino opened in Tokyo that my father disappeared, showing up dead a week later, found by a homeless man who’d been looting garbage bags in hopes of finding a meal. They charged a man I’d never seen as guilty for the crime. It was set in stone, I had closure. But what Cheekbones said about Soshi ate away at me.

I had a lot of time in the hospital to think about what Soshi did to me. What I didn’t ever question until now was that Soshi had immediately requested guardianship over me, then 13. As my guardian, he gained my assets until I was of legal age. That meant my father’s share of the casino. The kicker was when I realized that I’d sold my share to him for $30 on my 18th birthday.

“Koji?” The old man looked confused, he hadn’t expected me to show up at his doorstep so early in the morning. Soshi enjoyed his sundays to himself, I wouldn’t contact him unless it was an emergency.

“Don’t call me that.” I walked past him and into the house, finding a seat on the floor by the table.

“What’s this about?” He snapped.

I tapped my fingers on the table, not bothering to hide the contempt in my voice. “Do you remember my 18th birthday?”

“I remember every day I took care of you.” He replied. His voice had a nervous twinge in it, he was scared that I might know.

“Maybe if you didn’t murder my dad, you could’ve avoided that problem.” If there was ever any lingering doubt in my mind whether or not Soshi had done it, that doubt was absolved by Soshi’s reaction.

“I- Do you - You’re only alive because of me, do you understand that? If I wanted you dead I would’ve had you killed years ago.”

“I’m ashamed to have called you father.” I spat. Every part of me was red, I’d never been so angry.

“Koji, you’re being being paranoid because of the meds. Don’t say anything you’ll regret. And what’s this about you talking to police, huh? Get out of my house and don’t you ever come back.” I couldn’t believe the presumptuous way he was speaking to me. As if he hadn’t killed my only family. As if he hadn’t stolen every penny from me. I jumped up and pushed him, his old body collapsed easily under my anger. I’d never expected him to be so frail. He squirmed on the floor, moving with a surprising amount of energy. A knife sat next to a half eaten pork cutlet. I’d interrupted his meal. He grabbed it, stabbing it deep into my leg right above my knee. I collapsed immediately, clutching at the massive object sticking out of my leg. In the meantime Soshi tried to hobble away, steadying himself against the wall.

Through nothing more than pure muscle memory, the handgun i’d carried with me was in hand. Two shots rang out through the house, at least one catching him in the stomach. Quickly, I turned my attention back to the knife. I pried it out with both hands, unwilling to think of the muscles it was sawing against.  Soshi was nowhere to be seen, but the streak of bright red showed me his story. The lull made me realize just how absurd the entire thing was. There’s no ending that doesn’t see me with a bullet in my head, but at the same time there was no way I was letting Soshi go. I tracked him through his own home, through the dining room and outside. I thought my kneecap might fall off, but still I trudged on, through his rock garden, past his beautiful lights. There I found him, one hand in his treasured koi pond, lying on his stomach and barely breathing as blood cascaded like the waterfall into his favorite creation.

“Get up.” I said. “Get up.” He didn’t get up. he didn’t even acknowledge me. He just laid there, blinking. “You accuse me of being a traitor? After what you’ve done?” I rushed to his body, dragging his hand out of the pond. I didn’t know why I was doing it, but it seemed important. He fought back, his eyes widening, his muscles straining to reunite with that bloody water. After a few seconds I changed my mind, letting him go. HIs fingers once again dropped into the murk. “I can’t believe you did this to me.” I sighed, sitting down to relieve the stress from my knee. He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me. Then he died. No parting words, no grand realizations, nothing. He just stopped breathing. I could hear sirens approaching, but I didn’t try to run. For the first time I could remember, I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t scheming or plotting. I was just sitting there. Next to this man. My father.

Reviews

[Shannon]

Excellent story and set up. Title a bit quirky, but I kind of like that.

I would consider having a reason for his hand being in the pond. I can think of several, and did as I was reading, so I missed a reveal.