“Wakasa-san is an old friend. I used to work with him, years ago. He used to run baishun snack bars in Kyoto. You know what they are?” The fear on Sakura’s face was replaced by horror. A baishun snack bar was a brothel by any other name, and she knew it. “Wakasa-san had a dozen then, but now that he is older, he keeps just two or three. He is always looking for new girls, and we agreed on a price.”

Fumio looked agitated. “A word, Oyabun?”

Takashi waved his request away. “Do you know what happens in a baishun snack bar to a woman like you, Sakura, a hāfu? The men will see your Western blood and they will take pleasure in breaking you. You will be used, over and over and over, many times a day, until you are so used up that there is nothing left. And then, once you are of no use?” He shrugged. “You would be abandoned, likely an addict, with no one and nothing. Fumio persuaded me against it before, didn’t you?”

Fumio nodded unhappily.

“He reminded me that you are my brother’s daughter and that a fate like that would be too cruel, even given your crime. It was Katsuro’s suggestion that you work with him and the premans. He persuaded me that it would be unpleasant for you and valuable for us. He was right in that last regard, but wrong in the first—it was not unpleasant enough.”

“Please,” Sakura said. “Takashi-san, I want to work for you. I know I have a debt to pay. Let me pay it.”

“No,” he said. “Your debt to me will be extinguished. Wakasa-san made me an offer for you before, and I believe he will honour it. The debt will be paid, but you will belong to him from now on.” He gestured to Katsuro. “Take her downstairs. There is an empty room next to Yamato’s. Lock her in, but do not let her see him. He will be on the other side of the wall, and that is the closest that she will ever be to him again. She leaves for Kyoto in the morning.”

112

Milton rode the metro to Gotanda Station. He had been tempted to go straight to Takashi’s tower block, but reason had intervened as the train had rumbled into the platform, and he had decided against it. He needed a plan. He knew that Yamato was there. And Sakura? She was probably there, too. Milton did not care whether he himself lived or died, but he wanted to ensure that, whatever happened to him, he maximised the chances of getting them both out alive. And, if he was going down, he would do his best to take Takashi and Katsuro with him.

All of that meant that he needed to prepare. He needed a plan and he needed a weapon.