A Family Matter

The week Hayami had spent in the Hildebrand household had been a whirlwind. Lavish meals, exquisite furnishings, freedom from responsibilities, and more outfits than she had ever owned in her life. It had been a wonderful experience in how the other side of society lived—a lifestyle beyond the reach of a gangster and contract killer like her.

But as that time ended, her mission was still unfulfilled. Searching Oto’s room had not turned up the flash drive, and his father had never emerged from his private quarters.

Hayami was backed into a corner, left with two decisions. The first was to wait until the Hildebrand Ball at the end of the month, kill Oto’s father and flee. Or, second, take the ten million she was already set to earn, and flee immediately.

These were the thoughts on her mind as she rested her chin against her balled fist, watching Oto saunter between the boutique’s fabrics.

Oto had asked her to join him on an outing to Capitana, the nearest seaside town to his Costa Bellissima estate. Giles had been planning a trip to collect the money she was owed, and the boy insisted Hayami tag along. While he hadn’t been specific at the time, it became clear after they had gone their separate ways from Giles that he had wanted her to go fabric shopping with him.

“Hayami, what do you think of this?” He asked, holding up a vibrant cobalt fabric with golden four-point stars set into the side of it. “The stars are made of real gold, and I think we could probably sew some diamonds into the negative space to really make it dazzle! Perfect for eveningwear!”

“I don’t know, it seems extra.”

“Extra amazing, maybe! Garçon, thirty-six feet of this fantastic fabric. I want Hayami to sparkle.”

“Oto, don’t call the sales associate—ugh, never mind.”

Hayami sighed, adjusting her gaze to look out the storefront. She didn’t know what to do. On one side, she was surprisingly appreciative that Oto cared enough to ask her input on the dresses his seamstresses were designing for her. But, on the other end, she had no interest in remaining for the gala that she would only stain in blood. Blood that should technically include that of the idiot currently at her side.

Damn it. She sighed at the thought. Why did he have to be a sweet idiot? Why couldn’t he have been like every other rich asshole? It would have been a lot easier if he had—wait…

Something caught her eye across the street. A boxy black vehicle with a silvery ornament of a flying woman adorning the hood had pulled up to the restaurant. Stepping from the car, the driver wore a black tailcoat—or what Oto would have insisted on calling a morning suit because the sun was still up. The man adjusted the obsidian coat over his charcoal vest before withdrawing a golden pocket watch and glancing towards the shop where Hayami stared.

Their eyes met before a smirk crossed his face.

Stepping to the back of the vehicle, he opened the door, bowing deep enough to disappear behind the tinted windows. That was when the occupant emerged, standing tall in his pinstripe suit that barely contained the thick muscles of his arms and bulging neck. The man ran a hand through his greasy, silver hair as he placed a cigar to his lips.

Boss?! Hayami’s heart began to race.

She quickly glanced over her shoulder at Oto as he drooled over a bolt of burgundy silk. He was too busy debating over it and the emerald green to notice Hayami as she slinked out the front door—something she did without a second thought.

The trek across the street took seconds, but the man had already disappeared into the restaurant before her. Approaching the noren that separated the doorway from the interior, she split the sheets and pushed in only to be stopped by a pair of plain-shirted goons.

“The establishment is closed for the day.” One spoke threateningly. “Go eat elsewhere, sweetheart.”

Hayami’s blood boiled at the insolence of the man before her. Raising a hand, she suddenly realized what she was wearing. The elegant, off-the-shoulder dress was not something the White Tiger of North Bay traditionally wore when she strutted the shrine. Then there was the fact that the fitted bodice with a cinched waist accentuated her flattering physique, and the floor-length skirt with a thigh-high slit revealed more of her body than her father’s goons had ever seen her wear. Currently, her identity was invisible to them.

“Ooh my,” She adjusted her voice, making it more feminine than she preferred as she held a hand to her lips. “Shame. I was hoping for a cut of delicious meat.”

She approached, placing a hand on one of their chests. The man’s facial expression shifted to a devious smirk as he looked her over. It was exactly what she had hoped for. With his guard dropped, she struck her palm upward, connecting with his nose and sending him back to the ground. Before the second goon could react, her hand was wrapped around the side of his head, throwing him to the opposite wall.

“Idiots.” She cursed.

Stepping over them with a clack of her red-bottom heels, she entered the establishment, seeing two dozen more goons lining the walls. A single table at the center of the restaurant had been set for two, with the remaining pushed aside. And sitting there, with Takeshi standing at his side, was the boss.

“Daughter of mine,” He spoke, a cloud of cigar smoke billowing from his mouth as he motioned to the chair opposite him. “Nice of you to join me. Now sit.”

“I’ll stand—”

“SIT.” He demanded in a forceful tone.

With a hard kick, the chair across from him flew towards Hayami, who, in turn, extended her leg and stopped it.

“Listen to the boss,” Takeshi commanded. “If you know what’s good for you.”

“Quiet, you yappy little lap-bitch.” She replied sharply, dragging the chair back to the table and plopping herself down before her father with arms crossed.

“What are you doing here?” Hayami questioned.

Her father stared her down as he chewed the end of his cigar. With a deep inhale, he released a plume of smoke into the air. Waving a hand, he beckoned someone from the back of the restaurant.

“I’m asking the questions here, daughter.” He spoke as a swarm of waitresses in kimonos emerged, delivering plates of sashimi and green tea. “Eat.”

Hayami investigated the food and beverage before her with a suspicious glance, before quietly locking her gaze with the man. She knew her father well enough to understand what was happening. He was not willing to be trifled with in that moment. So, instead, she would hold her tongue and respond for her sake. And his.

Taking a piece of salmon, she tossed it into her mouth reluctantly.

“Why is the job not done?” The boss asked, grabbing the tea and lifting it to his lips.

“Setback. Working on it.”

“Yeah? What kind of setback?”

“The kind that makes a job take longer.”

The yunomi shattered in the man’s hand, causing Hayami to flinch as hot tea splashed across the table. With a deep breath, his scowling face locked with hers.

“I don’t want your sass, kid. Not now! Not today! Why is the job not done?”

“I’m working on it!”

With a thunderous snap of his fingers, a figure approached from the shadows and extended a folder to him with a bow. The boss snatched it from their hands and threw it at Hayami’s chest. The dossier erupted, spilling photos out and across the table—familiar images of the last week she had spent with Oto.

“Is this you working on it?” He demanded, picking up a photo and showing it off to her.

It was an image of Oto atop her in the rose garden. A shot taken by the drone she had been fleeing from in the moments before it met an unfortunate end. A picture that Oto had not yet released to the public.

How did he—?

Hayami’s heart began to race as she looked over the images. Dozens of pictures of her in fine dresses with Oto at her side. She could see the way he looked at her in the stills, the way she had secretly noticed him admiring her. The enthralled look he gave her. And then, in others, freeze frames of her delivering a similar glance that she had not even realized she wore.

“This you, Hayami? Playing house? Being his little dress-up doll?”

“I’m doing the job as you requested. I’m getting close—”

“Yeah, real close, daughter of mine.” He flicked the captured moment at her, striking her in the face as he continued. “Tell me, have you screwed him? Spread your legs for that moronic pissant?”

“Hey!” She snapped. “Screw you! I’m not some floozy. I’m. Doing. The. Job!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. How many more of my boys are you planning on offing while doing the job? Huh?”

“Call off your hounds, and they won’t need to be put down.” Hayami continued without missing a beat. “It’s because of them my face is—”

“Because of them, huh? Because of them, your face is—what? All over the internet? That’s your doing! Maybe if you had cared about the business—about your family! Maybe you wouldn’t have forced my hand.”

“Wow, great parenting—”

The man’s hand slammed down on the table now, shattering the plate of fish before him. Hayami investigated his scornful gaze as the hate he felt permeated the space.

“Maybe if I didn’t have such a worthless excuse of a daughter, I wouldn’t have to be doing this!”

Hayami felt her stomach churn in response to his toxic words. She wanted to stand and leave, but was frozen in place. Instead, she remained, intimidated by the beast across the table, listening to him as he continued to berate her for several more minutes. Tearing into her for existing, for being who she was, and wanting a life beyond the killing.

And then he did something more. He crossed a line she didn’t know mattered to her—a line drawn in the sand of her mind at some point.

“What? You going to cry?” He yelled out, plucking the cigar from his lips and flicking it at her. The embers at the tip scattered as they struck her exposed collarbone and tumbled away.

“Your life belongs to me! You’re my child, and I know what’s best for you. You’re mine, no one else! You hear me? You’re worthless to everyone else, kid. No one would ever love something broken like you. The shattered doll you are. You really think he would possibly love you? He doesn’t even know you! How do you think he would respond if he knew what you did to people? About how young you started doing it? You think that pretty boy could love something so soaked in blood?”

Hayami was still frozen—still listening as he tore her down. Her mind raced. She wanted to leave, wanted to stand and march out. But he was right. He was saying the things she had thought before. The boss knew her. He was her father after all.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead! Ten times over. You’re nothing without me. With the family at your back. Who needs love when you’ve got strength?!”

Then, at that moment, a memory infiltrated the forefront of her mind. A moment she had forgotten as she drifted between consciousness and darkness a week ago. She could see Oto’s face, feel the warmth of his blood dripping onto her. In that in-between space, she heard his voice, soft and distant.

“I-I think, I love you.”

Oto’s face appeared in her mind as clearly as if she were looking at his dumb smile in that moment. And then something came over her. The strength that had been drained from her returned, giving her the courage to stand from the table.

The goons along the wall took a step closer, keeping their distance as they reached for the guns fixed to their hips. But Hayami cared little for them and their boss.

“Screw you,” was all she said before turning and marching from the restaurant.

The boss stood, shifting the table across the floor as he yelled after her.

“You walk out that door, Hayami, there’s no going back. You hear me? The gloves come off—no more protection. And you’re not welcome back until the boy is dead. Until his whole family is dead. You hear me? Do you hear me, tiger?”

But Hayami was already walking out the door with her middle finger up as a reply. Emerging into the early afternoon light, she came face to face with a confused Oto.

“Oh, Hayami!” He exclaimed excitedly. “Wonderful, did you place a reservation? I’m famined!”

“No,” She replied quickly, taking his hand and pulling him away. “We’re going back to the car and going home.”

“But Hayami! This restaurant has the freshest fish in Costa Bellissima. I’d love to—”

“No! Oto, we’re going back to your estate, now!”

“Okay—okay, very well.” He replied as he reached into his pocket. “Good thing I took the car keys from Giles, just in case we wanted to take a joyride down the coast while we waited.”

Rounding the corner, they moved at a steady pace towards the car as Hayami watched Oto extend his hand. With a click of the auto-start, the remote beeped twice, and an explosion rocked the street.