I opened and closed my mouth to work up some saliva – it felt like someone had stuffed in a handful of sand. I started to move my head but stopped when bells started clanging and lights flashed behind my closed eyes. I opened them slowly. Then I undid my previous caution by sitting bolt upright with a start.
The letter.
A nurse hurried into the room and tried to restrain me as I attempted to get out of the bed. I was in such a weak state she had the upper hand even before a passing doctor saw the commotion and came in to help.
‘Clarence-san, please try to relax. You need to rest.’
I looked at her. It was the same doctor who’d treated me before.
‘I had a letter. It’s important – I have to find it.’
‘The letter’s safe, don’t worry. You were railing about it when you were brought in so we kept it right here.’
She opened a drawer by my bed. I scanned the letter anxiously to make sure it was the right one. I relaxed and folded it up.
‘When was that?’
‘Yesterday. You’ve been out cold since.’
I gave her a weak smile through my aching head.
‘Aren’t there any other doctors here? Do you have to do heads as well as hands?’
‘I’m very happy sticking to hands,’ she said. ‘I just took an interest when I saw you wheeled in. So if you’re asking whether I’m in charge of your present treatment, no, I’m not. But if I were to make an unqualified diagnosis, I’d say your refusal to find new friends suggests mental rehabilitation is as important as physical therapy in your case.’
She picked up the chart at the foot of my bed.
‘Based on this and the conversations I’ve had with your doctor, physically you’re going be fine – for now, at least. But if you keep associating with the same crowd you’re going to be back here again. That’s if you’re lucky. Next time it could be the morgue.’
She looked at me unhappily. I tried to give her a reassuring smile.
‘Don’t worry.’
She didn’t look convinced.
‘Honestly, it’s all over. Done.’
‘Now why don’t I believe that? Is it because I remember you saying much the same last time? Or because you’ve not even been here a day and one of your “friends” has already had to be treated again?’
‘What do you mean?’
Before she could answer, there was an announcement over the tannoy. She gave a quick smile and told me she’d check back in. Then she rushed off.
‘I’ve got no idea,’ said the nurse before I could ask. ‘I just started my shift. But please, you’re not ready to get up. Just lie back for the moment. The doctor will be in to see you soon.’
I did as she said and before I knew it I was out again.
*
I woke to the sound of voices, but these didn’t have the same professional tone. I opened my eyes a crack and closed them at the brightness. I had another go and two silhouettes took shape. The silhouettes then became people. They turned out to be Sumida and Kurotaki.
‘He awakes. Takata-gumi’s hero.’
It had been enough of a shock to be called by my name in the alley. Kurotaki referring to me as a hero, even in jest, was a bit too surreal. I looked at Sumida.
‘Things moved quickly after you decided to take your little break,’ he said.
‘Hey,’ warned Kurotaki.
I’d never seen him like this. His mood could only be described as bubbly.
‘We hit Yabu and his two lieutenants straight after we dropped you off,’ Sumida continued, unfazed. ‘Combined with the two you led us to, it means we’ve taken out the brains and brawn of the Tokyo group. They’re in chaos. We started moving on their operations the same day.’
‘What about—’
He threw a newspaper at me before I could finish.
‘Onishi knew Kamigawa could lead to nuclear disaster’, I read.
Then the subhead.
‘Construction forced through for personal gain’.
I squinted at the body copy, my eyes still trying to find their place in my head.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Sumida. ‘In short it says he’s fucked.’
He strolled around the side of the bed.
‘He’s done and Yabu’s dead. You got revenge for your girlfriend.’
‘And we got our city back,’ Kurotaki cut in. ‘After this, the Ginzo-kai will have to make do with scraps. We’re back in charge.’
‘What’s that?’ I asked, nodding at the swathe of bandages wrapped around his gesticulating left hand. He shrugged.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘Someone had to make a gesture to the Ginzo-kai bosses in Kobe – not that there’s much they can do now. But it’s best if we can agree recent events were caused by an overenthusiastic Takata-gumi sub-group. It gives them face and an excuse not to set up for war. The way things are with the authorities, that would be bad for us all.’
‘You need to be careful – for someone who had all ten fingers not more than a month ago you’re losing them at a worrying rate,’ I said unkindly. ‘You’ll look like a leper if you keep this up.’
He either didn’t register my coldness or pretended not to notice.
‘Yep, my hands were a whole lot happier before you showed up, but I’m pleased that you did. If you do want to get into that though, you don’t just owe me a finger now—’
‘I don’t owe you a finger – you lost the first because you owe me one.’
‘—you owe me your life as well.’
Much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right. I wasn’t going to acknowledge it to him though.
‘And here’s me thinking I’d given you two, plus Yabu and the others you took care of. It seems you owe me rather than the other way round.’
He might have saved my life but I still despised him. I’d have been happy to take his and call it quits.
‘Maybe I do, Ray-san, maybe I do. For the moment let’s say we’re even,’ he said, his upbeat mood refusing to be tempered by my chill. I still wasn’t sure if his insensitivity was genuine or just his way of playing the game.
‘But we should head off. You need some rest. You don’t seem your normal self.’
He moved towards the door.
‘By the way, Kumichō wants to see you. There’ll be a car waiting for you when you’re discharged.’
I ignored him and gave Sumida a nod which he replied to in kind.
They left, and Kurotaki’s vacuum seemed to draw the last of the stress from me, sucking it with him and out of the room. It was over. I’d survived. I couldn’t say I’d won, but the fact I was breathing meant I hadn’t totally lost.