CHAPTER 24

必然 Hitsuzen

Necessity

Takumi went to the window. Tokyo looked flat and lifeless from the top floor of this fifty-storey building. Neon banners and billboards shouted into the sky below. Then there was that glowing red sun, the same one he’d seen in the jungle. No place could be further from the lush green jungles of Brazil. Would those rainforests someday look like this—concrete and steel?

He turned to face his boss. Matsumura Fuhio looked Takumi over and clucked his tongue. “Takumi-san,” he said sternly, “I was worried that you were too young to be in charge of the operation in Aomori. Now I’m even more concerned.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head as if trying to give his best warrior the benefit of the doubt. “Please tell me I’m wrong.” He folded his hands on his lap and leaned back into his chair.

“There won’t be any problem this time,” Takumi said, quelling his emotions. He was a trained assassin. He could take down anyone—a head of state, a warlord, or a guerilla fighter. So why did this man have to keep asserting himself? Takumi could kill him in an instant, too, and leave no shred of evidence.

Matsumura tapped his fingers on the table. “I have already invested over five million dollars in this project. Nothing can prevent it from happening. Is that clear?”

Takumi looked at Matsumura’s thin, cunning eyes.

“Yes, sir. It’s clear.” He forced himself to sound respectful. After all, Matsumura was the direct descendent of a seventh-century Japanese aristocrat whose family had been in power for centuries. One had been president around seventy-five years ago. They acted as if they were still in control of the country.

“Harter and I have been lenient with you,” Matsumura said. “We’ve wined you and dined you, put you up in my seaside villa, pampered you so you would be ready to do the job. Now it’s time to stop playing. Get busy and bring the girl in. There will be dire consequences if we continue in this manner.”

Takumi knew there was no room for regret. He was doing as his father had done, using his skills to survive. But if my father knew what I’ve done with what he taught me…

At their last meeting, Matsumura had shown Takumi Jet’s photograph and sent him to stake her out. He’d followed her to the hotel. She’d lead him to the ramen shop. Takumi understood that he’d been tested.

“Did you hear me?” Matsumura asked.

“Hai.” Takumi nodded. He understood all too well. He remembered the promises Harter had made: Come with us. We’ll give you everything you need.

Takumi smiled ruefully. Harter had no idea what he needed, because he himself hadn’t known at all. He’d been seduced by the promise of food, shelter, even possibly school. But none of that was going to happen. And now he was backed into a corner. The only way out was to kill or be killed.

Lines from the Rinzai Roku, the sayings of the great Zen master, came to him: Your deep doubt will become solid like the ground to throw you off balance. Your deep attachment will transform into water to drown you. Your deep anger will transform into fire to burn you. Your deep pleasure will transform into the wind to carry you away.

That’s what it is, Takumi thought. Pleasure is a wind. He wanted to be carried away on that wind. Instead, he had to hunt the source of it—Jet. He had to capture her, maybe even harm her. But first, he needed her to tell him what she knew. She had the information that would make them all rich. That’s why he was here, after all. To secure his future. A better future. And only money could do that. That’s what he’d always been taught. Was it wrong to believe what his father had told him since he was old enough to listen?

Damn the fate that had made a woman so beautiful into the one he had to fight. What twisted karma would lead him to this? He ached to touch her again, and he cursed himself for his weakness. He took a deep breath and centered his energy in his hara.

Even if you succeed in getting rid of your attachments, the only thing that comes of it in the end is a way to save your own life, he thought, shaking his head. It was better to look at things practically. He was a mercenary. He had to survive. If he failed or refused, they would try to kill him. He knew too much to back out.

“A human life is almost the same as the life of a car. It runs as long as it can. And when it breaks down, you have to abandon it,” Matsumura told him.

“Yes, sir,” Takumi agreed, bile rising in his gut as he realized that his boss was talking about him, how dispensable he was.

“Get to it,” Matsumura snarled as he left, closing the door behind him.

Takumi stared out the window. The sun had gone down, and the city spread out flat and dark beneath him, its neon lights switched on, snaking around buildings like the tails of digital dragons.

How would it would feel to fall from this height? he wondered.

Cars shone like chips of colored glass in each lane. This busy little world was nothing, its inhabitants insignificant specks. His men, the people he had to capture, Jet, even himself, all of them were pointless. His warriors were ready to assault the Buddhist temple. But though he needed to gather everyone in the Kuroi family and interrogate them, he wasn’t convinced that they knew the secret to the treasure, or that there even was a treasure. People with great wealth didn’t behave like this. They didn’t run. They used their power. Still, he would do his job. He would learn what they knew and get rid of them if he had to. Matsumura and Harter wanted no loose ends. They’d been working toward this goal for years. Failure was not an option.

Takumi felt dizzy. He steadied himself. He had men to manage, a mission to fulfill. He’d lied and told Matsumura that he was twenty-four, but he was only nineteen, in charge of a contingent of well-trained men, and this was his first big mission. At the outset, no one had questioned his age. His skills had quelled any doubts they might have had. If he failed, his future would be certain failure as well.

Nothing goes well living as a ninja, his father had said.

Takumi hadn’t believed him. He’d thought he could make it go well. After all, there were many kinds of wars and warriors. He’d force himself to be the best.

He hadn’t counted on something in her awakening something in him. He hadn’t factored that in at all. He’d thought he could steel himself against anything. But he’d been wrong. He’d never met a kunoichi.

He shook off thoughts of the girl and went out to meet his men. He had a job to do, and a plan to put it into motion. He was a professional, and as such, had no room for emotion. He would do his job, and do it well. No wind, no woman, nothing would stop him.