Chapter 7: Collateral

I couldn't stop crying. I was alone.

It was the worst feeling in the world.

I would never see Mom again. I would never hear her laugh at some stupid gag program on TV. I would never see her lips pursed in concentration as she perused through the latest fashion magazine. I would never see her standing over the stove in the kitchen, making my favorite curry and rice.

I would never see her again.

After a while, the tears stopped coming, and it was painful to cry. My chest hurt, like someone had punched me repeatedly right below my sternum, and it hurt to blink.

Still, I didn't feel like I cried enough.

It would never be enough.

Never enough.

After a while, someone knocked at the door and instinctively, I stiffened. I couldn't help but think maybe I was going to die in a couple of seconds. Ayame's dad was after me now. All the tears must've gone to my head, because I failed to think of why someone who had my death on their mind would bother to knock.

"Tamae-san?"

Definitely not an assassin. My shoulders slumped and I closed my eyes. Sleep didn't seem possible, but it was worth trying.

I buried my face into the pillows thick enough to muffle even an airplane taking off in the same room. "Leave me alone."

But apparently, the pillows weren't thick enough to mask the sound of incessant knocking. "I said, leave me alone!"

Whoever it was must not have spoken Japanese nor English, since I said the first in Japanese and the last in English and I watched the doorknob twist, hands clenching into the bedsheets.

Akahito stuck his head around the door, his long braid dangling in the air. "I am to sit with you."

"Go to hell."

He grimaced. "I wish you would not use such words."

"Fuck you."

He blinked. "Well, you're a little young for my tastes. How about you come back after a couple more years?"

I stared at him. With his deadpan expression and the newspaper tucked under his arm, it was hard to tell if he was joking. "I was kidding."

"I certainly hope so. You're not my type. Too stubborn," he said and then gestured to the armchair next to the French windows. The curtains had been drawn enough for moonlight to stream into the otherwise dark room. "Mind if I take a seat there?"

"Please leave," I said. "I'm not in the mood to talk to you."

He closed the door behind him and walked to the armchair, his slippered feet silent on the carpet. It seemed weird for the bodyguard to wear such casual shoes, but then again, we were in a Japanese home and most people wore soft-soled slippers to protect the floor. It was one of the things I liked about Japanese culture. "Who said anything about talking? I have a newspaper."

I watched him flick on a small lamp on the writing desk next to the armchair, bathing the room in a warm light that did absolutely nothing for my mood. "Why are you here then?"

Akahito shrugged as he settled into the dark burgundy seat and rustled the thin sheets of Mainichi-Shinbun. "You have nothing to live for. Your father is dead and now, so is your mother. Soon, you will die. Personally, I don't know why Tsubasa's keeping you hidden. Sooner or later, his father is going to find you."

There wasn't a note of malice in his words, just certainty. "How can you say that? Do you get some kind of sick joy out of this?"

He turned the pages of his newspaper, eyes intent on whatever he was reading. Probably something about the rising prices of rice or something equally as...boring. "The truth is terrible, but that is exactly what it is. The truth. I have known his father for a very long time and I have never seen him not get what he wants. I respect Tsubasa. I think he's not a bad kid. But he's fighting the inevitable."

I swallowed my dry throat. "His father burned my mother alive."

He inclined his head to one side. "Yes. He did. That's not the worst he's done. And your mother will not be the last person he kills. You know nothing of Tofukuji Hiro. You do not know his past, where he came from. On the outside, he presents a veneer of civility. On the inside, he is a monster. A pity your father never knew this until it killed him. I’m sorry, until Tofukuji-san killed him."

He said this so matter-of-factly, I wasn't sure how to respond. "And you work for him?"

He licked his thumb and turned another page. "I do not work for him. I work for his son. There is, trite as this may sound, a difference. A world of difference."

"But they're related."

"In name. In blood. But that is all," he said and then sighed. "I thought you didn't want to talk? If you don't mind, I'd like to read the newspaper. I rarely get enough time to read more about the world."

And with that, he turned back to his paper. The conversation was shut up neatly, like a box with a perfectly fitting cover and I gazed at the empty glass of orange juice, the pulp drying on the bottom of the transparent glass.

After an eternity and a half, although it was more than fifteen minutes, he drew in a deep breath and folded up the newspaper. "Why are you looking at me?"

Now, it was my turn to shrug. "I didn't have anything else to look at."

To be honest, he wasn't half-bad. Okay, so he was more than not-half-bad looking, but I'd never admit that, not for a golden mansion. Delicate, yet utterly masculine features with dark eyes, I had to ask myself if he'd been chosen for his looks or his expertise in the body-guarding category. Did I really want to ask? "Why are you here?"

"Tsubasa asked me to sit with you."

"Why?"

He regarded me with those dark eyes, slightly tip-tilted at the corners. With his hair braided back like that, he was serious competition to all those Legolas fans. "He was under the impression you would attempt to kill yourself."

The breath caught in my throat. It'd never crossed my mind and the bodyguard crossed his arms. "You never thought about it?"

I shook my head mutely.

"Interesting," he said quietly. "You have nothing left. What do you live for? Why do you live?"

"I...don't know," I replied and stared down at my hands clasped in my lap. "I don't know. I never, I never thought about it."

"Why shouldn't you?" He placed his feet up on the ottoman, rested his arms on the armrests. He looked so relaxed, it was hard to think he was responsible for the wellbeing of the heir of one of the richest men in the world, the heir of the man who was responsible for the collapse of my family. "Both of your parents are dead. Your home is no more. You cannot leave this place or else you will be killed. What is there for you to live for?"

What is there for you to live for?

What is there for you to live for?

I shifted in the bed and something poked me, digging painfully into the side of my hip.

Dad's ring.

I'd completely forgotten about it.

The golden ring glinted in the half-light as I rolled it around in my palm. It was too big to wear and I didn't want to chance losing it.

I had nothing from Mom. Nothing but a bunch of memories. Not even a picture.

My hand clenched around the ring, and I looked at Akahito. What emotions would he see in my eyes? What shape would my lips be twisted into? The by-now familiar heat settled over my chest and my vision wavered.

I thought I couldn't cry, not anymore, but I was wrong.

Oh, so wrong.

"It's not fair," I managed to choke out through the tears streaming down my face. "It's not fair! My family never did anything to him. My mom was an innocent. My dad just wanted us to have a happy life. And he killed them. He killed them! What do I do? What am I supposed to do?"

Akahito watched me from the armchair, handsome face impassive. "I don't know. You are the only person who knows. What are you going to do?"

What was I going to do? I shook my head. "I don't know."

"Why don't you kill yourself?" he asked and for a moment, I saw a horrifying image of me hanging from the ceiling fan, tongue protruding, hair in my face. "After all, you'd be doing yourself a favor. No matter what you do, I'm sure it would be far less painful than what Tsubasa's father has planned. He is not...kind to women."

I struggled against the urge to tunnel deeper into the sheets. Oh yeah, silk was really going to save me.

Yeah right.

"I want him to die," I said. "I want him to die. Slowly. Painfully. Just like how my dad. But worse."

And I did. It took a while until I could wrap my head around getting revenge against the man who had ruined my family, took everything away from me, but once the seed got planted, it was like a runaway train on rails that extended all the way into eternity.

Revenge.

The ring bit deeply into my palm and I opened my hand, stared at the small sapphire shaped like a teardrop.

I would never see my father.

I would never see my mother.

I wanted him to die.

Tofukuji Hiro had to die.

"You want him to die," said Akahito, enunciating every syllable, every word, until the room rang with the finality of my words. "You think it will so easy? You think it will be as easy as simply saying such words? You are more of an idiot than I thought."

He was right. I mean, who was I kidding? Tsubasa's father was one of the most powerful and influential men in Japan, no, worldwide. I couldn't get close to him. Hell, I couldn't get within sixty feet of him. He probably traveled with a friggin' army.

"How badly do you want him to die?"

Akahito's voice was quiet, almost too quiet for ears.

But I heard him. I heard him too well. "Don't ask me stupid questions like that. Are you teasing me? This bastard killed my family. He took everything from me. If it's the last thing I do, I'll see him dead."

I meant it. I wanted him dead more than anything else in the world.

They say two wrongs don't make a right.

Clearly, they didn't know what they were talking about.

"And will you be the one?" he asked. "Will you be the one to kill him? Will you be the one to draw the blade across his throat? Will you be the one to engineer a bomb to explode as soon as he gets in his Rolls Royce? Will you be the one to stand over his grave?"

All of them sounded so damn improbable. But God, I wanted them so bad. Wanted them so bad enough it was painful to think of another alternative.

Moisture began to dry on my cold face. "Even if it kills me."

Akahito stood up and shadows crossed his emotionless face. "Give me the ring."

Startled by his sudden movement, I backed into the massive wooden headboard. "What ring?"

He nodded in my direction. "The ring that's in your hand. It belonged to your father, didn't it? I want it."

"Are you serious? This is the last thing I have of my dad. Like hell I'm going to give it to you."

"Do you want that ring more than revenge?"

His words stung. Granted, the ring was Dad's, but to imply that I was more fixated to material things than the more important issue of my family's honor..."Anything. Anything but the ring."

He shook his head. "No. I can show you. I can teach you how to get back at Tofukuji Hiro. But I will not do that until you give up the ring."

The sapphire gleamed with some hidden blue fire as I stared at it, nestled in the palm of my cupped hands. "Why do you want this? Don’t you get paid enough being Tsubasa's bodyguard?"

He laughed, a low, hoarse sound. I wasn’t too sure I wanted to hear it again in a hurry. "Don't be ridiculous. Do you think I envy a dead man's belongings? Consider it insurance."

"Insurance?"

"You'll get it back when you fulfill your goal. When you kill Tofukuji. But until then, I will hold it ransom." His teeth gleamed white in the semi-darkness. "That thing is the most precious to you now, isn't it? It's your only reminder of the past, of what you must fight for. Then, I want it. For teaching you."

I didn't know whether to believe him or not. "Oh, yeah? What can you teach me?"

He squared his shoulders, cracked his neck, and I had to admit, it was kind of intimidating. "I can teach you how to kill Tofukuji. I can teach you how to get back at him. I can show you the road to revenge. But I will ask for that ring as collateral."

Dad's ring.

When I thought I lost it, when I thought I would never see it again...to lose it again...

But what did he have to gain? Why should I trust him?

I sat up in bed, moved to the side and placed my feet on the floor, the carpet rich and soft on my bare skin. "And if I do this? What do you get out of this?"

"What a silly question. My charge will become the heir to Tofukuji Electronics. I will be guarding one of the world's most powerful men."

That sounded too pedestrian. Too pedestrian for the man whose eyes shone like polished black onyx. There had to something more, there had to. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Believe me or don't believe me," he replied. "But I can show you how to kill Tsubasa's father. It will not be easy. It will be painful. But it will happen. In the end."

And in the end, I gave him the ring.