I made a mistake, sure, but it didn't feel that way.

After a secret night of fun, I was buzzing at work. I must have looked crazy. People kept giving me looks. Raised eyebrows, discerning glances, little grins. It was as if "I had hot sex last night" was plastered on my forehead. 

"Oh my god, Mina. Spill!" I looked beside me and found Kat.

I touched my forehead just to make sure. "Spill what?"

"Don't give me that. What's gotten into you? This smile. This glow." She circled a flexed hand over her view of me. "It's a vibe, babes."

My eyes fluttered down. I could feel how ridiculously large my smile was. I felt like an idiot, wrapped up in a handsome stranger, unable to get over a one-night stand. It should have felt scary or wrong, but all I wanted was to do it again as soon as possible.

Kat rolled her chair closer to me. "I know that look. You're in love."

"What? No. Far from it."

She smiled as if her hidden plan was successful. I realized I told her a lot by telling her she was wrong. "So, what got into you? Who got into you?" she teased. My face could not possibly be that loud.

I hadn't felt like this in so long. It was as scary as it was exciting. "Okay, I did have sex with someone last night, but it's not like that. It was a one-time kind of thing."

"Sure it was, babes. Sure." A doctor stopped at the desk, thankfully interrupting her. She waited until they left before continuing. "Now I see why you never come out with us."

"That's not why," I laughed. "I'm just not used to things over here. I'm always in Shinjuku."

"And you're already getting laid. How?" She tried to pry information from me, but I would never tell her about Ryuzo. I would barely tell her about myself.

"Hello!" Ayumi came and sat between us. We returned our focus to our screens.

"Hi, Ayumi," Kat and I said in tandem.

"What are you girls talking about?" Her heavy accent was as cute as her attempt at nonchalance. She leaned her chin on her fists, her eyes as wide as her smile. It was her way of prompting us to tell her the newest gossip.

Ayumi was fun. She looked and sounded like she was in a pet toy commercial while she was spilling the hottest tea I had ever heard.

"We were discussing why Mina is always staying in Shinjuku rather than coming out with us," Kat lied to save me.

She frowned. "Do you not like fun, Mina?"

I snorted, then realized her question was sincere. "Yes, I like fun, Ayumi."

"You know she's living in the Kabukicho apartment?" Kat asked her.

Ayumi's lips formed a perfect, tiny O. "No! That is so mean to do!"

"I'm perfectly safe," I insisted for the fiftieth time. "The Yakuza can't be that bad."

"Oh," Ayumi said as if I gave her the answer to a question. "You don't know about them?"

Learning Japanese was my priority. I hadn't made it to history lessons yet. I could have googled it, but . . . "No."

"Mina-chan." She leaned her cheek on a fist with that anime grin. "Do they teach you nothing in America?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I said to myself.

She scooted closer to lean in and whisper. "The Yakuza have been around a very long time — longer than the police. There are different gumi or kai — families — that control certain areas, and they are all a little different." She sounded like she was reading a storybook to a group of kids rather than explaining organized crime to an adult. "Kabukicho-Shinjuku is controlled by the Fujiwara-kai. The Fujiwara-kai are the second oldest family, third biggest, and were the first to do business outside of Japan. They know many people in many places."

"They're like the Mafia. Do they pay off cops too?" Kat asked.

Ayumi shrugged like she knew the answer but wouldn't tell. "The police want peace. If the families get along, it is less fighting and less mess for them to clean up."

Kat laughed. "So, yes."

She sighed and explained. "The Yakuza consider themselves ninkyo dantai, following the path of the samurai, doing what they believe is best whether or not the law agrees. But they do not involve the public. That is their rule. Or, it is supposed to be." She lowered her voice even more. "Some people believe Yakuza are tied to every crime in Japan — smuggling, theft, violence — but there is no proof of that! But . . . even if it were true, there never would be proof. Do you understand?"

A bunch of men fighting amongst themselves, working on the fringe of legality, but with a bit of bribery and illegal business involved. That I was used to, in more ways than one. "Yeah."

"The Fujiwara-kai have no reason to involve you. Just stay away and never, never accept a favor from them."

Sex wasn't a favor. Probably. "Okay."

. . .

Ayumi's words bothered me the rest of the day. When I was home that night, I sat in bed sipping sake to get myself to sleep.

My sheets still smelled like him, the sake tasted like him, the red light flooding through my window traced all the places he had been. It was supposed to feel like a mistake, but it didn't. I should have been scared, but I wasn't. I just didn't enjoy being the last to know something.

It seemed wrong to Google "Yakuza" on Japanese Wi-Fi, on my personal phone, but that's exactly what I did. I only went as deep as Wikipedia before I got scared. I learned about the oyabun or adoptive father, the kobun or foster children, and their big brother-little brother structure. Plenty of unfamiliar words to describe something I knew from my childhood.

If people knew where I came from, what would they say? Would they call my people dangerous criminals, too?

Where I grew up, the police were more frightening than the thefts or petty crimes that happened. The gang in my neighborhood kept us protected in the best way they knew how. The man we assumed was my father was never in my life, even before the start of his life sentence. My mom, who got pregnant when she had absolutely no ability or desire to be a mother, left me with my grandmother instead. But none of that felt like a loss because there were so many kids like me, and plenty of people around who were willing to help my grandma fill in the gaps.

My neighborhood was my village until my grandma moved us away to put me in a better school. I lost my village and the protection that came with it.

When I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time with Vince, the cops I grew up to fear did exactly as expected. I was a profile — a statistic to them. Guilty until proven innocent. When it came down to who treated me best in my life, it wasn't the people sworn to protect me. It was the people they called criminals.

The Fujiwara-kai didn't seem much different from that. My perception was very skewed, but it was all I had. That, and Ryuzo. A man who made it seem like I was the only person in the universe when he was the one who made me see stars.

I closed the page and decided to let it go. The less I knew, the better. I believed that until Ayumi's words echoed in my head. They know many people in many places.

Suddenly, it clicked. 

Ryuzo hadn't guessed Tokyo would be nicer to me. He had guaranteed it.

. . .

The restaurant was always closed for the first part of the week, but it was more than that. When the restaurant opened again, he wasn't there. As the days passed, I tried to keep from getting paranoid — my habit of being suspicious when people disappeared after having sex with me.

After what Ayumi taught me, and the suspicion I had, maybe not seeing Ryuzo was good. Even if it made me feel bad.

After work, I found a little place to have dinner. The hypnotizing smell of robata-grilled pineapple pulled me in. I wanted it with salmon but I mixed my words up somewhere and ended up with pineapple and sake. A delicious combo, but after a little laugh, the owner gave me a plate of salmon sashimi. Close enough.

Someone sat beside me. I turned toward him and my eyes widened. With a mouth packed full of food, I must have looked extra surprised. Ryuzo smiled at my misery.

"Hey," I squeaked behind my hand.

"Hey." The allure of his deep voice made it harder to breathe. "Drinking without me?"

Looking at him made food seem pointless. He looked much more delicious in a black suit and pale gray sweater underneath, his hair slicked back into a folded bun. I knew he tasted more delicious, too.

I looked down at the sake to keep from staring at him. "Please. Have some. I got it by accident. Watashi no . . . nihongo wa kuso desu." My Japanese is shit. I learned that one early. Saying it wrong only helped my point.

He chuckled, and it made me smile. I slid the bottle toward him and he finally accepted, pouring himself a drink. He glanced at me for a moment before taking a sip, that smolder teasing me in the few seconds his eyes were on me. It made me miss when other parts of him were on me, too.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm not stalking you, if that is what you're asking."

"It wasn't." It was. "But thank you for clarifying."

I took another bite, trying to hide my excitement over his presence when it should have caused concern. He asked me if I was afraid of him. I should be, whether he was stalking me or not. But while he sat there, his eyes tracing over me dreamily as if I was still lying naked beneath him, I couldn't think straight.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Why?"

"It makes it hard to be upset with you."

"And why do you want to be upset with me?"

I hummed with faux contemplation. "I don't know. Maybe because when someone disappears after sleeping with you, it means they don't want to see you again."

He chuckled as if I said something ridiculous. 

"Stop. I asked you if you wanted to see me again and you didn't say anything."

"Why would I need to say something?" He leaned closer to whisper. "Had I not just shown you?" 

"Oh, so you do want to see me again?" I taunted.

He hummed and leaned his head on his fist, giving me that lazy smile. "If we didn't have to rush that night — if I had time to do everything I wanted to do to you — that question wouldn't be in your mind at all."

His words touched me in all the places they shouldn't. I hid it the best I could, even though my cheeks and panties were on fire. "Well, I've been told Americans are not the smartest bunch. Sometimes you'll have to spell things out for me."

Ryuzo tutted but never lost his smirk. "Fine," he said. "I like you, Mina, I liked what we did, and I would do many things to make sure we do that many, many more times."

His message made me want to wrap myself around him and kiss him until his lips bled, but his choice of words sent me back to the thoughts I had before. Did Ryuzo get my boss fired? Even though I wanted to know if my suspicions were right, I knew better than to ask flat out. How much sway could he have if he was only a bouncer at one of their restaurants?

"I've been meaning to tell you how much better work has been much better since my reassignment," I led into my story as nonchalantly as possible. "But, it's weird. I found out I was reassigned because my old boss was fired. And just a few days after I had been complaining about him. What a coincidence, isn't it?"

He held my gaze with a hint of a mischievous smile. Neither confirm nor deny.

"Taking someone's livelihood away because I didn't like them? That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

He cocked an eyebrow and took a sip. "I can't say I know what you are talking about, but what I do know is that you are a good person. That doctor, according to the people he worked for, was not."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"I know," he said. "Sometimes people just do things for the people they like." 

He looked at me with those dark eyes. I stared him down, unwilling to let him win. Men like him weren't my weakness. I didn't have a weakness until I met him.

Giving in, I sighed. "Ryuzo, I don't need someone to take care of me, especially when I don't ask them to. I cry sometimes, but I'm more than strong enough to take care of myself. Even when watashi no nihongo wa kuso desu."

He chuckled again. "I understand."

"Good. So it won't happen again?"

"Will what happen again?" He thought he was cute.

I took the cup from his hand and finished the last of his drink, then I stood and grabbed my bag, thanking the shop owner. He thanked me four times over while I left.

As I walked toward my apartment, I didn't need to look over my shoulder to know he was there. "Are you following me?" I asked.

"No," Ryuzo answered.

I went farther, rounding the corner to my gate. "Are you sure?"

"I live this way, too."

"Really?"

"Yes," he said with a smirk. "Sort of."

"Mm-hmm."

We made it to my gate, and he stopped with me. He lingered just outside my reach, unable to wipe the grin from his face even when catching the corner of his lip between his teeth. I wanted him. So bad. And I hated myself for it.

"Let me see you again, Mina-chan," he said, not asked. "Saturday. Come drink with me. I promise to take my time with you after."

My hesitation was fragile, only existed because I knew it should. The things that man did to me . . . Maybe he was dangerous, but I didn't care. I couldn't care when my body was begging for him to prove me wrong.

"Why not tonight?" I asked him.

"Tonight?"

I nodded. "Why not see me right now?"

___

A/N: Thank you for reading! Don't forget to add this story to your library for update alerts!