have to find someone I like for her. Someone strong.”
“Because who wouldn’t want to erase his own family when he can be placed on the Tokugawa koseki ? Is that what you want to do? Steal someone else’s son because you’re not happy with the one you have? Your daughter isn’t even born yet, and you are already bargaining with her as if she’s your property.” Any hope of keeping his temper was gone, and Ichi’s searing anger ate up his calm. “When will you ever learn—”
“When will you ever realize you are Japanese?” His father cut through, slicing past Ichi’s arguments. “The Tokugawa— our clan —have a dynastic responsibility to the people who work for us. Not just the corporation but everything else. The farms. The homes. We are—”
“We are responsible for ensuring their lives are enriched and they have the means to be successful. It doesn’t mean my sister—my goddamned unborn sister—should be whored out so you can live out some feudal wet dream,” Ichiro spat back.
“It is funny how you did not feel that way about Megumi,” Tokugawa growled back. “You were set to marry her until you turned your back on your family.”
“I didn’t turn my—you stick your knives into me as if you have no blame in what happened between me and Megumi. After I went to school, how long did you wait to convince her to marry you? Or were you already sniffing at Megumi before I even left Tokyo?”
“The family has obligations. My children have obligations.”
“Including Megumi’s daughter? Are you going to use her like you used me? Is she going to be bound to someone before the doctor cuts the cord to her mother? Like you did me?”
“I did what is best for you. The Tokugawas remain strong through good ties with other families. You would have benefitted from your marriage—a marriage you chose to walk away from. Now you blame me for taking up that debt? We owed Megumi’s family. You owed her family.”
“I owed them nothing. I owed you nothing,” Ichiro snorted when his father hissed through the phone. “That is all family is to you, old man. Coin you create out of thin air to pay off blood debts. The Tokugawa line is so tied up in familial debt we cannot turn around without cutting off our own skin.”
“You speak of the family koseki as if you haven’t already tarnished our name. If Megumi carried a son, your own name would be but a memory on our registry. I would erase you as quickly as I erased your mother. There—”
Ichi hung up.
Then for good measure, he threw his phone against the fireplace, reveling in the crackling splinter of plastic and metal on stone. A black puff of fur exploded out from under a side table, hissing and complaining while scrambling across Ichiro’s leg. Neko gave one final indignant mewl and launched off Ichi’s shoulder, rocketing upstairs, where she’d be safe from flying pieces of technology and angry tattoo artists.
“Fuck, that was stupid.” Juvenile even. And Ichi felt a hell of a lot better for it. “Son of a bitch. Fucking son of a—”
“Whoa there, Sunshine. What the hell did that phone do to you?” A shadow loomed over Ichi, blocking out the waning sun coming through the windows. Sighing, Ichi looked up at Bobby, too pissed off to enjoy the view even as he mumbled a regretful apology at his outburst. Bobby studied him intently, then lifted his foot, nudging Ichiro’s leg. His cockiness was gone, instead Bobby sounded… sincerely concerned. “You doing okay? You look like you’re about ready to skin someone alive.”
“Don’t tempt me.” As if an alarmingly rotten and unobtainable temptation of Bobby’s crotch in his face weren’t enough to seal Ichiro’s bad mood, spotting his oldest brother’s shock of black hair bobbing past the house’s windows was enough to make him go over. “Fuck. Family. I just—don’t want to fucking deal with them anymore.”
Mike would take one look at Ichiro and work to excavate what
“Because who wouldn’t want to erase his own family when he can be placed on the Tokugawa koseki ? Is that what you want to do? Steal someone else’s son because you’re not happy with the one you have? Your daughter isn’t even born yet, and you are already bargaining with her as if she’s your property.” Any hope of keeping his temper was gone, and Ichi’s searing anger ate up his calm. “When will you ever learn—”
“When will you ever realize you are Japanese?” His father cut through, slicing past Ichi’s arguments. “The Tokugawa— our clan —have a dynastic responsibility to the people who work for us. Not just the corporation but everything else. The farms. The homes. We are—”
“We are responsible for ensuring their lives are enriched and they have the means to be successful. It doesn’t mean my sister—my goddamned unborn sister—should be whored out so you can live out some feudal wet dream,” Ichiro spat back.
“It is funny how you did not feel that way about Megumi,” Tokugawa growled back. “You were set to marry her until you turned your back on your family.”
“I didn’t turn my—you stick your knives into me as if you have no blame in what happened between me and Megumi. After I went to school, how long did you wait to convince her to marry you? Or were you already sniffing at Megumi before I even left Tokyo?”
“The family has obligations. My children have obligations.”
“Including Megumi’s daughter? Are you going to use her like you used me? Is she going to be bound to someone before the doctor cuts the cord to her mother? Like you did me?”
“I did what is best for you. The Tokugawas remain strong through good ties with other families. You would have benefitted from your marriage—a marriage you chose to walk away from. Now you blame me for taking up that debt? We owed Megumi’s family. You owed her family.”
“I owed them nothing. I owed you nothing,” Ichiro snorted when his father hissed through the phone. “That is all family is to you, old man. Coin you create out of thin air to pay off blood debts. The Tokugawa line is so tied up in familial debt we cannot turn around without cutting off our own skin.”
“You speak of the family koseki as if you haven’t already tarnished our name. If Megumi carried a son, your own name would be but a memory on our registry. I would erase you as quickly as I erased your mother. There—”
Ichi hung up.
Then for good measure, he threw his phone against the fireplace, reveling in the crackling splinter of plastic and metal on stone. A black puff of fur exploded out from under a side table, hissing and complaining while scrambling across Ichiro’s leg. Neko gave one final indignant mewl and launched off Ichi’s shoulder, rocketing upstairs, where she’d be safe from flying pieces of technology and angry tattoo artists.
“Fuck, that was stupid.” Juvenile even. And Ichi felt a hell of a lot better for it. “Son of a bitch. Fucking son of a—”
“Whoa there, Sunshine. What the hell did that phone do to you?” A shadow loomed over Ichi, blocking out the waning sun coming through the windows. Sighing, Ichi looked up at Bobby, too pissed off to enjoy the view even as he mumbled a regretful apology at his outburst. Bobby studied him intently, then lifted his foot, nudging Ichiro’s leg. His cockiness was gone, instead Bobby sounded… sincerely concerned. “You doing okay? You look like you’re about ready to skin someone alive.”
“Don’t tempt me.” As if an alarmingly rotten and unobtainable temptation of Bobby’s crotch in his face weren’t enough to seal Ichiro’s bad mood, spotting his oldest brother’s shock of black hair bobbing past the house’s windows was enough to make him go over. “Fuck. Family. I just—don’t want to fucking deal with them anymore.”
Mike would take one look at Ichiro and work to excavate what
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