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Page 79 of Who Said Mobsters Were Scary?

“Of course, sir. Only strict professionalism from now on. I promise.”

A nerve twitches in Daichi’s jaw, but he lets my very unprofessional reply slide. With a wave of his hand, he dismisses us, instructing Aran and Chai to handle the announcement that a lieutenant has stepped down. Since I’m not needed for that, I decide to chill in the lounge and give Naomi a call. She texted me yesterday, but I didn’t get around to replying because of the shitshow that went down in Bangkok.

A bunch of guys with drinks crowd the two arcades, watching the bartender compete against one of the chefs from the Akiyama Group-owned restaurant across the street. It’s just past two in the afternoon, so she must be on her break.

I settle into one of the plush armchairs and absentmindedly flick through the channels on the mounted TV as I dial Naomi’s number.

“Jesus Christ, Leo. How hard is it to reply to a fucking message?” she apprehends me, but a hint of relief worms its way into her stern voice.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s just… Some stuff happened.”

She sighs. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me what it is?”

I can’t. But maybe I could soon. I’ve been flirting with the idea of suggesting to Chai that they could use a new addition to the Group’s marketing department. Naomi’s portfolio is solid even though she’s only been taking on projects for a year. Plus, working here in Japan would mean she’s got one hell of a good excuse to turn down that dumb arranged marriage her folks are trying to force her into. Like seriously, she’s not even into dudes and they want her marrying some random man and having his babies just so she can get over her ‘confused’ sexuality? Give me a break.

“I’m sorry. But I can tell you about me and Chai. I, uh, something happened and I kind of need to talk to someone about it?”

“Oh boy, lemme get some snacks. This is gonna be soooooo good.” I hear rustling and clanking, then a door shutting closed. “Okay. I’m ready for you, babe. Gimme all the juicy details.”

By the time I finish talking to Naomi and agree to go out for dinner with her and Chris, my stomach won’t stop whining for food. I realize I forgot my bento in the conference room, so I head there, shooting Chai a text to call me when he’s done. I’ve decided I want to talk to him about Naomi, so I don’t see any point in waiting to do it. The quicker I ask him,the quicker I’ll know if I can be the bestest friend ever and save her from a life that’s so obviously not for her.

If I’m being honest, I don’t quite understand why she can’t just refuse her family, but then again, I barely remember what having one is like. She was brought up catholic and her parents are very devout and involved with Church stuff, so she’s always had problems with them because of her atheist views.

I reach the conference suite and walk right in, not bothering to knock or announce myself since everyone would’ve left by now. I find my bento where I left it, next to the table’s leg. Picking it up, I’m about to sit down and enjoy it when I hear footsteps approaching and Daichi’s booming voice.

Oh, shit. Is he coming here?

I don’t know why, but I kind of panic. I really don’t want to be alone with him. The briefing went fine, but he was staring daggers at me almost the entire time. With no one around, what’s stopping him from dragging me to some deathmatch where I’ll be forced to fight ten men at the same time? Thanks, but no thanks.

Pulse pounding in my ears, I dash over to the wall partition where the computer and the projector are, crouching down so he won’t see me. He enters, completely oblivious that he’s not alone, and locks the door, grumbling something on his phone.

Fuck, he sounds pissed. I can’t let him find me hiding here, as if I’m spying on him, or I’m a dead man.

I stay low in my hiding spot, eyes and ears strained as he sits at the head of the table. That puts him with his back to me, but it’s not like I can slip past him when the door is across from me and right in his line of sight.

Daichi spends another five minutes barking at someone, then sighs deeply, tossing his phone in the slim briefcase he’s brought with him. He takes out something else. It’s a pinkish red-white object and my brain needs a few moments to figure out it’s a second phone in a very, and I meanvery, obnoxious Hello Kitty phone case.

I can’t believe my eyes as I watch him lean back in his chair and play with the floppy ears, mumbling endearments in a high-pitched voice to it as if it’s alive.

But my shock doesn’t end there. No, no. Daichi Akiyama, the Kumicho of one of the most powerful yakuza organizations in the entirety of Japan also has a Hello Kitty bento box. And a Hello Kitty tablecloth that goes under it. And did I mention the Hello Kitty napkin that he places around his neck so the Hello Kitty T-shirt he wears hidden under his shirt doesn’t get dirty? And don’t get me started on the small pink spoon with a Hello Kitty face at its end or the freaking Hello Kitty themed portable radio playing the Hello Kitty song.

It’s a catchy tune, by the way. But I am shaken. Mind-blown. Poof. I can’t believe what I am witnessing. This man, this deadly, intimidating mafia boss that is feared and respected by so many people, is a full-on Hello Kitty fanboy.

This is scandalous.

In a rush of pure genius and impressive forward thinking, I take out my phone and snap a dozen pictures and even record a cute short video in which he hums along the theme song and eats his Hello Kitty-shaped tiny sausages and rice balls.

Does Chai even know about this? I bet no one does. This looks like the kind of thing you want to keep a secret. I mean, why else would he lock the door?

Oh my god, I can’t wait to tell Chai.

I remain quietly in my corner, waiting and doing my best not to burst out laughing as Daichi continues to whisper sweet things to his phone in a soft voice. He takes his time enjoying his lunch and by the time he’s got all the incriminating Hello Kitty paraphernalia back in his briefcase, my legs are cramping badly. Fortunately, he’s out of the room shortly after, so I finally get up and stretch, groaning as my muscles protest the long time I spent folded in that small corner.

I also urgently need to take a piss.

Swinging by the restroom, I take care of that business and return to the lounge with my bento box. I’m about to call Chai and tell him all about his dad’s secret obsession with the cute anime cat, when an Akiyama ‘brother’, as they call themselves between each other, walks over to where I’m sitting on one of the bar stools and gives me a hard glare.

“The Kumicho wants to see you,” he says, making it obvious I have no choice but to go.