My Yakuza

the bed and rumpled the other one beside it slightly.
“We want him to think we sleep in separate beds,” Shiro said.
Kono raised a brow. “I don’t think he’ll believe that for a second.”
Shiro shrugged. “We should make him lunch, right?”
Kono hesitated. “I guess.” He scratched his freshly washed head. He hadn’t thought about lunch.
In the kitchen, they rustled up a salad and pulled out steaks, which Shiro marinated in soy sauce and honey.
Kono found his good mood returning. The guy had the hottest mouth and ass in fuckdom, and he could cook.
They were nervous around each other now that they were fully clothed and unable to maul each other.
Shiro made a punch out of canned juices he found in the kitchen. Kono heard him tinkering around in the freezer, and then there was a soft knock at the door. Kono went to it, but it opened quickly. Jerrell had a key.
“How are you doing?” he asked them.
Shiro came out with chilled glasses of punch.
“This is really good,” Jerrell said, taking a tentative sip. “Is there any booze in here?”
 “None,” Shiro said. “All good, healthy stuff.”
“What is it?”
“Wedding punch.” Shiro grinned. “My grandma’s recipe.”
Jerrell’s face registered a ripple of emotions.
“We’re trying to locate your mom, Shiro. We have sources in Tokyo willing to help us now that they think a police officer has been murdered in the line of duty. Mind if we sit down?”
“Hey, it’s your home,” Kono said.
Jerrell beamed. “What do you think of it?”
I could live here happily fucking Shiro for the rest of my life.
“It’s amazing,” Kono said.
“We love it,” Shiro said.
The we made Kono uncomfortable. Fooling around in private was one thing, alluding to a relationship between them in front of Jerrell was another thing all together.
“I know I feel safe and it’s very quiet. Kono feels that too, right?” Shiro glanced at him.
“Right.”
They sat at the living room table and Jerrell produced a photo lineup that he wanted Shiro to look at.
“Take your time and tell me if any of these men look familiar to you.”
“This one.” Shiro picked out Matsumi-san right away.
“Who is he?” Jerrell asked.
“His name is Matsumi-san. He’s the man who said he’d bought my mom for sex at the Hotel If. Miki introduced me to him.”
Jerrell nodded.
“How did you get his picture?”
Jerrell glanced at Kono. “Is he familiar to you?”
Kono shook his head. “Never seen him before.”
Jerrell’s gaze moved back to Shiro’s troubled one.
“Do you remember where you met him?”
“Sure I do. Miki took me to a bar—”
“You remember the name?”
“The Cage.”
“Go on.”
“Not much really. I bought him the most expensive drinks in the world, then went to find my mother.” Shiro seemed emotional now. “I went to the Hotel If. It’s one of the love hotels they have in Tokyo. I…I don’t know what I expected to find, but…I had to try.”
“I understand.” Jerrell reached over and patted his hand. “Mind getting me another punch?”
Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Yes,” said Jerrell.
Shiro took Jerrell’s empty glass and rose anyway, disappearing to the kitchen.
Jerrell turned grave, keeping his voice low.
“This man is a known sex-slave trafficker. He books a girl, she’s never seen again. We got his name from Harada’s attorneys…they’re throwing all kinds of juicy bones our way now that they realise his trial will go on with or without you.”
Before Kono could respond, Shiro was back with refills.
“So, he probably took my mom?”
Jerrell took his drink, thanking Shiro.
“The interesting thing is, he may still have her. Rumour has it, he keeps a string of tsurekomi yoado—bring along inns is the direct translation, which used to be popular in World War II. He has resurrected these full-service sex inns. They’re expensive to visit and the women are particularly beautiful and exotic. We were told that Siono was in one of them on the outskirts of Tokyo. Matsumi is known to collect women like…unpredictable, dangerous pets. He was given Miki in exchange for tipping the Harada clan off about Shiro’s true identity. I have no idea where she is without having her full name or a decent photo. The one lifted from your cell phone, Shiro, of her in the cage…could be anybody.”
Shiro grew quiet.
“So there’s a chance my mom’s okay?”
“I’ve arranged for somebody at the US Embassy in Tokyo to travel out to the inn where she is supposed to be. As soon as I have some news, I promise I’ll let you know. So, what is it that smells so good?”
“I’m marinating some steaks,” Shiro said.
Kono watched his lover go through the motions of preparing lunch but knew that the guy was upset. Nobody wanted to think about their mom being a sex slave…even a valued one and it was unlikely at this point that they’d ever know what happened to Miki. Kono tried, over the next couple of hours to catch Shiro’s eye, but Shiro evaded his glances.
Jerrell, meanwhile, talked of the case moving forward and the necessity for Shiro and Kono to relocate again.
“I know you trust this buddy of yours,” Jerrell told Kono as Shiro cleared away the lunch plates. “I hope your trust is justified.”
Shiro’s gaze bored into Kono. He felt something twist in his soul…his body. Fuck…I really dig this guy. He watched Shiro walk to the kitchen and had to keep bringing himself back to the conversation with Jerrell, who opened the bag he’s brought with him, handing him new photo ID cards for Kono and Shiro, some cash and a secured credit card.
“You need some groceries before I leave?” Jerrell asked. “It’s probably not a good idea for either of you to step outside.”
“We do need a few things,” Kono said.
He was beginning to climb the walls. It killed him not to be able to touch Shiro. He watched Shiro gathering things for the dishwasher. Jerrell asked for a shopping list and said he’d be back. But then he kept talking. By the time Jerrell finally left to go to the store, Kono was anxious to claim