1.1 | The Yakuza Bride

Chapter 19

They barely made conversation during the journey to Tokyo. She was deep in thought, her mind occupied with her family. She hoped they would be in time. She couldn't help but give in to her anxiety, of being too late, of arriving in Tokyo to find that she would be too late, of not being able to speak to her grandfather.

Ojii-san...

She had to see him.

A car had been sent to fetch them. She wasn't in the mood to speak, but when they neared her neighbourhood, she pointed out the familiar sights to him.

'That's my elementary school,' she said when the car sped past a double story building. 'And beside it is my high school. The high school canteen sells really nice udon.'

'My friends and I like to hang out at that park. During Spring we have picnics there.'

'That's the supermart! We can go later. I miss the supermarts here.'

'That street has very cute cafes and shops.'

'Osuke's grandmother's shop is down that street. I used to work there.'

Her mother greeted them at the door, pulling her into a warm hug. Hana shut her eyes as she buried her face on okaa-san's shoulder, her eyes growing moist at her mother's comforting scent.

'Hana-chan, we've been so busy,' she muttered, 'we didn't have time to get an extra mattress. You and Leon have to share your room, or you can squeeze with your father and I in our room.'

'What about the futon?' Hana asked with a light smile.

The family kept futons in a cupboard in the tea ceremony room. When she and Kai were much younger, she, her parents and Kai would sleep there together.

'I threw it out!' okaa-san exclaimed with disgust. 'The futons got mouldy and I threw the whole lot out.'

That was worrying. She had a single bed, and she didn't think she and Leon could fit into it. But her mother was worried enough as it was and so she hugged her and let out a comforting hum.

'Don't worry,' she murmured, her lips tugged into a small smile. 'We'll figure something out.'

They went to see ojii-san in his room first. His condition had been declining over the last few months ever since malignant tumours reappeared. They had expected him to hold on until the end of the year, but three days ago, when he couldn't get out of bed, the family knew the worst had come earlier than expected.

He could no longer sit up and had been sleeping more. He was too weak to speak too. He could only manage a word or so before he claimed to be tired and would shut his eyes again.

Her wedding in New York had been the last time he left Japan and made any major appearance in public.

Her chest tightened at the sight of her grandfather in his bed with a blanket tucked around him. The family knew his health had been deteriorating, had even been told that he hadn't long to live. But, oh, being faced with the reality of the situation, her heart could only stutter painfully.

'Jii-san,' Hana murmured, and then she found that she didn't know what to say.

Her throat tightened. She didn't want to cry in front of him. His eyes landed on hers for a brief moment. Under his blanket, he was moving his hands. Hana reached for a hand, her heart breaking at the paper-thin skin and the weak grip.

A long time ago, her grandfather had been the one to teach her knife-throwing. With one flick of a wrist, he'd send the blade flying into a dart board.