The Yakuza’s New Girlfriend
By Keiko Tanaka

Kazuo Shimada was very drunk. But he was aware of her as soon as she walked into the room. She was dressed in a slinky black dress that clung to every curve of her well developed body. Her long, straight, silky black hair hung straight down her back. She wore little makeup, or so it appeared, except for her cherry red lipstick. She looked around, then right at him before making her way toward him. Everything seemed in slow motion as he watched her approach. He couldn’t believe his good fortune when she stopped next to his table.
“Is this seat taken?” she asked, her voice strong, yet very feminine.
He motioned at the seat to his left. “Please.”

She gave him a warm smile as she sat beside him, putting her black hand purse on the table to her left. The waiter came over as she slid a gold cigarette case out of her purse.
“Scotch on the rocks,” she said as she withdrew a long cigarette with a cork colored filter from her case. “Make it a double.”
The waiter looked at her as if she were a child, which he could tell infuriated the woman. “Do you have identification, young lady?”
The woman looked at him as if he were the lowest life form on the planet, then picked up her purse and cigarette case. “I guess I need to take my business elsewhere.”
Kazuo put a hand on her arm as she rose to leave. He couldn’t understand the waiter’s attitude. She looked at least 25. “Maybe I could buy the lady a drink,” he said to the waiter. The waiter nodded and moved off to fetch her drink.

The lady slid back into her chair. “Thank you,” she told her savior as she placed her purse and cigarette case back on the bar. “But I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can,” he said as he gallantly lit her cigarette for her. “But I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your company otherwise.”
The woman drew deeply on her cigarette, then launched a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. “Thank you again.”

“No problem,” the man said, pocketing his lighter as the waiter brought her drink. He raised his beer and they clinked glasses. “Cheers,” he said.

He watched the woman take a sip of scotch, then wince as the fiery liquid went down her throat. Then she turned and smiled at him again. “You don’t remember me, do you, Kazuo?”
“Who are…?” he said, then a smile came over his face as he recognized her. “Little Miho? Yes, it’s Little Miho, all grown up!” And damn sexy too. He got up, not easily with his state of drunkness, and hugged her, which basically meant she was supporting all his weight.
Miho Watanabe laughed. “Hello, Uncle Kazuo.”
“How’s your father?” Kazuo asked, after straightening and regaining his balance.
Miho’s pleasant gaze darkened, the fire in her eyes as bright as the end of the cigarette she was drawing deeply upon. At that moment, he actually feared her, without knowing why. Being a yakuza, he didn’t scare all that easily.

“The same,” Miho finally replied, smoke escaping between those silky red lips. “Always the same.”
“Good,” Kazuo said, deciding to drop the subject that obviously hit a nerve somehow.
He watched Miho surveying the action in the bar a moment before continuing. “So what brings you here, Miho?”

Miho smiled. “I needed a drink and a cigarette on the way home.”
Kazuo nodded. “Many of us do. Not only that, but some companionship too.”
Miho blew a cloud of smoke toward him savagely. “It’s a bit early to start hitting on me, Kazuo.”
Kazuo felt ashamed that she would think such a thing. “I’m sorry,” Kazuo stammered. “But I…”
Miho put her hand on his leg under the table and squeezed gently, a very intimate gesture. “I didn’t say I didn’t like you, Kazuo,” she said gently. “But you’re not going to get in my panties that easily.”
Kazuo didn’t know what to say, so he settled for taking another gulp of his beer. An image came to mind, they were in his bed, having rough, satisfying sex, her screaming in pleasure…. He shook his head to clear the image, ashamed of himself. Kazuo signaled the waiter for another drink.
The waiter came over. “I’m sorry, sir, but we can no longer serve you.”

“What is this?” Kazuo stammered.
“We have rules, sir,” the waiter explained politely. “We cannot be responsible. It is obvious you have had enough.”
Kazuo started to rise and unbuttoned his jacket. His 9mm pistol in a holster under his armpit was now clearly visible.
Miho tore her eyes off the gun and then stood herself. “Do you know who this man is?” she snapped.
“Yeah, yes, ma’am,” the waiter stammered. “But…”
“Then you know he should be treated with respect!” Miho interrupted. “Now get him his bill, he will take his business elsewhere!”

“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter said, relieved to escape the scene, even if it was for a moment.
Kazuo gave her a slight smile. “You didn’t really think I would kill him, did you?”
Miho downed the rest of her scotch and sat the empty glass on the table. “I thought you might,” she said, slipping her cigarette case back in her purse. She put out the remaining stub of her cigarette and got up.
The waiter brought the bill and proferred it to Kazuo reluctantly. The yakuza glanced at it, then grabbed a money clip from his pocket and threw a few bills at the waiter. “Keep the change,” he said. “Buy yourself a personality.” Kazuo took Miho’s arm and they headed toward the exit, stopping only to get their coats on the way out.

When they went outside, Miho turned to Kazuo.
“Thank you for the drink,” Miho said, dashing his hopes with a few simple words. She started to move away but Kazuo grabbed her arm.
“Wait,” he said. “You just got here.”
Miho looked at the hand on her arm, then back at Kazuo. The look in her eyes chilled him to the bone. “Let. Go.”
Kazuo let her go like someone who just touched a hot stove.
“Good boy,” Miho said. She pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. “Now, if you have something to ask me, then ask. Otherwise, I’ll see you around.”
Kazuo was taken aback. Women did not usually talk to him like this. This was not the obedient, sweet little girl he had once known.

“I should not drive like this,” he admitted. “Could you drive me home?”
Miho patted his arm. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Yes, I would be happy to drive you home.”
Kazuo led her to black Lexus. He fumbled with a set of keys until he found the right one, then and opened the passenger door. Kazuo got in, then Miho went around to the driver’s seat and got in beside him.
After they got settled in, Kazuo patted Miho’s knee. “Ah, it’s good to see you, girl. We have to go celebrate! Take us to another bar!”

Miho saw her reflection in the windshield as she lit a cigarette. The light from the flame lit up her beautiful face in a warm, yellow glow. “I think I need to take you home.” Miho put the car in gear and pulled away.
“Spoil sport,” Kazuo sniffed, deep down knowing she was right. “Just like your father.”
Miho blew out a savage stream of smoke at the suggestion. “I am nothing like him, Uncle Kazuo.”
Kazuo’s gaze softened. “Yes, you’re right.” He smiled. “You’re so gorgeous! Smoking cigarettes! So grown up! I can’t believe it.”

“Times have changed,” Miho said, stopping at a red light. “But the years have been kind to you.”
“Such a flatterer!” Kazuo admonished. “I have a lot more around the middle and more gray on top.”
Miho ruffled his gray hair. “It’s distinguished.” She whispered in his ear. “And a lot of women like men with some meat on their bones.”
Kazuo impulsively put his arm around Miho and hugged her, knocking her breath from her for a moment. “I can see that having you around would be good for my ego. But I bet some handsome man is keeping you happy at night, eh?”

“Now who’s the flatterer?” Miho asked.
“Are you telling me no one has bagged you yet? That’s hard to believe.”
Miho straightened his tie. “Maybe I’ve been holding out for you.”
“Oh, boy!” Kazuo exclaimed. “Do you hear this? What a woman, eh?”
The light changed and Miho just smiled as she pulled away.

Miho got Kazuo home and it took her supporting him to get him out of the car. After an indeterminable amount of time waiting for Kazuo to fish his house keys out of his pocket and actually putting the appropriate key in the lock, she finally got him inside.
Miho led him to a big overstuffed chair and eased him into it. She locked the door behind her. When Miho turned around, she smiled at Kazuo.
“How about a nightcap, Kazuo?” she asked sweetly.
Kazuo roused to life once again. “Perfect! What a woman, she knows what I want.”
“Indeed I do,” Miho said, going to the bar. She sat down her purse and poured two snifters of brandy. Miho reached into her purse and took out her cigarette case, and thin gold lighter. She lit a cigarette, then took his drink over to Kazuo.

“Ah, excellent!” Kazuo said, accepting the brandy glass she offered him. He clinked glasses with her, sending brandy sloshing all over the inside of his glass. “To old friends. May they all be as beautiful as you are.”
Miho nodded, blushing, then sipped her brandy. Kazuo downed his in one gulp. She sat on the end of the couch facing his chair, leaned back, and took a puff off her cigarette. It was only a matter of time now.
“It pleases me you find me beautiful, Kazuo,” Miho commented.
“How could I not?” Kazuo asked. “Any one could see it. You were such a beautiful child also.”
Miho blew smoke rings at him and smiled. “And did you want to fuck me then?”
Kazuo was taken aback. “No! You were just a little girl! I would never…”
Miho slid off the couch and sat on his lap. “But you want to fuck me now, don’t you?” she said, putting her hand between his legs and feeling the bulge she knew would be there.
Kazuo was speechless, but finally found his voice. “Y-y-yes,” he stammered softly.
Miho rose and held out her hand. “Let’s go to bed, then,” she breathed.
Kazuo grasped her hand and literally fell all over himself getting up. It took most of Miho’s strength just to keep him from crashing to the floor. He put his arms around her and tried to kiss her. His breath reeked of alcohol and cigar smoke. Miho put a finger up to his lips.
“Be patient, lover,” she admonished, then led him to his bed.

Miho sat on the bed with Kazuo, then pushed off his suit jacket and lay it aside. He wore a holster, complete with the loaded 9mm pistol inside it underneath his jacket. Miho smiled.
Kazuo shook his head in disbelief. Not only did he see Miho in the alcoholic haze he had been suffering through the last couple of hours, he was fighting to stay awake. He couldn’t believe it. Here was this young, beautiful girl about to offer herself to him, and he could hardly stay awake.
Miho swung his legs up on the bed, and eased his head back on the pillow. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said seductively.

Kazuo watched as Miho rose from the bed, yanking his pants and underwear free. He yawned helplessly as he watched her pull off her slinky black dress. Miho stood before him wearing only her white bra and panties. He watched in awe as she unhooked her bra and lowered her panties, standing naked in front of him. She has an incredible body, he thought as he watched her approach him once more. Miho climbed back on his bed and crawled over him, slowly, seductively. Now her lovely body hovered over his.
Miho’s gaze was fixed on Kazuo’s gun, looking on it almost reverently. When she had seen the large black pistol in the holster underneath his left armpit for at the bar, Miho almost had an orgasm right then and there. It was beautiful. She had to have it. Miho thought about what it would feel like to hold the pistol in her hand, fire it, feel the recoil of the discharge, the power in her hand. The power to kill. It got her excited.
“I’ll just take this off your hands,” Miho said, pulling the gun from the holster, delighting in the feel of it in her hand. She recognized it immediately. A Glock 9mm pistol. Easy to use. It was amazing the information one could get on the internet. She had read all about guns, both revolvers and automatics, while preparing for this moment. Miho knew all about hold to load, handle, and fire them all. She didn’t know what kind Kazuo had, but she just knew he carried one. It was all so easy.
Miho climbed off the bed, slid out the magazine and saw it was full. All those lovely little bullets. Perfect. She slid the magazine back in the gun and pulled back the slide. Now it was ready to use. Miho looked at Kazuo, who was still looking at her in disbelief, then laughed out loud.
Miho’s seductive smile turned hard as she aimed the pistol at his head. “You didn’t think I was really going to fuck you, did you, old man?”
“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I needed a fucking gun,” Miho snapped. “I remembered how you used to look at me. I knew I could use that.” She laughed. “I used to think you were really something when I was a little girl. A real live yakuza. A dangerous man, perhaps a cold blooded killer, carrying an illegal as hell gun. Now look at you. Pathetic. You made it all too easy.”

Kazuo couldn’t believe this was happening. He had been outsmarted by a girl. He knew he was old, and he was drunk, but not senile, or helpless.
“Why are you doing this?” Kazuo repeated.

Miho aimed the pistol at his head, her finger poised on the trigger.
“Does it really matter?” Miho asked. “I’m going to kill you anyway. Good bye, old man.”
Miho enjoyed the whole experience. It was even better than she imagined. The squeezing of the trigger. The recoil as the heavy gun fired. The cartridge ejecting and falling on the floor. The impact of the bullet with Kazuo’s head. The sight of his blood and brains all over the bed. Then she pulled the trigger again and experienced it all over again. When it was over, she was satisfied seeing what was left of his head, his dead eyes staring at nothing.

Miho lay the pistol on the vanity and gathered her clothes. As she dressed, she thought about what she had just done, and it pleased her.
I actually killed a yakuza. I faced the most dangerous type of man possible and killed him with his own fucking gun. Such an awesome feeling, she thought, having the power of life and death over another. All she did was pull the trigger twice and he was history.
Miho picked up the pistol and caught the vision of herself in the mirror. She paused to study her reflection and smiled. Miho liked the sight of that strong, beautiful, dangerous woman holding that big black pistol.
She finally shoved the gun in the belt of her dress. It felt very comfortable there. Miho went to the living room to collect her purse. She stowed the pistol, her cigarette case, and lighter inside. Then she headed for the front door.

There would be no stopping her now.