Yakuza Cleaner Novels & Stories

“Now.” She didn’t argue, nor did she act like the woman who once lied with such grace. She scrambled out of bed, grabbing her pants, sweater, anything to cover herself. My wolf stirred, alert. Something was wrong. I felt the place was too quiet, too still, like something was about to go wrong. And then— CRACK. The front window shattered and someone jumped in. I turned around as the Cleaner emerged from the darkness. He was tall, clad in all black attire, his eyes were dead behind the mask he wore.

What appeared to be another of their rank was dead, and they were unfeeling, unconcerned. They really were monsters, and I was trapped in a room with three of them. Nine quirked a brow. “You think it means something.” “A Cleaner sent to clean up another Cleaner? To erase any evidence of us?” The way he said Cleaner threw me off. It was spoken as if it was a title and not a housekeeping position. “That’s to be expected,” Nine said as he walked over to a cart that held a decanter. He pulled out the stopper and poured some of the amber liquid into a glass. “They don’t acknowledge our existence in any way.”

CAINE The meeting was held in a whorehouse owned by someone who belonged to the Yakuza. His name was Haruki Yamadera. I had never met the owner before but I knew the person who worked for him. A right hand man. I called him Zai. I walked in and went to the table designated for our meeting. Soon, Zai joined me in the opposite seat. He had dark hair, rings on both ears, and tattoos all over his face. He held a pack of cards which he always shuffled. Anyone who watched us would think we were about playing cards. But those card were actually his signature, and weapon. He once told me he had made them into blades, talking about their sharp edges I think.

So, whoever it is they were working for had played the game well. The cleaner reached into his jacket and handed over a thick manila envelope. In return, the other man passed him a smaller packet of cash, from the quick flash of green I caught. The exchange lasted less than thirty seconds. The stranger tucked the envelope under his arm, climbed onto a parked motorcycle, and roared off into the evening traffic. The cleaner turned to walk back the way he had come. I stepped out from the alley, blocking his path under the dimmed glow of a single streetlamp.

Miu frowned. “Well, you know my job.” I sighed, deciding to go with this story. To make it my fault, we are being hunted. I don’t want anyone to know Yūri was a Hatake, let alone the Kitsune. “Yea, you’re a cop. What about it?” Miu sighed. “Well, I recently initiated a raid on the yakuza clan resulting in even the boss getting taken in.” I sighed.

A pool of blood quickly forms beneath Romano’s head, and as I look down at his lifeless and swollen eyes, I finally feel a sense of relief. I hand the weapon to Big Ricky again as he asks, “Do you feel better?” “No, but it’s a start,” I mutter as I walk to the kitchen. I open a faucet and wash my hands, watching as the red water spirals down the drain. “Want me to call the cleaners?” I nod, my eyes still on my busted knuckles. “Yes. Have them dissolve the body and replace the floor.” I dry my hands on a dishcloth and turn to look at Big Ricky. “I want this fucking place cleaned from top to bottom for Vittoria.”

Sorry Ms" his voice came out nice. His dark glossy hair covered one of his eyes. His pink lips appeared succulent. The young male cleaner reached out for a shake. "Hi, I'm Matteo" he smiled with squinted eyes showing off his perfect white dentition. "Stacy" she introduced herself and walked away. "How can a good-looking guy become a cleaner" she wondered and let out a short shrug. Matteo adjusted his face cap and stared at his hand with Stacy's ID card as his lips formed a smug smile. He lifted his bucket and left with a mop.

Marina said, obviously teasing. She might be a stern lady, but her homorous side comes out like this whenever Niccolo is around. "Kaito Nakamura, he's in the country already with seven other members of his family." Massimo said, crushing all humour. Kaito is the Yakuza; boss of the Japanese mafia empire who succeeded in incorporating all his family members into his empire wings. "Nelson briefed us already. We only need the specifics since you've refused to send the mail" Niccolo said, drumming his finger pads on the desk.

He yelled at the cleaners, “Who arranged for you to come over for cleaning? Don’t you know it’s the vice chairman’s working hours now? Get out of here! All of you are fired. You don’t have to come again.” The secretary spoke quite ruthlessly, but none of the cleaners went out. While the secretary and Bernard felt puzzled, some footsteps were heard before a rough-looking cleaner walked in. As soon as he entered, he said, “Mr. Vedastus, I’m sorry for not informing you before coming to clean your office. Please forgive us.” Why did the voice sound so familiar? Bernard looked at the cleaner with the rough appearance. The cleaner took off his cap, raised his head, and stared Bernard in the eyes.

Andreas introduces me, and this is where they turn around. The Eastern scents now made sense to me; they’re Japanese. The older male steps forward; he looks perfectly polished in an expensive suit, but I can sense a danger about him even as he tries to hide his tattoos: the slicked-back salt and pepper hair, the scars on the side of his face and knuckles. This man is Yakuza; I can tell by the way he tries to shoulder the weapons strapped to him. “Fenriz Vega, it is a pleasure to meet you finally.” He says in perfect English with a faint Kanto accent and steps forward with his arm outstretched. “Kaen Tsukishima.”