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insignia on his chest. Two men. They are using strange words and fumbling with bandages and other items, difficult to make out.
    "Ryokai-san . . ."
    The voice is soft, almost tender, and yet so clear it might be coming from beside his ear. He tries to turn his head to look, but the pain in the side of his head now throbs down his neck into his shoulder. He feels himself wincing.
    A gentle hand brushes hair out of his eyes, and then he sees her, leaning near. Her expression seems almost furious with concern. "Why did you not seek treatment?" asks Machiko. She looks toward the side of his head. "This is no scratch. You are still bleeding."
    "Something tore the scalp," says the medic.
    It is very embarrassing. Shameful. To be lying here so foolish and weak, while she, Machiko, gazes at him so sternly. How could he have allowed this to happen? He strives to sit up, to lift his head from the ground, but suddenly Machiko's hands are at his shoulders, and other hands too, and it is like the whole weight of the earth is pressing him back. His head throbs viciously. For a moment, he can see only blackness.
    "Be still," Machiko is saying. "You must be treated. Ryokai, you are drenched in blood!"
    It is not important. He had to come here to the estate, first for the Chairman, then for her. He must do his duty for the clan and for Machiko-san. He must prove himself an ally against Gongoro's venom. He must be strong, stronger than he feels, perhaps stronger than he has ever been. Perhaps Machiko does not know it, but she needs him. Now more than ever.
    She leans so near he can smell the faint scent of sandalwood in her hair. "You are going to hospital," she says. "Do you hear me?"
    Ryokai feels his cheeks grow warm. The shame is almost too much. Perhaps this gives him the strength to say, "Beware Gongoro."
    Machiko questions him with her eyes.
    "He wants control of the Guard. Do not let him bait you."
    Faintly, Machiko nods. "Be still."
    The words caress his ears like tender down.

8
    The night grows very long indeed.
    Machiko searches the deep shadows of the hillsides with her eyes. She listens. This is her duty. To keep spirit settled and a broad gaze upon the night. She has known many such nights. The waiting is not difficult if one regards one's own body as already dead. Tonight, though, her thoughts constantly stray.
    Within the hour, the leadership of the clan begins arriving. Some could be described as shatei , like "younger brothers" to the Chairman. Others would be best considered like wakashira - hosa , members of the board of directors. Some represent the clan, the Honjowara- gumi ; others represent Nagato Corporation. All are part of the Nagato Combine. They are escorted up the slope of the driveway by Major Hakatoro, greeted before the entrance by Machiko, and accorded every degree of respect their status demands. In light of the current emergency, all must be scanned for weapons before being admitted to the Chairman's home, but this is expected. Duty demands this be done and none offer objections. No weapons are found. The leaders of the Honjowara-gumi do not generally carry weapons, except on certain occasions, for this would be dishonorable, a serious breach of conduct, and wholly at odds with the Chairman's New Way.
    A hundred years ago, at the heart of Tokyo's Ginza District, the Honjowara-gumi was controlled by violent gangsters. The clan battled the Ginza Tiger and others for control of gambling, restaurants and bars, narcotics, and a multitude of illegal enterprises, till, at times, the streets ran with blood. Little changed when the clan made its move to North America. The criminal bosses remained in control till the end of the millennium.
    Then came Nagato Kurobuchi.
    He came to power as the protector of Honjowara Okido, who was then a child, and his mother, recently widowed by the very violence that had haunted the clan since its earliest beginnings. He shamed the gangsters for violating basic tenets of the clan,