A gesture of good faith (Bitsevsky Park)

[Sofia Vasilieva]

She felt nothing towards the stranger at all. He might as well have been faceless. But pride and anger burned deep, and the debt had to be paid somehow. Frankly Sofia considered it a downpayment for the offence. But she’d promised Pavel her temperance; had promised not to act unless things turned sour. She kept her word despite the sudden sobriety of her expression, and the grave temptation of how she wanted to act. How she thought they should act.

A brother for a brother met some arbitrary idea of honour, but it didn’t satisfy true vengeance. Not the way she knew Pavel would handle it.

“You already know what I think, brother.”

Her attention remained on the Japanese man as she spoke. Her stare was direct. Despite the cut-granite of his face, he looked nervous, and she wondered if he was afraid. He ought to be. She didn’t blink as she pressed two fingers under her chin; mimed the pull of a gun.

No one in the Custody would care what happened to a lone Yakuza who never should have set foot in their city in the first place. Let Haruto feel the full sting of what he tried to take from them, when his own brother was ripped away from this mortal coil.

Pavel did not look remotely impressed by the theatrics. A muscle flexed in his jaw as he considered their position. Sofia slipped her hands in her pockets and leaned against the bridge rail to wait for what she already knew was coming. The balance of scales would be cold, as it always was with Pasha. Yet as she watched on in expectation, she considered how Zixin openly declared to have what he knew they wanted, and kept it from them, for all his flashy gesture of alliance. It meant the matter would hardly be behind them; not so far as she was concerned, but there were other ways to get what she wanted. And Sofia was good at getting what she wanted.

This was enough for now.

Pavel nodded at Zixin; held his eye; shook the hand offered.

He turned to Kiyohito. There was blankness in him now.

“Do you understand what your brother attempted? And on whom it was attempted?” He did not speak in the manner of a threat, and nor did he sound as angry as Sofia knew he was beneath the stoicism. His voice was level, soft even, and it reminded her of their father. Power wielded with quiet finesse. Patient and enduring and inescapable. Yet for all her admiration, Sofia tuned out the exchange of kind in kind and only watched the Japanese man’s reactions. For though Pavel meant to bring honour to the proceedings, it only escalated the tense waiting. They all knew what was coming. That was what she was watching; not in relish, just in grim satisfaction.

Retribution for Alina’s pale-faced fear when Pavel had called. For that flash of a second when her sister had expected the worst.

Kiyohito would be a bloody message. He would understand the family Haruto had crossed. And he would know not to let his brother make the same mistake again. For that was the burden of being a brother. And of course Pavel imagined everyone saw the duty the same way.

"There are rules of engagement. This is my shame too. So I will right it."

It was the only thing she heard the Japanese man say in response, though clearly he listened.

Sofia did not look away from the violence when it started.