by Nick Hurst
I scrambled to my feet but almost fell straight away as my right side screamed out in pain. Ahead, Knifeman leapt out of the car and started running towards me as the Beast handbrake-turned into the opposite lane. The sight proved an excellent anaesthetic.
I bolted through cars backing up at lights on the other side of the road. I was running blindly towards a station, which in Tokyo can only ever be minutes away. If Knifeman was like the other men of his generation, he likely smoked as though in fear of a tobacco drought. And I had terror on my side. I was running from the grim reaper and even if Usain Bolt was under the robes there was no way I was going to be caught.
I saw Yotsuya Station ahead. My mind raced through a mental train map. I could get on the Sobu Line, change to the Yamanote at Shinjuku, and be back at Takadanobaba in a trice. I bounded down the taxi ramp to the entrance, piled through the ticket barriers, and shoved my way down the stairs and onto a train just as it was about to depart.
I sat and my heart started to pound with a little less violence, giving me a chance to think. In the traffic, they’d take thirty minutes at least. I could be back at my flat in fifteen, grab my passport and bag, and be in a taxi heading towards a nice, safe airport hotel in twenty minutes’ flat. Then all I had to do was keep myself shut away, get the room service going and I’d be on my flight this time the next day. My breathing eased. I was on the home straight.
My own situation resolved, my mind went to Tomoe. It felt like Knifeman had plunged his weapon of choice into my heart. But I’d done everything I could, more than I thought possible. You only had to look at me to know I’d given my all. I’d go to the Foreign Office as soon as I was back, the Japanese Embassy, wherever I could go to bring the situation to the eyes of authorities who cared. Who knew, doing it from England might take the situation beyond the yakuza’s reach and give her a better chance. I just had to get through the next twenty minutes. Be calm but fast.
I darted out of Takadanobaba station into Sakae Dōri, then turned quickly off it to the right. I went over the bridge, down an alley and in a couple of minutes was back at my flat. I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes. Bang on plan.
I took the stairs three at a time, turned right at the top of the stairwell and soon had my key in the door. I was in. More importantly, a minute’s turnaround and I’d be out. Four more and I’d be in one of the cabs at the station and on my way. On my way to safety and normality again.
A massive hand grabbed my throat. It lifted me a foot in the air and slammed me against the wall.
‘Why the fuck didn’t you do as you were told?’
FIFTEEN
Kurotaki was singing along cheerily to Eloise as he drove, the whole thing surreal even before he broke up an octave for the chorus. I was slumped in the back seat, my head propped up by the window. My aches and pains were crying out for attention but I wasn’t responding. And I wasn’t thinking of ways to escape.
I’d run out of bright ideas. I’d pushed myself to my limit and failed. I was now resigned to my fate.
Takata looked up as I entered his office and ushered me to my seat.
‘I thought we agreed you were going home.’
‘We did,’ I answered, too drained for an apology. ‘I’ve got my ticket. I was ready to go.’
‘But you didn’t. You went looking for your girlfriend instead.’
‘I found something with her work address on it. I couldn’t help it; I had to try.’
‘And what did you find out?’
I wondered what his point was. I couldn’t see why he would want me to tell him what he must already know.
‘Not very much. I know they were involved in Tomoe’s disappearance but that’s about it.’
‘And what were they so keen to get from you?’
‘They wanted documents they think Tomoe left behind.’
‘And what documents are these?’
He was looking at me keenly. I knew the answer would decide my fate but I could think of nothing to tell him but the truth.
‘There are no documents. I had to pretend I had something so they’d let me in. Documents were the first thing that came to my mind.’ I rubbed my eyes. I was exhausted. My mind and body had had enough. ‘I don’t have anything.’
He turned and stared into space. I wondered what would happen next. Probably a call out to his underlings so they could come in, take me and do whatever they were going to do. At any other time, I would have been terrified and it would be wrong to say I wasn’t scared. But it felt as though the sensors in my brain had been disconnected and I was looking in on someone else’s fear.
‘You had an opportunity to get out,’ he said. ‘There was no need for you to be involved. I gave you that chance.’
‘You did.’
‘But you didn’t take it. You dived in and unfortunately for you that changed things. There’s no longer an escape. You’re either going to sink or swim.’
I had no idea what he was talking about.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I know I wasn’t supposed to do anything but I didn’t think there would be any harm in going to her office. I didn’t find out anything and there’s nothing anyone can find out from me.’
I felt a flash of pain from where Knifeman had hit me and put my hand to my cheek.
‘I still have my plane ticket for tomorrow. If you don’t want me around it would be easier to let me use it than do anything else.’
As pleas for one’s life go it wasn’t exactly impassioned, but in the circumstances it wasn’t such a bad attempt. But Takata just looked at me, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
‘You think we’re planning to kill you?’
‘Aren’t you? Isn’t that what this is about?’
‘No, it isn’t,’ he said. ‘You’re not here to die.’
My brain slowly absorbed his words, my joy at them as detached as my earlier fear.
‘You’re here to join us. You’re going to become a yakuza.’
When I’d been at the office the week before, I feared being killed but had been hopeful of coming away with my life. I’d left the building in a short-term state of euphoria, a feeling unlike any I’d experienced before. This time I’d been certain of death. The release from its jaws left me bewildered. This twist confused me even more.
‘Now of course you’ll play a different role to someone like Kurotaki – you don’t have quite the same skills. But that’s not something to worry about. Kurotaki and his like are the visible face of what we do and, aside from the fact that we need men of that ilk, that’s no bad thing. They reassure the public and help maintain the impression of gamblers and peddlers; rough men who ultimately live by an honourable code.
‘But as we discussed, we need to be able to move in the circles where real power is exercised. For that we need specialists. In this case, it means people like you.’
If he was hoping to clarify the situation, he failed.
‘English teachers?’
‘No, not English teachers. We’ll talk about the details another time. Right now, you need to rest. You thought you were going to die and now you know you’re going to live. It’s something I’ve experienced and it’s not to be taken lightly. You need some space to yourself.’
I did feel light-headed. But while time on my own sounded welcome, I was confident I still wouldn’t want to be a yakuza when it was up.
‘Thank you for your understanding – I do feel a little drained.’
I paused to consider how to continue but I wasn’t capable of gauging nuance at that point so I dived straight in.
‘Of course, it’s nothing against your organisation, but what would happen if I thought I wasn’t entirely well suited to being a yakuza? I’m not sure I have any skills that can help.’
‘It wouldn’t really matter because I’m telling you that you do. You know I said you had the chance to sink or swim? Well, this is the swim. Don’t choose to sink – it would be an unnecessary waste.’
He said it in the same even tone he always spoke in, but the implication was clear, even in my state.
‘You need to stop overthinking. Accept where your actions have brought you and make the most of it. There’s no need to look so concerned. We’re a diverse, dynamic organisation – you’ll find us far less one-dimensional than perhaps you expect.
‘So perhaps you weren’t anticipating your career path would lead you this way. You’re not alone – there are plenty of others who needed a little encouragement at first. But if you approach it with an open mind and give it your all, you’ll have an interesting and rewarding career. I mean, this teaching thing, you can’t do it for ever.’
Career advice upon being forcibly enrolled in the yakuza. It anything marked the death knell of normality, it was surely this.
‘But I’m a gaijin.’
‘You have no argument from me on that.’
‘Don’t I have to be Japanese?’
‘Not at all – we’re the equal opportunities employer of Japan. We take in Koreans, Chinese, the burakumin underclass; we’ve even got a scattering of westerners too.’
He backtracked a little.
‘They tend to be associates rather than full members though, so you could find yourself in the minority on that front. But quite frankly, it doesn’t matter. This is my organisation and I decide who joins.’
The stimulus being thrown its way was slowly bringing my brain back to life. Unfortunately, its functioning was unpredictable as it worked its way up the gears.
‘But you killed my girlfriend’s father and abducted her.’
His face clouded. ‘I thought I told you that wasn’t us?’
‘But your men turned up at Tomoe’s work the minute they were called.’
‘Those men weren’t Takata-gumi.’
‘What do you mean? Who were they?’
‘Clarence-san,’ I wasn’t sure where he’d found out my surname but I suppose it wasn’t surprising considering they’d discovered my address. ‘You haven’t just been trampling over my territory; you’ve been making yourself an irritant to other people as well. You announced yourself with a bang. You’ve shaken things up.’
‘But, but who, wh-what have I done?’
‘The company your girlfriend worked for isn’t in my portfolio – other parties have an interest in them. The reason you’re here now, probably the reason you’re still in one piece, is because I have a network that provides us with information on occasion, as it did in this case. We’ve been keeping an eye on you. Once we knew you’d escaped, we assumed you’d head back to your flat. As that is in my territory, we were able to get there first.’
I’d gone from being a nobody teacher no one knew, to a prospective yakuza with God knows how many gangsters after my life.
‘But what’s to stop them hurting me now?’ My voice quivered. I couldn’t face a Groundhog Day version of the last week. ‘I’m not a gangster. I can’t live like this.’
‘Well, strictly speaking you will be a gangster soon,’ said Takata. ‘And actually, that’s what’s going to stop them. Anyone who comes after a Takata-gumi member faces repercussions.’
He gave a phlegmatic shrug.
‘Although if they can get you without it being obvious they’ll probably try.’
If he was attempting to reassure me he wasn’t going about it in the best way.
‘Fortunately, we operate a buddy system for our new joiners so you’ll have the protection of a Takata-gumi member as well as its name.’
A gangster bodyguard. That did make me feel better.
‘Anyway, I think that’s all for now. Under the circumstances, I think it will be better to bring you on board sooner rather than later so we’ll do the ceremony in the next couple of days. The boys will take care of you now.’
I was at the door before I realised I had one last question.
‘Who’s my buddy?’
SIXTEEN
‘You know about honne and tatamae?’
‘Yes, I do.’
He ignored me.
‘We,’ he began, using the word exclusively to separate Japanese from gaijin like me, ‘we use honne to describe true feelings that we keep to ourselves – for example, if we hate the fact an arsehole is going to join an organisation we love. But we use tatamae as a front to the world, where we can pretend this person doesn’t disgust us and everything’s OK. And if we get drunk and tell the little faggot what a cocksucker he is, we can use it again the next day to pretend that we didn’t.’
It was a different explanation to the one my Japanese teacher had given me. I smiled weakly and hoped he didn’t get bored and decide to crush my skull to fill the time.
I was sat in a karaoke booth with Kurotaki who, it had turned out, was my ‘buddy’, although it seemed safe to assume this was only in a tatamae sense. I had tried to probe the wisdom of the pairing as gently as I could with Takata.
‘You don’t have to like him, and I’m afraid I have my doubts he’s going to like you. But if you want to stay alive, he’s the best man to keep you that way.’
It had been a culturally enlightening day. It’s probably safe to say that very few Westerners have witnessed a yakuza joining ceremony and far fewer been part of one. The day had started with an early morning summons to the office by Kurotaki.
‘Make sure you’re dressed up nice.’
‘I will do.’
‘And make sure you do exactly as I told you.’
‘I will.’
‘You refer to him as Kumichō – boss – in the ceremony and whenever you speak to him, but you might hear him referred to as Oyabun – it’s like father of the group – as well.’
‘Understood. I promise, you don’t need to worry. I’ll do everything just the way you said.’
Kurotaki’s face contorted, making him even uglier.
‘Don’t tell me what I do or don’t need to worry about, you gaijin prick,’ he exploded. ‘I’ve been stuck with you, the most useless motherfucker ever, and from now on anything you do comes back to me. That means if you fuck up, it’s like I’ve fucked up, and seeing as you’re a useless fuck the chances of that are high. So I am going to worry and if I’m worried you should be too. That way you might fuck up less.’
I wasn’t just worried I was terrified, even more so for what he’d just said. I didn’t see how it was going to help.
‘You do what I tell you when I tell you and show me respect. I might have to keep you alive but don’t think I won’t give you a beating.’
Life as a gangster. From what I remembered of Goodfellas, Henry Hill had joined the mafia for power and respect. I couldn’t help thinking I’d been forced into the wrong mob.
‘Why are we doing it at Kumichō’s house? And why’s he leading things? It’s all wrong,’ Kurotaki fretted to himself. He turned to me. ‘You know it’s never like this?’
‘No, I don’t. I’ve never done anything like it before.’
‘Shut up. A new yakuza doesn’t do the ceremony with Kumichō – they do it with the boss of a subgroup. And it doesn’t happen at Kumichō’s place.’
The whole thing was clearly unsettling him. It seemed a consolation of sorts to release his misgivings on me.
‘Listen, you know-nothing prick, Kumichō is the boss of everything, he heads up the whole organisation – thousands of people. Nobodies like you, they don’t talk to him. You’d need to move way up the ranks before you even get the chance to see him in the flesh. For someone at your level, speaking to him is like a cockroach getting an audience with God.’
I was getting the picture. I should be even more nervous and uncomfortable than I already was.
‘Why he wants some dickhead gaijin …’ he said, scanning me with a disgusted look. ‘The shit we’re going to get from the other gangs. You know they’re already calling us the gaijin-gumi? And for what? What are you going to bring?’
He snorted in contempt.
‘He must know what he’s doing, there must be s
omething he’s got worked out for all of this.’
He looked me up and down again and sneered.
‘But the shit we’re going to take. Look at you. You’re a fucking disgrace.’
I had no idea how to respond to this torrent of abuse from someone who scared me so completely. I stayed as I was.
‘What the fuck are you standing around for? I told you how important this is. Get your shit together. Go on, fuck off.’
If I had to describe the polar opposite of Kurotaki it would have been someone like Takata’s wife.
‘Look at him,’ she said, coming to greet me in the wood-lined entrance of their beautiful home. ‘So handsome – like a Hollywood star.’
It was impossible not to warm to her. I thanked her as graciously as I could.
‘What wonderful Japanese too.’
She turned to Takata.
‘With gaikokujin like Clarence-san around, why have you only chosen to employ one now?’
Fussing over me, and I imagined quite contrary to decorum, she led me through the house and into a room with a long table laid for a meal. Cushions were set around it on the tatami floor, one for each guest. Just beyond its head sat a small shrine generously endowed with whole fish, vegetables and rice. Alongside them was a sake decanter and two unglazed cups.
‘You sit here, ne,’ she said, directing me to a spot near the top. ‘You can get a view of the garden, for all its faults.’
Despite the invitation, I couldn’t help thinking her dismissal of etiquette was a privilege accorded only to her. Instead of acting on it I waited for Takata and the other attendees to file in. I was given an almost imperceptible nod by Kurotaki in return.
Takata sat and waved everyone down, a collection of dark-suited, crew-cut, mean-looking men. And me: completely out of place and totally out of my depth.
There was no need to clink a glass. When Takata shifted the gruff murmurs immediately died down.
‘I want to thank you all for coming at such short notice,’ he began. ‘I know it has been an inconvenience for some of you and I want you to know your efforts are greatly appreciated.’
