Neverending Tempest - Part 1

The Yakuza Way

TW: 18+ | Slight Descriptions of Violence | Mature Language

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An ode to the Queen of nightmares:

For all who dream of worlds beyond a word of caution, I issue:

there is one who is already watching you

waiting for you to reach out

If you get her attention

There is nothing she will not show you

For a small price

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PT 391, Present, Dimension ???

Scratches, bruises, gashes. I pushed a man to the ground with my dress shoe. Using his face as a stepping stone to keep it from getting in the mud. He lays in front of me as I count up the money I roughed him up for. He’s crying for more time through his broken teeth. I take the money he owes, along with a little tip for wasting my time. The rest of his money I spread all across the mud, and I drop his wallet while walking away. The red streets of Kabukicho light up as I exit the alleyway. To my right is the main street, the street is stuffy with massive crowds, swindlers and pawners offering bullshit deals every second, lifestones that will bring you good luck, or men with dice ready to challenge unsuspecting citizens to a rigged game, the tourists always fall for these. To my left is a black car situated on the side of the road with entirely tinted windows. Asking to be inspected if they weren’t paying off the cops. I slipped over to the cracked car window and slid the bag of money to the loan shark on the other side. He rolled his window all the way down, and looked me up and down through his sunglasses.

“Nice job, kid. Here’s a tip.” He said as he slid me some money. “Next time I’ll hafta call Mr. Kubota to make a special order for ya.”

“Thank you, sir.” I bowed to him as he drove away.

I stalked through the streets of Kabukicho. Many of the Japanese here always seem to stare at me with a confused look. I am one of the only Americans who walk around here. Most Japanese seem to see it as an invasion of their promised land. When I walk around the streets with my head held high, ready to take any shit anyone throws my way, they probably hate that even more. The yakuza love me, though. My height is my greatest asset in a fight. Even if someone throws the first punch, they have to reach me first. I had a great sensei train me in martial arts in a secret temple in the underbelly of the criminal underground. I think it’s been almost five years since he left and I was scouted by some yakuza. It’s a dangerous, but sweet gig. Doing anything else, I don’t know if I’d have enough money to cover basic essentials and health expenses. Speaking of…

I come up to a large hospital in the middle of the district. The nurse quickly admits me, recognizing me immediately. When I am let into a room, there’s a girl laying in a hospital bed in the center of the room. It’s my sister, Emi.

“Hey bro, how was work? Did you make any sales today?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Of course I wasn’t going to tell my sister that I was a yakuza. She’d be worried sick and her health would probably get even worse. She has some sort of unknown cancer. While Japan does pay for some health bills. Citizens still have to pay out. Especially for research regarding her disease in question. A doctor came in to check on Emi.

“How are you feeling, Emi?”

“I feel tired. I’ve been waiting for my brother all day!”

“Anything else, don’t be afraid to tell me with your brother here.”

“No, I’m just tired.”

“Do you want something to eat before bed?”

“No.”

Emi’s been like this for probably about a year or so now. In the 1990s, information about the disease and how to cure it are limited at best. So where does my money go? If I have anything left over, I try and donate it to places that are doing research.

“Come on, Emi! Try and eat something before bed. Your tummy will thank you in the morning.” I say half-excitedly.

Emi drank some apple juice and ate a little bit until she got tired and fell asleep. As the doctor walked away, I slid him an envelope with this month’s payment. He gave me a bow and a “thank you good sir” and strutted out of the room. For me, it was back to work. I was flat broke, again.

I am a lowly yakuza just trying to scrape money off the bottom of the barrel. Suffice to say, this setup is not working for me. I won’t be able to do enough for Emi, nevermind live on my own. I walked out of the hospital and towards my favorite bar, The Tempest. It’s a pretty small bar, only popular with the “in-crowd” in Kabukicho. By day it is lively, by night it calms down because many go to bigger, grander clubs or cabarets to burn the midnight oil. I stepped into the bar, there was only one person at the bar, wearing a black suit and blue tie. He has shoulder-length hair, and a slim build, he’s a mix of american and asian. That’s Daisuke Junichiro. We’ve risen in rank side by side in the Kubota family. He’s like a brother to me. We are like two friendly rivals, if one of us grows, the other is not far behind. The tattoos on our back tell a story of a rivalry in ancient Japanese times. Daisuke has a tattoo of Miuranosuke on his back, while I have a tattoo of Kazusanosuke on mine. It represents the great battle, where Miuranosuke and Kazusanosuke worked together to defeat the nine-tailed fox, Tamamo no Mae.

I looked in the mirror at the bar, finally seeing myself after a long day. I have long curly hair and a black jacket and undershirt. With a red tie. Along with steel-toe dress shoes. My build is more “husky” compared to Daisuke’s slimmer features. I sat down next to him, he already had a drink sitting for me.

“Hey buddy. How’s your day been?” I asked as I sat down.

“You wouldn’t believe it, pretty damn boring. I’ve had to follow around Kubota all day.”

“You aren’t supposed to use the big man’s name in vein.” I replied.

Kubota is the leader of our family. He’s a lieutenant of the Hironaka clan. The clan that governs over all the other families. I would say Kubota is the lieutenant who has his head on the straightest. He does what he’s asked. I guess he’s always come off to me as a pragmatic guy. He does what he’s told, and gets it done with terrifying accuracy.

“It’s been meeting, after meeting, after meeting.” Daisuke complained. “I just want to do some hits and go along with my day.”

“Is Hironaka planning something big?”

“Yeah. It’s some heist. There’s big bucks for anyone who decides to get wrapped up.”

“Shit, where do I sign up?”

If it meant I’d be financially secure for Emi, I’d do it!

“You really want to do some crazy shit like that? The job’s a big one, most of Kubota’s guys don’t even volunteer for his heists! You could be signing your death warrant!”

“You know my sister ain’t getting any better. I have to do something to make sure we can make it through the next few months. If it’s enough, it could mean security for the next few years! I’m goin, whether you want to or not, bro.”

“We’re sworn brothers. You know Kubota will probably put me on if you take the job.”

“I’ll protect you. No matter what. If we both go in, we are coming out alive. Maybe I’ll share some of the dough.”

I stood up out of my chair, knowing my day wasn’t over yet, I had to talk to Kubota.

“Don’t go off the deep end, bro.” Daisuke told me as I slinked out the door.

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I stepped into Kubota-san’s office, he turned around in his chair, blowing smoke from his cigarette into the air. His entire office smelt of smoke. He looks like an older japanese man with a small, slim build. With short gray hair and stubble. With a slick dark red suit and jacket, with a matching tie. The suit made him look bigger than he really was. Otherwise, he looked like a fairly unassuming, normal japanese man. I think that was what made him threatening.

“Good afternoon, Kubota-san.”

“Oh, my favorite juice-man, Enzo-chan. That was a nice job you did tonight. What can I do for ya?” He said as he put out his cigarette and took out another.

I came over and dropped to one knee and searched for my lighter. Once Kubota realized I didn’t have one, he took one from his pocket and handed it to me. I fired it up and lit his cigarette for him.

“Keep that one, always have a lighter on you, junior.”

“I came here to ask about a heist in talks with the Hironaka clan.”

“Ah, Daisuke-chan told you, I assume.”

“Yeah. Is there anything I can do to get involved?”

“Let’s not beat around the bush. You want a piece of the pie? Huh?”

I let out a sigh. “Yeah.”

“I understand, kid. It’s for your sister, right? I’m a nice guy, so I’ll grant your wish. Been a long time since anyone volunteered to be on one of my heists. But you’re just a lackey. You’ll be outta place. Looks like I’ll have to get some others involved.”

“Like who, Kubota-san?”

“You’ll see. Better shake that asking questions habit, and train up a little bit. I know you’re more than capable, but you’d better be on your A-game.”

“Of course.” I bowed. “Thank you, sir.”

I went to bed thinking positively about the heist that was going to go down soon. I didn’t care about what was going to happen. I knew I’d pull through, I had to. If Daisuke went with me, I’d protect him too. I might be a lackey, but I’ve been trained since I was a child. Nobody would step in my way, as long as I stay in the game.