Chapter 8: Tragedy
March, year 20XX, city of Sapporo, Hokkaido prefecture, Japan.
Summer break was almost over; students were going back to school next week. Some were excited, some were feeling dreadful.
Eizan Ito was indifferent.
He lived in his simple 2 story household with his mother Mina, his father Eiichiro, and his little sister Miyu.
They never struggled with money. His parents worked decent paying jobs and his uncle from his father's side was a world famous mangaka who was always more than happy to help if needed.
His grades were fine, top level at best, average at worst. His prospects for a future career were good. He could get any job he wanted, he just had to choose. He could be an artist, he seemed to have inherited his uncle's artistic lenience after all. Eizan could write, draw, sing, sculpt, play, act, and anything else you could imagine.
He had a preference towards acting and playing music.
He was of an average build, standard black and short hair and no particularly special features to speak of.
He was somewhat popular. He wasn't exactly a player, but he was decent looking enough that some girls agreed to go out with him sometimes. It never went anywhere, but he never intended it to anyway. He rarely intended to do anything besides the necessary.
He usually just woke up, had breakfast, went to school, came back home, had dinner, did his homework, and went back to sleep.
Eizan Ito was a standard Japanese teenager.
…
A perfectly normal Japanese teenager
…
A very good actor indeed
…
…
At some point, acting gets painful.
…
Eizan was walking home that day. For some strange reason, it was snowing. Hokkaido was one of the few places in Japan where snow fell like this. He wasn't ready for it, so he was freezing in the bleak snow…
The beautiful snow.
Eizan loved the snow. He always thought no other sight was more breathtaking that one of a mountain range covered in snow. But it was also a deadly sight, who knows how many corpses laid in those mountains right now.
In the middle of the blizzard, he found an open building and went inside to cover himself. He was going to call his mom to tell her where he was, until he saw where he was.
He regretted coming in.
He shouldn't have come in.
But he was in now, and now that he was inside this place, he wouldn't leave. He didn't want to leave.
It was a traditional Edo-style bar that only opened late at night.
Had he really been out that long?
He saw the stage, and saw what he knew he couldn't look away from. The reason he tried to stay away from this place.
Back in the old days of the Edo period, there used to be certain women called "Geisha", women of unbelievable beauty and elegance that performed on stage to the delight of the high society. They were praised, renowned, even revered for their beauty alone, and their artistic talents were coveted by any and all who could pay the exorbitant expense of their performance. Essentially, they were the Idols of old japan.
Times change, people do not.
This being a bar emulating that era, there was a beautiful woman on stage dressed as an opulent Geisha, performing a traditional Japanese song with a shamisen, of course.
Eizan stayed there for who knows how many hours. His mother called a couple of times, he only said he was waiting for the snow to die down. It eventually did.
He made his way back home, the image of the Geisha still roaming his mind.
He had dinner, the image of the Geisha still stuck in his mind.
He went to sleep, he dreamed of the Geisha.
…
At what point do you just stop acting?
When do you stop pretending, and step off the stage into your real life?
…
When Eizan woke up, he decided that day was today.
It had to be.
Any longer was no longer an option, it just wasn't.
He went to his drawer and picked up what he had hidden in there for months now. He bought it out of impulse, but he needed it now.
He went downstairs to tell his family to wait for him, for he had something very important to say.
He saw some small hints of dread coming from his father's eyes. Maybe he somehow knew already? Maybe it would be easier that way.
He went back up and got ready. He put on what he had hidden in his closet. This one was not on impulse. This one was for today, even if he didn't quite know when today would be.
They were all gathered. And they heard the footsteps coming and stopping at the door.
The shadow behind it kneeled in front, and opened the door.
Silence.
Eiichiro Ito was staring at his son…
At his daughter, rather.
Dressed in a simple and cheap, yet beautiful kimono.
Her hair tied in an elaborate style that could not have been done by an amateur.
Her face decorated with subtle yet beautiful makeup that not even his wife could have pulled off.
Eiichiro had no idea what to say, what to think even. Mina Ito didn't either.
The first one to say anything was Miyu:
"WOW! You look so pretty!"
Miyu, bless her innocent soul, she was just 6 at this point, and her words helped her sister calm down a bit.
"Thank you!"
"Sooo, do I have an older sister now?"
The eldest of the Ito family turned her gaze at her father.
"….. yes."
Eiichiro still did not say anything.
After a while, it became clear. Even if he didn't say it, she knew what her father was thinking. Because she knew her father loved her more than anything in the world, but she also knew what was inevitably going to come up, one way or another.
"…. What are people going to say?"
She smiled. A melancholic and heartbroken smile, one born from the unspoken fear of her parents. An inevitable fear, in a way.
She got up calmly, and started to walk out the door. Her father tried to extend his hand to say something, to stop her. To stop her from leaving, because he knew that if she walked out of that door right now, she would never come back. "Please, wait! Don't go! We can live like this! You can be yourself! I understand! I love you!" He wanted to say it so badly…
But he hesitated.
And she was gone now…
…
…
It was cold. So cold.
A lone maiden in a thin kimono was not going to have a good time in this freezing weather. Her tears were frozen as well. She had been crying for hours and hours. Sobbed for who knows how long.
She was alone.
So alone.
It's so cold.
She bumped into someone, who the hell would even be out this late anyway?
"HEY! WATCH WHERE THE FUCK YOU ARE WALKING!"
She turned around, a quick look at his tattoos on his arm told her this was a yakuza.
"… I'm sorry"
His gaze softened a bit.
"Uhhhh… sure… hey ummm… are you ok? You look messed the fuck up… that flimsy kimono is gon' make you freeze to death! You… wanna go warm up somewhere?..."
She was confused, and her face said so.
"What? What's the confused look for? I can't let a girl walking around all messed up like that! My old man would fuckin' kill me! Listen, you need help, Imma help you out. I ain't exactly a good guy, but I ain't about to leave you hangin' in 'ere, got it?"
"… I guess… I got nothing else anyway…"
She started to tear up again.
….
….
"And who the shit is this?"
The old man questioned his underling. He was close to 70 years old, bald, full of scars and wearing a luxurious white suit with black shirt and shirt.
And he commanded respect with his very presence.
This man was clearly the head of this Yakuza group. The "father" or "oyabun" as his "sons" or "kyobun" would call him.
His name was Sotsui Hanamura, the most powerful Yakuza in the entirety of the Hokkaido prefecture.
"… Miyuki… sir…."
She reluctantly spoke the name she wanted for herself.
"Miyuki what? What's your family name?"
"… I …. Don't have one anymore"
She was about to cry again.
"What? What for? Did you get disowned or something?"
"In a sense, you could say that."
A melancholic smile made her way into her face, as her tears welled up again.
..Fuck it, what do I care. I have nothing left anyway. Living the lie was torture, telling the truth ended it all. There was no way out anyway.
If my life turns to a nightmare from this, there is nothing I can do about it.
And so, she told her whole story to these criminals.
As she kept talking, they listened.
She expected them to reject her as well…. But… they didn't say anything.
When she was finished, she noticed that Sotsui looked pissed.
"… hmmmmm … young lady."
She was shocked to hear him address her properly.
"…. Do you know how the yakuza came to be in Japan?"
"…. No.. not really…"
"Back during the Tokugawa period, two particular groups of people gathered in masses to create criminal groups in order to survive. Those groups are what gave birth to what we call today "Yakuza". The first of those groups were the "tekiya", who were wandering peddlers that sold whatever they could to survive. They were the lowest of the low in the social ladder, not even human to most people. The second group were the "Bakuto", gamblers and swindlers basically. They wore tattoos just like we do. What they had in common was that they were the rejects of Japan, the people that the higher classes and the government refused to acknowledge as people. In order to survive, they came together and engaged in organized crime… There is a saying: "times change; people do not". Today, the yakuza are still the same as before. The people that out country rejects and pushes away come to the underworld to survive. Immigrants, prisioners, gamblers, people whose minds are sick… "
"And people like you."
Miyuki had no words.
"But even today, as it was back then….. we still love our homeland… we still choose to remain here and serve the community that rejects us… to love a homeland that does not love you back…"
Yakuza are known to serve greatly to the community. They help out during festivals and even have many food and game stands people love and enjoy. They serve as security staff for many traditional, beloved, and even sacred locations. And they are the first responders to show up during disasters and crisis situations, even before firefighters and paramedics.
"That is the tragedy of the land of the rising sun…"
"…"
"….. young lady…."
"I am sure your father loves you with his very soul"
"Just like you love him"
Miyuki could not stop herself from crying her eyes out.
….
….
….
….
Miyuki Hanamura, the daughter of the Hanamura family went under the blade for the last time today.
All expenses paid for by her father of course.
The Sapporo general Hospital crew were nervous to see the hundreds of yakuza who were cheering and praying for the success of the young mistress' operation. Yelling so loud they could have torn up their vocal chords (some did actually).
They were silenced by their father:
"SILENCE YOU IDIOTS! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PRAYING FOR?! YOU THINK THIS WOULD BE TOO MUCH FOR HER?! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK SHE IS?!"
"SHE IS MY DAUGHTER! THIS COULD NEVER TAKE HER DOWN YOU MORONS!"
…
Sotsui Hanamura was praying harder than anyone else.