Prologue- Death of a Yakuza

Heavy and pained were the sounds of breathing that flooded the dark alleyway like an orchestra of human misery. Hither came Kagetora, the Yakuza, black haired, now pale fading brown eyed, sallow of once pale complexion, bleeding wound in shaking hands, a delinquent, a mule, a thug, a young man who wanted it all yet received none, to feel the suffering he brought unto others in his final moments on bloodied concrete.

Two three four, four more shaky and desperate steps is all Kagetora could manage before what little remained of his adrenaline and bestial survival instincts gave way along with his legs. A dull thud and soulful pained groan followed as his battered and bloodied body collided with the cold concrete ground. The all consuming darkness of the isolated alleyway hiding the ever growing pool of blood spilling out from the stab wound deep in Kagetora’s side. With a series of gasping breaths and weak trembling arms Kagetora pushes himself off the ground; and only through the aid of gravity did he manage to prop his back against the rough concrete brick wall. Fruitlessly holding his bleeding wound as he sat against that wall, each breath was a labor unto itself- shallow, desperate, and wet with blood each one sounding the same. While his passion for life still burned deeply, but deep down Kagetora knew the spirits were calling and that this day in his nineteenth year of life would be his last on Earth. All he could do now was sit back and watch the life he squandered flash before his eyes and meditate upon it in what little peace this moment has to offer.

Light then began to trickle into his brain like water pouring out of showerhead as the first moments worth recalling illuminated inside his mind. It was his father, a rough hewn and broad shouldered man packed to the brim with muscle, his skin was tanned like leather hide from years of hard work on the docks, he knelt before him patting his lap with two rough and gnarled hands. “Come on Kagetora you can do it, show us that Yamaguchi family grit!” his father encouraged with a proud and wide grin on his sun cracked lips. Looking down Kagetora saw not his current broken and dying body, but the feeble body of an infant just learning how to walk. Supporting his body was his mother kneeling behind him with a look far more joyous than he ever remembered seeing the woman have in his living memory a wide smile plastered across a smooth pale and relaxed face. “Dont be afraid little Kagetora we believe in you~ I’m sure by your age your father was already wrestling bears.” His mother encouraged in turn as his father bellowed a booming hearty laugh, before with the gentlest of nudges Kagetora was sent forward scrambling to take steps not so unlike the bleeding footfalls he took not but a moment earlier. Much like earlier as well he only made it a four steps though instead of a bloodstained collision with the cold hard ground he was met with the warm and reassuring embrace of his fathers strong and supportive hands. “That's my boy!” His father exclaimed in a heightened jubilation before tossing him in the air and then catching him again a few times in quick succession. Behind him his mother cheers in turn between worried glances as her son is thrown repeatedly into the air.

The next memory to flood his mind would not be such a pleasant one, it would be a day of mild rain as the gray clouds of mourning blanketed the sky. All present in the cemetery would be dressed in black including his mother and himself, as they stood before the humble Yamaguchi family grave and a picture of Kagetora’s father before his urn. Kagetora turned to look at his mother bawling in a mad mournful hysteria, the lines of misery that would forever plague her once beautiful face beginning to form in these moments. Among the others attending the funeral were a menagerie of other rough and brawny dock workers stoically weeping in turn mixed in with bureaucratic office and legal types whose callous disinterest they never even bothered to hide. Kagetora would then overhear some of the more callous dock workers discussing in a hushed tone. “Real shame what happened to Yamaguchi.” Stated the first dock worker making idle small talk to the man next to him. “That crane accident is nothing compared to how they treated his widow.” Responded the second man covering his mouth to ensure both the grieving widow and the slew of executives present couldn't read his lips.”I heard, they ruled the accident something along the lines of an employee insubordination, between that and some cash they slipped to the judge the company got off scott free. His son and widow aren't gonna see a single yen I heard.” Responded in turn the first dock worker, both of whom felt remorse for the widow and child of their coworker, yet not enough for them or anyone else in the company to bother doing a thing to help either of them. As Kagetora stood there holding his mother’s hand as she wailed away her extreme sorrow at both the loss of her husband and the destitution they were sure to face, the young boy stood there confused-not truly grasping either situation that faced him. Though the young man looking back upon his memories was flooded with resentful anger at how his father’s employers and society in general abandoned him and his mother when they needed them both the most.

Reeling in anger from the previous memory Kagetora’s dying synapses would offer little time to dwell on the memory before another would invade his conscious mind. This memory would be the first his conscious mind could actually recall. It starts in a rat and roach infested apartment on the brink of being condemned, Kagetora and his mother were moving what little material possessions they had after weeks on the street. Once again Kagetaro’s mother has found enough work for them to scrape by enough to afford housing meager though it is. Though both hoped in spite of, yet deep down knew this would likely only be another temporary home; at least it was something for the winter which seemed extra cold this year. Time passed in the memory as if it were a recording set to fast forward, the unpacking, the attempted ramshackle repairs, the home schooling, the rare moments of quiet solidarity between a mother pushed to her limits and her young teenage son all of it passing like dust in the wind. The memory would slow back down on a fateful day soon after, as Kagetora was out on his usual hunt to collect recyclables for some much needed quick cash he would see a peculiar man: brawny, tan, and broad shouldered, yet well groomed and wearing a slick black suit. Upon seeing Kagetora he would lower his sunglasses and give a sharp whistle. “Kid, get over here I got some things I need to ask you about.” The man barked in a firm order with such conviction only the strong willed would outright refuse. Hesitantly Kagetora garbage sack in hand made his way over to the alleyway in which the sharp dress man was standing in. “Ya i’ve seen you before kid, and more than just around here in the past few weeks. Tell me your name.” The man once again ordered as if he was talking to a subordinate. “My n-name is Yamaguchi K-Kagetora.” responded Kagetora in weakly controlled subtle fear. The man’s face lights up in a crooked smile and with the wild eyes of a tiger pouncing on deer. “Well isn't it a small world after all. You probably don't remember me but I used to work with your dad on the docks.” The man states in sympathy before putting a strong firm hand on Kagetora’s shoulder. “We all felt awful about what happened to your dad and worse is what the company did to get out of paying you and your mom. A lot of us wanted to help but weren't exactly loaded with cash ourselves at the time. Better late than never though~” The man elaborated before handing Kagetora a small package wrapped in brown paper with an address and some cryptic symbols on it. “Deliver that package to the address written on it. Don't let anyone see you do it and there’s seven thousand yen in it for you.” Ordered the man once again as he put his sunglasses back on. “Seven thousand!? You got it.” excitedly shouted Kagetora before he ran off with the package. After a few minutes spent winding through the alleys the package was delivered to a small bar of no doubt ill repute before Kagetora found himself back in front of the sharp dressed man. “Not bad kid, not bad at all. ”Some of the men whom I was gonna originally pay to do it, I made stake out the alleys instead. They barely saw you, here's an extra 500 yen. Meet me again in this alley tomorrow for more work.” exclaimed the sharp dressed man before handing Kagetora the wad of cash from his suit pocket. “Ya sure, what's your name?” asked Kagetora as he ecstatically thumbed through the wad of cash. “For now just call me boss. Be here at six pm tomorrow sharp, don't be late and don't let anyone see you come here.” Ordered the boss before he turned and disappeared down the alleyway being enveloped by its darkness. Soon the memories would begin to fast forward again rushing through a series of odd jobs from deliveries to shake downs and everything in between.

The final memories that filled our dying protagonist’s mind would be very recent, the series of events that would lead to him bleeding out in an alleyway alone and far from home. In a small bar called the Kubi-jikken, he shouldn't have been drinking at nineteen but that didn't stop him from ordering or the elderly bartender from serving him a cheap beer while he waited for his boss. In walked his boss wearing the same slick black suit with the same bold and confident stride as always, in a few graceful steps he sat in the barstool flanking Kagetora’s. “Today's job is a big one, do well and you'll get to become a real kobun, tattoos and all. You’ll start making real money instead of my pocket change." exclaimed the boss as he hunched over the bar top. “So what's the job?” asked Kagetora before he finished his drink and set the glass on the bar top. “Something of a narcotics deal.” stated the boss before he took a sip of his whisky freshly handed to him by the elderly bartender. “You know I'm good for anything boss, I'll do it.” quickly responded Kagetora, his voice without hesitation but his mind filled with conflict and doubt at the prospect. “I knew you would take the job, meet me at the East end of the docks where your father used to work at midnight sharp.” The boss ordered before finishing his own drink and quickly handing a wad of cash to the elderly bartender for both of their drinks. As Kagetora’s mind begins to fail him the memory briefly fades to black before coming into focus again with the boss, two other associates, and himself in a secluded alleyway facing three other men. Chinese in ethnicity and dressed in suits not too dissimilar to their own, no doubt triad members in Japan to do business. The leader of the present triad members opens a suitcase revealing an obscene amount of narcotics inside. “Pure and uncut twenty kilograms, sell this fast and my overseers may see fit to do further business with you. Now you show us the money.” proclaimed the triad member, his voice void of any emotion whatsoever. “Afraid it’s not going to work like that this time.” the boss responded with a smirk before pulling out a thirty-eight special revolver from his suit pocket. “Now if you value your lives you’ll set down that briefcase and not dare tread into our territory again.” the boss finished before aiming the revolver’s sights down on the leader of the present triad members. The triad members' eyes all went wide at the unveiling of the firearm as they stuck their hands in the air. However that proved to be nothing but a distraction as two more triad members appeared from the darkness behind the yakuza members, knives in hand they lunged for both one of the name unknown yakuza associates and the other for Kagetora. Quick on his feet and experienced in a scrap, Kagetora deflected the armed lunging man into the nearby shipping container wall with a shifting of his weight and a rolling of his shoulders followed by a booming metallic clang that echoed down the alley. The name unknown associate was not so lucky and ended up with a knife in his neck before he could truly defend himself. The boss quickly turned on his heels and shot a round into the triad member's torso before he could pull his knife out of the Yakuza’s neck. The wall behind him was lightly sprinkled in blood before the other triad members lunged forward with their knives in hand. All hell truly broke loose at that moment as the cacophonous orchestra of the sounds of combat filled the night air as the desperate fight for survival started in that alleyway. More shots rang out as Kagetaro held his hands out in front of him in a defensive game of cat and mouse between himself and the triad man he had thrown into the wall a moment ago. The man lunged forward again, kicking off the wall for extra momentum; slashing wildly at Kagetora in his adrenaline and desperation. Quickly outstretching his hand forwards Kagetora grabbed the arm behind the hand in which the triad man was holding the knife and pulled it downwards, but not without getting a few spasmodic shallow cuts to his own arms. Then with his other hand he grabbed above the triad man’s elbow and with a pull of the upper hand and push of the lower hand Kagetora forced the triad man’s knife hand behind his back before bringing a rapid succession of hard fast knee strikes into the triad man’s face. Each knee strike was followed by a different loud pop and drizzle of blood as the triad man’s nose was broken and faced bashed under the relentless strikes. Soon the man lost consciousness as Kagetora threw him back against that same metal shipping container wall, his head creating a crescendo of metallic noise as it collided. Yet before Kagetora could celebrate his victory or even turn to help his fellow yakuza, a hand would quickly grab the collar of his shirt and jerk him off balance. Pulling him along before he could even react Kagetora would be met with a knife being plunged deep into his side, the cold steel mercilessly cutting apart his flesh and penetrating deep into his liver. Knowing full well it was a triad member who stabbed him, Kagetora looked back to see how had grabbed him and thrown him into this fate. Yet instead of another triad member grabbing him to make him an easy target he would see the boss behind him, hand on his collar. Without saying words the scenario was clear, the boss grabbed Kagetora and used him as human shield against a would be fatal blow. An ear shattering explosion emanated from the barrel of the revolver as a bullet ripped through the triad member’s skull. Then without a single word, consolatory glance, or any form of even basic acknowledgement or closure the boss dropped Kagetora to the cold hard ground and ran away with the remaining Yakuza associates along with the suitcase of narcotics-leaving Kagetora to his fate. The memory then fades away to black once again as Kagetora is brought back to his broken state in a distant alleyway bleeding out against a wall. For the briefest of moments Kagetora meditated upon his life, how almost everyone he knew simply used him and tossed him aside if they even regarded him at all. Everyone except his mother whom he would die in his attempt to help get money for. All he wanted was to set his mother and himself up with a nice place permanently, no more nights on the streets, no more odd jobs, no more destitute misery in an uncaring society. Tears flowed from his eyes for the first and last time in a long time. “Sorry to make you cry again mom, I never wanted to do that to you…” mourned Kagetora as he took his final breaths on this earth.