The Punk Rock Queen And Her Irezumi

The story of Enki, the tattoo artist, goes as follows. Enki, a young woman in her early thirties, abandoned her life as a student to pursue tattooing for the yakuza. When she was fifteen, Enki went to school with the son of a yakuza boss. The son took notice of Enki's unusual illustrations in her notebook, often trying to convince her that they weren't just mere adolescent drawings, but deep, passionate works of art that belonged on the bodies of criminals. The quote, "The memories our bodies tell," became the single driving factor for Enki, using it as a sort of slogan for her business after finally conceding to join the industry. Nobody truly knows why she gave up her normal student life to get involved with criminal organizations, but some speculate it was because of the son of the yakuza member had threatened her family. For over fifteen years, Enki has been the number-one-top-rated irezumi artist among the yakuza factions, whether it's the Bara-gumi or even more powerful clans that have yet to be named in front of me.

Or so Xianshi explained to me on our bike ride toward the red-light district.

"That's a pretty open-ended tale. Who's to say if any of it is true or just conjecture?"
I said, not bothering to remove my helmet as we sat in front of the rundown tattoo shop. The storefront had many windows slathered in album covers from the late '90s through early 2000s, some of which I had recognized from Kazuya's Ringo music account on my phone. The single word that resided in neon lights atop the building read,
"Kioku,"
translating to 'Memories.'

Xianshi scratched at his stubble, shrugging in confusion as he pondered.
"Not sure how true it is, Princess. All I know is what I've been told. I've only lived here for thirteen years, so Enki is a bit of an enigma to me. One thing is for certain, though: I'm sure you'll receive the answers you want from her."

I nodded, stepping off his bike with my helmet still on. I tapped my own chin in thought, trying to figure out what exactly I would be asking Enki once I entered. Xianshi had mentioned that Enki would definitely tell me about Sora, but insisted it would be better if I didn't know anything. Much like when he and Masaaki refused to elaborate further, he continued to stay silent about Sora's identity for my own sake.

I gazed up at the humble storefront, taking note of the many album covers that prevented onlookers from seeing inside. I assumed it was to keep the public eye away from the shady services being conducted inside, and I half-expected to enter and see a few gruff men lying on their stomachs as Enki inked their skin.

When I finally built up the courage, I opened the door to a welcoming chime. The bell echoed through the empty building, and the sound of alternative rock played quietly from the speakers overhead. I hadn't seen anyone when I entered, but heard a soft, feminine voice call out,
"Go away, I don't do walk-ins."

I gazed over the countertop, finally seeing the source of the voice. It was a woman in her thirties, like Xianshi had said. She had her hair styled in a very outdated bob, streaks of blue and purple coating the underside of her roots. Her combat boots were dark black, stretching from her soles up to her thighs, which were almost as petite as mine. In fact, the woman herself was quite petite, almost as small as me. She wore extremely revealing shorts, her pockets visible through the frayed edges that clamped against her thighs, and a sexy crop top shirt with the logo of a famous band on the breasts: 'the pillows.'

This woman's eyes didn't bother looking up from the Weekly Shonen Jump magazine she had been reading, and she repeated herself in a much firmer tone,
"I said I don't do walk-ins!"

"I'm with the Bara-gumi. I wanted irezumi done on my back... and maybe barbed-wire on my chest?"
I spoke softly, finally catching her attention with the name of my organization.

"You're with Charlotte? Huh, aren't you a bit young to be rolling with the yakuza? Seriously, these punks are getting younger and younger each day. Seriously!"
She repeated the word, "seriously," like a mantra.

"I... was hoping we could talk about Umeda Sora."
I gulped, unsure if her vulgar attitude would turn even worse at the mention of a lost friend.

The woman fell off her chair trying to stand up, stepping on her magazine as she darted up to meet my gaze. Her purple eyes were seething with pure anger, and she looked as if she were about to reach over the countertop to slap me.
"How the fuck do you know that name?! Keep Sora's name out of your mouth or I swear to God I'll kill you where you stand, brat!"

I stood my ground, even leaning a bit further to challenge her.
"So you're Enki? Perfect, I was hoping you wouldn't be a tall, muscular woman like Charlotte."

Enki narrowed her eyes, studying the shape of my face with darting pupils.
"You... who are you?"
A bead of sweat dripped down her cheek.

I removed the motorcycle helmet from my head, setting it down gracefully against the glass countertop that separated us. I extended my hand out to her for a handshake.
"Umeda Mika... I believe you know something about... my mother?"

Enki's breath caught audibly in her throat. She gasped loudly, putting a hand over her mouth as she suppressed a sob. Her eyes filled with tears, a waterfall soon accompanying her whimpers. I could feel my own eyes start to water at the sight of her, but I quickly stuffed my sorrow back into my brain, remembering my vow to never cry again until I killed Charlotte.

Again, someone was looking at me like they had seen a ghost, but this time there was no confusion. Enki poured her heart and soul into showing me the exact emotions that she was experiencing.

"Umeda... Mika? Seriously?!"
She sobbed louder, practically leaping over the counter to smother me in a hug.

I heard myself let out a gasp, and my body froze stiff as she embraced me. She cried as hard as her body would allow her to, downright screaming and shaking as she felt every inch of my small head in her hands. When she pulled back to admire me, I saw her giggling through the tears. Her hands rested warmly against my blushing cheeks, cupping them like a mother would do after reuniting with her offspring after something tragic.

"Yeah, you look exactly like her. You're so beautiful, Mika, down to the very pores of your skin."

This is all moving too fast for me to keep up. What do I even say in a moment like this?

"Um... thank you?"
I whispered, feeling a bit flustered at my lack of response. If anything, I must have looked quite confused.

Enki wiped the smudged makeup spilling down her cheeks, fanning her eyes as she led me into one of the few tattoo rooms behind her desk.

"Please, take a seat. Do you need anything? Water?"
Enki sat in front of me, smiling profusely as she gestured toward her mini fridge.

"Water sounds good, thank you,"
I responded, feeling my own lips curl upward at her contagious expression.

"You're so polite; such wonderful manners. Sora would be so proud of you."
Enki handed me a bottle of water, propping her chin in her hands as she stared at me.

"So, it's true then? This... Umeda Sora girl was my mother? Sora is the woman who was found dead in Sanya that day when Sato-san took me into custody?"
I asked her with a puzzled expression, half-hoping that it wouldn't be true.

Unfortunately, Enki nodded; sorrow clouding her face as she did so. Her voice trembled softly as she spoke.
"Umeda Sora was my best friend. I knew she was pregnant right before she died, but had no idea she actually gave birth! You're a miracle baby, Mika."

"A miracle baby? N-no... I'm just a lowly yakuza now. My life hasn't been a very happy one, so I wouldn't call myself a miracle."
I tilted my head down, unable to hide my true feelings as I answered her.

Enki firmly shook her head, placing both hands on my shoulders before saying,
"No! That's not true, Mika. You're a living miracle. You were supposed to die the day that Sora died. I spent thirteen whole years thinking you died that day along with Sora. But I can see now... life hasn't been too kind to you, has it?"

I couldn't hold it back any longer. Upon hearing those words, something snapped deep within my heartstrings. First came a single tear, then two, and so on. Much like Enki, I could feel the inescapable sobs flood my face, and my gasps came in loud, sharp breaths. Thoughts of Nozomi clouded my mind, and how my own carelessness led to the severing of our relationship. I thought about how Sato-san, who had cared for me with every fiber of his being, was hung by his neck for reasons undisclosed to me. Lastly, I thought about my late mother, and the story about how her life ended too short.

I'm... crying?! No! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stop crying! I'm supposed to be tougher than this! I haven't even met my mother, so I shouldn't feel sad about this chance reunion! Stop it! Stop crying!

My body shook intensely, and I yanked at my own bangs to hide my eyes from her.
"Enki... Enki..."

I called her name as she hugged me, allowing me to finally break down against her chest. Her tears soon returned after mine, and we embraced until I finally released my pent up frustrations all over her thin shirt.