He might not have been loquacious but Sumida was definitely better than Kurotaki.
‘You made a decent show of yourself,’ he said when I got in his car two days later. ‘I’ve seen guys do it better – some are almost looking for an excuse. They’ll take off a finger and then finish their drinks before they go, just to make a point. But I’ve seen others, proper yakuza, do a lot worse.’
He was being quite friendly for someone who’d almost broken my cheekbone and then forced me to cut off a finger. I wasn’t sure how to respond.
‘Thanks.’
I thought a little.
‘You’re not affected by it?’
He had no idea what I meant.
‘The violence. It doesn’t affect you? The things you do. They don’t keep you awake at night?’
‘It’s the world we live in. It’s my job.’
He shrugged.
‘It’s like I imagine life in an office – you worked in an office, right?’
I nodded at the second part of his sentence.
‘You had to give people bollockings?’
‘Mostly not, but maybe once or twice.’
‘It probably wasn’t the part of the job you enjoyed, right? It just had to be done.’
Now I shrugged.
‘It’s a bit like martial arts. When I fight I’m aggressive, I want to land big punches and kicks and knock the other guy out. But it’s not personal. It’s no different to hitting those punchball machines you get at fairs. It’s like everything – you do what you need to for the situation you’re in. It’s like this guy, I had to cut his hand off the other day—’
‘You did what?’
Despite everything, I was shocked by the nonchalance of this aside.
‘I had to cut his hand off. Don’t worry,’ he said, catching my look. ‘We didn’t kill him – we had a tourniquet – but I was under orders to teach him a lesson, more than just a rebuke.’
He nodded at my hand, whose lack of a finger I would have described in stronger terms than ‘a rebuke’.
‘I didn’t know him so obviously I had no personal issues. I don’t even know what he did. But he’d fucked someone over and whoever it was must have been rich or powerful. So he had to be taught not to do it again.’
He looked at me.
‘Different trade, different tools, but it’s the same as what you did at your work.’
It was an eloquent enough explanation but I still felt there was a difference. I let it go. He was better than Kurotaki, at least.
‘So, what are we doing now?’
‘We’re going to the office,’ he said. ‘Kumichō wants to see you.’
My stomach turned at the thought.
I don’t remember the journey to the hospital except for the pain and Sumida repeating what I should say. I stumbled into A&E with him at my side and he insisted I was immediately seen. I think my condition would have predicated it, but it didn’t hurt to have an intimidating yakuza beside me to prevent any complaints.
‘You cut it off by mistake making sushi?’ the doctor asked as she examined my finger.
I nodded.
‘And then fell down the stairs and hurt your head?’
‘I was drunk.’
‘It’s lucky you’d happened to tie it up with string before the accident then, isn’t it?’
I was beyond anything but repeating what I’d been told to say or nodding my head. I nodded.
‘OK, let’s get it cleaned up,’ she said with a sigh.
When my ‘friends’ came by the following day they were turned away.
‘You were concussed when you fell,’ the doctor said. ‘We’re going to need you in here another day.’
I was feeling a fair bit better but I still left my response at a nod.
‘Look, we both know your story isn’t true,’ she said in a concerned voice. ‘I don’t want you going back with those men. Let me help you. Let me call the police.’
I looked at her properly for the first time. She was somewhere in her fifties and her manner suggested she’d had people reporting to her for quite some time. I could imagine it being intimidating but just then she seemed more like a stern mother. I would have loved to have her scoop me up in her arms.
‘Really,’ I said, fighting the temptation to nestle up to her. ‘I’m OK. I think things have been resolved – I’m not in any danger now.’
She didn’t look like she believed me but with a full ward of patients it wasn’t something on which she could dwell.
‘If you say so,’ she said, sounding reluctant.
She started to make her way off but then turned.
‘You’re here for another day. Let me know if you change your mind.’
But I hadn’t changed my mind, and when Sumida arrived the next day I followed him to the car, my little finger a swathe of bandages that snaked around the rest of my hand.
‘I hope it isn’t too sore.’
Takata nodded towards my finger as I sat down.
‘It’s not too bad,’ I said, the painkillers doing little to mask the searing pain.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t notified before this happened. It was not in my plans.’
His tone was icy. Considering my reluctant involvement, I assumed his displeasure in this particular instance wasn’t directed at me. I thought a pre-emptive apology for anger that was warranted wouldn’t be unwise.
‘The blame lies with me. What I did was unforgivable. I can’t apologise enough.’
‘It wasn’t your smartest move,’ he said, although he looked far less concerned than I’d worried he would. ‘But we are left with a problem – beyond your reduced grasp.’
He held up his own left hand, which also included a finger of curtailed ambition.
‘You don’t have any need to use a sword?’
‘Other than when I’m told to cut my fingers off, no.’
‘Then I can assure you it restricts you very little in everyday life. It isn’t, however, a look normally adopted by foreign workers at well-respected NGOs.’
‘I would have thought it slightly unusual.’
‘We’ll have you fitted with a prosthetic of course,’ he said, looking thoughtful. ‘But even if we could get it ready in time, you won’t have healed enough to wear one. Let’s see how you’re looking nearer the AGM. Either we’ll do the whole hand in bandages like you have a sprain, or put a plaster cast on it and pretend you broke your hand.’
There was a knock.
‘Come in,’ said Takata.
Kurotaki entered, looking strangely subdued.
‘Ah, Kurotaki, you wanted to speak to Clarence-san?’
Kurotaki came up to where I was sitting.
‘I want to apologise for the other night,’ he started. ‘I didn’t give appropriate thought to the implications of my behaviour and its effect on the organisation. I will endeavour to improve my conduct and act in a manner more befitting of my position from now on.’
He bowed deeply, turned and left the room. I looked at Takata. I couldn’t have been more bewildered if Kurotaki had given me a hug.
‘As I said, your loss is not beneficial to the Takata-gumi,’ he said by way of explanation.
‘And his finger?’
I was making reference to some familiar-looking bandages that swallowed up Kurotaki’s hand.
‘You see, this is what I have to put up with. I rebuke someone for making another commit yubitsume, a practice you know I don’t like. And what response do I get? These ridiculous customs are so deeply engrained, the only way he can think of showing his remorse is to hand me his finger in turn.’
He shook his head.
‘And the apology to me?’
‘That comes from the heart too. You see Kurotaki, in his own way and with his own logic, believes completely in the yakuza of lore. Honour of thieves, protector of the common man, all of that. It’s just that he’s as confused as a mafioso who prays to God and then commits all sins known to man.
‘Anyway, there’s a saying: “If the oyabun says the passing crow is white, then all must agree.” So even if he thought he was right, if I tell him it was wrong, then by everything he believes in, it was wrong.’
I wondered at the relationship between them, one who had absolute faith in all the myths and tenets, the other who believed in nothing at all. Two completely different men who had nonetheless found understanding and mutual respect. Albeit with a few bumps along the way.
‘In this case, I don’t think my views on the colour of fauna come into play. He realises he made a mistake. So you can take the apology as genuine.’
He pursed his lips.
‘Nevertheless, it might be prudent to show some sensitivity towards him for the time being.’
I nodded. I had no intention of putting his sincerity to the test.
‘Right, let’s move on.’ He looked at me closely. ‘While I appreciate your enthusiasm, you may have become a little more proactive than I intended when we last spoke.’
‘I didn’t know what to do. I felt I had what I needed in my grasp but then it was pulled away,’ I said, words tumbling out now I could finally speak to him. ‘I know what I did was unacceptable and I apologise. But it was the only thing I could think of to do.’
He massaged the little finger of his left hand.
‘You’re in too much of a hurry. You think everything has to happen at once. It doesn’t. It’s like fishing – you reel the fish in a little at a time. If you yank at it you lose your catch.’
I hoped we weren’t returning to riddles and metaphors. I just wanted a straight explanation so I could do whatever I needed to stay alive.
‘It’s like I said before, Clarence-san, things happen around you. There are plenty of people in the world who can react to events. But the catalysts, those who effect action – people like you – are rare. That makes you valuable. Unfortunately you seem unaware of your ability and see failure where there is, in fact, success.’
‘I succeeded?’
‘The right people are now aware of certain activities – you’ve done your job.’
‘But I didn’t get to the bottom of the scandal.’
‘I already know everything there is to it,’ he said, as though it were obvious I wasn’t meant to find anything out from the start. ‘That wasn’t the point.’
‘But—’
‘Thank you for your efforts, Clarence-san. Now take the opportunity to rest. Allow your finger to heal, and recover from what must have been a traumatic couple of weeks. I’ll see you again before the AGM but please, refrain from doing anything else. When the time’s right, you’ll be fully briefed.’
He gave me a pointed look.
‘Your job now’s to rest. Nothing else.’
Not long before, a week without physical and verbal abuse would have been par for the course. Now it seemed as close to paradise as I could get. I just had to hope that at its end, having apparently done my job, I could avoid death and not have to worry about hell.