CHAPTER NINETEEN

Coronation

Saigo officially became the kobun (child) of Coach on June 7, 1998. The Yokosuka-Ikka had their official sakazuki cementing father-son ties and creating new relations. For Saigo, it was one of the pinnacles of his life. Coach was now the eighth-generation leader of the Yokosuka-ikka, and, of the over 1,000 members, he was one of only fifteen senior members who could drink directly from the cup of the oyabun, elevating him to the upper echelon of the Inagawa-kai. Saigo was an executive director on the Inagawa-kai board and was still serving as Coach’s secretary.

During this time, he was also undergoing interferon treatment for his hepatitis C. He’d been diagnosed with it in 1997. He was told that you could get it through blood infections, usually by sharing needles. Whether it was his own meth use or bad hygiene at the tattoo parlor that caused it, he didn’t know, but he did know it could shorten your life span. The treatment was brutal; the side effects, significant. The treatment was making his hair fall out a little, but not too much. Interferon was expensive, but it was better than an early death.

Hiroko was still in the hospital as well. Since her diagnosis, she would stay ten months inside the hospital, and come back home for two months, and then go back to the hospital.

So while he felt elated to be attending the ceremony, he didn’t feel well physically or mentally.

The lavish ceremony itself was held in the Kanagawa prefecture at an Inagawa-kai-owned event hall. Yoshio Tsunoda, the chairman of the board, presided over the ceremony. The participants, including Coach, were dressed in cream-colored hakama with the Inagawa crest on the front of the robe. All the others were in black suits with white shirts.

The ceremony was primarily an in-house event, held in a sixty-tatami-mat hall. The walls were adorned with names of well-wishers, written vertically in Japanese cursive, with the individual’s name, rank, and group status clearly written out.

A long white cloth, serving as a red carpet of sorts, divided the room. On both sides, square blue or red pillows were laid out for the guest to sit upon. Yamada was among the attendees, dressed traditionally in a hakama. There was also a large notice on the wall that the arrangement was shihoudouseki, meaning “the same (level of) seats in four directions.” Yakuza are very sensitive to rank, and it had to be clear that there was no pattern or meaning as to who sat where. This had to be done to ensure that no one felt slighted or disrespected. Otherwise, you might have Hishiyama feeling like he’d been called “Hishiyama-kun” because his seat was placed further from the altar than someone else.

At the best-planned yakuza events, every seat was a good seat.

The altar to Amaterasu Omikami was placed at the far end of the room against the wall. There were offerings of two madai fish, two bottles of sake in white porcelain bins, and fruits and vegetables, stacked upon each other or in elaborate displays, including a tower of apples that looked like they would fall over if anyone added a single extra apple. The ritual was conducted with great solemnity and with no talking among the 100 or so people assembled.

It was a religious ritual, and while few people there understood what the ritual meant or why the altar was arranged as it was, they did understand that it was not a jovial occasion. Not until the banquet started.

Saigo tried not to fall asleep as it was happening. Excitement was tinged with the sleepiness and fatigue that interferon treatment brings.

The ceremony was moderated by Akira Otomo, an executive boss in another Inagawa-kai family outside the Yokosuka-ikka. In his opening remarks, he apologized in advance for any slip of the tongue or unintentional rudeness on his part while conducting the proceedings. These prefatory remarks were much like the safety instructions given by flight attendants before a plane lifts off — no one really listens but, in the interests of safety and for CYA purposes, they were absolutely necessary. No matter how many years the emcee has been in the yakuza, he will always say, “I’m new to this business, and please forgive my lack of eloquence and etiquette. Please lend me your ears and support until the end of the ceremony.”

Otomo then introduced Coach, noting, “This is the man who will be your parent — the eighth-generation leader of the Inagawa-kai and the board director of the Inagawa-kai advisory committee.”

The Inagawa-kai had several committees, like any corporation, and being a director of at least one was important for status and for rising in the organization. Saigo hoped to attain a position sometime soon. Coach closed his eyes and nodded, solemnly, as he was introduced.

The emcee then introduced the Inagawa-kai members who would become the children of the oyabun, one by one. Of course, Inoue was there, his black hair now tinged with gray, looking very much like a Buddhist priest in his traditional Japanese garb. There was no order of introduction, but Saigo was towards the end of the group, and his eyes lit up when his name was called.

The ritual had many honorary participants, including the official mediator, Tsunoda, who was the waka-gashira in the Inagawa-kai and the most senior representative at the event. If Yuko Inagawa himself had come, it would have been even more prestigious, but the big boss couldn’t make every ceremony. In events like this, the more people who had some sort of title and function in the event, the happier everyone was.

The reading of all the names and honorees itself went on for twenty minutes. Finally, the ritual started, and in a few minutes a large cup of sake in a white porcelain cup, placed on a wooden cup-holder, was brought to Tsunoda, who inspected it and pronounced it “fine.” Then it was taken to Coach. He drank from the cup once, gritted his teeth, and returned the cup to the wooden holder, which was then taken back to the presiding Shinto priest. The Shinto priest and Coach made the required exchange of greetings.

A purified bowl of sake was then divided into fifteen cups, brought before the intermediary, Tsunoda, who approved them, and then distributed to “the children.”

In the video of the ceremony, made by an Inagawa-kai front company, the distribution of the sake cups is choreographed to mystical Japanese music that soars with drums and the sound of the Japanese flute. Each member sits in the seiza position as they adjust their legs and take their sake. The tattoos on Saigo’s arms are briefly visible as he reaches for the cup.

The priest addressed them all. “I know that you have all spent years training in your profession. Therefore, no other remarks are needed. Please drink deeply from the sake cup in three sips and then place it within your pockets.”

In unison, they all drank their cups dry, to a spattering of applause, and then wrapped the cups within white paper provided and tucked them deep into the inner chest pockets of their robes.

They all turned to face their new oyabun and bowed deeply from a seated position, saying, “Yoroshiku onegai shimasu.”* Coach bowed back.

[* This is a standard Japanese greeting that means anything and everything between “Please help me out” and “Nice to meet you.” ]

It was done. Coach was now Saigo’s oyabun. He and Inoue were also now both direct kobun of the Coach. For a yakuza, Saigo thought, there could be nothing better than an oyabun who you truly felt loyal to. Coach had been a strict boss, and would always be a strict boss, but he had gotten Saigo off meth, had never given up on him, and Saigo felt he owed the man his life. He felt he owed Inoue as well. He thought of Inoue as his older brother, and without him he would have never joined the Inagawa-kai.

If it hadn’t been for Coach, he would have been kicked out of the Inagawa-kai and ended up either in prison or dead — he was sure of it. It was one of the happiest days of his life.

The banquet was held in the same hall, with a multitude of attractive women in kimonos pouring the beer or sake, and making small talk with the yakuza in attendance. For a few moments, Saigo thought of his first wife and the daughter he hadn’t seen in years. Would they be proud to see how far he’d risen? He didn’t think about it too much — it made everything taste bitter. He drank as little as possible. It wasn’t good for his liver, and it didn’t go well with interferon.

As he was leaving the hall, Coach stopped him. He had some good news for Saigo. He was going to grant him more territory to watch over. More territory meant more money.

The after-party was full of good food, and, again, attractive women in kimonos poured beer and sake for the men. He hoped Inoue would behave himself. When the man got drunk, he was amusing but uncontrollable. However, this time Inoue was well-behaved.

It was an auspicious day indeed.