The Yonjunana

I am, at least I was, Yakuza. Much is written of what we are and what we do, but above all else, we are family. We are one. The kobun or head of my clan, the Yonjunana (the forty seven) was Asano. He was an honest man, strong in mind and body, a man to love, a man to follow. He was taken from us and I have been cast aside, divorced. I am alone.

Each year the various kobun meet under the roof of Tokugawa Tsunayosi. He is Oyabun, father to us all. Control of the drugs, girls and gambling held tight within his fist. Kira Yoshinaka is his Saiko-komon, his advisor and has risen quickly to the status that he holds to the indignation of the others. He doesn’t walk the same path as the elders believing fear rather than loyalty will gain him the recognition he craves.

My master as is the custom bought gifts for the kobun to show his love and obedience. Kira became upset with the quality of Asano’s gift and insulted him in front of the others. My master took this initial slight with forbearance and grace as he was within the house of Tokugawa and to react would be a grave insult in itself. Kira however, would not be calmed and continued on his attack. Eventually Asano could not restrain himself and tried to kill Kira with his wakizashi. The guards intervened and Asano could only manage to wound Kira before he was stopped. The council met and decided that Asano should commit seppuku to atone for the gravity of an attack within the Oyabun’s house and so it was that my master took his life in the tradition of our fathers.

The house of Yonjunana was thus destroyed. For eighteen months I have played a role that has kept me free from harm and allowed me to plan for this moment. Others from the clan have attempted vengeance for Asano and paid the price of impatience. For me, sake was both my friend and protector. The disgust in the faces of people who I had called friends as they passed me in the gutter was just more fuel to the fire that burned within. My dishonour complete, my threat extinguished, Kira relaxed.

So it is that I stand here, cloaked by the absence of moonlight watching Kira Yoshinaka, the man responsible for my master’s death. The light from within the smoky glass allows me to watch him drift from room to room oblivious to the pain that I carry for us both. Once all is dark and quiet within I head towards the house.

The guard turns just before I get to the door and the look of surprise turns to one of fear then pain as I plunge the knife into his throat. The blood bubbles against his pale skin as he tries to shout a warning and his radio drops to the pavement. I hear movement from within and know that surprise is no longer a weapon I can use. I smash the window with the radio and climb in. I run through the corridor to the main bedroom but on first glance find it empty. I hear a rustle from the cupboard and open it to see his wide frightened eyes peering from the darkness within. I grab his robe and pull him out onto the soft white carpet.

I kneel in deference to his rank and lay Asano’s wakizashi on the floor ahead of him. “Asano still lives within his blade” I whisper nodding to the brittle brown powder like rust against the gleaming steel. “Follow his lead and do what you know to be right. I will act as your second”. His trembling hands push the blade away and he starts to cry. It sickens me that this man, as close as he is to the heart of what I love can be so weak. “Take it”, I say, unable to keep the irritation from my voice at the lack of honour being displayed. The incomprehensible sound that comes from his mouth I take as another refusal. The four movements that follow are as one. My sword slices through his neck and is back within the scabbard in a fraction of a second. His body slumps sideways to the floor as his head rolls towards the speckled wall.

As I lay his head at the gravestone of my master I know that I am whole again. I have almost closed the circle and I can be at peace with myself once more. The clans will come for me now that I have raised a hand against one of their own regardless of the context and this is how it must be. Unity is their strength and an attack on one is an attack on all.

The scent of the lilies helps me to find a place of tranquillity as I savour the last of my breath. I have asked Kamei one of the original Yonjunana to act as my second. He stands to one side waiting. I take four sips from the sake and place the cup back on the wooden table and take the paper and pen and start to write.

What are they to me
Money, health and happiness
When my lord lies still and cold
Vengeance I have had
Equilibrium restored

I slip off the kamishimo that I am wearing and tuck it beneath my knees to stop me slipping and grasp the blade.

My skin embraces the growing pressure of the blade and so it begins. Eyes fixed, I pull from left to right and at once feel the darkness creeping through my veins. The upward thrust takes my breath away and I almost falter. Shadows dance at the edges of my vision and I ask for just a little more strength as I bite down against the pain. I extract the blade and plunge it into my groin willing it towards my sternum.

I welcome the whisper of Kamei’s katana as my journey ends.