In other words, Kinbara was a loan shark. Saigo said he would remember that, and he did — but Saigo would find that borrowing money from Kinbara was like walking down a slippery slope.

  Japan’s semi-legal sex industry exists on a mind-boggling scale, yet there are very few books or articles that give even a rudimentary idea of how big a role it plays in the national economy. It’s not that the sex industry exists in a gray zone in Japan. If anything, it exists in a pink zone — it’s overwhelmingly legal, except for when the authorities decide to make a token crackdown. Even though selling pornography that depicts uncensored sexual intercourse is a crime, paying for sexual services isn’t. Services such as oral, anal, bondage, and S&M are legal. The only form of prostitution that the law forbids is vaginal penetration with the penis, and it sets no punishment for the prostitute or the customer if caught. There are exceptions to that, as well. So-called soaplands are one such industry.

  The best sex Saigo ever had took place in a soapland. “The women know how to make you reach ecstasy like no ordinary woman could.” Inside a soapland, a man enters a large private bathroom, often with a bedroom or sauna attached. His chosen “attendant” helps him bathe, a process that might include an actual bath, though it most famously involves the girl lathering up every nook and cranny with her own naked body. The customer pays for the “bath” up front. Afterwards, the man and his attendant may decide, as two consenting adults, to go to the room next door and to take the encounter further at a mutually decided fee. This post-bath encounter remains completely independent of the soapland’s business.

  Not only is a soapland a unique experience within Japan’s adult-entertainment industry, but they are also among the top tier. The women who work there are well known to be the most beautiful in the industry. They use their entire bodies to wash customers, and provide services in a bed. Because there’s a bedroom and bathroom, the working area is large. Customers go there looking for high-class service, so technique is important. The women are thorough and professional. They must be able to give a really high-quality massage, stay in excellent physical shape, wash the customer thoroughly, and provide him with at least one orgasm during the service.

  The fees for soaplands are top tier as well. In magazines aimed at women who want to work in the sex industry, this is how the job is introduced:

  Soap

  Intelligence required: ***

  Nudity required: ****

  Work when you want: ****

  Easy stand-by: *****

  Calorie burner: *****

  Payment: ***** (At a shop)

  The payment is the highest because sexual intercourse is understood to be a part of the package. The calorie-burner rating is a reflection of the fact that many women working in the sex industry are very conscious of their weight, and that sexual activity is a form of exercise. Flexible hours are also good for married women or single mothers. Some establishments provide daycare as well.

  Almost every time Saigo went to a soapland, he borrowed money from Kinbara. It would soon become a problem. Going to a soapland was an expensive habit that sometimes cost him $1,000 a night. It was not like his friends had much money and, because he was under eighteen, he couldn’t borrow money from a bank. Plus, to most people, the amount he was asking for seemed like a lot of money to spend on soaplands.

  The more Saigo went to soaplands, the more money he borrowed. He ended up owing the Kinbara-gumi 60 million yen ($60,000). At one point, Saigo’s tab was so high that Kinbara goons grabbed him off the street and took him to their office. Kinbara demanded to know what the hell Saigo was spending all the money on and how he planned on paying them back.

  Saigo told him, “I go to soapland. A lot. I can’t get enough.” Kinbara was so dumbstruck that he laughed.

  Kinbara wanted his money. But, of course, Saigo couldn’t pay Kinbara back immediately. He did, however, promise to pay him back eventually, but asked Kinbara to wait until his lust was satisfied. Saigo told him it would take years to pay it all back, but that would be better than not being reimbursed at all. Kinbara believed that Saigo was a man of his word. He patted Saigo on the shoulder, agreed to his terms, and wished him luck.

  Saigo thought to himself, “Hey, the yakuza are sometimes pretty reasonable.”

  A short time later, Kinbara finally figured out the extent of Saigo’s money-making activities. Saigo had long crossed the line between right-wing group and yakuza.

  On a bright summer’s day in 1984, Kinbara called Saigo’s office and said, “I’m going to come by and say hello. Let’s have some tea.”

  Saigo said sure.

  Kinbara showed up with two soldiers and his right-hand man, Takeda, who was rumored to be a rather short-tempered and violent individual. Kinbara was dressed in a navy-blue suit, double-breasted, exquisitely tailored. Yet he still managed to look like a menacing thug. However, his tone was cordial.

  As they talked, Kinbara mumbled to himself. Takeda had a small notepad, and was taking memos. “A signboard on the wall. A paper lantern on the wall with the group name on it.”

  Saigo felt something was wrong, but Kinbara assured Saigo that everything was fine. He was just admiring his office. Patriotism must pay well. Kinbara had heard about their local support and wanted to gauge what they were up to. He asked Saigo if he could take a company newsletter from the pile stacked in the corner. He looked over the newsletter, which, in addition to local business ads, had advertisements featuring the names of Inagawa-kai, Yamaguchi-gumi, and Sumiyoshi-kai members.

  Kinbara looked at the picture of a Sumiyoshi-kai boss posted on the wall of the office and tipped his head towards it, making eye contact with Takeda. Takeda made another scribble in his notebook.

  Kinbara didn’t stay long. As he was leaving, he gently tapped the daimon on Saigo’s kanban (signboard). It was the same as the daimon on Saigo’s men’s jumpsuits.

  Kinbara thanked Saigo for showing him the office, got up from the leather sofa, and left.

  A day later, ten soldiers from the Kinbara-gumi burst through the door of Saigo’s office, when they knew he was not there. They went straight up to his second-in-command, Yusuke Yamada.

  “You’re supposed to be a fucking right-wing group, but you’re just a gang.”

  One by one, they listed everything the group had that made them look like a yakuza group, pounding the desk, rattling off each “tell.”

  “When you next hear from Saigo, tell him to come to our office. We’re going to talk. And we’re taking this hostage in lieu of him.” And, with little or no resistance, they pried the kanban off the wall and carried it out.

  They had a point. In almost every way, Saigo’s group was indistinguishable from a low-ranking yakuza group, and Kinbara wouldn’t stand for it. The loss of the kanban was devastating. The kanban was a symbol of the group’s power, their unity, their face. Just like a yakuza, without a kanban, Saigo’s right-wing group was nothing but a bunch of punks. Come hell or high water, Saigo was going to take that signboard back.

  Saigo summoned all of his soldiers to the office, telling them to bring baseball bats, metal pipes, knives, whatever weapon they could find. The office phones were ringing off the hook, and Saigo sent men to the train station to use the public telephone to call in the stragglers. He had almost 100 men assembled that night, many of them in uniform. They were excited. Nobody really knew what was going on, but they were going to rumble. This was no ordinary excursion. A rusty scent of sweat, anticipation, and fear filled the air.

  There was barely room to stand, so Saigo climbed up on his desk and explained the situation. It didn’t take long. “Without our kanban, we’re nothing. We’re not going to stand for this. That’s why we’re going to storm their offices and take back our kanban!”

  Saigo had thought it was a pretty inspirational speech; he’d expected a flood of raised hands. All he saw was a sea of heads, many of them looking at the floor. There was a long silence.

  “Senpai,” said one of the crew, “they’re yakuza. We aren’t yakuza. They’ll kill us.” There were some murmurs of agreement.

  Saigo was outraged. “Listen, our reputation is on the line here. We have to go. We’re tough. There’s 100 of us. We’re young. We’re right. We’ll win.”

  There was another long silence. Exasperated, Saigo changed his sales pitch. “We’ve come a long way together. We are The Shelter. If there is any man here who isn’t man enough to go on this mission, if there’s anyone here too scared to come with me, then raise your hand now and get the fuck out of my sight. Because if you raise your hand, you’re saying you quit.”

  A single hand went up in the back of the room. Saigo couldn’t see who it was because the guy raising his hand was so short that his face was hidden. Other hands followed.

  Saigo had his ocean of raised hands, but they weren’t the ones he’d been hoping for. Many of the crew shuffled backwards out of the office. Some bowed in his direction, apologizing, and ran out. Saigo was flabbergasted. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned it. He’d thought the members of the group that had rumbled with him during their speed tribes days would be up for the good fight. No such luck. Within ten minutes, there were only five of his crew left, including himself. Five out of 100. Maybe that was actually a good number.

  Yamada shrugged his shoulders and said to Saigo, “You know, we’ve been acting like big-shot yakuza. Kinbara and his guys really are yakuza. So you know.”

  Saigo knew.

  He asked them what they wanted to do.

  “Let’s go get it back,” said one of the crew. “If we bring it back, that’s our victory.”

  Saigo couldn’t guarantee they’d even walk out alive.

  But his small crew was loyal. They thought, if it happened, it happened. So they left their office and headed towards Kinbara. They were unarmed and scared out of their minds. When they arrived, there were several gang members hanging out in front smoking cigarettes. One of them ran into the office, and suddenly Saigo heard the sound of beepers going off. The Kinbara-gumi had sounded an alarm.

  They walked into the office. It was Saigo’s second visit there. The men inside sprang up from their chairs and grabbed him and his crew. They were frisked, and held in the reception room. Kinbara came out of his office and looked at them, dumbfounded.

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  “We came for our kanban,” said Saigo.

  Kinbara burst out laughing. “Are you crazy? You think you’re getting that back?”

  “Please give it back.”

  Kinbara punched him several times, Saigo stood his ground. He asked Kinbara to please stop hitting him and to give him back his kanban.

  Kinbara launched into a tirade about what a dirty double-crosser Saigo was and that he had no right to violate the Kinbara-gumi turf. Saigo should just tuck his tail between his legs, get the hell out of Machida, and flee to Tokyo.

  Flanked by his men on two sides, Saigo apologized for upsetting Kinbara and impugning the honor of the Kinbara-gumi. Meanwhile, the word spread among Kinbara-gumi members that Saigo and his crew had been kidnapped by the gang and were being held at their office.

  Additional gang members began swarming into the office to jeer at Saigo and to offer suggestions to Kinbara. Some suggested they bury him. Others suggested that, for his insubordination, Saigo should cut off one of his fingers and offer it to the boss.

  Saigo didn’t budge. Kinbara was impressed. He offered to induct Saigo into his own gang.

  Saigo declined his offer.

  Kinbara told him that he’d let Saigo live if he turned all his men over to the Kinbara-gumi. Saigo didn’t have the nerve to say that these five were all that was left of his crew. He refused to cough up even one man to the Kinbara-gumi.

  The gallery of yakuza were still suggesting that they kill Saigo and his men, and bury the bodies.

  After what seemed like hours of threats, Kinbara surprised everyone by letting Saigo take his kanban back. In return, Saigo promised to dismantle his group, set them all on the straight and narrow path, and get the hell out of Machida.

  He was lucky to leave the office alive, but there was no way he was going to leave Machida.

  Saigo figured it this way: he owed money to Kinbara. Kinbara told him to join his group or get out of town, but there was another option, in which he could maintain his independence, not pay back Kinbara, and regain his kanban and his dignity. As the old saying goes, if you can’t beat them, join someone else.

  He wasn’t going to flee to Tokyo; he was going to talk to Inoue. He was going to join the Inagawa-kai.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Giri

  The first thing Saigo did after restoring his kanban to his office wall was see Inoue. Their bond was still tight, and Saigo trusted him. It was a bit of a tricky place because The Shelter was still under the Sumiyoshi-kai umbrella, so while Saigo could have gone to the Sumiyoshi-kai for help, he had never got explicit permission to open his gang office in Machida. He wasn’t sure if the Sumiyoshi-kai would back him up if he had to fight Kinbara’s group. Inoue was a good person to ask for advice, and he hoped Inoue might take him under his wing. He needed to either be a yakuza or have another yakuza group back him if he was going to survive in Machida now.

  Saigo sat in Inoue’s office on the seventh floor of a building in Kabukicho. Inoue listened sympathetically to Saigo’s tale of woe, from start to finish. Saigo asked to join the Inagawa-kai; to be under Inoue. Inoue shook his head. Although Inoue was a gang boss in the Inagawa-kai, it was still Hideo Hishiyama who ran the Inagawa-kai office in Machida. If Saigo was going to run his gang in Machida, Hishiyama was the one he needed to speak to. This was a good thing, because Hishiyama needed soldiers.

  Inoue asked how many men Saigo had left under his command. After he’d brought back the signboard, some of his men sheepishly returned. He had ten to fifteen soldiers he could count on. That was good, Inoue told him. That meant he had some leverage.

  If Saigo could bring fifteen men on board, he might be able to set himself up as a fourth-tier yakuza boss (entry level) and have his own outfit. It was likely that Hishiyama would go for it. In addition, things would have to be smoothed over with the Sumiyoshi-kai in order for Saigo to properly go over to the Inagawa-kai. Inoue promised to take care of it in addition to setting up a meeting with Hishiyama.

  Hishiyama’s office was in his home, which was not that uncommon for yakuza, a two-storey house in the middle of Machida. Saigo and five of his men went and knocked on his door.

  Hishiyama’s men led them to the foyer to meet Hishiyama. They exchanged ritual bows and introductions, and were led to the main room. Saigo stood while Hishiyama sat back on his sofa, observing the situation.

  Hishiyama was a surly-looking fellow. He was prematurely bald, with a long, oval face and eyebrows that looked like they were half the length of what they should be. Perhaps it was his narrow eyes, long flat nose, and lack of eyebrows that made his face seem almost expressionless; as though it had been carved in porcelain.

  Saigo asked Hishiyama to be his oyabun.

  Hishiyama immediately conducted the equivalent of a job interview. He wanted to know how many men Saigo had to call on. He checked Saigo’s history, criminal records, past associations, and friends in the yakuza. He then asked for a reference within the Inagawa-kai who could vouch for him. When Saigo referred him to Takahiko Inoue of the Inoue-gumi, Hishiyama’s eyes lit up. Although Inoue had referred Saigo, Hishiyama hadn’t fully understood the extent of their relationship. The fact that Saigo was close enough to Inoue to have him act as a reference was impressive. After all, Inoue used to be the bodyguard of Chairman Ishii, the head of their family, the Yokosuka-ikka.

  At the time, Saigo hadn’t been aware of that part of Inoue’s life. Susumu Ishii, also called the gentleman yakuza, was an internationally known crime boss. He was the second-generation leader of the Inagawa-kai, and one of Japan’s most well-respected godfathers.

  Hishiyama made the call, and Inoue gave Saigo a glowing recommendation. Hishiyama nodded and laughed while he spoke with Inoue. After hanging up, Hishiyama laid down the law for Saigo: If he took on Saigo as his kobun, then Saigo had to call him oyabun. He had to pledge his loyalty to Hishiyama and the Inagawa-kai. It was an oath of absolute loyalty; he would do whatever was asked of him with no questions asked. The yakuza had a saying: if the oyabun says the passing crow is white, it’s white.

  If there was a gang war, he would be called to fight, and might even die. If there was a shooting, he might be asked to take responsibility for the crime, even if he hadn’t done it — all for the greater good of the organization.

  He told Saigo to think it over and come back the next day. Saigo didn’t have to think it over. He and his crew joined the Hishiyama-kogyo on the spot.

  By no means was this casual and informal appointment the norm in the yakuza world. Becoming a yakuza and a kumicho all at once was unheard of. The standard practice was to either be recruited or volunteer “to become a real man” at a young age and to spend up to two years living in the office of the oyabun, working as a virtual serf. Sumikomi — the live-in yakuza — were at the bottom of the ladder. If they survived the rigorous hazing and training that came with becoming a full-fledged yakuza member, there was an elaborate sake exchange ritual in which the newbie would become the adopted child of the boss, and the boss would become his father.

  The nature of the ritual varied between groups, but the ceremony was often elaborate and required the presence of a Shinto priest, versed in the mystic rites that sealed the bonds between yakuza bosses and their “children.”

  There was no need for standing on ceremony in the current situation that the two of them faced. For Hishiyama, it was a matter of expediency. He needed soldiers, back-up, and a base to expand in Machida. Saigo provided all that. Saigo’s history as a motorcycle gangster, a right-wing group leader, and his reputation as an uncontrollable violent force of nature made him like the Instant Ramen version of a yakuza boss: just add a daimon and a kanban. Saigo was ready to go.