Chapter 117 - Yakuza History
"Well, well. You're looking awfully pleased. Say what you will, but you're still a man, ain't ya, boss?"
"...It's nothing. I wasn't having any weird thoughts."
"Oh?"
For just a moment, I did wonder—now that Angelica's got an ID saying she's over eighteen, just how exactly is she going to come on to me? I thought about it.
Maybe she'd cater to my tastes and come at me with a danchi wife scenario. Would she approach me for a nighttime neighborhood association meeting wearing nothing but an apron and a household account book? Such improper images did spring to mind.
But then I had even more foolish thoughts, like how that kind of thing would probably suit Ayako-chan or Philia better.
However, my heart is filled with the pure waters of Fatherhood, so I can immediately extinguish the flames of desire.
My mental structure is fundamentally different from Gondo's, who openly voices his lust for high school girls.
Though I feel the biggest reason is fundamentally just my sexual preference for women around my own age, in any case, I'd rather you not underestimate my morals.
So, I'll say it with my chest puffed out.
"I don't harbor desire toward children."
Gondo snorted derisively. He didn't look like he believed me at all.
"Children, huh. Angelica-chan, a child? Ha. Don't make me laugh. Even at her real age of sixteen, she's old enough to get married, so what part of her is a child? Especially with those impressive things she's got on her."
"Just because she's a D85 doesn't make it okay to treat her like an adult. Inside, she's still an adolescent girl. What she needs isn't a lover, it's a guardian."
"Why do you know her exact cup size?"
"..."
It's not my fault. The conversation she was having while seemingly getting along so well with Ayako-chan during their body measurements just happened to reach my ears.
"You don't see many oyaji who know their daughter's bust size in detail. See, what'd I tell ya. You really are one of us, boss."
"One of you?"
"You've got the same potential as me: you're a 'JK-eating old man'."
I glare at him, thinking, who the hell wants a talent like that?
But Gondo just laughs merrily, not scared in the slightest.
He's a man with nerves so steady it's infuriating.
"Nice, boss. That look in your eyes—no matter how you look at it, it's the eyes of a man with a record. Enough to make anyone shiver. And on top of that, you sink your fangs into teenage girls as naturally as breathing. You're the ideal yakuza, ain't ya? Why don't you hurry up and join our family? I really think you'd be perfect for it."
"You try to recruit me at every opportunity, don't you."
"Of course I do. Every industry's short on manpower these days."
If only we had you in our family, we'd have nothing to fear, Gondo says with a shrug.
"Plus, if you became a member of our family, Angelica-chan might come around here to play. I might get to regularly meet a blonde beauty who's actually JK age. Couldn't ask for better."
"That's your real reason, isn't it... You really are hopeless."
Or rather, I want to yell at him not to show his ulterior motives right in front of her guardian.
"It ain't hopeless at all. Girls shine brightest while they're in high school. They're at their prime, so to speak. ...What is it about JKs that's so damn alluring?"
"I don't really feel that kind of brand power from high school girls..."
"Are you some kind of pervert? Any guy would fall for a high school girl, right? I love high school girls so much, I was born from one."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"My old lady was still seventeen when she had me. Brings a tear to your eye, don't it? Just thinking about my mom, dressed in a sailor uniform, going to the maternity clinic with me in her belly—that alone gets me going."
"Your love of JKs... isn't that mixed up with a mother complex?"
"Who cares about the origin? Bottom line, high school girls in uniform are the cutest things on Earth. That's all I'm trying to say."
You think so too, right, boss? he asks, seeking agreement.
But as a Hero—no, as a human being—I can't nod here.
"Look—it's not that high school girls are cute, it's that the uniforms are cute."
In an instant, Gondo's eyes sharpen.
It's an expression that looks like he could seriously kill someone.
He seems far angrier than when I cut his arm off here before.
I want to ask him if his life in the underworld is okay with that.
"Hold on a sec, boss. I can't let that one slide. ...I might not beat you in a fistfight, but I've got my pride too, things I can't back down on."
"Don't get all prideful over something like this. Just listen. School uniforms are designed by proper designers and cost tens of thousands of yen, right? So of course they look better than some cheap clothes a random girl picked out with her own sense of style. Even if a thirty- or forty-year-old wore a high school uniform, they'd probably look cute. My favorite is a woman around thirty being made to wear her old school uniform. You get it, right?"
"I don't get it at all."
Gondo denies it flatly.
"Once you're past thirty, that's not a 'woman,' that's a 'fossil.' Getting excited over a fossil is something only an archaeologist would do. To me, a woman over thirty is on the same level as an ammonite on display in a museum."
As expected, a member of a criminal syndicate says different things. He's an antisocial person through and through.
"It seems our tastes don't match."
"I agree. I never figured you for the kind of pervert who gets turned on by anyone over eighteen."
I misjudged you, Gondo sighs.
"What a waste... If I were in your shoes, I'd have already moved both Rio and Angelica-chan into my room and be sleeping in the same bed with 'em."
"Th-there's no way that kind of lewd imitation would be allowed. What the hell are you thinking?"
"Wrapped up in a warm JK futon, spending the night. Every sex offender in Japan probably dreams of that. With your kind of evil potential, you could've easily achieved it... Why're you getting all fidgety?"
"It's nothing. More importantly, can we get to the main topic? I think we've been chatting too much."
"You're in an odd hurry. Well, whatever."
I pull the passport from Gondo's hand and flip through it.
Then, when I reach a certain page, my hand stops.
I expected it, but the photo is pretty terrible.
"This woman, she's a nineteen-year-old Russian, right?"
"Yeah."
"She doesn't look like Angelica at all."
How should I put it... she looks about twice as wide as Angelica.
"If the police order you to present it, just insist she lost weight after coming to Japan. Dieting and makeup can change a person's face."
"That's ridiculous..."
"Besides, when it's a different race, you can't really tell faces apart anyway. Foreigners often say all Japanese people look the same, right? To us, all Westerners look alike too. That's just how it is. A Japanese cop won't be able to tell the difference between that Sofia-chan and Angelica-chan."
"Isn't that a bit too sloppy...? Wait, so her name's Sofia, this girl?"
"Yeah. Apparently, Sofia is a common name among younger people. It's an old name, but for some reason, it's trendy now."
So it's a name that's both retro and incredibly modern at the same time.
Is it like the position names like "Aoi-chan" or "Sakura-chan" hold in Japan?
"Well, whatever. You've helped me out."
I give my thanks and slip the passport into my pocket.
My business here is done.
There's no reason to stay any longer, so I'll get out of here quickly.
As I start to stand up, Gondo raises his voice. "Hold on."
"What?"
Don't tell me he's going to say he can't just hand it over for free.
He's a man from the underworld. I don't know what he might demand.
I instinctively brace myself.
"Scary. I ain't planning to fight. This is just some unnecessary meddling on my part. You're working with the Public Safety guys right now. That right?"
"...You even looked into that?"
"I didn't investigate from my end. They approached me."
"What?"
"Probably a background check on you, I'd guess."
Sugitani-san knows that I'm dealing with the yakuza?
...He seems mild-mannered, but he's a shrewd one.
"Those guys didn't just turn a blind eye to arranging that passport—they partly lent a hand."
"What do you mean?"
"They probably figured it'd motivate you more. In short, that ID is officially government-approved, in the truest sense. You can use it with pride."
"...I'll do that."
It's not a bad deal. I want to believe that.
Right in front of me as I'm lost in thought, Gondo laughs quietly. It was a laugh that seemed to resonate deep in his throat, like "Heh heh heh heh."
"I told you a sweet deal fell into your lap, right? That's related to this. From now on, our family will be granted freedom within the limits the Public Safety allows."
"...Is something like that even possible?"
"Though we've been ordered to behave ourselves. Drugs and prostitution are forbidden, apparently. And on top of that, we're told to handle any request you make. Basically, they're saying we should help you from zones the law can't cover. From a country-bumpkin yakuza group to underlings of a national organization overnight. We've moved up in the world, haven't we."
"That talk about returning to your roots—was it about this?"
"Yeah."
What do you mean, returning to your roots? I ask.
"'Cause until just a few decades ago, the yakuza were doing similar things. Our masters back then weren't the Public Security Intelligence Agency, though—they were the Metropolitan Police."
"...You're saying you were in bed with the police?"
"Not in bed. It was a formal request."
Gondo narrows his eyes as he speaks.
"This is something I heard from my oyaji—and by oyaji, I don't mean my blood-related father, I mean my boss. Right after the war, the yakuza were heroes. We were like dark police officers. The world was in total chaos from the defeat. Even if they wanted to mobilize officers to maintain public order, a huge number of young men still hadn't been repatriated from the front lines. The police alone didn't have enough manpower. They were so desperate they had to use any man who was good in a fight, no matter who. Even if those guys were an antisocial group, as long as they were in the country, anything went."
"And you're saying that was the yakuza?"
"That's right. Yakuza are villains, but even we can't survive if the country we live in is completely destroyed. They probably worked desperately for the good of society. That's why post-war Japan was lenient on the yakuza. In old movies, we're portrayed favorably, right? All that talk about humanity and chivalry."
"Isn't that just wishful thinking on your part? Did that really happen?"
"Of course it did."
Think about it, Gondo says.
"Japan's about the only place where the mafia can openly set up an office like this. Regulations are stricter in other countries, so they operate in secret. A famous example is the Italian Mafia in America. They're the guys who've been in movies, but apparently, they're a rare sight these days. The government got serious about countermeasures, and they took a huge hit. The few members who survived went underground and are becoming a thing of the past."
"If that's true, the yakuza in Japan really are privileged."
"It's a reward for being the government's lapdogs. We get overlooked for a lot of things. Though nowadays, that credit's almost run out, and the treatment's getting worse every year."
Hey, Nakamoto-boss, Gondo says, twisting his lips.
"You could say we yakuza and the big shots were in the middle of divorce mediation, so to speak, but thanks to you, we've managed to reconcile. Couldn't be happier, really."
Feeling a bit conflicted at being thanked by him, I rise from my seat.
I'm busy today. I need to get moving soon.
"I'm leaving now. No need to see me out."
A curt "Yeah" comes back in reply.
Hearing it at my back, I start walking briskly toward the entrance.
...Even so.
Is it a gain that I've found out Sugitani-san is more capable than I thought?
He seems quite resourceful.
Depending on negotiations, might he even grant Angelica a residence permit with better conditions?
Is he someone I can consult about various matters, like Philia's situation, or the handling of Ayako-chan, who's now become two people?
Should I continue observing him for a while longer?