2
March 25, 2010
Thursday, 6:57 p.m.
Kobe, Japan
Hisayuki Ishii’s driver, Akira, pulled into the roundabout facing the Hotel Okura Kobe and halted in front of the main entrance. Stopped ahead of them was the first car of the three-car motorcade that had driven the oyabun of the Aizukotetsu-kai Yakuza organization and his saiko komon, Tadamasa Tsuji, the forty-six miles from Kyoto to Kobe. The bodyguards climbed out of the first vehicle, all with their hands stuck inside their jackets, clutching the butts of concealed handguns so that they could be drawn out in an emergency. No one was comfortable visiting Kobe, the traditional home of the rival Yamaguchi-gumi Yakuza family, especially for an impromptu meeting with the organization’s oyabun. If the Yamaguchi-gumi were inclined, there was too much opportunity to plan an ambush.
Akira leaped out and rounded Hisayuki’s armored LS 600h L sedan and waved away the hotel doorman. Hisayuki preferred to have his own driver open his door to avoid any unwanted surprises. Behind came the third car with its additional host of bodyguards.
The move from vehicle to inside the hotel happened in seconds. Inside, Hisayuki was formally greeted by the general manager and guided to a private elevator, whisking him, his saiko-komon, and two of his most trusted lieutenants up to the penthouse floor, where they were escorted into a private dining room. There Hisayuki was greeted by his Yamaguchi-gumi equivalent, Oyabun Hiroshi Fukazawa. He too was accompanied by his saiko-komon, a slight bespectacled man by the name of Tokutaro Kudo, who, by his diminutive size, made his boss appear to be a giant.
Actually, Hiroshi was big. Although not a giant, he was almost a head taller than Hisayuki, with a broad, serious face. He was dressed as nattily as his guest, in elegant European business attire.
Besides the two principles and their respectful saiko-komons and two personal bodyguards, the other people in the room included a hotel manager, a waiter, and a chef. The chef, outfitted in spotless white with a tall, highly starched toque, was standing patiently in the middle of a U-shaped dining table with a built-in grill. The table was at the far end of the narrow room near the window. Out the window stretched a dramatic sweeping view of Osaka Bay with the Port of Kobe in the foreground.
After the typical, ritualized greeting and exchange of business cards, Hiroshi gestured for his two guests to take seats in the seating area near the room’s entrance, just beyond the private lavatory. As Hisayuki stepped over to one of the chairs, he could not help but take note that Hiroshi did not make a point of bowing slightly lower than he, which was traditional, since Hisayuki was clearly the more senior in age. Hisayuki wondered if the slight was deliberate or accidental, and if deliberate, if it was a sign of disrespect or merely a subtle statement that Hiroshi did not consider himself bound by the same old Yakuza cultural rules.
“This is a most pleasant surprise, Ishii-san,” Hiroshi said once the four men were seated and had ordered their personal favorite brand of Scotch whiskey. The four bodyguards faded to opposite sides of the room, glaring at one another.
“Thank you for agreeing to see us under such short notice, Fukazawa-san,” Hisayuki said with yet another slight bow.
“It is good to see you looking so well. It has been too long since we were together, my friend.”
“It was more than a year. We should not be so lax. It is, after all, less than fifty miles that separates us.”
The pleasantries continued until the waiter brought out their respective scotches. When the waiter withdrew, the tone changed. It wasn’t marked, but it was real. “What is it that we can do for the oyabun of the Aizukotetsu-kai?” Hiroshi asked with a more clipped style and impatient tone than he had used earlier.
Hisayuki cleared his throat and hesitated as if he’d waited until that very moment to decide what it was he wanted to say. “Several days ago — three, to be exact — I was called to Tokyo to meet with Daijin Kenichi Fujiwara-san.”
“The vice minister Fujiwara?” Hiroshi questioned with muted surprise. He shot a quick glance toward his saiko-komon and got a slight shrug of the man’s shoulders in return, suggesting that he was equally surprised. A government meeting at the ministerial level with a Yakuza oyabun was something akin to a blue moon.
“Exactly! The vice minister of Economy, Trade, and Industry,” Hisayuki said. He leaned forward and made direct eye contact with his host. He knew he had the man’s full attention. “The vice minister told me a number of surprising and disturbing things that we need to talk about. First, he told me that the Yamaguchi-gumi had been behind the break-in of a laboratory at Kyoto University, where there had been a death. I’m sure you have heard about it. At the same incident, some important laboratory books had been stolen, an issue you might not have heard about, since it was not reported to the media. The government is concerned about these laboratory books, as they have put in jeopardy the legitimacy of Kyoto University’s patents on iPS technology. ”
Hiroshi sat back and took a sip of his scotch while returning Hisayuki’s stare. It was obvious he was taken aback by the candor of Hisayuki’s remarks even more than the content, although the content surprised him, too. The media had not named the Yamaguchi-gumi specifically, just that the break-in had been a Yakuza event.
“My concern is whether you personally were aware of this break-in. Perhaps it was the doings of one of the Yamaguchi splinter groups? We all know that the Yamaguchi is expanding quickly, which might mean that there is not the same internal cohesion as with the rest of us.” Hisayuki wanted to provide an out for his rival, but the effort was ineffectual. Hiroshi’s expression clouded.
“We subscribe to the same oyabun-kobun sworn brotherhood structure as everyone else,” Hiroshi stated with some indignation. “I am the oyabun of the Yamaguchi-gumi. I know what my brotherhood is doing in all respects.”
“My comments are not intended to disparage the Yamaguchi-gumi in any way. We all have great respect for the Yamaguchi-gumi, perhaps even a bit of envy for your recent successes. But I take your response to mean that you, personally, were aware of the break-in. If that is the case, I must formally complain that you did not inform me of what you were doing nor ask me to help. We Yakuza have, over the years, adhered to this policy of cooperation to avoid turf wars, and I would like to be assured that in the future you will contact me if you have needs in the Kyoto area. I don’t mean this to be a serious confrontation, and I hope it isn’t. We just need to maintain respect between our organizations, as has been the case over the years among all the Yakuza.”
“We Yamaguchi have the utmost respect for the Aizukotetsu-kai,” Hiroshi said without changing his expression.
As a realist, Hisayuki knew that Hiroshi’s response skirted rather than faced the issue. There was no apology implied, but Hisayuki was content to take the response as the first step toward a solution. As close as Kobe and Kyoto were physically, it was imperative that the problem be recognized, and at least now it had been formally broached.
Moving on to the next issue — namely, the very real threat to the Aizukotetsu-kai portfolio from the Yamaguchi-gumi action — Hisayuki said, “If I may ask, why did you, as the oyabun of the Yamaguchi-gumi, want the lab books from the Kyoto University laboratory, and why did you help their owner and his family defect to America? Didn’t you realize it was against our government’s interests, meaning all our interests as Japanese citizens, and especially those citizens who have invested in the Japanese start-up company iPS Patent Japan?”