Authors Note:
I love the Yakuza Series. I love its wackiness, its seriousness, how it's tone varies to cover so many topics and subjects. From the myth of the neighbourhood Yakuza clashing with the brutal criminal reality, from Karoake to gang wars.
But for such a diverse cast, despite its recent upswing in popularity, there is a suprising lack of fics covering the setting. Though this is early days and I have a notable lack of time to invest in this, meaning updates will have to be when and where I can, if those who wish to write substories within this slowly uncovering alternate timeline ranging from the serious to the weird and wacky, I will happily threadmark them as sidestories if fitting with my alt-canon or apocrypha if its unfortunately conflicting with my planned main storyline, but of quality enough that they shouldn't be overlooked.
Yakuza: Dragon Gate
I'll let you in on a little something, the Yakuza game, it's not like boxing. The man who gets down isn't the loser. The guy who can't tough it out to the end, he's the one who loses. Eh? Don't you think? In the Yakuza life there are no KO's
December 20th
1999
Sunflower Orphanage
Kanto
It was raining, the short lived december day brought to a swift end by the chilly winter weather. In the yard children raised indoors, screaming in delight and shock as icy cold droplets began to lash at the walls of their home, uncaring of what games had been played or what activities had been planned. Nishikiyama supposed nature was uncaring like that. It did what it had to, just like that bastard old man.
Bringing his cigarette to his lips, he found it's end smouldering, what passed for embers of life now quenched by an errant collection of droplets forming on the wooden railing he had been resting his hands on. And now it seemed his day was that bit worse. Another similarity between Kazama-san and the very forces of nature. Both seemed to take the role of god and piss over what few things he could still hope for.
So he continued sitting on the porch's wooden bench to spite them both, the ex-yakuza in a white suit half a decade out of fashion, short cropped hair slowly growing back out from his scalp with a ruined cigarette in one hand, the other tightened into a fist as though ready to throw down with the heavens themselves as the storm clouds grew heavier.
With another rumble from the clouds above, the deluge of rain continued to thunder down onto Sunflower Orphanage's wooden walls. With a grunt of annoyance, Nishiki exhaled a cloud of smoke and flicked his now ruined cigarette to the floor and crushed it beneath the heel of his black leather shoes.
Water splashed upwards from the puddle, staining his white pants with brown, muddy water. The beginning of a curse exited his mouth as the door to the orphanage's porch opened, the pale face of a young woman peering out as she shielded her face from the cold winter air with a slender delicate hand.
"Akira-Nii, what are you doing out in this weather?" She asked, huffing in annoyance as she noticed the contents of the puddle he was now standing in. "You better not be smoking in front of the kids again. You'll be teaching them bad habits and it makes you stink."
"Yuko-chan!" Nishiki stuttered, shifting in place to keep the cigarette underfoot, even as the wind battered more rain into his back, soaking into his clothes and plastering his hair to his scalp. "I was just.."
"Brooding? Lying to your sister? Hmmmm?" asked Yuko, arms crossing over her chest as she narrowed her eyes. With her hair tied back, she reminded Nishiki of the old matron Kazama-san had tasked with looking after the place back when they were both children.
The old harpy still scared him even though she had now become a mellowed out old granny and he really didn't like feeling the same sensation of impending doom his baby sister was giving him right now.
"No?" He answered weakly, giving her an equally weak attempt at an innocent smile.
"You know, I would have thought prison would have made you a better liar Nii-san." Yuko muttered, voice trailing off before she huffed in irritation. "Well at least it's one bad habit you won't be teaching to Haruka-chan. It's her bedtime and you know she won't go to sleep without a story from her Uncle Nishiki."
Her face twisted into an expression Nishiki didn't quite recognise, but certainly didn't like seeing on his sister's face before being replaced with her usual exasperated fondness. "Just make sure it's nothing violent. None of that Yakuza business here. I left you some books to read to her next to her bed."
"Haruka's just a kid. She doesn't even understand what the Yakuza even is." said Nishiki, accepting the offered towel as he entered the building from the now soaked porch.
"That's not the point and you know it." Yuko retorted. "I've seen what it's done to you and Kazama-san and… well, all of you. I don't want her having to grow up with it as well."
Nishiki sighed, suddenly so very tired as he met his sibling's pleading gaze. "Trust me Yuko, it's the last thing I want either of you involved with as well." Giving her a weary smile, he continued, as much to dispel his dark thoughts as much as the awkward silence between them.
"So tell me about where my adorably cute niece is hiding today?"
"I would suggest checking in the wardrobe this time. She's beginning to learn you can see her under the bed when her feet stick out of the bottom."
It took the better part of an hour to wrangle the three year old into agreeing that she was indeed tired and no longer needed yet another story, a glass of water and that any monsters who were hiding in the shadows of her room were cowardly creatures, driven away by the mighty heroes of Haruka and her sidekick, Uncle Nishiki.
But as the young girl slumbered away in dreamland, wrapped up in her blanket and silence of the night crept in, only broken up by the snoring of the other children residing at Sunflower, Nishiki felt a profound sense of pride in his accomplishment. Even even if it left him tired enough to sleep like the dead.
Convincing debtors to pay back their loans was less work than handling children. But Haruka was family and he found it hard to deny the little girl anything. Though privately he was probably going to have a lengthy talk with whoever the father was, he thought to himself.
But for now Yuko was refusing to even mention anything about the bastard who knocked her up and it was far too early to press her for information. He'd burned enough bridges with his loved ones already.
Moving into the living room, he sat down into the old leatherbound chair that Kazama used to sit in as he and Kiryu told him about their day, letting his hands drift over its well worn surface.
He could feel the break in the surface where he and Kiryu had attempted to carve their names into the side. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the pain from the spanking the Headmistress of Sunflower had given them. But Kazama barely even commented on their vandalism.
He hadn't even had it fixed and if you had taken a proper look into his eyes that day, you could have sworn there was amusement lurking behind the Yakuza officer's judging expression. But he knew it wasn't directed at him. It was always Kiryu who was looked to as the son instead of a ward. Not as a responsibility but a blessing.
Dispelling his memories of the past, he flicked through the channels of the relic of a TV, most of it late night junk or advertisements for the holidays. Trash, trash and yet more trash. At least it seemed some things never changed.
Turning off the power, the screen flickered with hazy static before vanishing into blackness, leaving Nishiki to slowly settle in his seat and close his eyes, if only for a moment.
There was blood on the floor.
On his clothes.
On Yumi. Oh God Yumi...
Why was Kiryu there?
What had taken him so long?
Why did the body on the floor suddenly seem so underwhelming?
The cell was small and cold, but it was empty. He was alone but perhaps that was for the best.
The stitching on the cut to his side said so. It was healing well, but it was clear that he was clearly not forgotten, even if he was exiled to this prison.
Hugging the threadbare blanket to himself, he held the letter close to the bars of his cell, reading the kanji again to confirm the horror of its contents.
"I'm sorry Nishikiyama. Yumi is missing."
"This life isn't for you Nishikiyama." Said Kazama, the old man's expression revealing nothing to him of his inner thoughts.
"I don't understand." Said Nishiki. Sure there had to be some repercussions, but if he couldn't make it right, atone for what he had done, then what else was there for him?
"I know you don't and that's my fault. I shouldn't have let you join me. I failed you. I failed all of you and I'll never make that right. Go home to your sister and live your life far, far from here. You have no place in this world."
Nishiki didn't know how long he knelt in the dirt of Sunflowers yard, eyes clenched shut with tears.
All he knew was when he opened them, the old man had long since departed.
"No offense Nii-san, but you look terrible." said Yuko as her older brother slowly stumbled into the kitchen.
It wasn't a small room, but it was rather cramped, filled with both sides with the various cupboards and devices needed to feed and care for a building filled with growing children. If nothing else, the orphanage's sponsor made sure it was well funded, even if some of it's equipment was getting old and in need of replacements.
In her hands she held a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Without a word she set it down and began making another, which Nishiki gratefully accepted.
"I feel it too." he said between sips, nursing the cup in his hand as he let it's warmth settle into his body.
"You know if the chair isn't comfortable we can always make you a fresh bed. We have a few empty ones just in case we get any new arrivals." suggested Yuko, holding her own mug to her lips.
"It's fine Yuko. I won't be here long. Just until I get myself settled." He replied more curtly than he wanted, growing annoyed at his embarrassment over the outburst. "I'll be out of your hair soon enough. I won't be a burden if I can help it."
"Oh Nishiki." Yuko's hand found itself on his face, cupping his cheek as his sister looked at him with pitying eyes. If she was anyone else, he'd hate her for that look. "You're not a burden. The children, Haruka included love you and we're always in need of staff here. The kids are alot to handle with just myself and Suenaga."
"What if it's not for me, all of this. What if I need to do something different? Prove that I can.."
"Prove what? You aren't involved in that business anymore. If you really want a different job, have you considered asking Kazama-san? I'm sure he can find you something. If not him, why not call Kiryu? You know he'd move heaven and earth for you. He'd do it for any of us."
Nishiki hesitated, before pressing on. "You know why not. I..I can't put him in a difficult situation. It wouldn't be fair on him." And he couldn't let himself be that person, the one who came running to Kiryu whenever there was hardship and trouble. He needed to be depended on, to be his brother's equal, not a subordinate.
"Like the Dragon of Dojima would care about the mutterings of a bunch of old men and scum. The bastard deserved what you did to him, for so much, including what he did to Yumi." Yuko said, scowling at the memory of the late Dojima Sohei.
Something crashed outside the kitchen with a rattle of metal against metal. "Great, the trash cans have fallen over again." said Yuko rolling her eyes. "I swear, it's either pests or the storm and it's always me who has to sort it out in the morning."
"Then you're lucky I'm here Yuko-chan." Nishiki replied with a grin, happy to change the subject. "Don't fear. Big bro Akira is here to deal with whatever Tanuki is cursing you."
"My hero." Yuko replied dryly. "Well, if you are determined to soak yourself in the rain, make sure to get everything. I don't want one of the children finding something sharp that you missed in the dark."
"Your concern is heartwarming." Nishiki said, unlatching the door and stepping out into the night. The rain at least, had ceased, though the sudden rush of wind chilled him to the bone. Breathing on his hands for warmth, Nishiki began to feel his way along the wall, flinching at the feel of the cold, wet moss that stuck to his fingers. He was going to need a bath after this. Perhaps even a change of clothes, though he was pretty sure he'd left the majority of his outfits back in his apartment in Kamurocho. If the apartment even still existed.
Creeping through the dark, he let his eyes readjust as the light of the stars began to let him navigate a path to the side of Sunflower's yard.
Hearing voices ahead, he crouched low, face wrinkling in discomfort as his knee sunk into the mud, ruining his pants further. With care, Nishiki kept himself close to the wall, seeking shelter in the shadow of the building as he moved closer to the figures in the dark.
"Fucking traitors gonna get whats coming to them."
"Ain't this an orphanage? Seems a bit scummy going after kids."
"It's a Kazama family orphanage. It's where he makes his little monsters like the Dragon of Dojima, ain't it? So it's a legit target. Besides, traitors don't get to be played nice with."
"Shut it, both of you. Get those molotovs lit and let's get this done."
"Yes Aniki."
Realising this was as far as he could let it get, Nishiki stepped out of his hiding spot, revealing himself to the intruders.
"Oi-oi, who are you people and what are you doing here?" He demanded, glaring at the three men. They were all in cheap shirts and pants and though he didn't recognise their faces, he knew the type. He used to be one of them after all.
"You know better than to mess with civilians, especially in the dead of night. Get lost and don't come back." he said, growing angry. What the hell were these scum doing here? This was under Kazama's protection and it was an orphanage for pity's sake. It was as far from Yakuza business as you could get!
"Well, well boys. Looks like we got ourselves a hero." said the trio's leader, an asshole with a broken nose that had poorly been reset and a blue shirt. "I'll tell you what, because I'm so generous. Get on your knees and beg and I might just let you and the kiddies get a head start before I burn this place to the ground."
Chuckling at his offer, the intruder looked over his shoulder to his men, who joined in the laughter at his joke. It was probably why he didn't see Nishiki take a step forwards and swing the punch that broke his nose again, hurtling the yakuza to the floor and sending him skidding along the yard.
The puddles splashed at the impact of a body against it, coating Nishiki and the two remaining thugs with dirty water. Looking at one another, they charged him with an angry yell, fists swinging wildly with more enthusiasm than skill. But Nishiki might have grown dull in prison, slower, but he could still remember the lessons learnt from his youth and with a handful of heartbeats, they too were flung bodily onto their leader, motionless and in pain.
Grabbing the lead thug by the collar, Nishiki pulled him up, fists held up as he glared at the man. "Why are you here. Who sent you?"
"Fuck you traitor." The man burbled, spitting blood through broken teeth, the blood splattering onto his clan pin. "Tell Kazama that the Tojo Clan sends its regards."
"The Tojo clan?" Nishiki asked in shock. "Why are the Tojo clan attacking Kazama-san?" He demanded again, shaking the man, but he had already slipped into unconsciousness, leaving Nishiki with only more questions. From the kitchen he could already hear the shocked yell of his sister as she clutched at the phone, dialling the police.
There was only one place he could get the answers he needed.
He needed to return to Kamurocho. He needed to talk to Kiryu.
Looking at his now ruined suit, its pristine white now grey and brown it was also clear that he needed a new set of clothes.
