Falling From the Floating World Read online

  For my family – old, new and extended

  With special thanks to Michael Gladstone, Takashi Hirata

  and The Great Britain Sasakawa Foundation

  for their generous support of this book

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  A Quick Note on Japanese Pronunciation

  Key Characters

  Japanese Words

  Part One

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Part Two

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Part Three

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Images

  Acknowledgements

  A Note on the Author

  Supporters

  Copyright

  A QUICK NOTE ON JAPANESE PRONUNCIATION

  There are a number of Japanese names and words scattered throughout this book. They are created from a base of five vowels:

  a as in cup

  i – we

  u – food

  e – egg

  o – off

  These are then partnered with consonants to make up an alphabet.

  Unlike in English, all syllables are pronounced distinctly and equally. Almost none are merged or made silent and there are no specified tones.

  So the name Tomoe would be pronounced:

  To as in tomato

  mo – mop

  e – egg

  Pronunciation is quite staccato. The exception is for long vowels which have almost the same pronunciation but are twice the length. They are denoted with a line above the vowel.

  So the name Chōshi would be pronounced:

  Chō as in honcho

  Shi – she

  KEY CHARACTERS

  Please note that Japanese names are read surname first

  Tokyo

  Ray Clarence

  Chōshi Tomoe – Ray’s girlfriend

  Takata Eiji – leader of the Takata-gumi gang

  Kurotaki – a senior member of Takata’s gang

  Sumida – a member of Takata’s gang

  The Beast – a strongman in the rival Ginzo-kai gang

  Knifeman – a strongman in the rival Ginzo-kai gang

  Yabu – head of the Tokyo branch of the Ginzo-kai

  Kōda – the intermediary between the yakuza heads and Onishi

  Onishi – the Education Minister

  Sakura – a soapland employee

  Horitoku – a traditional tattooist

  Ernesto Aerts – an ex-MMA star fallen on hard times

  Tatsuzan – a sumo-wrestling star

  Fujiwara Daisuke – an actor

  Johnny – Ray’s friend

  Ishikawa Manabu – a scientist

  Edo

  Katsuyama

  Michiko – Katsuyama’s apprentice

  Obasan – the overseer of Katsuyama’s house

  Lord Ezoe – a regular client of Katsuyama

  Lord Genpachi – a rival to Lord Ezoe

  Mizuno – an ex-samurai merchant ally of Lord Genpachi

  Yamaryū – a sumo-wrestling star

  Chitairō – an actor

  Kaoru – a courtesan rival to Katsuyama

  Namiji – Kaoru’s apprentice and a friend of Michiko

  JAPANESE WORDS

  ageya – a grand house where courtesans would meet their clients

  bakufu – shogunate officials

  daimyō – a lord from the Edo period

  fūzoku – the sex industry in Japan

  gaijin – literally ‘outside person’ – foreigner

  gaikokujin – ‘outside country person’ – a polite way of referring to foreigners

  horimono – a traditional Japanese tattoo (also known as irezumi)

  horishi – a traditional Japanese tattooist

  kumichō – the term of address used by yakuza to their boss

  mizu shōbai – literally ‘the water business’ – a term used to represent night-time entertainment establishments in Japan who operate on the edge of the law

  oyabun – a term of reference for a yakuza boss (this derives from the gang structure with a ‘father’ at the head of a family)

  sōkaiya – yakuza-linked groups who infiltrate legitimate businesses

  tayū – the highest rank of courtesan in the early Edo period

  ukiyo – the floating world

  ukiyo-e – pictures of the floating world

  Living only for the moment, savouring the pleasures of the moon, the snow, the cherry blossoms and the maple leaves; singing songs, drinking sake, and diverting ourselves just in floating, floating; unconcerned by imminent poverty, buoyant and carefree, like a gourd carried along with the river current: this is what we call ukiyo, the floating world.

  From Tales of the Floating World, Asai Ryōi, c.1665

  Fall: Move from a higher to a lower level, typically rapidly and without control.

  Oxford English Dictionary

  PART ONE

  ONE

  I was woken by someone pounding at my front door. I fumbled for my alarm clock. It read 3.15. I struggled up.

  It was Tomoe. Beautiful, immaculate Tomoe – now dishevelled, her hair tumbling down, mascara streaming down her face.

  ‘Tomoe, what’s wrong?’

  She collapsed in my arms. I led her to the sofa.

  ‘What’s the matter? Are you hurt?’

  ‘Just hold me.’

  I held her. After an hour she cried herself to sleep. It must have been another before I dropped off as I remember the birds starting to sing at first light. I woke with a start, sprawled across the sofa, alone. Anxiety started to rise in me but then the bathroom door opened and Tomoe glided out, swathed in the luxury white towels she insisted I kept. She greeted me with a sweet smile and a cheery ‘ohayō gozaimasu’.

  I’ve never been much of a morning person but there was more to this than being confused by slow wits.

  ‘Morning.’

  I waited for an explanation that didn’t come. Tomoe glanced over as she readied herself instead.

  ‘You can use the bathroom now, Ray-kun. I’ll put on my make-up out here.’

  I decided to dispense with the subtle approach.

  ‘Tomoe, what’s going on? You turned up in the middle of the night crying your eyes out. You can’t just act like nothing happened.’

  She paused and turned towards me.

  ‘I’m sorry, Rei-kun,’ she said, managing to lend Japanese pronunciation to a one-syllable word, as she did when playful or trying to win me round. ‘I didn’t mean to worry you. I just had a horrible day – I needed to be with you.’

  She unfolded her legs, leaned over and gave me the most tender of kisses. The matter apparently settled, she returned to her lipstick.

  ‘But I am worried. What made you so upset?’

  ‘It was nothing, really,’ she said, looking back up. ‘But I can’t talk while I’m doing my
make-up. Have a shower and we can speak over breakfast when I’m done.’

  When I came out of the shower she was gone.

  ‘Sorry, late, had to go. Will be away a few days. Reception bad so can’t call. Talk when back. Don’t worry! xoxo’

  I re-read the text. There was nothing I could do but wait.

  She reappeared a few days later, planting a huge kiss on my lips as she kicked off her shoes. ‘I missed you, babe!’

  Thirty immensely enjoyable minutes later she lay curled around me, her head snuggled into my chest.

  ‘Rei-kun, I need to ask you a favour.’

  ‘Anything,’ I murmured. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I need you to go to soapland.’

  *

  Japanese ‘soaplands’ are home to a specific type of bathhouse, popular since Edo times, where bathing was only a precursor to the main event. Their more stimulating services are made possible by exploiting a convenient loophole in Japan’s prostitution laws.

  Historically, the provision of sexual services was accepted in much the same way other leisure activities were. But in the aftermath of American occupation post-war, a more puritanical approach was half-heartedly adopted. Perhaps intentionally vague, work-arounds were quickly found for all forms of sexual activity other than intercourse.

  Soaplands managed to find a way around even this. They offered stimulating baths followed by exotic massages, but critically the establishment’s services ended there. Just as crucially, any of the inevitable activities then agreed by employee and customer were considered private arrangements between individuals and therefore not bound by the prostitution laws.

  I knew of men in relationships who had indulged in a soapland’s offerings. I’d never heard of any who had visited at their partner’s request.

  ‘What?’

  I turned to Tomoe trying to work out if this was a test.

  ‘I need you to go to soapland,’ she repeated.

  ‘Why would you want me to go to soapland? Girls normally don’t want their boyfriends to go there.’

  ‘This is different. I need you to go to a place called Matsubaya and see a girl called Sakura.’

  I was utterly confused.

  ‘But why? I’ve never even been to a pink salon when I was single.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘It’s true,’ I insisted. ‘There are some places back home but it’s not like here. Maybe we’re a bit more prudish about these things.’

  She seemed unable to comprehend this. ‘Not even a blow-job bar?’

  ‘Not even a massage with a happy ending.’

  She shook her head briefly, as though to clear the unfathomable concept from clouding her thoughts.

  ‘Well, this is your chance to start.’ She gave me a broad smile followed by a kiss. ‘It’s a chance to enjoy a new Japanese experience, ne?’

  I was now convinced this wasn’t a test.

  ‘Tomoe, what’s this all about?’

  She nestled her head back in my chest. When she looked up there were tears rolling down her face.

  ‘They killed my father.’

  TWO

  That I was in Japan wasn’t the result of a long-term life or career plan. The seeds of the move had been sown during what I thought was just another working day in London.

  ‘Ray, thanks for making the time,’ said Dave as he ushered me in. ‘Please, sit down.’

  I closed the glass door to his office and sat at the acrylic table. Opposite, a lap-top and iPhone gleamed from his desk in front of floor-to-ceiling windows. Advertising offices are as ubiquitous in their soulless chic as they are in the unique differentiators claimed on their identikit websites.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ I asked. ‘You seemed a bit stressed when I saw you earlier.’

  ‘Yes, yes, it’s all fine,’ he said. ‘Well, it is and it isn’t. We’re turning a corner with our finances but revenues are still a bit ropey and there are some tough decisions to be made before we’re out of the woods.’

  ‘That sounds ominous.’

  ‘Well, yes. I mean no. I mean … well … look, we’ve just had a board meeting and we have to do some restructuring. And …’

  His eyes roved the office beyond the glass wall, seeking escape from the task he was faced with. Failing to fit it, they settled back on me. ‘… and your team’s got the lowest profitability. And, well, it means we have to lose headcount.’

  My heart sank. Headcount. I’d never considered it an adequate way to describe the foundation on which a person’s hopes, dreams and dependencies are based. Especially now that person seemed to be me. As Dave went on it became clear this was a limited restructuring effort, one that was particularly ‘precise’.

  ‘Am I the only one being let go?’ I asked, too crestfallen to be angry.

  ‘Well, right at the moment, yes. Unfortunately, profitability on your account is the weakest in the group and we’ve had to make some tough decisions.’ Dave was prone to management-speak when under pressure.

  ‘But it’s only one decision, isn’t it? There aren’t any other changes being made?’ A thought flashed in my mind. ‘You’re not getting someone in to replace me are you?’

  ‘Ray, we can’t be sure what’s going to happen long-term on your part of the business …’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Look, from an HR and management point of view, I can assure you this is a restructure. You’re on three months’ notice. You’re going to get that plus another three, assuming you agree. But you can leave as soon as you’ve done your handover. That’s a pretty good settlement for a redundancy caused by the adverse economic climate.’

  He paused.

  ‘And, of course, that’s the truth. But if we were to meet as friends over a drink, I might tell you that you’re an extremely smart guy whose intelligence seems incompatible with advertising. You can beat me hands-down in a debate but you can’t land a campaign when everything’s been handed to you and I’ve got no idea why. But, assuming we were in that non-working environment talking as friends, I’d say you’re getting a great opportunity to sit back for six months and work out how to make the best use of your brain.’

  I slumped in the Charles Eames chair.

  ‘Didn’t you do Japanese Studies at uni? And you lived there too?’ Dave asked. ‘You always seemed fond of the place – you even speak the language, don’t you? Why not head back for a while?’

  It had seemed as good an idea as any as I tried to pick up the pieces.

  I met Tomoe in a bar which, if I was to believe my friend Johnny, meant the relationship should only have been good for a one-night stand. But it wasn’t that kind of bar and Tomoe wasn’t that kind of girl. In fact, she was the kind of girl I’d never have thought I stood a chance with. But our eyes had met and there had been enough in the look for me to summon the courage to talk to her. And somehow, out of all the men in Tokyo, she’d seemed to find something appealing in me.

  I should point out she wasn’t getting a dud – I’d entered my thirties in good enough shape to allow my mother some pride not solely based on maternal love. But Tomoe was special.

  She had these brown-black almond eyes that sparkled mischief and a smile that brightened your day. Her dress sense was faultless, accentuating the curves of her body in a way that was immaculate yet effortlessly cool. Then there was her lustrous, jet-black hair, which she tied with a white ribbon in an endless array of styles.

  But her looks were the least of her. She was a force of nature, with a devil-may-care attitude that left you helpless to resist her desires. It was balanced by the sweetest disposition that she subverted with a sense of humour that was boisterous yet feminine.

  She was almost too good to be true.

  We spent our first date tucked away in a restaurant gem in Nakameguro I would never have found for myself. Just as when we first met, I found Tomoe so gorgeous I got butterflies. And just as when we first met, she offset the effect by being completely unaware of it. I was
lured in by the melt of her eyes and had to hold myself back from touching the unblemished skin on a forearm or where her neck met the top of her chest. Watching her as she spoke, I lost lines of conversation to the thought of kissing her daydream-inducing lips.

  The date went well enough for us to have another, then another, and a flurry after that. There was no fixed pattern – we might meet in a high-end, high-rise restaurant in Ebisu one evening, before going to a rowdy izakaya bar in Ameyoko the next.

  Her sparkle and spark remained constants but they were the only things I could predict. Soft and caring when I turned up with a sprained ankle, she was equally spiky when a doorman questioned my suitability for a show – she only relented when he convinced her he’d been concerned I wouldn’t understand, his hurried apologies for not letting me demonstrate my Japanese slowly bringing her back from the boil. On other occasions she simply dazzled, whether sending currents of electricity sizzling through staid dance floors or bringing a sedate bar to life.

  I could never be sure which Tomoe I’d meet and whenever I thought I’d pinpointed her character she’d surprise me by revealing another side. The constant sense of discovery intrigued and excited me. And it made me thirst to find out more.

  It was on a trip to Ishigaki Island when we really clicked. Having spent time only on short dates so far, the long weekend let us get to know each other through relaxed conversation and the frenetic physicality that a new relationship charged by warm weather and skimpy clothing permits.

  It had been Tomoe’s suggestion to go and it had taken me by surprise – a sleepy island hadn’t seemed a fit for her big-city style. It was only we got there, both of us slopping around in T-shirts and shorts, that I realised the easy-going environment suited her best. With me a fair way from the suave sophisticate I’d thought she’d admire, the idea of us as a couple suddenly made more sense.