Chapter 88: The Fierce Man, the Lavish Man

Kitano Takeshi was not a Yakuza member himself.
However, the positive impression he held of them came from his childhood experiences.

His father, a man from the lower rungs of society, often mingled with all sorts of people.
In his autobiography, Kitano wrote:
“When I was a child, tattooed uncles often came to my house to drink. They were loud and crude, but far more interesting than those boring salarymen.”

In the 1990s, Kitano Takeshi even had a good relationship with Inagawa Yuko, then-chairman of the Inagawa-kai.
He not only frequented Inagawa-kai establishments, but also participated in their charity events.

But the current Kitano Takeshi had yet to form such deep ties.
His understanding of the Yakuza was still mostly shaped by childhood memories and the stories he saw in the news…
And naturally, social news never painted the Yakuza in a good light.

Sitting in the Yamagami-gumi’s minibus, Kitano Takeshi trembled internally.
He felt as if there were pins under his seat, which made him stand out even more.

Seiko noticed Kitano Takeshi’s face—which had not yet become paralyzed—and suddenly thought of something.

She asked,
“Mr. Kitano, have you ever considered playing a police officer?”

“A police officer?”
Kitano Takeshi finally snapped out of the panicked haze of I’m doomed, I just ran into the real Yakuza.
After registering Seiko’s words, he scratched his head in embarrassment.

“I’m not suited for that kind of role. Just look at my face. It’s better for someone like Takakura Ken to play righteous characters.”

Kitano had a good relationship with Takakura Ken.
In Yasha, the film they had just mentioned, Takakura Ken played the lead while Kitano played a supporting male role.

“Not that kind of overly righteous police officer,” Seiko said. “But a sloppy, lecherous, rough, foul-mouthed rogue cop—like the protagonist of Boy’s Life, but grown up.”

Boy’s Life (also known as Naked Age) was an old film about teenage biker gangs—bosozoku.
They dropped out of school, stole, fought, formed groups—basically a mob of underage delinquents from post-war Japan’s lower class.

This was essentially the world Kitano Takeshi grew up in.
Naturally, the wild young Kitano had watched it.

“A rogue cop?”
Kitano imagined a police officer who had grown up as a bosozoku kid, and found the idea surprisingly interesting.

Then he realized something.
He hesitated, then jokingly asked,
“Is the Young Miss inviting me to make a movie?”

Seiko nodded immediately.

“My name is Yamagami Seiko. You can call me by my surname or by my first name. My sister is Yamagami Aiko—she’s starring in a drama called Mother that your wife has also watched. That drama was produced by our family’s company, Bubble Witch. Our main business is film production; TV dramas are secondary. We’re planning a movie with a police officer as the protagonist. If Mr. Kitano is willing, we hope you’ll play the lead role. The pay is not an issue.”

The “police-officer movie” Seiko mentioned did not actually exist in Bubble Witch’s current schedule.
She had only thought of Violent Cop because she happened to see Kitano Takeshi’s still-normal face.

Violent Cop was the film that propelled Kitano Takeshi to fame as a director.
Seiko wasn’t sure exactly when his facial paralysis began, but she knew that when he filmed Violent Cop, his face was still normal.
He even looked rather handsome in that film.

In her previous life, Seiko loved Violent Cop—its blunt, clean-cut violence had left a deep impression.
Since she had coincidentally run into Kitano Takeshi, and since he was not yet paralyzed, Seiko planned to have Bubble Witch “preemptively claim” Violent Cop.

As for plagiarizing the work right in front of its original creator?
Seiko felt zero guilt.

A police-protagonist movie filmed by the Yakuza…
Kitano Takeshi had no idea his future breakthrough film was about to be stolen away.

He only thought of another issue.

“Um… I might not be able to act in a movie that paints the police in a bad light.”

Seiko replied instantly,
“This absolutely won’t be a movie that smears the police. Some corrupt or negligent officers will appear, but the protagonist is a good cop with justice in his heart. The real villains are the evil gangsters and Yakuza.”

Kitano Takeshi’s mouth twitched.
A Yakuza princess saying “the Yakuza are the villains”…

“…I still need to discuss it with my agency,” he said.

His agency gave him a great deal of freedom; they wouldn’t object if he wanted to act in a film.
The truth was simply that he was hesitating.

Bubble Witch was an unknown small-time company.
And although he didn’t avoid the Yakuza like most people, it didn’t mean he wasn’t wary.

But Seiko didn’t seem to hear his refusal at all. She simply nodded and said,
“All right then, I’ll have someone send you the script later.”

Kitano opened his mouth.
Considering he was sitting in a Yamagami-gumi vehicle, he didn’t dare say, I might still refuse after reading it.
He worried that if he said that, he would no longer be sitting on a seat—he’d be stuffed in the trunk.

—

The car drove for another half hour and finally arrived at their destination.

The Hattori family lived in the countryside—not deep countryside, but the urban-rural outskirts of Kawagoe City.

The mourning hall had already been set up.
Judging by the number of cars parked outside, many guests had arrived.
But after Seiko and the others got out of the car, no member of the host family came out to greet them.

Seiko, Kitano Takeshi, and their group entered on their own.
Although some faces showed sadness, the overall atmosphere felt… odd.

At the mourning hall, the Kitano couple first bowed and paid their respects before the portrait, followed by Seiko and Aiko.

Seiko discreetly observed Otake’s husband, Hattori Seiji.
A handsome, artsy-looking young man.
Although he worked as a director, with a face like that, he could’ve debuted as an actor and played heartthrob roles.

The family member kneeling by the portrait returned their bow—but it was not Otake Shinobu.
Seiko found this increasingly strange.

The husband had died, so why wasn’t the wife receiving the bows?

After leaving the mourning hall, Seiko overheard Kitano Takeshi talking about it:

“Where is Otake-san? Why isn’t she here?”

The person he was speaking to happened to be someone Aiko knew.

“It’s Akashiya-san!” Aiko said excitedly.

Akashiya Sanma turned, saw Aiko, and gave her a warm smile.
“Ah, Aiko.”

“You two know each other?” Kitano Takeshi asked, surprised.

“Yes. Aiko is Otake Shinobu’s apprentice and also my dance teacher.”

As he spoke, Akashiya Sanma twisted his hips and mimicked Aiko’s signature hand-rolling dance move.

Crack-crackle…

Because Odoru Pompokorin was still wildly popular, Akashiya Sanma had tried to ride the wave.
He even performed the dance on his own variety show.

A man in his fifties doing Aiko’s cute dance on TV—it unexpectedly worked extremely well.
People watched Aiko for cuteness, and watched him for the bizarre novelty.

But both cuteness and absurdity brought ratings.

Aiko giggled and twisted her hips along with him, doing the hand-roll.

“All right, all right, stop dancing and talk properly.”
Kitano Takeshi really didn’t want to see his friend’s ridiculous posture.

He held Akashiya Sanma back and asked again,
“You still haven’t said it. Where did Otake Shinobu go?”

Neither of them had any personal connection to Hattori Seiji; they had come purely for Otake Shinobu’s sake.

“This…”
Akashiya Sanma hesitated for a long time.
Seeing that the people around were all insiders, he finally told the truth.

“Hattori Seiji died while drinking secretly after going out.”

“Cut the nonsense—tell us something we don’t know,” Kitano said impatiently.

Hattori Seiji had long been known for his alcoholism.
His liver was failing, yet he still refused to quit.
The obituary also listed drinking as the cause of death.

“He sneaked out to a female screenwriter’s house to drink…” Akashiya Sanma continued.
“And he drank himself to death in her home.”

Kitano Takeshi’s mouth opened a little.
Then he quickly reacted, showing an expression every man understood.

“Ohhhh~ Dying in such a romantic way!”

Seiko quickly covered the ears of the confused Aiko, wanting to say “ohhhh” herself.

Otake Shinobu had told them her husband was so ill he could barely get out of bed.
But apparently the man still had enough energy to have a secret tryst with a female screenwriter.