“No good. I met an interesting fellow, though.”
“Well, at least that’s something,” she said, smiling. He could see something lurking behind her smile, but he still chose to work with her for his own benefit.
“I suppose. Let’s end things here for tonight. Sorry for making you come with me this late.”
“Hey, don’t treat me like I’m some kind of child. I’m a proper woman of the Dove District. The night is still young for my kind.” She jokingly complained back, seeming to enjoy their banter.
Jinya looked down the cluttered street. Lust and greed; lecherous men and the women who tempted them. Raw, naked desire was always on full display in red-light districts, but one could also say they overflowed with a vitality unique to themselves. The Dove District was no exception, and that was why Jinya had felt a constant sense of unease ever since he arrived there.
To continue our story, we must first expand a little bit further on the history of the Dove District. Of the many burgeoning café districts, the Dove District was particularly popular and was even featured in various media, turning into something of a social phenomenon. It was often said that men who generally rode the Yamanote train line would go out of their way to make a pilgrimage to the après girls of the Dove District. The place only featured a handful of brothels directly after the war, but by the latter half of the Showa twenties, 108 establishments were all crammed into the fairly small part of town with over 300 sex workers in total.
But times changed. After the war, a rapidly rising awareness of women’s rights swept the nation, and prostitution was deemed a societal ill.
“Prostitution harms the dignity of the individual, is against sexual virtue, and disrupts the proper morals of society.”
The Japanese government passed the Prostitution Prevention Law in year thirty-one of the Showa era (1956 AD). In the name of protection and rehabilitation for sex workers, the café districts were ordered to suspend all business.
The law came into full effect in April of year thirty-three of the Showa era (1958 AD), and all in the industry were forced to find different paths. Many red-light districts vanished for good. Not even the newer café districts were safe. The Dove District suspended activity permanently on March 31st in year thirty-three of the Showa era. On the last day, they played Glow of the Firefly—a melancholic Japanese song that used the melody of Auld Lang Syne—as owners, sex workers, and patrons gathered to give the Dove District one last reluctant send-off.
It was currently April of Showa 34. By all accounts, the Dove District should have long ceased to exist.
“Is something wrong, Jin-san?” Aoba cocked her head, mystified as to why Jinya was staring at the neon lights. But he was the truly mystified one.
Why was Aoba here, claiming to be a lady of the night? And why did the Dove District still exist?
“Aoba…if I were to tell you the Dove District didn’t exist, would you believe me?”
“Ah ha ha, that again? You really like your jokes, don’t you?”
There was no point. She would just laugh off what he said. She saw nothing wrong with claiming to be a sex worker, nor anything unusual about the present situation.
It was unknown whether this was the work of Magatsume’s daughter or of something else entirely. At any rate, the information provided by Jingo had proved to be a hit. Jinya had his first worthwhile rumor to investigate in a long while.
“Oh, you’re that man…”
As he stood there, a woman called out to him. Hotaru, who had stepped out to see off a client, bowed her head gracefully.
“Thank you for your help the other night,” she said. “Are you on your way home?”
“I am.”
“I see. That’s a shame. I hope I’ll have your company next time.” She reached out and softly held his hand.
The manager had said she was one of their establishment’s most popular girls, and Jinya could see why. Her looks were fair, but more important than her physical attractiveness was her cunningness. Although she solicited herself to him, she did so without crudeness and maintained her wholesome image. She had the wiles to make one view her as something other than a sex worker. Rather than her body, she sold dreams one could lose themselves in. She was a proper lady of the night.
“If the opportunity arises, I would love to,” Jinya answered. This was the red-light district. Here, women used their wiles to ensnare men, but it was a man’s duty to play along and fall for the women and their sweet lies. He wouldn’t be so uncouth as to shake her hand off, not if he had any respect for that lady of the night he once knew.
The lively red-light district still felt odd to him, but he walked off into the night anyway, joined by Aoba. Hotaru watched them go, her thoughts unknown to them.
“Welcome to the Dove District. May you enjoy a pleasant dream here.”
Her faint voice reached him clearly, though.
In April of year thirty-three of the Showa era, the red-light districts all vanished. Only a mere decade after the war, their golden days became simply a memory. With the passage of the Prostitution Prevention Law, most brothels became apartments and lodging houses, the buildings living out their remaining lives as ordinary residences. They’ve weathered like you would expect over the half century leading up to the present Heisei era and scarcely bore a resemblance to what they were before.
The sights, old feelings, and even promises once sworn—all were swept away by time.
…But every now and then, I still thought back to the Dove District that couldn’t have possibly existed and the strange events that occurred within it.