Anapana Sati. It apparently meant "mindful breathing."
Nango's first assignment for him was to infiltrate a cult called Anapana Sati. It all happened one night, three years ago.
"Take one down."
That was what he was told that night, as Kuji and another lowly gopher were handed Makarovs.
Just the day before, one of the top brass in the Black Dragon Society had been shot by a member of the Ai Lan Company gang. The man had dropped by the entertainment district to collect protection money from the businesses in his territory. He had been sitting in his Toyota Celsior, counting bills, when he had been shot by a drive-by motorcycle.
A few hours later, bullets were fired into a number of Ai Lan Company offices. But a spat between gangs often did not end there. An eye for an eye - the books were balanced in blood. Those were the rules in gang society.
"I don't care who you take. Masa, you'd probably only get four years at best. Serve your time."
When you were told that in a gang, you had no choice but to go.
Kuji and the other gopher had been waiting to spring an ambush when they had been taken aside for routine questioning by a patrolling police officer. As a result, they were hauled in for violating the Sword and Firearms Control Law.
Kuji was taken to a separate police station. There, he was told to become an S. He was also told that he had no choice.
"An S? And what sort of information do you think I'd be able to glean about the Black Dragon Society?" Kuji had asked in the interrogation room. The Organized Crime detective had burst into laughter.
"We already know exactly what goes on inside those gangs. We don't need to hire an S to check things out. We scratch each other's backs. You should know this - you're one of them."
The detective was right. Kuji frequently heard from the second-in-command if there was a planned raid that night - of course, through an insider's tip. The police were satisfied as long as they could make a decent catch of criminals, and they backed off once they did.
And every time, the gang handed over a few guns. That was how they maintained their give-and-take relationship with those in Organized Crime.
"Public Safety wants you," the detective had told him. "No one knows what they're up to. They told us to give them someone, anyone - that they could use as an S. That was all we were told."
"What happens if I refuse?"
"Ask them," the Organized Crime detective had replied, saying nothing more.
Kuji was then taken to the Tokyo Detention Center, where he met Nango for the first time.
"Masatake Kuji," the man had begun. "Put into a juvenile detention center when you stabbed your father at age seventeen. Spent three years there. After getting out on parole, you were invited by a friend from prison and joined the Black Dragon Society."
Nango's research was surprisingly accurate. Even the smallest details of his time in juvenile were written in that report.
"What if I say no?"
"No one in this country stands a chance if they try to rebel against the state. I can get you hauled in for any crime. Violation of the Sword and Firearms Control Law. Obstruction of justice. Violent assault. Violation of the Road Traffic Law. Et cetera, et cetera. If the prosecutor's office files charges, there's a 90% chance that you'll be found guilty. Feel like going to prison again?"
"I'm not afraid of prison."
But Kuji still remembered the unmentionably heinous abuse and humiliation he had endured at the juvenile detention center.
"You know easily the prosecution's demand for a sentence can change," Nango continued. "The nation can keep you in jail for as long as they like. And a word from me will have you sent into the worst cell out of them. The warden, the inmates - they'll all do what I say and torture you. You also won't get any parole. Oh, and that's not it," he continued.
"Your mother is remarried, correct? Your younger sister and brother are with her. Your little brother is in twelfth grade. He's looking for somewhere to work after he graduates. Your little sister has a boyfriend. What do you think is gonna happen when they find out their big brother is in prison serving time because he's in a gang?"
Kuji suddenly understood. It hadn't started that night, after all; it had started the moment he had been born, and all this time he had paved the path that led him here.
Shiro Nango belonged to the second division of the Public Safety Foreign Affairs department, or the Sotoni for short.
"What's sotoni?"
That had been Kuji's first and final question.
"Short form for Foreign Affairs Second Division," Nango had said. "We deal with Russia and Asia; let's just put it that way. You should be proud, you hear? You're doing good for your homeland."
You must be fucking with me. A country like this deserves to wither and die, Kuji thought, but of course, he did not say so out loud.