The Naked Blood of the Cherry Blossoms

by Kano Ishikawa

  Mi-Chan stayed in the Yam’ichi, Sakamoto arranged new clothes, and a headscarf added to her disguise. At night, she slept rough in different vendors’ stalls, as did many of the tenants. For protection, and use only in a dire emergency, Sakamoto lent her a US army pistol. As much as she trusted Sakamoto, Mi-Chan had not revealed any details of her rape. It was one secret too many. The weapon gave her a sense of added security.

  By day Mi-Chan worked in the Hachiman community kitchen for vendors and passers-by.

  The thin miso soup with its meagre dashing of radish and scallion, served alongside a cup of rice blended with barley, could not have been a starker contrast to the wide fare of meats, eggs and fruit available at the Rokko Garden.

  Yet Mi-Chan’s impression was patrons at the community kitchen were more grateful for the food than the American officers, almost all of whom had never experienced hardship.

  Mi-Chan calmed down and began to feel more secure. However, working at the community kitchen was not a long term solution for Mi-Chan nor Sakamoto. A plan had to be developed.

  The idea arose when ‘pass the hat’ day arrived. The Hachiman stuck to their routine of rallying funds for Peace Bridge, typically accompanied by one of the Sisters. Sakamoto had not forgotten the plight of the mixed race infants, whose number continued to increase. After the collection had finished, he spoke to Mi-Chan.

  “Mi-Chan, I have an idea for a longer term solution, which provides more security and credibility. It is just a matter of time before the authorities come looking here, please hear me out.”

  Sakamoto suspected that if the police had arrested Meiyu-kai members, their search for rioters would soon turn to the Yam’ichi. Sakamoto knew that if the authorities found copies of Akahata, and he knew some tenants supported its ideals, they all would be the subject of great scrutiny.

  “As you know there are an ever increasing number of multiracial children abandoned at Peace Bridge, and if you were to become ‘mother’ for one of them, it will make the authorities less suspicious.” He paused. “Plus it means you are helping someone who has a greater need than you.”

  The last sentence made Mi-Chan think deeply. Her feelings of sorrow for these infants had not been diminished in any way.

  “How would it work?” she said after a while.

  “Well I would need to discuss with Peace Bridge. My idea is you will stay there as a homeless mother, caring for these young infants, for a period of nine to twelve months. We will not tell Peace Bridge about your real name or background. We will change your identity and ask Peace Bridge to vouch for you.”

  Mi-Chan saw the idea’s appeal. “It will also mean I can stay in the area, though I imagine it will be difficult to see my family that much,” she paused. “It’s a big decision. Can you let me think about and let’s talk tomorrow morning please?”

  Mi-Chan went back to the community kitchen and worked into the evening, her mind debating Sakamoto’s proposal. Around nine o’clock, after they had finished up, a woman dressed drably in a long skirt appeared. She wore a wide brimmed hat which almost covered her eyes. Mi-Chan thought that she looked familiar.

  “Mi-Chan,” said the voice, “it’s Hana.”

  Mi-Chan was taken aback. She had not expected to see Hana again, and certainly not at the Yam’ichi.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Mi-Chan. Hana did not reply and discretely beckoned Mi-Chan to follow. They walked to the station and stood with their backs against a wall facing the ebb and flow of passengers.

  “Are you Ok?” asked Hana, “I heard you were in the demonstration and even went into the Governor’s office.”

  Mi-Chan was shocked, how did Hana know such details? So she asked.

  “I can’t tell you,” replied Hana, “what I can say is that you are in great danger here, which is why I came tonight. You must flee!” she said forcefully looking at Mi-Chan intently.

  “To where?” asked Mi-Chan.

  “I will tell you later,” replied Hana, “we have to go now!”

  Mi-Chan could not quite believe what she was hearing. Her world, temporarily calmed in the Yam’ichi, had turned into turmoil again!

  Mi-Chan dragged her heels saying she had to think.

  Hana turned to her. “You just have to trust me Mi-Chan! You trusted me over Jared. I told you about the Korean school closures before they happened. I know that you were in the Governor’s office, and so do the authorities.” She looked at Mi-Chan. “The police are looking for you and will be here soon.” She paused, “if you hesitate you will put all of us behind Akahata in danger. You just have to come with me. Now!”

  Hana produced two rail tickets, and they were gone.

  the probe

  Hana’s harbinger of a raid on the Yam’ichi was exact. It was a large scale manoeuvre, involving over 500 soldiers plus local and military police. The swoop began at ten the following morning, when most vendors had set up stalls and were most likely to be on site.

  It was well planned, all entrances and exits, including those at the railway station were cordoned off before squads of troops entered the Yam’ichi. There had clearly been a large number of undercover officers monitoring the market for days. Specific individuals were targeted and questioned. Sakamoto was one of them.

  He was searched, disarmed of his Wakizashi and a pistol, and driven off in an American army jeep, accompanied by three soldiers. It was a short journey to Yodoyabashi, where he was met by two policemen, a Chief Inspector and Sergeant, plus an American army officer of Japanese heritage.

  Besides a wooden table, three chairs and a wall clock, the meeting room was completely bare and window less. The interview began at midday, and started with preliminary questions about his identity and involvement in the Yam’ichi. It was led by the Chief Inspector.

  “Sakamoto, when you were arrested, my men discovered a sword and an American army issue pistol. Are you aware these weapons are illegal?”

  “I am aware of that,” admitted Sakamoto. It was undeniable.

  “Take a note of that,” said the Chief Inspector to the Sergeant. “You will be charged with illegal possession of a weapon. However, that is not the main reason why you are here.” He paused and wiped his brow. “What can you tell us about communist sympathisers operating in the Yam’ichi?”

  It was a perplexing question. “I’m not aware of any ‘communist sympathisers’ as you describe them. I am aware of many right wing Yakuza and other thugs who prey on the weak and vulnerable.” He looked at the Chief Inspector, “that is why I am armed actually. Now is that who you mean?”

  The Chief Inspector showed no emotion. “We are mindful of those villains. No, I am asking about people who are advocating an overthrow of the government. People who have sympathies to the Soviets. Have you seen any of this in your Hachiman community?”

  It seemed the police had done some preparation.

  “No one has expressed those views to me personally,” replied Sakamoto.

  “I see,” said the Chief Inspector. “Are you aware of a newspaper called Akahata?” He produced a copy from his folder and showed it to Sakamoto.

  “Yes,” said Sakamoto, “I have heard there are some merchants who read this paper.”

  “Where do they get the newspaper from?” he asked, “it’s illegal.”

  “I don’t know,” replied Sakamoto.

  The Chief Inspector pursed his lips, “I see.” It wasn’t obvious whether he believed Sakamoto’s reply. He reached into his folder again and produced a black and white photograph. There were several people in the picture. In the foreground were two young Japanese women in ornate Kimono and four American officers holding drinks. In the background more Americans and what appeared to be a band. Everyone was smiling. “Do you see anyone here you recognise?” he continued.

  Sakamoto examined the picture for a few moments and put it down. It had been taken in the spring and was a Hanami party. Sakamoto wasn’t sure whether it was this year or maybe earlier. Mi-Chan was one of the wo
men in Kimono. He didn’t know any of the others.

  Sakamoto had to think fast. He bought time by picking up the picture and studying it again. Mi-Chan had vanished the night before. One of the Hachiman scouts had seen her heading to the station with a mysterious woman. She had not returned. No one had seen her that morning. It was very strange.

  “This is the only one that looks familiar, but I can’t be sure,” he said pointing at Mi-Chan.

  “Have you seen her in the Yam’ichi?” asked the Chief Inspector.

  “It’s possible,” admitted Sakamoto. “Yet certainly not wearing a high quality kimono like that.” He pointed at the photograph. The American Nissei officer, who until then had been impassive, suppressed a smile. Sakamoto continued, “there are thousands of people in the Yam’ichi. It’s impossible to remember everyone.”

  “So why do you think she is familiar?” asked the Chief Inspector.

  “Now that I see the photograph, it's possible she has links to the Americans, acquires goods and sells them on the Yam’ichi,” suggested Sakamoto. “But I can’t be sure. There are many people with connections to the Americans trading goods on the Yam’ichi. Why are you asking?”

  “We think she is involved in distributing Akahata, inciting violence and the overthrow of government.”

  Sakamoto noted the Chief Inspector did not mention the demonstration.

  Whilst Akahata’s communist rhetoric ran contrary to his own beliefs, he viewed the sudden crackdown on Korean schools as unacceptable. In addition Mi-Chan had never incited him nor the vendors to violence. To the contrary. He could not turn her in.

  From their questions, he had the impression the police lacked evidence and were hoping he would help. Sakamoto decided to cloud the situation further.

  “That sounds odd, why would someone who has links to American officers get involved in distributing a newspaper like this?”

  There was silence. Then the American Nissei took over the interview. “Sakamoto, do you recognise this officer here?” he pointed at the tall man with slicked back hair, cropped at the sides. The man was holding a cigarette.

  Sakamoto had never seen him. “No,” he replied truthfully, “it’s very unusual to see American officers in the Yam’ichi.” Sakamoto chose his words carefully. By contrast, it was very common to see American GIs in the Yam’ichi hawking all manner of goods. “Why do you ask?”

  The Nissei officer looked at Sakamoto. “Well firstly he was having an intimate relationship with the young lady.” He pointed at Mi-Chan. “And we have reason to believe he was supplying her, and others, with goods for racketeering." He slowed down, “and now he’s disappeared.”

  Sakamoto was taken aback. He knew that Mi-Chan was selling American chocolate but he didn’t believe the quantity was that big. It certainly wasn’t on the scale of some traders he knew. Sakamoto suddenly recalled Jun’s jibe about Mi-Chan being a Pan-Pan. Maybe she was much more than that? Would Mi-Chan be involved or even the cause of the officer’s disappearance? And if so why?

  It seemed impossible, but then why would she have vanished with a mysterious woman?

  The American locked eyes with Sakamoto, “we’d love to find him,” he said. “There’s even a reward for information that results in the arrest of this officer.”

  Sakamoto was released on police bail and returned to the Yam’ichi later that afternoon. As he was leaving, he noticed several missing persons’ signs at the police station, one was for an American officer named Jared Kenyon. The same person in the Nissei’s photograph.

  Sakamoto and the police were not the only ones investigating Mi-Chan’s disappearance.

  Atsugi also felt compelled to join the search. His mind was in torment. He was remorseful about revealing Eun Ae’s name to the police, and placing one of his most promising students, who was not an adult, under the sharp focus of the law enforcement microscope. In spite of what the Book of Proverbs said.

  Atsugi believed he had caused stress within the Taegi family, at a time when their mother was sick. Then there was the issue of financial security, without Mi-Chan the family was penniless.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, given the way the authorities were heading, Atsugi feared there would be mass deportations of Zainichi, most of whom were hard working and completely innocent. It was very feasible to see the whole Taegi family split asunder, perpetually separated.

  Finding Mi-Chan, someone he had never met, nor seen even in a photograph, made the task immeasurably harder.

  The only clue, were Eun Ae’s words. She had donated money to the Peace Bridge in Osaka.

  Two days after the raid, Atsugi went to Umeda looking for Peace Bridge.

  Osaka was a large city, and there were many places he could search, so beforehand he visited a newly opened library and spent time hunting through the newspapers for clues. By chance there was a brief article about the charity, explaining it was run by Catholic Jesuits. The article explained Peace Bridge was inundated with abandoned infants, most from impromptu liaisons between Japanese women and US soldiers. It gave an address for those wanting to donate food and clothes.

  He found the charity without any difficulty. Its front door was closed with a notice asking visitors to ring a bell for attention, which he pressed. A young Sister dressed in a black tunic, a cross hung prominently down from her neck, and her head covered with a cowl, came to meet him.

  She was holding a young baby girl who had big black eyes and a chuckling smile. Atsugi thought the girl was very pretty and reached out to hold her fingers. He recalled the newspaper article, its implications playing on his mind.

  “Peace be with you,” the Sister said simply, she looked busy, “how can we help?”

  “And also with you,” he replied. “This is a gift for the charity,” Atsugi handed over a donation of milk powder, I heard you have many young infants here.”

  “We do,” she said, “at the moment we have over 100 infants under eighteen months.”

  Atsugi decided to be brief, “I also wonder if you can help me?” he asked. “I’m looking for a young Korean Japanese lady, who I am sure donates money to your charity. Her name is Mi-Chan. I am her sister’s music teacher and I need to contact her. It is urgent.” Atsugi smiled at the Sister, “do you know who I mean?”

  The Sister’s blank look gave him the answer. “We have so many children here plus visitors, I honestly don’t know, I’m sorry,” she said. “Thank you for your donation, but I must go.” The baby was getting restless.

  “Just before you go,” said Atsugi, “I know she trades goods on the Yam’ichi and gives some of those takings to Peace Bridge, does that help?”

  The Sister thought for a moment. “Not really, the only suggestion I have is for you to ask for Papa-san in the Yam’ichi, he might be able to help.”

  “Who is Papa-san?” asked Atsugi.

  “I’m sorry,” the Sister put her hand over her mouth and smiled. “He is like our guardian angel, a modern day Takayama Ukon, his name is Sakamoto and he runs a cooperative in the Yam’ichi called Hachiman. If anyone knows, he will.”

  “Thank you very much, that’s very kind,” said Atsugi bowing, “and God bless.”

  The Sister closed the door taking the wriggling baby with her. Atsugi racked his brains, who was Takayama Ukon? Then he remembered. Takayama was an early Samurai who had converted to Christianity, and ultimately died in exile. It was an intriguing analogy.

  It was Atsugi’s first occasion to visit the Umeda Yam’ichi. The maze of shacks and stalls was eye opening. He thought finding Sakamoto amongst the herd of vendors was going to be hard.

  After an hour looking around, he came across an open air kitchen selling miso and rice, the kanji ‘Hachiman’ was on its signboard. He ordered some food, asked if Sakamoto was around, and was ordered to wait.

  Sakamoto was slightly shorter than Atsugi, wiry but no longer under nourished, as when he’d returned from the war. He walked purposefully, had a presence, and Atsugi instantly noticed the d
eference he was afforded by the community.

  However, he did not look like a saint. He carried a pistol thrust into his belt.

  Atsugi bowed politely and explained the reason for his visit. Sakamoto listened, but displayed no emotion nor acknowledged he knew anything of Mi-Chan or her family. When he spoke it was in a terse and typically direct Osaka manner.

  “Why do you think she may be here?” he asked.

  “Her family know she traded on this Yam’ichi, this was her main source of income. It would be the logical place for her to return,” said Atsugi.

  Sakamoto was suspicious. The police raid and his arrest were still fresh in his mind. It was obvious the authorities were using informers, and it was probable that this Atsugi was one of them. The coincidence was too great. He resolved to test Atsugi.

  “What school did the sister attend?”

  “Kongo Gakuen, a Zainichi school in Kobe, that has been suddenly closed.”

  “Why was it closed?” asked Sakamoto.

  “The authorities believed the school was promoting communism and radical thinking.”

  “Was that true?”

  “There were some teachers who had favourable views of communism, but they were not revolutionaries.” Atsugi went on. “After the closure, there was a demonstration, it turned violent and this Mi-Chan was involved, somehow, anyway now she’s disappeared.”

  “Was this Mi-Chan single?”

  “To my knowledge, yes,” replied Atsugi. He hesitated. The question made him wonder whether an unwanted baby was in any way involved?

  Although Sakamoto thought Atsugi’s story checked out, he couldn’t be sure. It was difficult to understand Atsugi’s motive for searching for someone he’d not met. He closed the conversation.

  “We haven’t seen her here, sorry.”

  Atsugi finished his soup. His trail had gone cold.

  the trail

  Autumn 1948

  The closure of the ethnic Korean schools in Osaka and Kobe was not an isolated incident. By October, the authorities had shut over 70 schools nationwide, believing they were a cause of radicalism.