Chapter Text
1981.11.15
To whom it may concern,
My name is Oh Sion, a Korean criminal psychologist who is investigating prison systems in an attempt to improve my own. An inmate at the Shirakawa Correctional Institute really gained my interest and I feel I can improve his behaviour and quality of life. I am requesting Tokuno Yūshi’s execution be postponed and eventually re-evaluated following my sessions. I understand this letter is at a later time than I would like, but I needed to meet with the person first.
Through information confided in me by Tokuno, which was through a daily controlled meeting at the prison starting from the 11th of November, has led me to believe he is innocent. The charges he faced when he was 14 years of age (7 years ago), with no representation, are false, and the justice that was carried out is also false. If you need a refresher, the charges are on the basis of being a Yakuza member, a very important one at that, and first degree murder of approximately 15 people. I strongly oppose these charges.
Tokuno Yushi was kidnapped and held against his will for a long time. Now, I'm not talking about his imprisonment, but an abusive family with strong ties to the Yakuza. They eventually framed him for the said murders and is the reason he is receiving the death penalty in 3 days. If he had any adoptive family, please look into that lead as it could save someone's life. I cannot access the original case as I am not law enforcement, so I cannot look into it further.
This province also doesn’t allow more to be covered in this letter, but if you would like to meet me to discuss more about it, please reach out. I should be at Shirakawa Correctional Institute from the hours of 9am to 5pm until the 20th of November. Please take this professional opinion into consideration and the justice that you serve. Urgently.
Thank you,
Oh Sion
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1981.11.20
I am writing this not to be published. Not even for most eyes to view, something too personal and intimate for people untrustworthy. Maybe for my future kids, their future kids, and so on. To learn the story that unravelled their ancestor, and wonder where abouts the lineage went wrong. But that isn’t relevant right now. The reason I'm writing is not for show. I suppose, it’s just my own personal experiences and the story of those who didn’t live long enough to tell their own. Just a reminder if someone is viewing this, it isn’t a happy story. Far from, in fact.
I am classified as a criminal psychologist and try to help the less fortunate in prisons. It’s tiring work, often resulting in small injuries, but I can’t imagine myself doing anything else. My work this story is based on begins in Japan. I’m currently travelling around comparing different prison systems to try and improve ours here in Korea. Not much has shown from this research however, as some of the prisons in China are far worse than our own. So I'm giving Japan a try. With my business partner, and friend, Kim Daeyoung.
Writing this on the train back to Tokyo, Daeyoung by my side, I think I should reflect. At 23 years old, I am uncertain. Uncertain of my future, uncertain if I can bring back to Korea what is needed. That isn’t my job, but the overcrowding and conditions are affecting the people I work with. So much so, I can’t get a straight answer out of any of them. But no matter. Perseverance is a virtue in times like these.
At this particular prison, which consists of younger offenders than the previous ones, I’ve met some interesting people. It’s not an ideal place to spend your time. Screaming and physical fights breaking out, multiple stabbings per day, extremely limited privacy, overall the most ungovernable place. But that is what I set out to discover, after all.
There was one person in particular I was interested in. He went by the name of Tokuno Yūshi to the government, but by the alias of Baby Blue to everybody else. At first I was unsure why. Someone who supposedly ruled the prison, who was known internationally as being deranged and fucked up somewhere, had such a cute nickname. He was also said to be a pretty big deal with the Yakuza, that’s one of the reasons he ended up there. But once I met with him the first time I could understand why rumours get so out of hand. The nickname lived up to its title, but something else told me the rest wasn’t true.
That is what this story is for, after all. Story, letter, doesn’t matter who it’s for (if anybody). It is something I need to get off my chest. Something I can’t live with by myself. Something I could never forgive myself for.
When I first met Yushi, he only had about a week left of his sentence. After that was up, he was to be hanged. I had spent a week before conducting other appointments with his peers, only a handful though. Going by the names of Maeda Riku, Hirose Ryo, and Fujinaga Sakuya. They had their own personal charms, which made talking to them easy.
Where Ryo was sort of quiet but very energetic, Sakuya was the complete opposite, giving me a complete synopsis of the dealings in this prison but deflecting his own story. Riku’s attitude was seductive in nature, and could be friends with anybody he thought of.
The four inmates are particularly close with one another, in their own ways, of course. Little things. Sometimes Riku would bring up how he and Yushi were friends and he’s actually a sweetheart, how Sakuya and Ryo loved teasing Riku, how Yushi cared for the younger ones as much as he was able. Little things. At first I wondered how they could all get along with clashing personalities and ideologies. Was it the forced proximity? The routine they would’ve had to follow for months to years with the same people? Or maybe it was less of a psychological subject, and more of something I could never understand fully unless I experience it. The bond between the incarcerated. Young adults such as myself are experiencing something far worse than I first imagined.
Both Daeyoung and myself broke the agreement that we made weeks ago; no personal relationships with the inmates at any of the locations. I don’t know what kind of relationship he had with Maeda Riku, but personally, that’s none of my business. If he is a homosexual, that’s also none of my business. I personally don’t swing that way.
Where was I? Ah yes, as I mentioned earlier, Yūshi only had 2 weeks left of his sentence when I arrived at the prison. I had heard things in passing about him – and was interested to speak to and get clarification from him. This turned out to be tougher than I imagined though, and everyday I would ask the guard to ask him. The answer was always no. Everyday. Osaki Shotaro, the guard who kindly enacted my requests, but had little hope for me.
“Why wouldn’t he want to speak to me? I just want to help him.” I would ask him.
But the other would just shake his head at me like I was missing some crucial information. Maybe I was. “He doesn’t want help. Not anymore. And even If you could, he’s a lost cause. Always has been.”
Maybe I was missing something.
But no matter what Shotaro thought, he trudged up those same steps to Yushi’s cell, then back down again once he refused. When I asked why again, he would repeat those words.
Monday was different though.
I had wondered aloud about when his execution date was. We started chatting about it, and at that point, it was 9 days away. Shotaro said to me, ever so quietly, that there was no way he could’ve committed that crime – well, crimes. They involved killing 15 people very brutally and affiliation with the Yakuza. Now, I never knew what to think at that point of time. But if a guard was saying that he was innocent, I would have to trust his word.
I asked around. I asked Riku, Ryo, and Sakuya. I asked a few more inmates, one of which I found out was Korean and American for some reason, named Lee Chanyoung. They all said the same thing. There was no way someone like Yushi could’ve done that.
Now I was really invested.
Tuesday was the same as the other days. It’s like the day before that never happened. Just ‘doesn’t want help, lost cause.’ Shit like that. How was I supposed to try and understand someone that didn’t want to be? I couldn’t.
But I wanted to keep going with my dream, no matter how silly it sounded. I’ve always had mixed responses when I said I wanted to improve the prison system. People thought I was looking for glory, to win a Nobel Peace Prize, or to become the President. But as selfish as they made it seem, I'm doing it for the glory of the people I treat. To help them rehabilitate. To help them gain families, have peace in their own mind, not just for my selfish ideologies. As self-serving as I can be sometimes. This endeavour was one of them.
Wednesday proved to be the turning point. I was about to give up, not even going to ask Shotaro to ask Yushi anymore. But when I walked in, looking at the conditions I had gotten used to over the week and a half, I was told he did want to see me. Yushi didn’t give a reason, but I could understand. His execution date was a week away – also consequently on Sakuya’s birthday. His 18th. Either the devil or the government could have made it that date, knowing full well. They are the same thing anyway. Especially in Japan
When I first met him, I could understand where the nickname came from. He had 2 different coloured eyes. One brown, and one the brightest blue I have ever seen. His blonde hair curled at the nape of his neck, looking up at me like I was his saviour or something. He was beautiful. A little worse for wear obviously, spending 7 years in prison and only being 21 wouldn’t look good on anyone. But god, was he beautiful. The cell itself wasn’t much. Very dark compared to outside, mould or despair settled happily in the air. His cell had no window which I found strange. It’s like they thought he was so dangerous, that he probably hasn’t seen the stars in forever. Probably hasn’t talked to an outside soul in forever.
He was the first to speak, a small voice. “You’re Sion, right? The psychologist?”
That sort of snapped me out of whatever that was, for some reason, I forgot we were here to talk.
“Yeah. Nice to meet you Yushi.” Was what I decided on. “Are you ready to have a chat? Shotaro said we’ll have to go downstairs.”
He thought for a moment, and it occurred to me that it may have been a long time since he was allowed out of the cell at all. But he just nodded, donning the look of a scared alley cat.
In the end, that was the main look about him for most of our time spent together.
I wrote about each day I had an appointment with him. This time, for more professional reasons. I wanted to understand his psyche. I wanted to get closer to him – I wasn’t sure why. It was this dramatic pull, I felt it in my soul. I’m not really religious (as such a disappointment to my mother), but I think I was supposed to be here. As some weird act from God.
I will stop writing here, as my hand is starting to cramp. The sun has almost set, the train rocking rhythmically. It is honestly such a beautiful thing – life is a beautiful thing. It is something we don’t appreciate often, usually focusing on wars and financial troubles and shit like that. Anyway, I’ll write tomorrow. Make this a daily thing I think. Again for nobody in particular, myself, someone who might be reading this in the future. If you are, tell me how it is. Did everything get better in the end? Hopefully. I’ll probably see it for myself, depending on how long I decide to live. For the most part that isn’t in my control, however.