"Yakuza are generally annoyed by the term 'violence group,' since violence can apply to any crime, but it's no surprise they've been termed such when they engage in things like blackmail, extortion, fraud to murder, et cetera. Yakuza leadership is run in a hierarchical order, and the organization demands complete and total devotion from all its members—initiations require incoming members to cut off their little finger to show their dedication. In 2005, there were over 86,000 known members of the Yakuza organization."
"Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…" The class giggled and snickered as Hana lay sprawled over her arms, mouth slightly ajar while her snore filled the air.
The teacher sighed and turned his head robotically toward her window seat. "Yamada-chan."
"Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…"
He stretched his fingers, cracking his knuckles, and patted Hana's head. "Yamada-chan."
Hana blinked sleepily and lifted her head enough to make eye contact. His face was wide and square, but even in his mid-forties he could still pull off a handsome stare beneath his ruffled light brown locks. He had a certain swagger about him, and most of the students liked it, which was why so many signed up for his class. She smiled despite his dark look. "Sensei?"
"If you're going to sleep, Yamada-chan, maybe you should stop coming to class and stay in bed."
"Don't be silly, sensei. If I miss too many classes, I'll get kicked out." She smiled goofily and laid her head back down. "But I have to get at least six hours of sleep; otherwise I'll doze off in my photography and film class. Sorry, Takaguchi-sensei, but it's an absolute must—"
Suddenly, Hana felt claw-like fingers clasped firmly around her neck, and he shook her rapidly back and forth. "Then get your sleep at home and not in the damn classrooooom! Do you think I'm just going to put up with this every day? HUH?"
"Can't—breathe—"
"Just a little asphyxiation to help you sleep, you damn slacker!"
Hana rubbed absently at her neck as she walked campus. Way for Takaguchi to overreact. It wasn't like she disrupted anything important. Why did they honestly need to know anything about Yakuza? Was the school planning to recruit for the Yaks after graduation? No? Then who gave a shit? She pouted her lip and continued massaging. "Yarō," she mumbled under her breath.
"Well, well, well," a voice weaved through the air straight into Hana's spine, stopping her dead. The speaker was a fellow freshman girl dressed to kill in hip-hugger jeans and black pumps. Her long, dyed, dirty blonde hair hung in curls over her shoulders and down her slender back. She approached the immobile Hana with a sly grin. "If it isn't the infamous Sleeping Beauty."
Hana's fingers subconsciously coiled into fists, but she somehow kept her voice even. "Asako-chan."
Asako placed her hands strategically on her curvy hips. Everything she did, she did like she posed for a camera. "I heard you still haven't submitted your piece for the competition. Not getting cold feet, are you?"
Hana forced a smile. "Perfection takes time."
Asako lifted her eyebrows sarcastically. "Are you photoshopping?" Two girls flanking her laughed, but, though their reaction made her smile victoriously, it was apparent she didn't need their reinforcement to feel triumphant. Hana didn't respond.
"Let me make things clear for you, Hana-chan. Suffer no delusions, I will win this competition, and when my work is displayed in the gallery, I'll have my father make certain that your work is never seen again." She titled her head sweetly. "Ever."
