Casually meeting the Yakuza in Tokyo

That day, I stumbled upon a large group of Yakuza members and survived.

2 min read

I wasn’t supposed to be there.

That morning, I had planned to catch the legendary Sanja Matsuri festival in Tokyo’s Asakusa district. But after a long night of shooting, my body had other plans. I overslept. Badly. By the time I dragged myself out and got to Asakusa, it was already 4:30 p.m. The festival energy was still in the air, but the peak moments had passed. I figured I’d missed all the magic.

Still, I had my camera.

And that’s the thing about photography — it rewards those who show up, even when it feels like you’re too late.

I wandered the streets, a bit aimlessly, when I noticed a small crowd gathered around something. Or someone. Curious, I walked closer. That’s when I saw it — the tattoos. Full-body, intricate, stunning. These weren’t your average festival-goers. This was a group of Yakuza. And not just passing through — they were standing proudly, tattoos on full display, surrounded by people taking selfies and chatting with them.

Apparently, Sanja Matsuri is the one day a year when Yakuza openly join the festivities, showing off their body art in public. I had stumbled into a moment I didn’t even know existed.

Of course, instinct kicked in. I lifted my camera and aimed it at one of them. He looked straight at me.

That was the moment I thought, “Well, this is it. This is how I die.”

But instead, the man — who honestly looked like a Yakuza boss — broke into a huge smile. Not only did he let me take the shot, he posed. Calm, confident, proud. One after another, I photographed more of them. It was surreal. And it was beautiful.

This unexpected encounter became one of the highlights of my photography life. Not because I planned it. Not because I timed it perfectly. But because I was there. Because I showed up with a camera in hand and the willingness to follow a gut feeling, even if it was four hours later than I intended.

That day reminded me of something essential: serendipity favors the prepared photographer. If you’re there — really there — the world has a way of offering its gifts.

And sometimes, those gifts come tattooed, smiling, and straight out of the shadows.