How Yakuza 6 Deals a Blow to Toxic Masculinity

As my colleagues are well aware by now, I won't shut up about the Finnish way of celebrating Valentine’s Day: instead of focusing on the romantic aspect of love and relationships, we celebrate Ystävänpäivä, or “the day of friends”. Maybe we were friend-zoned by our neighbours too often… who knows? Anyway, being somewhat romantically challenged myself, I’ve always appreciated the focus on such an important bond in our lives, which got me thinking about my recent playthrough of Yakuza 6: Song of Life.

If you’ve played through the final Yakuza game before they put on a cool wig and changed their name to Like A Dragon, you’ll know a lot of it revolves around family. Many central characters in the game are dealing with the pains and strains of familial relationships and the way they can affect people as the years go by, with the stone-faced Kiryu having to come to terms with his surrogate daughter apparently having a child while he was away on his many stints in prison.

Now, alongside this main theme of family and familial relations, the game also has an undercurrent of identity and rebuilding one’s self again, much like Kiryu and Haruka themselves find themselves doing after the events of Yakuza 5. One instance where this shows is in a small side story revolving around the bar of Snack New Gaudi found in Onomichi, Hiroshima. In this multi-stage journey, Kiryu must visit the bar, mingle with the regulars, and slowly become a part of the group.

The themes of the side activities are a bit varied, with each character having a mission dedicated to their problem du jour, be it a father fretting about his daughter dating or an elderly man dreaming of pop stardom; pretty standard Yakuza fare. However, as I neared the end of the game and the final stretch of the narrative unlocked, something unexpected happened.

As a part of the mission, Kiryu decided to write a note to the Mama (or proprietress) of the bar, asking to meet them and buy them dinner as thanks for being both so kind and welcoming. This is all sweet and nice, however, one part of the tale has you hiding the note somewhere in the bar. Thinking little of it, I placed the note on a clearly visible spot and went on my way, fighting thugs, spearfishing sharks, and other normal daily activities. Once I was notified that it was time to meet, I was shocked to find the elderly pop star waiting at the docks for me! What followed was a hilarious (but heartfelt) discussion between the men and Kiryu doing his best to extricate himself with dignity.

You are given the chance to try and hide the aforementioned note a few times, with each location being tied to a different patron with its own little scene. After going through these, I found myself realising, much like Kiryu, that I had grown surprisingly attached to these goofs and curmudgeons. What crowned this feeling of growing attachment is the very end of the questline, where the whole gang sits down together for one last toast for the evening and Kiryu thinks about how this little group has become like a new family for him.

Friendship is not easy, especially at an older age where everyone is busy and you can seldom break the ice by inquiring about someone’s favourite dinosaur without seeming odd. Though one can argue in any direction, I dare say friendships, especially new ones, can be doubly difficult for those of us on the more masculine side of societal norms. Being taught at a young age that showing emotions is bad, being tender and thoughtful is equatable to being weak, and signs of affection are “feminine”, it can be difficult for us to show or even realise how important bonds of friendship (and more) can be to us.

But just think about this: if you need to point at a character that can epitomise the concept of masculinity and badassery, choosing Kiryu Kazama is a pretty good pick… maybe even one of the best. No one could look at this walking tank and say he’s weak or unmanly, right? If this pillar of everything manly can sit down at a table with his mates, raise up his glass, and wholeheartedly thank them for being so welcoming and making him feel at home, who are we to say otherwise?

If Kiryu can express his appreciation to his newly found family of friends, what reason do we have not to do the same? It’s a game, sure, and it does feel awkward bringing up something as personal and meaningful as this, but you could be surprised by how much it may mean to others to hear. I’m not saying all harder-than-life men should go around hugging it out with their drinking buddies (but if that sounds good, go for it), but I do think practising that little bit of openness may do wonders.