“Seina! You’re here early, did you have a good night's sleep? I know I did.”
Nao was the first face I saw upon entering the dressing room. The Ha:Yami Club opened its doors at 4 p.m., but she always seemed to arrive an hour early. At first, I thought she was trying to set an example, but now I think she does it to talk to me before work starts.
“I did.” I answered curtly.
Removing my top, I began my routine of getting dressed in the Ha:Yami Club’s uniform. I call it a uniform, but it's anything but uniform. The only thing that remains a constant is my name tag and the club’s name inscribed in shiny gold, the rest of the outfit changes by the week, sometimes by the day depending on whether we have special guests or not.
The dressing room wasn’t always a thing, before I came to work here it didn’t exist. Girls would take their outfits and a weekly schedule home and get changed there. It worked well for a time, but the eye-catching nature of the outfits and the club’s logo brought unwanted attention on the street.
After all, Ha:Yami Club wasn’t afraid to show off its hostesses, and some men forgot that hostesses became people once they were off the clock. Still, the club was willing to ignore complaints from the hostesses while it was just catcalling and the occasional touchy man on the train. It was advertising the business, I’m sure they thought.
It ended how anyone with a brain expected it to. Someone went too far one day, and a hostess quit. And then suddenly the club cared about the safety of their employees, in truth, I think it's because Ha:Yami had achieved a certain level of luxury and reputation, and hostesses being treated like shit was affecting their image.
“So, Seina, what do they have you in today? I’ve got a sparkly white dress that stops just before my ass and shows off my cleavage in full force! Guess I’m on showhorse duty tonight.”
Showhorse duty is one of the tasks given to the more experienced and eye-catching girls. I’ve done it a few times, all you have to do is look pretty even from a distance, and parade yourself around the VIP tables asking them if they need anything else. The whole point of it is to make the standard customers jealous of those in the VIP area, while also ensuring the VIPs are at ease spending more money.
My uniform for tonight wasn’t revealing in the slightest, it was elegance redefined. Pure white that stuck closely to my skin with its velvet touch, it ran from my shoulder on a single strap and ended below my thighs with a slit cut into the fabric to show off my bare legs.
“I’m on solo duty.”
We were guessing what our shift would be tonight, but once you’ve been here as long as we have. It becomes easy to figure out what you’re doing for the night based on your outfit.
Solo duty is my most common shift task. I’m dressed up like a doll to fit the client's taste, and then my sole job is to sit at their VIP table, make small talk, flirt, and ensure everyone is attended to. It’s a job only given to the most desirable girls, or in my case, those that make the best trophies.
It's what I was taught to do.
Thank you, mom and dad.
Nao smiled somewhere between a genuine smile and a giggle, “Yeah, that’s not a surprise with you. I’ll be cheering for you whenever I visit your table! Ok?”
“Thank you, Nao.” I replied sitting down to apply my make-up.
“Ah!” She practically jumped up from her seat, “That reminds me, this weekend Mikako and I are going to this nice cafe in Shimokitazawa, Samishii Café I think? Wanna come? It’ll be fun, I promise.” She excitedly continued only a few inches away from me.
Shimokitazawa is a neighbourhood just southwest of Shinjuku, the district where the club is located. The shops there advertise the place as ‘Old Tokyo’ and ‘vintage’, but that’s just an excuse to avoid saying shoddy. I understand why Nao wants to go there, it isn’t a bad place to visit, but I’d rather not.
“I’m unavailable this weekend.”
Her face immediately reversed, and a disappointed look mixed with acceptance replaced it as if she’d anticipated my answer already.
“I see, well I hope you enjoy whatever you’ve got planned this weekend.” Nao switched back to her happier tone of voice, strategically avoiding asking about my non-existent plans.
“You too.”
The door to the dressing room opened and in stepped Mikako with her usually loose black hair tied back in a simple low ponytail. She took one look at Nao barely two feet away from me and said, “Ah, I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
Nao moved closer to Mikako and flashed her a big grin, “I was just inviting Miss Never Goes Anywhere With Us to Shimokitazawa this weekend.” She teased.
Mikako returned Nao’s grin with a reserved, calming smile of her own, gliding past towards her locker, she replied, “She said no? I’m assuming?”
Instead of answering Mikako directly, Nao turned to me and joked, “We’ll get you next time, Seina. You’ll give in eventually.” Prompting a chuckle from Mikako.
“I’m sure she will.” She added, continuing her search through the locker and pulling out her uniform for the day.
“Oh oh, what did you get?” Nao chirped.
Mikako held out a short black skirt and matching shirt both made with thicker fabric along with a pair of tights and glossy black flats.
“It appears I’ll be your drinks jockey for the night. What about you two?” She spoke softly, patting down her uniform and placing it on the bench and beginning the task of undressing.
A drinks jockey is exactly what it sounds like. It's one of the hostesses who makes and delivers the drinks. A mix between a bartender and a waiter. While they make the drinks for the VIP area, they don’t deliver them there as that task is left to the showhorses.
Nao put on a show of pouting before letting out an exaggerated sigh, “Ouhhhh, Seina’s a solo and I’m a showhorse today. So we won’t get to see you this shift.”
I finished putting on my make-up and with my uniform all smoothed out, I took out my name tag and gently clipped it on the fabric over my right breast. Taking a glance at myself in the mirror was as strange as always; such an expensive dress paired with a cheap nametag created a scene that felt so out of place.
“Not to worry, I’m sure we’ll be together tomorrow night, Nao.” Mikako replied with her trademark mature and silky voice as if she had everything under her control.
“Here’s to hoping-” Nao began but was cut off by a large man suddenly entering the dressing room.
“Nao, Mikako, you’re switching uniforms tonight.” He commanded sternly.
Kiyoshi Shikichi; at first glance, one might think he was a bully or brute with his tattooed muscled arms, short black hair that’s shaved on the sides and commanding attitude. But I’ve never heard the other girls describe him as anything else but a softy, I can’t say I disagree with them. He’s quite protective of us, I know he’s even dealt with a few customers who’ve gotten handy with the hostesses in the common area.
Of course, he can’t touch the VIPs, he knows he can’t cross that bridge. Fortunately, as most the VIPs are long-term customers or have reputations to protect, they usually don’t cross the line, so he wouldn’t have much opportunity to step in even if he could.
“Whatttttt? You’re changing the schedule 10 minutes before we start our shift?” Nao complained in an overly girlish voice.
“One of Mikako’s favourites called in for a sudden booking tonight, and he wants to see her on showhorse duty. Little surprised he didn’t ask for a solo, but he said he prefers to ‘watch beauty from afar’, whatever that means.” Kiyoshi explained with an even more confused tone than Nao who’d been the one to ask the question.
Nao expressed her dissatisfaction by tutting loudly before beginning to undress again while Mikako handed her now old uniform to her and turned to Kiyoshi in curiosity, “Which one is he? Hashimoto? Nakahara? Or someone else?”
He shrugged his shoulders and turned to look at the wall to give Nao back her privacy, not that she noticed his somewhat kind gesture. “Can’t tell you, besides he just likes looking, doubt you’d know him.”
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Mikako kept her eyes hovering over Kiyoshi for a little while longer before deciding he wasn’t lying and returning to getting dressed in Nao's newly removed uniform.
I was supposed to have left 3 minutes ago but had been caught up by this sudden development. It meant little to me, other than the small fact I’d now be partially working alongside Mikako instead of Nao.
As I was rechecking myself in the mirror, I caught Kiyoshi looking over me in the corner of my eye. His eyes seemed to be drawn to my breasts and lingering over my nametag.
“You look nice tonight, Seina.” He stated in his usual guff voice.
Turning around to meet his stare dead on, I replied, “Thank you.”, eliciting a weary smile from him.
“Not in work mode yet?” He asked noting my reply.
Work mode is the jokey term my coworkers came up with to describe how I act while working. They coined it to make light of my drastic personality shift once I’ve placed my nametag on and started my shift. It's also a slight warning, as I’ve developed a reputation for being an overly serious bitch when not in work mode.
“No.”
It must be strange for him, to see me like this with the nametag on. Usually, once I put it on I immediately begin my change, but this time he interrupted me before I had time to do it.
“Hmm, well get to it. You’re on soon. You’ll be at Table 2 till 6 p.m., then Table 5, and once it hits 9 p.m. you’ll be at Table 1 till the VIP leaves, then you can clock out.” He read my schedule aloud before handing it to me, and then he passed along Nao’s and Mikako’s schedules without a word.
“Ok.” I replied before turning back to the mirror.
I looked over my appearance, my eyes focused on my nametag, rechecking its every detail.
‘Seina Kanemoto’ it read.
The woman staring back at me was tainted, impure, disgusting. She was no one, nothing.
Total blackness, a perfect, empty void.
I was Seina Kanemoto.
Now I am a void.
Seina Kanemoto was beautiful, she was perfect, pure, happy, flirty, intelligent, knowledgeable. She had hobbies and she always knew what to say. Women wanted to be her, men wanted to be with her.
She wasn’t dirty, or broken. She had the purity of white.
I am Seina Kanemoto.
I looked over her appearance, my eyes focused on her nametag, rechecking its every detail.
The woman staring back at me was clean, pure, beautiful. She was everything you could ask for, totally and completely perfect.
My hand brushed over her nametag, it read ‘Seina Kanemoto’, and she was happy.
We were happy.
“Seina, times up, we’ve got to get moving now.” A voice called out to me… to Seina.
“Ah, come on Seina! You’re gonna make Mikako late. You’ll be alright, right Mikako? Don’t let her make you late.” The second voice, Nao, asked worryingly.
Seina turned over gracefully to face the two girls, “Ah, my apologies, I was lost in my own thoughts.” Standing up, she smiled and encouraged them, “Ladies, we wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting for the main attraction, now would we?”
Nao let out a small giggle that veered slightly too close to uncomfortable before turning back, while Mikako had no choice but to fall into laughter after seeing her friend do the same, “Work mode Seina has arrived.” Nao whispered to Mikako before addressing Seina, “Welcome back, Seina.” she added, and Mikako followed up with the same greeting.
“Thank you both.” Seina replied with a beaming and confident smile. “I’ll be in your care, so please take care of me.”
The clock struck 4 p.m., and the doors to Ha:Yami had opened to welcome in the early goers. The clubbing didn’t start until 8 p.m., so these 4 early afternoon hours were dictated to more refined tastes.
Late lunches and early dinners were served, family meet-ups and business gatherings were planned, and live music was played, more often than not of the classical kind, with the occasional singer filling the room with angelic noise. You’d even find the rare business deal being signed behind the closed doors of the private rooms.
The Ha:Yami Club was truly a place that could cater to almost any need. There was a reason it was so well respected and frequented.
And in the middle of all of this, Seina was seated by the VIP of Table 2. She was laughing at his jokes, complimenting his ideas, and causally flirting with him, all to encourage his boasting, and more importantly, his wallet.
He was your average rich kid trying to prove himself to his father, yet failing massively. Right now he was here to appear busy, making up an excuse for his stern father that this outing is for business.
It wasn’t a total lie, he’d brought with him two friends who happened to be the children of two other wealthy parents. So at the very least, he was getting well connected with those of a similar station.
Except there is a hole in that deduction; he’d had his eyes on Seina for so long that I was afraid he might burn a hole through her.
“You like what you see?” She teased, drawing a wide grin from the VIP.
“Maybe,” He tried to tease back, “But I’d like it more without that dress.” He continued.
This dress wasn’t chosen for this client, so it's no surprise he cares more about Seina’s body than it. He’s just a side job until her real VIP for the night arrives. Privately, we call them secondary VIPs, just rich kids or one-off businessmen who barely come in. The real VIPs are the ones who get to decide everything about us for the night, we become pretty little dress-up dolls for them, and the moment they leave our shift ends.
9 p.m. is when he comes, then her shift will truly begin.
Seina gently placed her hand against his cheek, the stubble pickling her skin, “You know, if you drool too much you’ll end up dehydrated. Here, I’ll get you all another drink.” She finished with a breath of hot air into his ear to attempt to draw out a blush.
Instead, he took on a mock look of offence as he held a hand to his heart, looked towards the two other men at the table, and laughed. “Drooling? Me? Haha.”
Standing up, she took a few steps away from the table before turning around to meet the VIP’s eyes and taunted with a wink, “Don’t worry, I like a man who knows what he wants.”
Leaving behind the sound of roaring laughter, she continued towards the VIP bar for another round of drinks, her beautiful blonde hair following behind her.
The VIP bar didn’t actually make the drinks, instead, you placed the order and it’d go down to the bar in the common area where one of the drinks jockeys would make it, then carry it up the stairway between the common and VIP bars for a showhorse to deliver.
Usually when the common area was more packed, it’d take at least a minute or two to get a drink, but at this early hour, it's completely empty meaning the waiting time can be measured in seconds.
Arriving at the bar, a waiter quickly took her order and sent it off. This was one of the few men who worked in the service area, and that was mainly because no one cared who carried the drinks up and down. He’s just a part of the background decoration, barely noticeable even on a good day.
The bar is what draws the most attention. Its bright neon blues and black marble counter specked with white dots, the rare flash of silver that outlined its other colours, doing exactly what it was supposed to do, catch your eye.
The rest of the VIP area was the same, a mix of blues, blacks, and silvers with crisscrossing neon overhead and built into the walls to give that surrounded and comfy vibe.
There were only 12 tables up here, all large enough to seat 10 people, more if need be. It was different to the common area, you could easily fit 200 people below, maybe 300 if you include the massive light-up dance floor that lay at the centrepiece.
It makes sense, the VIP area is the show-off floor, sitting high above the common area you can just about see behind the railings overlooking the dancefloor if you’re in the right spot. It's designed for maximum jealousy, to truly show off the showhorses and wealth up here.
Suppose you come here at the right time. In that case, you’ll be able to see the fancy dishes being ferried to and from, maybe catch a view of the various plants and trees that line the wall and muffle the sound between tables, or if you’re lucky you’ll hear a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful voice singing, carrying the VIP audience away with her on a trip to ecstasy.
Sometimes the club makes Seina perform, either singing or piano, sometimes a mix of the two. My father pushed me into lessons for them, though my voice isn’t so much lessons, but genetics. Still, regardless of origins, it’s always Seina up there.
She prefers it like that, and I think we both enjoy it that way.
The club doesn’t serve food down in the common area, nor is there a speck of greenery or song to be sung. It's all drinks, recorded music, and neon lights. But that’s what sells there, and up here they sell a different experience.
“Here you are, Seina.” The waiter said with a smile that Seina returned with a thanks.
Four drinks on a steel plate, all of them but one had two pieces of ice in them, her’s had three. It was non-alcoholic, for the solo working the shift. Our job was to get the VIPs spending money, not get wasted on the job.
She took the long way back, sometimes it was best to make them wait for it, get them thinking about how they can’t wait for you to return, it's all part of the game. She walked down the railings overlooking the common area, peering off at the bright white dance floor in the centre.
It was empty, I didn’t even need to check downstairs to figure that out. If the dancefloor was white, instead of flashing different colours, it meant the music hadn’t started and the clubbing was still on hold till more people arrived or the clock ticked passed 9 p.m..
The VIP welcomed her back with a sharp grin, turning away from his friends and putting his full focus on her, he beckoned her to sit with a tap on the spot beside him.
Taking the offered seat, she locked eyes with him, brought one of the drinks to her lips to mimic taking a slip, and then pressed the same glass to his mouth while he drank eagerly.
Once finished, he breathlessly said, “Gods Seina, has anyone told you how hot you are?”
Always Seina.
Never me.
Impure, broken, dirty, cracked.
We prefer it like that.