“I thought that I heard you laughing. I thought that I heard you sing. I think I thought I saw you try…”
Yui groaned, rolling her eyes at her blue-haired sister as she tossed a bottle of vodka over her shoulder, catching it pointed downward over her tin shaker. “Mei, I swear, this guy’s gonna lose more than his religion if he doesn’t shut the hell up. Where in the actual fuck did you find these clowns?!” Her orange skirt swayed behind her in a wide arc as she spun quickly to scoop up an orange spiral to garnish the drink in her hand.
With a shrug, the younger sister handed a large shrimp pizza over the counter to Izumi. “I put up a sign offering an open mic night, and they signed up. We gotta try something.”
“Well, close the damn mic, then! Fuck, Mei! We can’t do this to our regulars. We serve them wagyu filet five nights a week when Ranko’s here; we can’t give them fish flakes the other two. And we’d better ramp up the search, ‘cause we’re gonna need a couple of decent bands to get us through for weeks at a time while Ran-chan’s away.” Yui cocked her head, putting on a bright customer service smile as she slid the margarita glass in her hand across the sealed bar top to a young flight attendant.
Mei nodded with a sigh. Man, she’s been a real bitch since she broke up with Sakura. Poor thing, it must be killing her, especially this close to Christmas. “I know, Yui. I know. But, it’s not like I can just ask do you suck, yes or no, on the application form! We gotta let ‘em try, and we already do the tryouts on the slowest nights to minimize the damage when they’re bad. We could just plug the karaoke machine back in, maybe. I dunno!”
“That was just a dream. Try, fly, cry, try… that was just a dream…”
“Yeesh. Should we get the hook?”
Yui and Ayako both looked up to the blue saloon door to greet the woman who had emerged from it. “Please, mama? I’m about to hit this bottle myself just to make the fucking pain stop,” the younger girl pleaded.
Ayako groaned, covering her ears with her hands. “No fair rubbing it in that I can’t drink, you little shit!”
“Hey, Aya? Can I… talk to you for a second, honey?” Hana bit her lip, a nervousness in her eyes that unsettled all three of her daughters. In their experience, nothing made Hana Takahashi nervous. The woman was made of iron and hellfire, and five of the six young women on the Phoenix’ payroll were only alive because of it.
Ayako slipped carefully off the stool behind the service bar to her feet, wincing as she stretched her back. “Sure, mama. What’s up?”
Hana motioned to her, coaxing her toward the back of the house. “Back here, honey. I just need a couple minutes.” She held the swinging blue door open to permit the very pregnant eldest of the Phoenix sisters to pass.
“Wonder what that’s all about,” Mei asked, receiving only a shrug from Yui in reply. She spun her head back around in response to a greeting from across the service bar. “Oh, hi. Sorry about that.”
The young man was heavy-set, with a five-o’-clock shadow cast over his round cheeks. His brown shaggy hair was a bit slick with sweat from an hour and a half under the bright lights of the Phoenix’ little stage. “It’s all good. We’re done. From the reaction of the crowd, I’m… guessing you aren’t inviting us back.”
Mei cringed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, man. You were great on the guitar, but your singer…” She inhaled sharply through her teeth in an auditory wince. “I’m really sorry.”
The guitarist shook his head. “Hey, it’s cool. I get it. Yeah, Tsuneo’s… yeah. And I know your clientele’s a little spoiled to begin with, what with Ranko and the Dapper Dragons playing here a couple times a week.”
Mei nodded. “It’s a high bar, to be sure, but somebody’s gotta fill the stage while she’s gallivanting around Australia…”
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“Aya, baby, sit down.”
Hana took her eldest daughter’s hand, easing her down onto the threadbare leather couch in her ever-cluttered office.
Aya frowned, grunting a bit as gravity won over and she plopped her backside to the couch with an undignified frppp of creaking leather. “Mama, what’s going on? You’re kind of creeping me out here.”
The Phoenix’ matriarch nodded, pulling her leather jacket off to reveal her orange Jose Cuervo tee shirt. Indeed, shirts advertising liquor or bands made up more than ninety percent of her wardrobe. That didn’t even count the band merchandise they sold behind the service bar, for the pop/rock band her youngest daughter fronted. She tossed the black coat over her desk, paying no mind to the few torn-open envelopes it knocked to the floor.
“I know, sweetheart. I… have something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you years ago. And, there’s really no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it, okay? I know…” She swallowed hard, wheeling her tattered leather office chair out from behind her desk and situating it across from her daughter’s spot on the couch before slipping into it and reaching for her eldest daughter’s hands.
“I heard what you’ve been going through with the baby, and all the research you’ve been doing. I know it’s been weighing on you, not knowing your family history like Kage does. I want to help you, Ayako. Always. I’m always gonna be here for you, baby girl. And the thing is…”
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Hana gave Aya’s hands a tight squeeze, and Ayako wasn’t sure which of the women the gesture was intended to bolster.
”Aya, I know who your birth mother is.”
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“So, hey, I wanted to ask you… it’s Mei, right?”
The blue-haired girl nodded, her pigtails bouncing in front of her face. She blushed, making a little flrrp sound with her lips as she blew a white satin ribbon tail out of her mouth. “That’s me! What’s up?”
The young guitarist leaned forward on the counter, as there were no stools positioned at the service bar. He lurched slightly forward as his elbow skittered out from under him, slipping on a ring of condensation left behind by a prior patron’s pilsner glass. He brushed the residual liquid from the sleeve of his festive green button-down shirt as best he was able. Nice. Real smooth.
“So, it’s looking pretty obvious that The Snake Charmers won’t be rising up the charts any time soon, and well, we really can’t seem to book a stable gig to save our lives. After tonight, I think you’ve got a pretty good idea why. Anyway, I saw your sign in the window – are you guys still hiring? I could really use something steady.”
Mei blushed, fidgeting a bit with her sky-blue skater dress. Wow, I don’t even remember the last time we had a boy working here. “I mean, we’re not hiring for music; it’s mostly service and stuff. We’re a little short-handed these days, as you might have noticed. What was your name again?”
“Seiichi. Seiichi Tanagawa. And, I get it; no worries at all. If you think my guitar skills shred, you should see me work a dishwasher.” He chuckled quietly at his own joke, a glint of mirth in his eyes. “If you’re still lookin’, anyway. If not, no hard feelings.”
Mei gave a sharp nod, her pigtails annoyingly flopping into her face again. “Oh, we are, and we’d love to get someone started before Christmas, ‘cause one of us is about to be out on maternity for a while, and another… well, I think you know what Ranko’s gonna be up to.”
The guitarist laughed, stealing a glance back up at the stage and his significantly less-famous band. He shook his head before pointing up to the black tee shirt hanging behind the bar that listed the thirty-six dates of the upcoming Wildfire Tour in three columns of white text inside a hot pink angular frame across its back. The frame was ringed by two white dragons down the sides and bottom, surrounding a lone pink orchid in a circle at the bottom center. “Doesn’t everybody? Trying not to get too jealous over here.”
With a giggle and another nod, Mei once again brushed her hair from her eyes. Why am I such a giggle stick tonight? “Makes two of us. She’s gonna see Hong Kong and Shanghai, and I’m gonna… pour some more shots.” She smiled brightly up at the boy, lifting a bottle of tequila and tilting it slightly in his direction in salute before flipping it upside-down and letting an ounce of the clear liquid flow into the glass in front of her through the attached silver pour spout. “It’s good to meet you, Seiichi Tanagawa.”
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“All this time?! You’ve known all this time and you didn’t tell me? Why, mama?! I’ve always wanted to know.”
“I know, honey. And…” Hana slumped in her chair, looking down at her hands in shame. “I was just so afraid to screw up what we have. We’ve gotten so close, and I couldn’t bear to mess it up.”
“But… I don’t know why you’d think that!” Ayako sighed, grimacing as she adjusted her weight on the couch in a vain effort to find a comfortable position to sit in. Her son’s constant kicking at the inside of her abdomen was doing the task no favors. “You’ve been great to me. The girls, too. So much better than my adoptive family was.”
Hana sighed, willing herself to summon up a reservoir of strength sufficient to utter a sentence she’d withheld in silence for nearly twenty years. She squeezed her daughter’s hands tight, not leaving herself a free hand to wipe the tears forming in her eyes.
“Ayako, baby… the thing is, I’m your birth mom. It’s me, honey.”
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“Well, Seiichi, I’ll tell you what. I don’t make the decisions here; the Phoenix is a family bar and we do everything like that as a group. I’d love to have you meet everybody, but my mom and Aya are…” Mei shrugged her shoulders, cocking her head back toward the blue saloon door. “... busy, I guess, and Ran-chan and Akane are off tonight. Could you maybe come by later in the week, maybe Saturday afternoon sometime? Then we can round all the girls up and talk about it.”
The mousy-haired young man nodded earnestly. “Yeah, that’d be great. I’ve heard such great things about this place.”
Mei blushed, nodding emphatically. “Yeah, say what you want about our little dive bar, but we’re a family here, and nothing comes between us, ev…”
“WHAT!?!”
Yui and Mei’s eyes both snapped up to the saloon door at the outburst emanating from behind it. A moment later, Ayako crashed through the door into the main bar area, turning many a patron’s head as well given that the stage was currently unoccupied and no music was playing to drown out the shout. The door slammed into the back counter of the service bar hard enough to rattle the bottles on the mirrored display shelves above it.
Hana emerged through the door a moment later, a frantic look in her eyes. “Aya, please, wait! Just let me talk to you!”
“SEVENTEEN YEARS! You’ve had seventeen fucking years and you couldn’t find five minutes to tell me?! You’ve had plenty of chances to talk!”
Hana charged after her daughter, reaching for her shoulder. “Ayako, I can explain, if you’ll just let me!”
The younger woman whirled quickly, almost losing her balance due to the weight distribution of her distended belly. The fury in her eyes was evident to everyone in the half-empty bar.
“I can’t! I can’t even fucking look at you right now! I… I gotta get the fuck out of here!” Ayako stepped out of Hana’s grasp, stomping toward the front of the bar. Without another word, she crashed through the glass double door, throwing it shut behind her with a guttural growl.
“Like I was saying,” Mei offered worriedly, her eyes following her distraught mother as she weaved her way back through curious bar patrons and slipped back through the saloon door into the back of the house. “Nothing comes between us. Ever.”