The Eien-Kai
Airi and her friends' first day at the Eien-Kai.
Airi’s eyes flitted open. White walls. Black colored futon. Wait.
Where was she?
This isn’t her bedroom. Where was she? She sat up, heard a low murmur, and found Naoko in the identical futon next to her.
In the corner furthest from the door, on a gray square couch with blue L-shaped cushions, lay Takara and Akane. Takara lay peacefully, fitting perfectly on her side of the couch. Akane was snoozing with an arm and a leg sticking out from under a blanket.
Where were they? How did they get here?
Oh, wait.
Airi finally remembered yesterday’s events. The cram school, going to Uguisudanicho, sneaking into the printing workshop, those thugs, them being saved by some juvenile delinquents, then those same delinquents taking them to this building. Then the conversation with Ishii-san, Wila’s mouse-like ears, and Ishii-san’s last words.
“Welcome to the Fukushin.”
The Fukushin.
The Confidants. If not for their criminal nature, they could pass as a secret society of youth with their own building. And one of their members could fly! Airi wondered what other Fukushin had special abilities and what others from home or school would think if they knew… Oh, right, they were being kept here, in Ebisu, away from their family and school, because Naoko borrowed money from them to buy exam answers from that workshop.
Sighing, Airi slowly got up to her knees and stretched her arms out. All of them were wearing the same clothes they had on yesterday. Airi wondered if they were going to be given extra clothes to change into.
DONK! “Ow!”
Airi turned around to see Akane sitting up on the couch, rubbing her head. She must’ve rolled toward the wall and hit her head. “Are you okay?”
“Ow! Ow! Ow! What?” Akane looked around. “Where are we- oh, right.”
“Hai, I just remembered myself.”
“Ah… how’s Naoko?”
Airi looked down at Naoko, curled up in a ball in her futon with her glasses set down on the carpet next to it. “Still asleep.”
Akane stretched her arms. “And how are you?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? That one guy hit you over the head yesterday.”
“I know, I feel fine. Honestly, I’m more worried about Takara.”
“Hai,” Akane concurred, remembering how Takara’s blood-stained fingers were shaking. “What did that guy mean?”
“What?”
“That guy, with the jacket and who speaks with Hokuriku.”
“Iga-san?”
“Hai. He said: ‘she freaked.’ What did he mean by that?”
“I don’t know. I just never saw her act like that before.”
“Neither did I, but have any of us ever been in an actual fight before?” That’s true. Also, none of them have ever been shot at before; none of them heard an actual gunshot. “So,” Akane continued as Airi began to fold up her futon, “what do you think Ishii-san meant by work?”
“I don’t know. If it’s something similar to what Naoko was doing at that workshop, I think we’ll be okay. However…” She recalled the eerie grin of a bakeneko, felt an ice-cold hand on her breast. She shuddered.
“Are you okay?”
“What? Hai… I’m fine,” she tried to assure her friend, “I just remembered something. That’s all.” Before Akane could inquire about what she remembered, there was a rhythmic knock on the door.
Kon! Kon-kon-kon!
Before either of them could respond, the door swung open and Mahoshi Keiko came in.
“Oh wow! Itsuki-sama wasn’t kidding.”
“Mahoshi-san!” Airi jumped up as Takara began to stir. “What are you doing here?”
“Me? I’m supposed to be here,” Mahoshi proclaimed proudly, wearing a red Fragment Design t-shirt and short black skirt. “I work here.”
“Wait, you work here?”
“Hai, that’s what I just said.”
“Wa… what?” Takara slowly sat up on the couch, rubbing her eyes. Mahoshi’s mouth adopted a confidant smirk and she crossed her arms.
“Well, well. To think I would be saying ‘good morning’ to you, Takai-ki.” Takara immediately perked up.
“Mahoshi! What are you doing here?!”
“Working.”
“Working?”
“Yes, working. Working and living.”
“Living?” Airi asked.
“Hai, living,” Mahoshi confirmed, placing a hand on her chest, “as a sister of the Fukushin.”
“You’re with the Fukushin?”
“Sister?” Akane repeated.
“Well,” Mahoshi gave a little shrug, “little sister. I haven’t been officially inducted, but I’m working my way there.” That made sense, considering how they overheard her speaking on a payphone.
“So… work,” Airi said. “What kind of work, exactly?”
“It depends on the day,” Mahoshi explained. “Mostly it’s helping out around the club. But I’ve also been looking around, keeping my ears open, doing my best to ignore those stuck-up adults we have to listen to every single day. Get some money here, get some money there. Smash some windows. Mark a certain building so the brothers and sisters could find it later.”
“Get money, how?” Takara questioned.
“You get money whenever you get it. Earn it, take it, doesn’t matter so long as you’re smart about it.”
“Excuse me!?”
“Oh calm down Takai-ki,” Mahoshi told Takara, rolling her eyes. “You’re not going to be earning anything for a while. Speaking of which.” She stepped around Airi and moved to Naoko’s futon. She leaned over, scrutinizing Naoko’s sleeping face, smirked again, then kicked her in the legs. “WAKE UP BAKA!” Naoko started and cried out from the futon.
“Hey!” Takara and Akane shouted.
“Leave her alone!” Airi demanded as Naoko, shaken, felt around for her glasses. “She hasn’t done anything to you.”
“Actually, she has,” Mahoshi replied with an irritated tone. “Because of her barrowing our money and giving it straight to the Kigyo, I now have to babysit four kohai that I hate the most.”
“The five of us are all in the same grade.”
“Hai, but the four of you have done nothing but school, homework and maybe a few things on days off. I have learned to cook, worked several legitimate jobs and earned a salary. I have transported goods. I have delivered messages. I stole and I tracked down thieves. I did work all across Meguro, Shinagawa, Ota and Ebisu. I have helped the elderly, scored money off stupid adults, and I even received a grateful bow from a mayor; although I didn’t realize it at the time. I have been on boats, ridden motorcycles, and even driven a car. I have experienced far more than any of you, even you miss-student-council-member-who-does-aikido.”
“Forgive me,” said Takara, now on her feet, “but I find it hard to believe everything you just said.”
“Why, because it’s true?”
“All of it?”
“Hai.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Like I care. Oh, and Daisuke told me.”
“Told you what?”
“How you had a nervous breakdown after a fight with a low-life punk.”
“That’s-!” Takara faltered, fists clenched.
“Anyway,” Mahoshi continued as Naoko put her glasses on and stood up, “come on, let’s go.”
“Go where?” Airi asked.
“To the bathroom on this floor. I can tell none of you bathed last night.”
“We weren’t given the chance,” Akane pointed out.
“I know.”
They were on the ninth floor of Eien-Kai building. The hallways were much the same as the fourth floor, only the walls of the hallway held photos, posters and even digital artwork in between the doors. Mahoshi led them to the large bathroom on that floor. In the undressing room, as they took off their clothes from the previous day, they realized the full extent of what they went through. Airi and Akane had light bruises on their arms, possibly from when each had to drop to the ground. Naoko had a full hand print around one of her arms where those thugs had grabbed her. And Takara, in addition to a small bruise above her left eye, had a pair of bruises around the first and second knuckles of both hands.
They moved into the extra-large wet room, with Mahoshi telling them she’ll return with fresh clothes. There were four showers and an extra-wide tub.
“Can I ask a silly question?” Airi wondered.
“Silly how?”
“How come things in this building keep appearing in fours?”
“That’s a good question,” said Takara.
“Let’s just ignore the second shower on the right,” Akane suggested. “I’ll share the third shower with Naoko.” After they washed up, they returned to the dry room where Mahoshi had returned with a clothing bin full of dark-colored clothing.
“Where are our own clothes?” Takara asked as the put their underwear back on.
“Being washed,” Mahoshi answered. “Now get these uniforms on.”
“Uniforms?”
They were uniforms. Black button-down shirts with short sleeves. Thigh-length black leggings and a dark blue, knee length pleated skirt. And a red bistro apron. Embroidered on the left side of the shirts, roughly where the heart would be, were two lines.
永遠会 in red. And beneath that,
ダイナー in blue.
“Daina…?” Naoko read the bottom line as they started getting dressed.
“It’s supposed to be dai-ner,” Mahoshi explained, “but there isn’t any kanji for it.”
“Diner?”
“It’s a style of restaurant from America.”
“I don’t suppose you have a longer skirt,” Takara asked.
“You have the leggings on underneath,” Mahoshi pointed out. “No one’s going to see anything. No one is even going to look.”
“What makes you so certain?” Akane asked, pulling on the skirt she was given.
“Because this is Eien-Kai. You have to be stupid to cause trouble in the Eien-Kai.”
“Um…” Everyone looked to Airi, who was struggling with the buttons of her shirt.
“You okay?”
“Eh, hai… I’m just, having trouble with these…”
“I could’ve sworn I got the right size,” Mahoshi pondered, then sighed. “Take it off, I’ll get another one.” Airi’s cheeks turned pink in embarrassment as she complied.
“Stupid fat,” she muttered as Mahoshi left.
“You’re not fat,” said Takara. “It’s just your breasts.”
“Exactly! It doesn’t matter what I eat, or how much I eat, everything goes to my breasts. It’s embarrassing whenever I go shopping for a yukata. Not to mention…” She remembered those ice-cold fingers and shuddered.
“Well, look at the bright side,” Akane offered.
“All things considered, we will never see that pervert again, not after what the Fukushin did to that place.”
“That’s… true.”
“Hai,” Akane encouraged, grabbing Airi’s hands, “so cheer up!”
“Um… hai-hai.”
After Mahoshi returned with a shirt that fit Airi, she led them downstairs to that club room they passed through the previous evening. The lighting was brighter. there were no flashing lights or loud music. There were also significantly less people than before, but those who were present were all teenagers. On the lower lever, they spotted the guy with the purple shirt from yesterday, wearing a different purple shirt with his feet kicked up on a table beside a different guy wearing a gray hoodie; who appeared to be sleeping, slumped over a table with his hooded head in his folded arms.
“Hey Keiko!” the guy in the purple shirt greeted. “Giving your friends the tour?”
“Kutabere Nobu!” Mahoshi shouted back down. “They’re not my friends!”
“They’re not? Then sit down and let me grab a meal so you can tell me about them.”
“Shi’ne!” Mahoshi snapped back, presenting a fist with the middle finger extended. The other teenagers in the club, the Fukushin, burst out laughing.
“You like it here?” Airi quietly asked as Mahoshi continued to lead them across the second-level and down a set of stairs to the main floor of the club.
“Like it here? I love it here! I just hate Koga,” Mahoshi explained, jerking her thumb toward Nobu.
“Koga?”
“His real name is Noboru Kokuroki, but he prefers to go by ‘Nobu Koga.’”
“Why?” asked Akane.
“Who knows. I don’t care enough to learn anything about that annoying flirt.” They proceeded through a different door into a breakroom where Ishii Itsuki was conversing with two other guys while jotting down notes in a notebook.
“Right, so that leaves us with… 8 on the debt list and 1 left on the other list. Funny how people begin paying their debts when they hear about other people getting hurt.” Ishii noticed them. “Hey, you’re finally awake!”
“So, what sort of work are we doing?” Takara asked with her arms crossed.
“Today, you’re starting as waiters and kitchen staff.”
“Kitchen staff?” the four friends repeated at once.
“You prefer I have you count money delivered by our debtors?” he inquired, stowing away the note book and waving away the guys he was talking to.
“No, we wouldn’t,” Airi answered.
“B-but we don’t know how to cook!” Naoko blurted out. “I-I mean, we’ve all made bento and helped out our parents with cooking, but we’re not restaurant chefs.”
“I don’t expect you to be chefs,” Ishii explained, pulling out a deck of cards from a pocket of his cargo pants. These weren’t hanafuda cards. They were larger and were detailed with a bizarre art style. “The more experienced brothers and sisters are the cooks. You four are starting as, well, kitchen assistants.”
“And what do kitchen assistants do apart from help in the kitchen?” Takara inquired cooly.
“You collect orders from customers, serve the food, and collect and clean the dishes,” Ishii explained while he began shuffling the strange cards.
“And what else?” Takara’s inquiry made Ishii chuckle.
“You think we do something criminal out of our diner? Who do you think we are? The triads? Or the Kigyo, for that matter? Our diner is a diner, a restaurant, a service, a business. If we were to loan out cash or sell stolen goods out of the diner, that would interfere with our business of serving food.”
“That’s… actually a good point,” Takara conceded.
“That being said,” he stopped shuffling to look at the four of them, “are any of you prone to rampant clumsiness?”
“Iie,” Airi immediately answered. The other girls, even Mahoshi, all looked at her. “What?”
“You had moments of clumsiness,” Takara stated.
“Not that many.”
“There’s the time that you submitted an essay on beauty salons instead of hospitals?” Takara reminded. Mahoshi snickered.
“That was one time!” Airi insisted. “I was tired from studying for a test the night before.”
“And how many times have you let your mind wander off in class,” Akane added.
“That doesn’t mean I’m clumsy!”
“That’s alright,” Ishii said, “so long as the four of you weren’t physically inept.” He suddenly set down four cards on a table.
The Prince of Wands
8 of Swords
3 of Disks
The Hermit
“Hmm… interesting.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Akane asked.
“Something so simple that I must be reading it wrong.” Everyone looked at him as he contemplated the cards, before he swept them back into the deck. “Anyway, get to the kitchen and help out in the diner. That’s your work for the day. Oh, and grab an Ippon bar before you start.”
And they did just that.
Airi and her friends were led into a kitchen, manned by half-a-dozen other teenagers. One of them, a tall boy with a bandana around his head and hands in clear plastic gloves named Hiroji, gave them each a snack bar before instructing them on what to do. Airi and Takara were ordered to help clean dirty dishes while Akane and Naoko were told to wait on the customers and take orders.
The water from the large sinks felt unnecessarily hot to Airi. But other than that, she didn’t have any real problem with washing the dishes. She and Takara and one other Fukushin teenager would rinse and wipe the plates, bowls, and colored plastic tumblers with hot water and soap, before placing them in a sort-of smaller dish-washer with a metal lid. That machine would run for a few minutes. After which the clean and nearly-dry items were placed back in the area where plates, bowls and tumbler cups were stored until further use. Airi had never worked an actual job before, but this wasn’t all that bad. Ignoring that the four of them were there against their will, it was actually something Airi wouldn’t mind doing for multiple hours a day, every day. Or, maybe she was only thinking that because it was a complete divergence from school work.
The number of dirty dishes increased somewhat after a while, but soon after Hiroji tapped Airi and Takara on the shoulders and told them to rest (“You two are on break. Good work.”). Back in that breakroom, they found Akane slumped in a chair and Naoko, hanging her head apologetically toward another girl in uniform. This girl was also tall; a few centimeters taller than Airi with a long black ponytail, sharp nose and eyes, and a simple string necklace of colored beads.
“So… how was it to be a waitress?” Airi asked.
“A little bit overwhelming,” Akane explained. “Going up to random people, remembering their orders and the price of everything once they need to pay for it.” She sighed. “I think I can do it better if I was given a class before today.”
“I thought you did pretty well,” said the girl next to Naoko.
“And you are?” Takara inquired, scrutinizing this Fukushin girl.
“I’m Kyogen,” the girl said with a slight bow, “Kyogen Atsuko.” As Airi and Takara bowed back in greeting, Airi noticed a ring on fourth finger of Kyogen’s right hand. It was silver with a red sigil on the crest. Ishii and Wila also wore similar rings. “Any of you want something to eat?”
“Like, from the menu?” Takara asked.
“Hai.”
“Kekkou desu,” Akane said, shaking her head. “I’ll just have some rice. Looking at that menu will just cause me to try and memorize it all over again.”
“Is that not a reason to order something from the menu?” Kyogen wondered.
“Kekkou desu,” Akane repeated. Kyogen shrugged.
“And the rest of you?”
The others said yes, so Kyogen got three menus and handed them out. The menu contained a motley variety of meal items. There was a number of meat dishes, korokke, kushikatsu, tempura, furai, yakiniku, gyoza, teriyaki, Takoyaki and okonomiyaki, but also western style meals. Airi recognized cheeseburgers, waffles, French toast, French fries, small sized pizzas, hotdogs, corndogs and cheesesteaks; but there were also other items such as curly fries, biscuits-&-gravy, quesadillas, burritos, chimichangas, ravioli, lasagna, not to mention the appetizers, side-dishes and drinks. One quick glance-through explained why Akane and even Naoko would have difficulties with orders.
“Wow… there’s a lot here,” Takara stated.
“Obviously,” Akane muttered, “and most of the food can’t be spelled with kanji. How am I supposed to write down ‘cheese-coated chimichangas with a side of gyoza and Cactus Cooler’?”
“Cac-tas coo-er?” Airi repeated.
“It’s a soda,” Kyogen explained, “orange and pineapple flavor.”
“Okay, what kanji do I use?” Akane persisted.
“Give yourself a few weeks, you’ll be writing short-hand in no time.”
“Short-hand!”
“You still want a bowl of rice?”
“Hai…”
“And the rest of you?” The others made orders from the menu and Kyogen nodded at them and walked off.
“So… how about you?” Airi inquired of Naoko.
“I… was okay,” Naoko replied weakly. “But then I had to serve a table with three customers. I- I’m not sure why I faltered. I had a hard time figuring out their orders and I didn’t want to make a mistake. Kyogen-san had to step in for me.”
“You always did have difficulty talking to random people,” Takara noted. “Did any of the customers do anything to cause trouble?”
“No.”
“What about you two?” Akane asked. “How bad was it to clean dishes?”
“Not that bad, actually,” Airi admitted. “Just rather monotonous.”
“Well, it is a job,” Takara pointed out. “So of course it would be boring. But it wasn’t unpleasant.”
“Can we switch?” Akane asked.
“We can ask.”
Kyogen soon returned with a serving cart, laden with the food they ordered, and also-
-another Kyogen?
No, seriously, the person accompanying Kyogen, helping guide the cart through the door, was Kyogen. Sort of. The same height, the same shoulder-length black hair, same stature, same uniform, same rings, same faces. The main difference was that Kyogen wore her hair in a ponytail, while the other wore her hair loose.
“Lunch is here,” Kyogen announced. “Rice for Akane-san.”
“Thank you,” Akane replied upon receiving a bowl of rice and chopsticks. “Um… is this your sister?”
Kyogen laughed loudly. “What gave it away?”
“Please Atsuko,” the other said with an identical voice, “they just got here.” Kyogen’s sister, hands folded in front of her, bowed earnestly. “Good afternoon. I am Kyogen Kyoko, Atsuko’s twin sister.” Now the four of them could see more difference between the identical sisters. Kyoko stood with a more elegant poise, whereas Atsuko slouched slightly. Also, while they both wore beaded necklaces, the beads were different colors. The beads on Atsuko’s necklace alternated between orange, green and purple. Kyoko’s necklace had red, yellow and blue beads.
“Nice to meet you,” Takara reciprocated the greeting. “So… both of you are Fukushin?”
“Hai,” Kyoko answered while Atsuko gave everyone else their lunch orders. “We’ve been part of the life for… five years, I think.”
“Has it been five years?” Atsuko wondered.
“I think so. It’s hard to be certain because of that business elsewhere.”
“Hai, hai.”
“So, um…” Airi hesitantly ventured, “how did you two end up in the Fukushin.” The sisters shared a quick glance before Kyoko responded.
“A brief story. A story I don’t feel comfortable sharing. Ishii-sama, Akirago, and all the others helped us so much.”
“Akirago?” Naoko repeated.
“Hai, Akirago Kengen, he’s what you would call: the Oyabun.”
“I thought Ishii-sama was the kumicho,” said Takara.
“Iie, iie,” Atsuko countered, placing Takara’s food and drink in front of her. “Ishii-sama is the shuryo. Ishii Itsuki is in charge of the Ishii Fukushin, and the Fukushin has a long reach up and down shimaguni. But above Ishii is the Oyabun, Fumetsu no Akirago, Akirago Kengen.”
“Immortal?” Akane pondered.
“What about, um, Iga?” Airi asked.
“Igarashi? He’s a brother. Everyone is a brother or sister in the Fukushin. Elder siblings, younger siblings, and shin ketsueki.”
“New blood?”
“Boys and girls like you. Although, most of them aren’t former debtors.” That made Naoko flinch in her chair. “Enjoy your meals. Hiroji is going to have you girls switch jobs for the afternoon shift.”
The meals they had for lunch was more-than-filling, and probably made up for their lack of breakfast. And Kyogen Kyoko was correct, Hiroji did switch them. So now Airi and Takara were the ones talking to customers and delivering the meals. Fortunately, they weren’t the only waiters. There were 10 other servers, six girls and four guys, including Atsuko.
After Atsuko taught them the basic greeting, Airi and Takara stepped into the restaurant-proper and were stunned to see the full extent of the dining area. It was a warm and cozy place with a wooden-style floor, white ceiling, and a long glass window decorated with a pair of red insignia (most likely the Eien-Kai’s logo) and oblique stripes of frosted glass. Along the window, on each side of the door, were a line of dining booths with red cushions. On the other side, against the wall to the kitchen, was a red-colored bar with stainless steel stool seating. And between the bar and the booths were, at least, twenty square tables. And there were already plenty of customers; at least half of the tables and booths were full.
“There are 24 tables and a dozen booths,” Atsuko explained behind them. She tapped Airi on the shoulder. “You’re in charge of the second booth on the left from the door, and the two tables in front of it. Those three tables, understand?”
“Uh… hai.” Airi suddenly felt a nervous knot in her stomach. It’s okay, it’s only three tables. It’s okay, you know what to say. To add to her sudden bout of nervousness, almost right on cue, two salarymen entered the restaurant and took a seat at the second booth to the left. Airi forced herself to take a deep breath, fiddling with the notebook and pen in her hands. “Hai… I can do this.” She grabbed two menus from a rack behind the staffroom door and steadily walked between the tables. One more deep breath. Then she arrived at the booth.
“Good day,” she greeted the two salarymen with a bow, “welcome to the Eien-Kai Diner. Can I get you something to drink while you decide your orders.” Kuso! Smile! She forced a smile as the first salaryman responded.
“Coffee please.”
The other salaryman checked something on his cell phone before putting it away. “Sencha for me; warm if possible.”
“Yes sir,” Airi said, handing out the menus, “I will return shortly.” Coffee and warm sencha, she can remember that. She made her way back to the staffroom and to an indoor window that opened to the kitchen. “I have orders for a coffee and a warm sencha tea, not hot or cold.”
“Got it,” reported the Fukushin kid at the window. “Did you write it down?”
“I did not.”
“Write it down, it’ll be easier to calculate the full price of their payment.” Oh, that makes sense.
“Hai.” She proceeded to write the two drinks in the notebook as the drinks were prepared. She looked back into the restaurant and realized with a shock that three teenage girls were sitting at one of the two tables she was responsible for. Okay; greet them, smile, ask about drinks. Taking another deep breath, Airi got three more menus and walked out to the table. “Good day,” she bowed to the girls, “welcome to the Eien-Kai Diner. Do you want something to drink while you decide your orders?”
“Yes please,” said the first girl, “Melon Soda please.”
“Same for me,” said the second girl as Airi passed out the menus. The second girl reminded her of Akane, except she had longer hair and wore tights, skirt and a sweater with extra-long sleeves.
“I would like some Ramune please.”
“Hai-hai,” Airi made a note of the three drinks. “I’ll be back soon with your drinks.”
“Thank you,” the three of them said, almost in unison. She went back to the staff room and reported the three soft drinks.
“Alright, wait there.” She waited. When the Fukushin member appeared, he presented her a circular tray bearing a coffee cup, a tea cup, and three of those red-colored tumblers. “One coffee, one warm sencha tea, two Melon Sodas and one Ramune.” Both sets of drinks? It’s okay, she can totally carry this.
Airi had to stop and think for a few moments before putting the notebook into a pocket of her apron. Then she carefully picked up the tray. Fortunately, it was only 30 centimeters across, so she could essentially cradle it with one arm while holding it steady with her other hand. Gingerly maneuvering through the sea of tables and other servers, Airi made it to the girls’ table first.
“Two Melon Sodas and one Ramune.”
“Thank you!” Then she moved over to the booth with the two salarymen, one of whom was still reading the menu.
“One coffee and one warm sencha tea,” she said with a smile, carefully unloading one, then the other onto the table.
“Thank you,” said the first.
“Kekkou desu,” said the other.
“Would you like to make your orders now?”
“Yes,” said the first, “I would like the kushikatsu dish.”
“Kushikatsu…” Airi awkwardly pulled out her notebook while keeping the tray tucked under her arm.
“I have a question,” said the second salaryman, “how greasy is the Eien-burger?” That, Airi knew from going over the menu, was this restaurant’s cheeseburger.
How greasy is it? I have no idea!
“A… little bit, not much. Most of the grease is soaked up by the bread.”
“Hai… I’ll have the Eien-burger then.” One kushikatsu and one cheeseburger.
“Hai, got it. I’ll return once your meals are ready.” She returned to the staffroom right as Takara received her own drink tray with a bemused smile on her face.
“How are you doing?”
“Not bad, I think I became someone’s crush.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Three guys at the booth I was assigned. One of them didn’t notice me until I greeted them. He looked up at me and became flustered.”
“Did he?”
“Hai, he actually gave his name before realizing his mistake and asking for water.”
“No way!” Airi almost laughed. “Are you going to get his number?”
“If I had a phone, I would consider it.”
“Ah, right.” She had forgotten that the four of them don’t have their phones. “Is he cute, at least?”
“A little bit,” Takara said with a shrug. She left with her tray and Airi reported the orders of the salarymen. It would take a while for the food to cook. She looked into the dining area. The two salarymen were conversing while scrutinizing some sheets of paper, probably stuff from their work. And also, oh! Right! The table with the three girls. They were still looking at the menus. Airi looked on until two of them set the menus down.
Remember to smile.
She walked out to the girls’ table.
“Are you ready to make your orders?”
“We are,” said the second girl, “she isn’t.”
“I can’t help it!” the third girl complained. “There’s so much here that I’ve never heard of.”
“Just take your time,” Airi assured. “And you two?”
The first two girls ordered a cheeseburger and yakiniku. Their friend hectically ordered a quesadilla. Now she understood what Akane was talking about. She ended up writing: けさだLだ in hiragana. Back to the staffroom, she posted the order.
“One Eien-burger. One yakiniku. And one… ke-sa-da-el-a.”
“Quesadilla?”
“Hai.”
“Got it. The burger and kushikatsu are just about ready.” Airi waited. Then the food for the salarymen came out on a slightly larger tray. The boy at the indoor window rang a silver desk bell with a loud DING!
“Order up.”
How long does she have to do this?
In all honesty, like the dishwashing, waiting on people wasn’t that bad. That evening, Airi’s legs started to get tired after a while, prompting her to rest in the staffroom. She leaned against the wall, hands on her thighs.
“Are you okay?” It was Akane.
“Hai. My legs are tired. Are you done washing the dishes?”
“No. There’s more customers coming in, so Hiroji called in some more ‘brothers’ to help out. And he’s having Naoko and I serve because we are shin ketsueki and can’t refuse.”
“Hmm…”
“What?”
“For being the lowest of the low, today hasn’t been that bad.”
“Well,” Akane frowned with her arms crossed, contemplating Airi’s words, “it’s better than being put on a tuna boat at least.”
“At least,” Airi concurred with a shallow laugh.
DING!
“Order up new blood.”
Airi collected a tray of nikujaga with kasutera on the side, a 21-centimeter wide shi-ka-go pizza, and French toast. Carefully, Airi maneuvered through the dining area, every booth and table taken, and made her way to the table where three college students were seated.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT WAKAMONO!?”
Airi almost dropped the tray. Shaken, she forced herself to take a deep breath before looking behind her. Across the room, at a table near the bar, an older man was seated alone and yelling at Naoko. The man was probably in his 50s with hair that was just beginning to gray, and was holding a clear drinking glass. Naoko, as Airi would expect, was doing her best to stay standing still, and failing.
“I-I beg y-your pardon, okyakusama, but you’ve had four glasses. E-even if you don’t order anything to eat with it, you should still—”
“WHAT DO YOU KNOW!?” the old man shouted, causing Naoko to shrink back with a meagre but audible “eep!” “YOU WAKAMONO ALWAYS THINK YOU KNOW EVERYTHING! ALWAYS THINK YOU KNOW BETTER! I’VE LIVED LONGER THAN YOU HAVE AND I KNOW MORE ABOUT WHAT I DRINK AND MANY OTHER THINGS THAN YOU DO! SO LONG AS I PAY, I CAN EAT OR DRINK! SO GIVE ME ANOTHER GLASS OF SHOCHU!”
“B-but—”
“WHOSE CHILD ARE YOU?! DID YOUR PARENTS NOT TEACH YOU HOW TO RESPECT YOUR ELDERS?! DO YOU NOT KNOW YOUR PLACE IN THIS BUSINESS?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU EVEN BEEN WORKING HERE?!”
This wasn’t good, especially since it’s Naoko. Airi wanted to go over there, at the very least get the old man to yell at her instead of Naoko, but she was still carrying a tray of food. She looked around. The customers were either watching or pretending not to notice. The waiters, on the other hand, were all glaring in the direction of the disturbance. She spied Takara on the other side of the dining area. She was trying to quickly fill out orders in her notebook. And Akane was probably still in the staffroom. Should she set the tray down at the table and go help Naoko? Airi thought. But what if something happens and the tray falls over? What if her intervention makes things worse? What if…?
Three Fukushin boys in street clothes entered from the staffroom. One of them was Iga. As the old man continued to berate Naoko, Iga and the other two guys walked up behind him. Iga gently touched the old man’s shoulder and quietly said something.
“Eh? What?” the old man finally stopped yelling.
Iga continued to speak softly.
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!” the old man turned to Iga, shrugging Iga’s hand off his shoulder. “I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE! NOT UNTIL I GET MY FILL!”
“You’ve had four glasses of shochu,” Iga said, unperturbed. “You should eat something to mellow that out ya?”
“I’M PAYING YOU FOR SHOCHU! NOT FOR ADVICE! I’M SICK OF ADVICE! AND I WON’T STAND FOR ANY MORE OF THIS DISRESPECT!” Airi saw the slight twitch of a smirk on Iga’s lips.
“Then we are in agreement. We both dislike disrespect, ya? Then let’s go to the back and we can talk about it.”
“DID YOU NOT HEAR ME WAKAMONO?! I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!”
“You don’t get it,” Iga suddenly leaned forward, one of his hands came down and jabbed a folding knife into the tabletop, “I wasn’t asking.” One of the other two Fukushin smacked away the empty glass, which cracked on the floor, but didn’t shatter. The other two Fukushin then grabbed the old man by the arms and shoulders. “Backrooms,” Iga said, “now.” The old man was forced to his feet and marched toward the staffroom. Iga put away his knife, carefully collected the cracked glass off the floor, and followed after the old man. The other waiters resumed as if nothing happened.
“Uh… is he going to be alright?” That was one of the college students Airi was serving.
“Ah… I have no idea, actually. Um…” She looked over at Naoko again. Takara had finished writing in her note book and hurried over to Naoko. Airi breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to her customers.
“I apologize for the wait. Nikujaga and kasutera?”
The Prince of Wands
8 of Swords
3 of Disks
The Hermit
