Reservations Not Accepted

Jesse wasn’t big on clubbing. Really, she just wasn’t a very social person in general. Big parties, night on the town, usually not her kind of thing. But after officially getting her contract transferred over to Momentum, she’d found herself an apartment in Osaka. Today was both the day that her transfer had been made official, and the day she’d gotten her things moved into her new place. Jesse would’ve been fine with just relaxing in the apartment for the rest of the night, but her brother Josh had other ideas. He’d come from Kyoto to help Jesse bring in and unpack her stuff. Jesse had offered beforehand to pay him or take him somewhere to eat to thank him, but he’d refused, saying all he wanted in return was that they find something lively in Osaka to do to celebrate. So, Jesse had done some digging online, and found a club that seemed to host fights. Interest piqued, she made a reservation for them both. They would’ve invited Julia too, but it’s a three hour train ride from Tokyo to Osaka, and she already had a lot on her plate at the moment. But that was fine. There’d be plenty of time for more family get-togethers later.

Unlike her sister Julia, Jesse hadn’t learned to speak or read Japanese yet, so she wasn’t even sure what the name of the place was. Fortunately, all she had to do was show their Uber driver the address and they were on their way. They got out once the car pulled over at the curb just beside the club. Jesse was wearing a white top with blue jeans that had several small rips in them, and a black leather jacket. Not the fanciest getup, though she had at least worn a fairly stylish pair of black, heeled boots that came just up over her ankles. Josh was wearing a tight-fitting, short-sleeved button down shirt with floral designs and dark pants.

They made their way to the entrance, where they were greeted by a pair of bouncers, one of whom held a clipboard with a list on it. “Jesse Rogers,” the American woman said upon approaching. But they didn’t even bother checking the list. “We’re full. Not accepting reservations now,” one said, immediately sparking an angry response from the short-tempered blonde. “We already made the reservations, you incompetent fucking idiot! Let us the fuck in!” she shouted, taking a step toward them before Josh stepped in, wanting to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand.

“Look,” the big man said, “Surely this is just some kind of misunderstanding. If you just check that list there, I promise you’ll see that we’re supposed to be here.” No such luck. They only looked up at him and repeated, “Sorry, no one else gets in. You need to leave now, or we’ll have to call the authorities.” No doubt they’d normally be more brave about handling things like this on their own, but they wisely weren’t about to pick a fight with someone Josh’s size if they could help it. Jesse still wanted to argue, but her brother just brought her aside to talk it over.

“Well this is fucking great… The hell are we supposed to do now?!” Jesse complained, while Josh just sighed and looked around. “I don’t know, but just chill out. Maybe we can just wait and see if they’ll let us in after a few people leave. If it takes too long, we’ll just walk around town and look for something else. How’s that sound?” Jesse didn’t like that she’d have to wait even after making a reservation, but her brother’s idea sounded good enough. “Fine, we’ll wait,” she conceded, crossing her arms over her chest while tapping her boot impatiently on the ground.

Koyuki learned very early on that being a Yakuza was more than just violence. Actually, it had distressingly little violence, especially at her managerial level. The threat of violence? Ever-present. But actual violence? When was the last time she so much as curb-stomped someone in the course of her working day? It had to be months at the very least. The actual Yakuza leadership experience was a sick, sad cycle of management, coordination, intimidation, paperwork, inspections, crisis response, negotiation, and a whole lot of other things that did not involve her most earnest wish to put someone through a 3-inch sheet of glass and then grinding them into the splinters until they looked like some kind of inverted glass-quill porcupine. But no, instead she had to go wear the various vocational hats that were required of her.

Today's hat was called pub/restaurant manager. It was a role she was both intimately familiar with and intensely annoyed by, more so because she was trapped in Osaka doing it. With the Kaitei-Gumi's investments into Momentum, Koyuki was reassigned to Osaka to oversee this monumental waste of time and money, safeguard its interests against the local clans, grease the wheels on extralegal matters for Elizabeth Winterbourne, the royal gaijin bitch running the show, and also-

To set up permanent alt-ambiance venues for fights. The ring was nice. She had seen it. She had fought in it, and were to up to her, that would have been enough. Her direct superior Masuyo-san and Winterbourne had far more excessive ambitions when it came to setting the tone of the martial fights to come. The ring represented legitimacy, yes, competition, but it was not the only mood they sought. They wanted the seediness of a cage brawl of questionable legal legitimacy, the implied danger of a harrowing rooftop brawl, the calculated minimalism of a pit fight only the audience as a makeshift ring. Their requests were many. Their demands were legion, but she served the interests of the Kaitei... However much she hated it. This was the first of many restaurants built around several cage-themed arenas. A seedier, more intimate setting for a smaller, more exclusive crowd.

And whatever else she may have felt about the assignment, she was not going to half-arse it. She would see it ran as a Shibuya-grade pub, she would establish its foundations, and then she would pass it on to a designated stall manager and move on to the next project. Rinse, wash, repeat.

"Stand up straight!" she shouted in Japanese at a passing waitress, who immediately jerked to attention. Posture, poise, attentiveness - anything less from service staff was unprofessional. The kitchen was behind on orders. The open bar was managing fine for now. Bouncers were short staffed and Osakians were assholes. Had to focus on that. She moved through the dimly lit club, violently yanked aside an arm that tried to grab her ass, ignore the clearly drunk man's protest, and headed to the entrance. Nakajima was a big man, towering over her, but he was just one man. The standard protocol for security management was three per main entrance.

"Problem?" she asked.

"No, all good."

"Thought I heard a gaijin making noise."

"It's all good. They settled down."

"You're hired for access control, not to take shit from gaijin." Koyuki said, side eyeing the queue, picking out the white culprits in the line. Big man and a tall blonde woman. "Here, let me show you how to talk to Gaijin. You have to be very gentle with them or they fall apart from the sound of your voice."

And so with all the grace of the lovely person that she was, a suited Koyuki Sanada walked up to the front of the queue, pointedly stared at the two gaijin, then looked past them and gestured with her thumb for the people behind them in the queue to take a seat.

The door opened, and both Jesse and Josh looked to see a woman step outside. She talked to the asshole who had denied them entry like she ran the place. In fact, it quickly became apparent that was probably exactly the case. Then when she made eye contact with the two of them, they both felt momentary relief, thinking they were about to be let in after all.

…And then the woman waved the people behind them in instead.

Knowing exactly what was about to happen next, Josh tried to reach out to his sister to stop her, but was a second too late. Jesse’s short temper had already been tested by the appalling mismanagement of the establishment’s reservation system, but this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Jesse had already stormed out of Josh’s immediate reach when he tried to stop her, and now she was getting as close as she possibly could to the bitch standing in the doorway.

“Are you fucking blind? We’ve been standing right here this whole goddamn time! We were ahead of those people! Do I gotta break some jaws to get into this shitty club?! ‘Cause I swear to god that’s where we’re gonna be real fuckin’ quick if y’all don’t get your shit together!”

Josh had been in this kind of situation enough times to know that if he continued attempting to physically pull his sister away from the situation while she was this livid, he’d be putting himself at risk of being one of those broken jaws, or at the very least getting an elbow or knee to the groin. Both scenarios he’d very much prefer to avoid. So instead he just moved to position himself off to the side between Jesse and the Japanese woman. Not directly between them, but close enough that he could try to usher his sister away, or jump in to break things up if it went too far.

“C’mon, Jess. This place ain’t worth all that and you know it. Let’s just go somewhere else before this gets outta hand,” he said, trying one last time to talk Jesse down, though history and his gut both told him it was probably a futile effort.

When the blonde got in her face, Koyuki held her ground, unperturbed as the American crossed the physical space between them and violated every single inch of her personal boundaries. The bouncer stepped forward but Koyuki held out a finger, not moving an inch of her face away, as the blonde's spittle splattered all over her face as she raved and she ranted and she projected her inner karen for the world to see.

Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic.

She had hit people for far, far, far, far less, but she was not Yakuza today. She wore the hat of a restaurant manager and some standards needed to be kept up in front of the waiting crowd. She would not throw the first stone. The boyfriend or brother or whatever stepped up between them, a huge mountain of muscle, and tried to dissuade? Wow, that was disappointing. Let's rectify that.

"Actually," Koyuki said in her thick, accented English. She seemed completely unconcerned with the blonde in her face as she turned to the man. "This place good review on Tabelong. Many 5 star. We just don't-" She jerked her head right back into the blonde's face, their noses bumping into each other. She stared her down like the blonde owed her money. "-tolerate gaijin who think make noise means move up queue. This no Alabama." Koyuki couldn't name the capital of America even if you put a map of all 50 states right in front of her, but she did remember Alabama. It was an inherently funny word. "You seem like nice guy." she said, addressing the man. He didn't. But anything to piss off the woman more. "I'm sorry you dating hag with no soul. You can do better."

She gave the man a sympathetic pat on the forearm. Damn, that was good muscle.