My suit was unscathed from washing the dishes. My hair was a different story, wet with sweat and humidity from leaning over the sink full of hot water. I used a comb to slick it back off my face hoping it would help, but in comparison to the way I usually looked, it didn't do much. The girls greeting us at the entrance to Club Diamond, however, didn't seem to mind.

"Good evening sirs, welcome to Club Diamond." The two at the entrance were young, peppy, and I suspected they put all of their hostesses in training on welcoming duty to get them seen. It was a tactic I had witness work without fail, and worked flawlessly on me more times than I cared to admit. They were wearing similar off the shoulder, body hugging dresses, heavily padded in the breasts and decked in every substance that caught the light. They were beautiful, but gaudy, and I had been in the business for nearly twenty years. They didn't impress me, and I had learned from previous mistakes that they were all for show, nothing much underneath.

And older woman hurried to join them in greeting myself and my two men, and I had a suspicion I knew what she was going to say to us. She was dressed in a kimono with her hair done, a telling display to say that she was the mother lion in the den, and she was not for sale. "Good evening, gentlemen." She bowed neatly to us, her hands folded one on top of the other against her thighs in a very ladylike manner. "I make no presumptions about your occupation, however as a courtesy I must let you know that no Yakuza members are welcome in Club Diamond."

"That sounds very presumptuous indeed." I said, shoving my hands into my pants pockets under my jacket. It was not a show of being laid back and relaxed in the situation, not a show of how nonthreatening I was. It was a show of how in control I was. In that moment, it didn't matter what she said. She could try. But if I wanted to sit down and have a drink with one of her girls, then I would sit down and have a drink with one of her girls, in the end.

I returned her bow without taking my hands from my pockets. "My name is Obata Kazuhide."

"Apologies. I know who you are." She interrupted me, but didn't exit her bow. She was politely stating her authority while just as politely undermining mine.

I glanced around as much of the room as I could see from the entrance, and settled upon an empty half-circle booth in the far corner that was unoccupied. "Myself along with my men are only looking to have a drink and a conversation with a pretty lady or two. Nothing more." I began to walk past her, headed for the booth I had spotted. "Send someone nice over, I don't have any requests."

I sat back hard into the booth, draping my arms over the top and crossing one leg over the other, making myself as large as I could, taking up more space. I knew how to appear intimidating. I couldn't help the smirk that overcame my features, casting glances to my right and left addressing my men. "Just like that." I said. "Take notes, boys. That is how you will climb the ranks."

Taking a moment to let my eyes wander over the scenery, I felt as if I was observing a secret lover from afar, the sense of a scandal brewing tickling the ends of my nerves. The money. All I could see was money when I looked around Club Diamond. It was no wonder, I thought, that they didn't feel the need to share any of the profit with the Yakuza. But I would change that. Their strong points were also their weak points, and they seemed to know exactly how to Yakuza-proof the business. It was owned by a woman. I could only see women staff members. While this made them a potentially weak and easily overcome target, it also made them a difficult target, and I had the impression that they absolutely knew what they were doing. In a city ripe with Yakuza owned and run proprieties, they likely had the knowledge that any Yakuza organization would never purposely hurt women. The best tactic to use in a scenario involving women was intimidation. Destruction of property, and threats were favourites of Oda-kai, but those tactics would do us no good if we were destroying the very treasure that we sough to acquire. Sinking money needlessly into a venture that we planned to make money from was pointless to me. Negotiation was the best option, I realized, but negotiation could also take a turn.

"Obata-san." I hadn't noticed the girl approaching the table through my veil of plan-making. She set an expensive bottle on the table along with a tray of four glasses, one for myself and each of my men, and I supposed one for herself. "I hope you don't mind, I requested to serve you tonight when I heard that you were here."

She looked at me with an expression of familiarity, as if expecting me to know who she was. "Not at all, I'm flattered. But I'm not here on business tonight, so I won't be as careless with my wallet as usual."

The girl laughed, but half-covered her smile with her hand. "You don't recognize me after all." She said, forcing me to look at her with the statement. Her smile was cute, her face slightly plain but pretty under the heavy makeup. I had seen enough hostesses in the mornings without their makeup to know that she didn't need to hide behind it. "Ito." She said. "Ito Akari. From the club."

"What!" I sat up straight to get a better look at her, forming a picture in my mind's eye of the nervous girl I had trained with for comparison. "Forgive my ignorance." I placed my palms atop my thighs to give her a slight bow in apology, but it made her laugh harder. "So this job is why you're training at a Yakuza martial arts club."

She nodded happily. Her personality in the atmosphere of the bar was polar opposite from what I had witnessed in her at the club. I felt instantly that I had severely overlooked her. "I didn't know the club was run by..." She hesitated, and caught her cast a glance over my shoulder to the man sitting on my right. "...Those people when I joined. I knew it was difficult to find a place in this prefecture that isn't owned by them, but I didn't realize they trained there as well."

"I'm not insulted if you say the word."

Her smile faded as I felt her eyes increasingly bore into me. She was sizing me up, I could tell. I knew the feeling. I imagined she was looking at me in comparison to the white yukata clad version of myself at the club, a high contrast to the man I presented myself as wearing my suit. "I hope I can train with you again."

I nodded. I imagined my men were gagging at the interaction. "I'll make sure of it. What days do you train?"

She took up the bottle and began pouring a small amount, just enough for a sip, into each glass. With practiced movements, she delicately handed each of us a glass, keeping her fingers straight. She picked up the glass she poured for herself to clink together with ours in a cheer, but didn't take a sip, a detail I paid attention to. "I've been making sure to go on Wednesday and Friday. I would like to add in Monday as well, but the schedule here over the weekend goes very late, and I can't always wake up in time for the beginning of class."

"Your skill is high already, and I could tell that you take your training seriously." I complimented her, though I knew she was engaged in the conversation, and I didn't need to continue to pique her interest. "I think you'll advance quickly. Has Sensei spoken to you about rank testing?"

She held up her hand in dismissal of my comment, being modest. "No no, not yet. I still have a long way to go."

I pointed to her glass, still in her hand with as much drink as she had originally poured. "You haven't touched that at all, I've noticed."

"I'm sorry! Most clients don't notice. I didn't mean to be rude."

She began to raise the glass to take a drink, but I grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Don't drink if you don't want to." I told her. "Is there some kind of rule that is forcing you?"

"Yes, it is the rule that we have to partake in drinking with the clients. I get around it more often than not by just holding my glass. No one notices usually."

I looked over my shoulder my guard. "That's something that needs to change."

Ito leaned forward, in a surprised manner, putting her hand on my thigh. Her voice was hushed. "You said you weren't here in business." I looked at her hand on me, and she followed my gaze. She retracted quickly. "Obata-san, I'm so sorry. I'm being too bold, forgetting who you are."

"Ito-san, please continue to be yourself. I like this bold side of you." I reached into the inner breast pocket of my jacket, producing a business card to offer her. "Tell you what. I'll be at the club on Wednesday and Friday, and if you like, we can train together. If you decide to attend Monday's classes as well, you can give me a call and I'll make sure I'm there."