Ranko bowed, her cheeks aglow with an enthusiastic smile. The patronage of the bar still cheered as the last note of a Japanese pop song faded from the air.


    “Thanks, everybody!” She waved excitedly from the stage, taking advantage of her elevated position to survey the tables for anyone who needed her attention. “I’ll be around in just a second to check on you all!”


    A few of her regulars waved back to her from their seats. They’d quickly become accustomed to the routine in the last few weeks, whereby their table service was occasionally unavailable for a few minutes on account of her needing to go croon a love ballad on the bar’s tiny corner stage. The bar’s staff had settled into a routine in which, on busy nights where the full complement was on shift, Ranko would cover the half of the tables closest to the stage, and Mei the far half nearer to the front door. That left Yui to run the main bar for people who walked up to buy a drink, Izumi behind the service bar crafting cocktails for Ranko and Mei to deliver to the tables, and Hana running the kitchen. As it was late in the evening, food orders had dwindled, however, and the majority of the orders being taken were of the alcoholic variety.


    Ranko hopped down from her little corner platform and retrieved her notepad and serving tray from atop the karaoke monitor. That done, she headed toward table nineteen, the closest of her tables. “Hey, everybody! We all having a good night? What can I get you? Anybody need anything topped off?”


    The six young men at the table all started shouting their orders to her at once, a cacophony of cocktail names and special requests raining down on the flummoxed server.


    “Whoa! Easy, boys!” Ranko held up her hands in surrender. “I can only handle one of you at a time.”


    A black-haired guy in a brown leather jacket snickered wolfishly, and Ranko could only shake her head and roll her eyes in his direction. Honestly, dude? Why you gotta make it all nasty like that? I’ve only been a cute girl working at a bar for a couple of weeks, but I’ve already seen plenty of shit that makes me ashamed I was ever a guy. I hope I never came off all gross like that with women. Especially Akane.


    After a high-five or two and a smattering of laughter, the half-dozen patrons eventually calmed down enough to give Ranko their orders individually. Having jotted them all on her notepad, she headed for the service bar to relay the drink requests to Izumi. She stopped behind the main bar to drop a few empty glasses off in the dishwasher.


    “Hey, Ranko, honey?” Hana waved to the redhead from behind the blue saloon door. She wasn’t used to standing idle on a busy night, but since Ranko had acclimated to her role, her girls had become so efficient that she barely had anything to do some nights, especially when the kitchen was slow. “Are you doing okay? You haven’t had a break in a few hours.”


    The redhead grinned, waving dismissively in the direction of her adoptive mother as she scooped her tray back into her hand. “I’m alright, Mama! It’ll take more than a few catcalls to wear me out.”


    Hana laughed with a shake of her head. “I was more worried about your dance routines up there, goofball, but alright. If you’re sure. Let me know if you change your mind, okay? Things are quiet enough back here that I could cover for you for a minute, if you need to sit down.”


    Ranko grinned, chuckling under her breath. If she only knew how much physical exertion I’m used to enduring. I could do this shit all day.


    A sliver of moonlight pierced the darkened front half of the bar as the glass double door opened, admitting three tall men into the establishment from the street. All wore conservative business suits, and they definitely didn’t look like they belonged in a dive bar in Japan at midnight on a work day. From their appearance, Ranko wondered if they were Americans.


    Ranko smoothed her lavender sundress around her hips, adjusting her ponytail as she walked up to the hostess stand. She willed herself to suppress a shiver as she stepped into the colder air that had followed the men into the bar, greeting the newcomers with a welcoming wave. “Hi, guys! Looking for a table, or would you rather sit at the bar?”


    The tallest of the three replied, but in English. “We’re okay. Thanks.”


    Ranko looked at him with a bit of confusion, but he extended his palm in a back off gesture and led his party to an empty table near the stage. Once seated, the men all began looking over the drink menus, having said nothing further to their server.


    Well, alright, Ranko thought with a shrug and a sigh. Good to see you too, I guess.


    Ranko made a pass by the bar, picking up the six drinks for the table with the rowdy guys at table nineteen and dropping them off. She only had to dodge one hand trying to sneak up the back of her dress as she passed out the cocktails. One of these days, someone is going to catch me in a bad mood with that nonsense, and they’re gonna have to explain to their wife how their wrist got broken when they get home. You guys are lucky that I need to protect the reputation of the bar for Mama, and I don’t want the girls to know how good I really am at martial arts, because way too many of these dudes have had an asskickin’ on back order for long enough as it is. Suppressing her instinct to punch the offender, she instead flashed a furious glare at the black-haired man as she stepped out of his reach, hoping he got the hint.


    After picking up a few empty glasses and topping off a few beers from a pitcher, she decided to check on the Americans again. She sidled up to table twelve with an exuberant wave, trying to bury her frustration at the boys at table nineteen, and also to offset the brusque greeting the Americans had given her at the hostess stand, by killing them with kindness. “Hi, everybody! My name’s Ranko, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Welcome to the Phoenix! What looks good to you?”


    The American who had spoken to her at the hostess stand rolled his eyes, responding very slowly, almost condescendingly, in English. “Three beers and some cheese sticks.” He tossed the laminated menu to the tabletop, shaking his head in disgust.


    Ranko bit her lip, nodding and heading back to Izumi to relay the drink order before slipping through the saloon door to ask Hana to prepare the food. One of these days, I gotta learn how all these machines and crap work back here, so I can help out more. I wanna learn how every little thing in this place runs. I don’t want there to be a single thing I can’t do to help them, after everything they’ve done for me.


    She buzzed back down the narrow white hallway to the front of the house, scanning the back half of the bar room from behind the twin counters. Seeing that her tables all appeared to be fairly contented for the moment, Ranko rinsed out a few glasses and started the dishwasher while Izumi continued preparing drinks.


    As her sister still had a few drinks lined up in the queue ahead of table twelve, Ranko walked to the back corner next to the stage to kill a few minutes. She glanced through the music catalog on the karaoke machine, trying to decide what she might want to sing next and blushing at some of the costumes the girls on the album covers were wearing. It’s only a matter of time before Izzi manages to stuff me in something ridiculous like that when I sing. She’s already tried more than once. Gods only know what kinda sadistic getup she’s gonna make me wear for her wedding. At least that, I won’t be suffering alone; Yui and the other girls are gonna have to do it too.


    Seeing the drinks for table twelve being lined up on the counter, Ranko rushed back to collect them, “Thanks, Izzi!”


    “You got it, sis,” the brunette bartender said with a grin and a nod of her head as she shook a cosmopolitan over her shoulder in her aluminum tin.


    Not wanting to further frustrate the irritable-seeming Americans with further delay, Ranko hurried to table twelve. “Here you go, guys!” She placed a frosted glass of cider in front of each of the men, flashing each a bright smile of their own. “Your food should be right up.”


    One of the Americans looked over his pilsner glass in disgust, pushing it back in her direction on the tabletop. “We said beer. What the fuck is this?” came his angry English reply.


    Ranko looked over the glass. What’s the issue? She didn’t understand his frustrated glare. “Is it flat? That can happen sometimes when we get a little backed up behind the bar. I’ll get you some new ones right away! Sorry about that!” This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    She picked up all three glasses, placing them on her tray and returning to the bar counters. As Izumi was still buried in orders, she approached the main bar instead. “Yui, I think these got messed up somehow. I don’t know what’s wrong, but they didn’t want ‘em. Maybe the glasses are dirty or something?”


    Yui looked over the glasses, shrugging and pouring the first of them out in the sink behind the bar. “Those seemed fine, but we’ll redo them anyway. I know that type can be picky sometimes,” she said with a sigh. “Sometimes, I think they just want to make you do something twice so they know you paid attention. Sorry they’re giving you a hard time.”


    While Yui popped open some fresh bottles, Hana emerged from the kitchen with the food order for table twelve, which Ranko gratefully accepted. The redhead headed over to the table again, hoping to placate the irritable patrons. “Hi again! So sorry about your drinks; your new ones are almost ready! In the meantime, here’s your appetizer!” She placed a tray of nachos at the center of the table, walking off before she heard the shortest of the three exclaim in English, “What the hell?!”


    Just can’t make these guys happy tonight. Damn! What’s got them so pissy? She quickly grabbed the three new ciders, this time serving them in the bottles to help ensure that they didn’t lose carbonation in the pouring.


    When she placed them in front of the three men, one of them slammed the table with his palm. “Oh, come on!”


    Ranko looked at the three of them, a little panicked. She was trying to determine what to do next when she heard Hana’s voice over her shoulder, speaking in English to the man who had smacked the table.


    “Is everything okay over here? Anything I can do for you?”


    The frustrated man motioned to Ranko as he looked up to Hana, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. You can get rid of this ditzy bitch and find us somebody who can get our orders right!”


    Hana glared at them, raising her voice a little. “Hey now. We’re sorry that your order wasn’t right, and I’ll be happy to fix it for you, but I won’t have you talking about my girls like that!”


    The brash American groaned, gesturing in Ranko’s direction again. “Why not? It’s not like the fucking idiot has any idea what I’m saying.”


    Ranko, for her part, stood at Hana’s side like a deer in headlights, feeling quite ashamed that the owner had felt the need to get involved in one of her tables at all. I’m supposed to do this stuff so she doesn’t have to. It’s my job, she fretted nervously.


    Hana’s furious eyes panned the irritated trio, and she crossed her arms over her breasts with a creak of the well-worn black leather jacket she was almost never seen without. “What did you order to drink?”


    The youngest-looking of the three Americans chimed up. “Just three beers. Not like it’s especially difficult.”


    Hana nodded sharply. “Alright. You got it. I’ll get you three beers, no charge. You can drink them on your way out the door.”


    The proprietress’ voice had an angry edge that Ranko hadn’t heard much before, and it was deeply unsettling to the bar’s youngest employee. Oh, shit. I pissed her off. Fuck.


    The man sitting in the middle of the three motioned angrily toward Ranko, smacking the table hard enough to shake it and draw the attention of a nearby couple having a date at table eleven. “Can you believe this shit? You’re kicking us out because you can’t hire competent help? Whatever, lady! I bet the place down the street has cuter girls, anyway.”


    Hana motioned for Ranko to follow her, and stalked angrily up to the bar. “Yui, get me three beers, in to-go cups, for our douchebag friends. Quickly, please.”


    Ranko frowned, grimacing at Hana’s Japanese instructions to her older sister. Of course they were upset! I got their order wrong! Fuck, I probably screwed up their food, too!


    When the beers were placed on the counter, Ranko hurriedly reached for one, glad for the opportunity to correct her mistake. She looked up, worry in her eyes, as Hana grabbed her wrist and prevented her from taking hold of the first plastic cup.


    “Nuh-uh. You, sit.” Hana pointed to the closest bar stool. “You aren’t going anywhere near that table until those guys are gone, you got me?”


    “I… yes, ma’am.” Ranko mounted one of the brown vinyl-covered bar stools, looking down at the countertop with a sullen expression on her face. She hadn’t really made too many mistakes since she started working at the bar, and she didn’t like how it felt at all.


    Hana collected the full cups in her arms, carrying them to table twelve. She handed each of the men a beer and waited until they stood before physically shepherding them toward the front door.


    Ranko didn’t know what was being said, but she couldn’t imagine any of it was pleasant. She wanted to go over to them and apologize; to try to make up for her mistake. Better not. Mama made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t to talk to them any more. The last thing I wanna do is disobey her and make her even angrier.


    When Hana returned, she motioned for Ranko to stand. “C’mere, Ranko.”


    Seeing the dejection in her sister’s eyes, Mei turned to follow and offer support, but Hana waved her off. The matriarch of the Phoenix gave Mei a reassuring smile that Ranko did not see. “Give us a minute, please, Mei? Hold the fort for us out here?”


    Mei nodded, and looked over the floor to see if any of Ranko’s tables needed anything.


    Meanwhile, Ranko followed her adoptive mother into her office, hanging her head. She did not like how the situation was playing out, at all. While she hoped it was just Hana’s frustration at the rude guests, there was a stiffness in the old barkeep’s mannerisms that terrified Ranko. Am I… going to be let go?


    When the office door latched closed, she could wait no longer to plead her case. “Mam… Hana, I’m so sorry I messed up their table. I promise I’ll be more careful next time.” She bowed stiffly to the elder woman, remaining bent at the waist with her eyes to the floor.


    Hana, for her part, looked up at her daughter with a puzzled expression that quickly changed into one of disarming understanding as she slipped into the ratty black office chair behind her overflowing desk. “Ranko, honey, come on. Stop that. I’m not mad at you! Not at all. Those guys were jerks. We don’t need their kind around here.”


    The redhead exhaled heavily, and her mother could see her fear begin to dissipate in her muscles as Ranko straightened her back and opened her mouth to speak. “Then, what is…”


    The bar’s owner put up a hand to interrupt Ranko’s words. “You… don’t speak English, do you?”


    Ranko grimaced and shook her head. “A few words and phrases here and there. That’s it. I’m… I’m really sorry.”


    “But…” Hana blinked in confusion. “You’ve sung plenty of American songs out there. What am I missing?”


    The young singer shrugged. “I practice the American ones until I can mostly make the noises I hear in the track like I’m supposed to. I don’t have the slightest idea what the heck I’m singing about, most of the time.” I really hope it’s nothing gross; I mostly just pick them from the pictures in the computer thing.


    Hana nodded, a concerned expression on her face. “I don’t understand. It’s been a minute since I went to school, but I know high schools require a couple years of English classes.” Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open slightly as the realization struck home. “You… never finished school, did you?”


    Ranko did not answer in words, but the shame with which she bowed her head told the proprietress all she needed to know.


    “Oh, honey…”  Hana’s hand rose to cover her open mouth.


    Ranko sighed, only speaking after a long few seconds of silence. “With all the time I spent traveling with my father, I was probably years behind anyway. I think they only put me in the grade I was in last year because Pop knew somebody on the city council, and I didn’t even pass that.” She bowed at the waist again. “I’m so sorry.”


    Hana stood from her chair. She closed the distance between them in two quick steps, and as Ranko rose from her bow, Hana wrapped her arms around the slender girl. “Sweetheart, stop that. Don’t you dare apologize.”


    What I would give to be able to get my hands around the throat of this poor kid’s father, just for a minute, and give him a piece of my mind for all the shit he put her through, Hana thought as she held the slightly trembling teenager.


    “Listen to me, Ranko. Everything is okay. I’m not upset with you at all. We’re going to find a way to make this easier for you, I promise. I just need to think on it for a minute and figure out what to do. In the meantime, if you get any other customers that don’t speak Japanese, just come get me or one of your sisters. We’ll handle it.”


    Ranko cringed. “I…” She lowered her head. “Yes, ma’am. I guess I’ll need to tell the other girls, then.” She bit her lip, her embarrassment painted all over her face.


    Hana shook her head, giving her charge another squeeze around the shoulders. “I’ll take care of it.”


    The redhead stepped back from the embrace, wiping her eyes before they could well past the point of no return. “I should… get back out there.”