Shigeo Takahashi was a player. Favorite son of a favored family, he always had plenty of money, the best clothes, the sportiest cars…perfect hair, of course. A handsome young fellow of twenty-seven years, Shigeo fancied himself a real ladies' man – and with all he had going for him, he seldom had trouble living up to his own self-image.
And he was on the prowl tonight.
Shigeo entered the Empress Club, in the heart of Tokyo's trendy Shibuya district; exchanged a few flirty pleasantries with the hostess; and then settled himself into a booth with a clear line of sight to the bar, where any woman looking for some action would likely land.
He spotted her immediately. She was sitting alone near the end of the bar, facing away from him, but turned to her left enough that he could see her in partial profile. He couldn't see her face, but he could see the fine line of her cheek and the long, straight, dark hair flowing onto her shoulders and down the back of the navy blue suit jacket she wore. Her compact body was slender, but appeared enticingly curvaceous nonetheless.
It was her legs, though, that really caught his attention. They were exquisite. Strong, athletic – but not lumpy and bulging like a man's. These legs were smooth and shapely and oh-so-undeniably female. Shigeo could feel his body beginning to respond to them already.
It was then that he noticed that what he had originally thought were the girl's knee-high white boots were in fact white knee socks and sneakers. Shifting his gaze back up to her thighs, he saw that her skirt appeared to be pleated wool in a muted gray plaid. My God, he thought, ten to one that navy suit jacket was going to turn out to be a school blazer! This girl was sitting at the bar in full "school girl" regalia!
Shigeo could think of only two reasons a grown woman would be wearing that outfit in public:
She might be a prostitute – in which case Shigeo wasn't interested, for although he could certainly afford to pay for it, his ego would never allow it. The Empress, though, had a reputation for being very unfriendly to hookers; they were usually identified and bounced rather quickly.
The second possibility was that she was a woman looking for some fun who understood the prurient appeal of that outfit. If that was the case, Shigeo realized, he might be in for a very memorable evening indeed!
He stood and walked over to lean against the bar only a few feet away from the girl. He took the time to order another drink from the bartender before turning to face her. She was already looking up at him.
Shigeo was unprepared for how young the girl actually looked. He would have guessed her age at around seventeen, but she could well have been even younger. For a moment, he considered walking away, for while he personally had no particular moral reservations concerning so-called "jail bait," he was still wise enough to understand that it was his father's generosity with the family fortune that allowed him his easy life of privilege. The old man would no doubt be less than pleased to have the family name sullied by salacious rumors that his eldest son was engaging in sordid trysts with underage school girls.
As he studied the girl's face, however, any thoughts of walking away quickly faded for, young though she might be, she was also strikingly beautiful. She had full, sensuous lips and flawless almond skin. Her shiny, dark brown hair was cut long, with full bangs reaching to her eyebrows – the typical school girl cliché, but still quite becoming on her. Her nose was prominent, lending a classic nobility to her beauty. Her eyes were large and dark and they gazed back at Shigeo with arresting directness.
And besides, Shigeo reasoned, she almost certainly had to be of age, despite her youthful appearance. She was, after all, sitting at the bar of the Empress Club openly drinking alcohol not ten feet away from the club's bartender. Shigeo knew that as much as the management of the Empress disliked hookers, they took an even dimmer view of misbehaving minors potentially threatening the club's permit to sell liquor. If she had convinced the Empress's bartender that she was over twenty (the legal drinking age in Tokyo), that was good enough for Shigeo. He pushed his concerns aside and pressed ahead.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked the girl, indicating the barstool next to hers.
She continued looking up at him, but said nothing. Choosing to interpret her silence as consent, Shigeo smiled and sat down next to her.
"My name is Shigeo," he said. The girl continued staring at him, saying nothing. "Shigeo Takahashi," he expanded. His family name often had a positive effect on the young ladies he met. "And you are...?"
The girl continued silently staring into his eyes for a long moment. "Gogo," she finally volunteered.
"Gogo!" Shigeo smiled. "That's an interesting name! Gogo what?"
Again, the girl paused, as if considering her answer, before speaking. "Just Gogo."
At this point, Shigeo began to feel uneasy. It wasn't just that the girl's voice was unnaturally flat and devoid of emotion; it was the way she was looking at him. Her gaze, so direct and unwavering, was becoming unnerving. Within her eyes, which he had initially found so attractive, Shigeo thought he detected an unsettling tinge of malevolence and even contempt. Shigeo felt a chill run through his spine.
Just as he was seriously considering taking his search for overnight companionship elsewhere, however, the girl shifted her body and re-crossed her legs. She moved fluidly, sensuously, with cat-like grace. And the maneuver had provided Shigeo – probably intentionally, he thought – with a fleeting glimpse of an enticing expanse of bare inner thigh under the woolen pleats of her skirt.
Shigeo allowed his eyes to roam over her body and face again. She really was extraordinarily attractive and, what the hell, he thought, it wasn't her fault she had an odd stare, right?
"So," Shigeo said, "That's an interesting outfit you're wearing."
The girl gave him that dreadful, silent stare again for several moments, as though debating with herself whether to take the next step, and then she said, "There are some private booths in the back. We could talk more freely there."
Shigeo almost choked on his drink. He had, of course, been planning to make that very same suggestion himself, but not so soon! The girl was making it easy for him. "What a wonderful idea!" he said, beaming.
As he started to stand, Shigeo's attention was caught by movement over the girl's right shoulder from behind the bar. It was the bartender, trying to get his attention while apparently not wanting to attract the girl's. Once he caught Shigeo's eye, the bartender said nothing, but stared back intently, shook his head, and mouthed the word "No!"
What the…? Was he trying to warn Shigeo away from the girl? Shigeo chuckled to himself. Screw you, Jack, he thought. You've had ever since she first came in here tonight to work on her. It's my turn now!
Shigeo picked up his and the girl's drinks and, giving the bartender a dismissive sneer, headed toward the booths with her. The bartender could do nothing but helplessly watch them go.
Shigeo couldn't know it, but the bartender had just risked his own life trying to warn Shigeo that he was – literally – flirting with death.
The private booths at the back of the Empress were, indeed, private – individual small alcoves, each containing a small serving table surrounded on three sides by generous, well-cushioned seating, and curtains across the entry that could be drawn for total privacy. Shigeo knew from past visits that once those curtains were drawn, there would be no interruptions from the Empress's staff.
Although Shigeo normally took the young women he met to an apartment he maintained in the city, this girl was such an odd bird that he felt uncomfortable about taking her there, even though he badly wanted her body. So he callously decided he would have sex with her in the booth, and then send her on her way.
After the waiter had brought them two more drinks, Shigeo pulled the curtains closed and sat down next to the girl. He decided to eschew any more attempts at small talk and instead leaned forward to kiss her. She did not try to pull away, but neither did she respond to him. She simply sat, motionless and seemingly disinterested, while he pressed his lips against hers. Annoyed, he pulled back – but unwilling to give up, he leaned forward again, trailing kisses from the corner of her mouth to behind her ear and then down along the side of her neck. Again, she did not protest or try to pull away; she simply remained motionless and expressionless.
As Shigeo kissed and nibbled at her neck, he raised his left hand to unfasten the buttons on her blazer and pulled the garment open, exposing the white blouse underneath. Gently brushing his fingers across the crisp, white cotton, he was pleasantly surprised to find that, despite her outward display of indifference, it was erotically obvious that she was definitely aroused by the prospect of something!
Emboldened, Shigeo continued fondling her as he kissed his way back up her neck to nuzzle behind her ear again, marveling at the magnificent silkiness of her hair as it brushed against his cheek. He dropped his hand to her knee, and then slid it up between those marvelous, athletic thighs. Shigeo thought she parted her legs slightly for him and he detected a small increase in her rate of breathing.
He moved his hand farther up, onto her soft cotton panties, and began exploring her through the thin fabric, his fingers tracing the soft, warm contours of her body. As he continued touching her, the girl's breathing became deeper and more rapid. She leaned into him, resting her chin on his shoulder, her cheek warm against the side of his neck. "Now," Shigeo whispered to her, "doesn't this feel good?"
She moved her lips to his ear and whispered back, "I have something I have to ask you."
Shigeo felt the girl's hand sliding up along the inside of his thigh and onto his crotch. He kissed her neck again and whispered to her, "Baby, you can ask me anything you want."
She pulled her head back to look into his eyes and smiled at him. "Okay…"
Shigeo's smug satisfaction was suddenly shattered by searing, piercing pain as the girl's hand between his legs clamped down on him like a vise. Yelping in pain and surprise, he tried to leap back away from her, but his legs were useless.
"When did I give you permission to touch me?" the girl growled, her voice low and menacing.
Shigeo wordlessly stared back at her in pain and confusion.
She tightened her grip on him, causing his face to twist in agony and forcing a strangled, gurgling moan from his lips. "I said…when did I give you permission to touch me?"
"N…N…Never?" Shigeo whimpered.
The next few moments were just a blur of motion to Shigeo. He had an impression of the girl bolting from her seat to stand in front of him. A glint of shiny metal flashed across his face and he felt something warm flowing down the side of his neck and onto his shirt collar. The pain came a split second later – a sharp, stinging sensation on the side of his face.
Then the girl's hand was in his hair, yanking him to his feet and shoving his head downward. At the same time, her knee rocketed upward, smashing into his face. Blood spurted from his nose as he reeled backward onto the table, bringing it crashing to the floor with him.
Before he could react, the girl was on top of him, her face inches from his, her eyes blazing with fury. He froze in fear as he felt the terrifying tickle of a very sharp blade against his throat. "You asshole pig!" she hissed. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight – and that I don't have the time to stay here and kill you slowly, the way you deserve!"
She then reared back and viciously backhanded Shigeo across his already smashed nose, sending a knife blade of pain shooting through his head. And then…blackness…
When Shigeo opened his eyes again, he saw the bartender's face hovering over him. It took him a few moments to recall where he was. He tried to speak, but was overcome by a sudden wave of nausea. He rolled onto his side and vomited onto the carpet, which was already stained with fresh blood…his own, Shigeo realized.
When his heaving subsided, the bartender helped him roll back onto his back. "Just try to lie still," the bartender said. "You were out for quite a while."
Shigeo reached up to touch his throbbing face, but the merest pressure brought intense pain. When he pulled his hand away, his fingertips were coated with blood.
"Jesus!" he croaked. "That fucking psycho bitch! Look what she did to me!"
"Don't worry," said the bartender. "She's gone. Besides, you got off easy tonight."
"Easy?" Shigeo spat, incredulously.
"Oh, this isn't the first time that little monster has left me a mess to clean up," the bartender said. "And believe me, it's usually much, much worse than this."
Shigeo stared at the bartender. "You know that bitch? Goddammit, you give me her name! I'm going to have that fucking psycho locked up!"
The bartender just grinned and shook his head. "Forget it, buddy. And just count your blessings. This is a night for you to celebrate!" Then the grin disappeared and he turned deadly serious. "You don't know how fucking lucky you are to still be breathing."
Shigeo heard the seriousness in the bartender's voice…and believed him. He felt a cold ball of fear forming in the pit of his belly. "My God, man," he whispered in awe. "Who is she?"
"She's yakuza," the bartender said. "Bad yakuza – the kind you don't want to fuck with, believe me! She comes here whenever she wants, takes whatever she wants, does whatever she wants. Nothing we can do but clean up after her." He looked down at Shigeo. "It's probably best if you don't come around here anymore. If she saw you again, she might not let you off so easily the next time."
The bartender reached down to take Shigeo's arm. "How about it? You feel up to trying to stand? If we can get you to my car, I'll drive you to the emergency room. She laid your cheek open pretty good; you're going to need stitches. And that nose is probably broken."
At the emergency room, it turned out that Shigeo's nose wasn't broken after all – although it would, over the next several days, swell to nearly twice its normal size and turn shades of black, blue and purple that Shigeo had never even imagined. Both of his eyes had begun to blacken even before the doctor's examination was completed.
The slash on his cheek took nine stitches to close, and the doctor told him the cut was deep enough that it would probably leave a permanent scar. The doctor also said that he could expect acute tenderness and swelling of his testicles for the next several days due to the vice-like grip the girl had applied to him.
Despite all of it, by the time Shigeo left the emergency room, he felt lucky. He felt lucky just to be alive. He remembered the girl's eyes boring into him in the final moments of her attack, just inches from his own. Those eyes had been filled with hate and contempt, but even more they had been filled with…madness…and an almost inhuman coldness. Shigeo found himself shivering in the warm night air.
Shigeo never went near the Empress Club again. In fact, it was a long time before he ever went near any bar again. Eventually, he did try to resume his womanizing ways, but he was never able to enjoy it with the same reckless abandon as before. With every pretty new face, there was always a voice in the back of his mind asking, "But who is this girl, really? And what if…?"
The image of the girl – or, perhaps, the demon – that he had encountered that night in the Empress Club would stay with Shigeo for the rest of his life. To his dying day, he would remain able to be moved to tears by the memory of her beautiful face or paralyzed with terror at the memory of the dreadful, cold deadliness he had seen within her eyes.