Prologue
It had been a long night, a long boat ride, a long everything made it into the large city. New York, now this was something to behold. I knew I'd need to make money for my trip to San Fransisco. Yet, I knew I could do anything.
Being a woman of Japanese descent in the 1920s was hard enough, but the fact I looked like a boy was even more challenging. My father had sent for me since he'd settled not long ago. Opened a hotel and said life was going well. Many men assaulted me for being too feminine of a guy, but the money still came. The odd jobs of hustling, street brawls, and gang-type activities helped me meet some influential people I would bring along with me on my trek out west. Not all of them knew I was female, but the ones who did hold me in high esteem.
Today I'm packing up, ready to move out of this pit of a shit city they call New York and move into better things. I now have two of their very best bodyguards to tag along. They are the most delectable twins I have ever seen. Not only are they my protection, but they are also mine. I hope dad has a great business started. Because I will have a blast making sure his patrons are delighted.
The train ride was exhausting. Three "men" cramped into one compartment. Whenever we'd go to eat, people would stare. Just because I enjoy my men doesn't mean I'm quiet. We've had to throw a few ruffians from the side. I make sure it's near towns first. I'm cruel, but not that cruel.
My month in New York allowed me to move up the ranks fairly quickly. Like I've said, no one knew I was a woman, but those I became more intimately attached to. Not many gangsters that aren't of Italian descent are given more freedom, but I'm strong and have a way with numbers. They trusted me, and now we are going to my dad's hotel. I hope he's okay with what we have started and with whom.
When we arrived, its pouring rain, and my boots were slick with the sticky mud of the unpaved roads of Chinatown. Since most residents in Chinatown were of Chinese descent, there were still Pilipino and Japanese. The town was still very segregated. But I wasn't looking for perfection. I was looking for a home.
We arrived around 1 am, and the place was going crazy. At the end of a very short alleyway was a building with only a door and no windows. People were coming in and out, police, firefighters, chauffeurs, white, black, Chinese, and Japanese. It didn't matter. My father must have been paying off people well to still serve liquor in 1922.
I pulled my jacket tighter to hide more, and my two escorts entered the building full of music and fun. Women were sitting on men's laps, people off in dark corners doing what pleased their drunk-addled minds.
"Ready, boss?" the one twin said to me.
Nodding my head as an affirmation, we walked to the bar, where I saw my father. His clothes are beautiful, his hair in a beautiful chignon. His kimono was a deep purple with the sleeves and end dipping into a lavender, almost white. The obi, a soft sun yellow, tied neatly at his back. The layers for his undergarments are a light grey. Tiny details of cranes started at the bottom and trailed up his back into a beautiful arrangement of a sunset near the ocean. My mother had made that for him. She had the best stitch work ever. It was breathtaking.
"Hey, boss, I thought your father was here. Come on, let's look around." Said the one.
"Ya, that woman seems like she might know. Hey, what about the guy over there. The blonde, he might know as well." Said the other.
I just smiled and raised my hand to tell them not to speak. "Why don't you two go do something. I got this. That woman over there is my dad."
They just raised their shoulders in response, bowed, and walked to look around.
He noticed me as soon as he looked in my direction when there was a lull in the orders. He smiled, and that is how it all started.