It had been weeks since I’d gone to the Oriental Pearl club. Try as I might to forget the woman and her song, it had me in a chokehold and I’d simply had enough. Never let a woman have power over you, Ichiro. It’s unnatural. The words of my father ran like a broken record over and over again until I found myself standing outside of the club that night. 

*** 

    “They don’t open for another ten minutes.” Stiff, he turned to see the nuisance that had disturbed his concentration. Blinking in disbelief, he couldn’t will his mouth to open. There she was standing in front of him, her gaze bold as she looked at him. At his lack of response, she crossed her arms. 

    “Do you understand English?”

    “Do you understand Japanese?” He retorted, jaw tight. Her eyebrows lifted and she cleared her throat. 

    “I haven’t seen you before. You’re new.” He felt his throat grow tight. Her voice was purely musical and it baffled him how she sounded like she was singing just from talking. There next to her was a man who shared a deeper shade of her color and his eyes weren’t as friendly or curious. 

    “Don’t talk to him Bea. Entertaining them is one thing. Talking to them is another thing. We don’t want no trouble while we here.” Head down and face hidden underneath his uniform hat, his eyes found the tops of her black heels. The delicate swish of a startling emerald green dress that he was sure contrasted aesthetically against her skin tone.

    She didn’t speak anymore and he was glad of it, both soon joined by a line of eager clubgoers ready to drink and dance. When the door finally opened, the mass exodus of people flooded in, soldiers and civilians alike. Some he recognized from his own platoon and others he didn’t. It was so peculiar to see varying shades, colors, and stations gathering in this one place of booze and illicit behavior. 

    “You’re here.” A heavy hand slapped him on the back and he snarled up his mouth at the recognizable laughter that crept up his spine like a snake. Takahashi. 

    “I thought you’d like this place.”

    “Get your hand off of me.”

    “Geez, take a chill pill. We’re both here for the same thing right?”

    “I’m going back to the barracks.” As he turned around, he was stopped by a yank on his uniform jacket. 

    “That Negro girl. You like her don’t you?” He shoved his hand away from him and he finally withdrew, lifting his hands in surrender. 

    “Calm the hell down, Matsuda. I’m just asking a question.” 

    “As you remind me all the time, liking and fucking are two different things, right?” There, that grin was back, and careful not to touch him this time, he sighed happily as the two of them headed towards the bar. 

    “You impress me more and more. You’re a hard book to read but full of surprises.” 

    “Vodka. Rocks.” He said quietly to the bartender and removed his cap. Running fingers through his growing hair, he sighed. 

    “I never took you for wanting to experiment with something so… unconventional.” 

    “You don’t take me for a lot of things Takahashi. That’s your mistake.” Gladly accepting the drink, he let the liquid fire consume him. 

    “Guess so huh?” Not a drinker it was obvious that within the first couple sips of the potent alcohol, he was drunk. 

    “I can’t focus on my drills because of her.” He drawled, asking for another shot. 

    “Your body picks whom it wants Matsuda. Stop trying to figure it out.” He snorted in dismissal and tossed the shot back. 

    “You came here to check out the American girls right?”

    “Hell fucking yeah. Get me a girl who looks like Betty Bacall and I’ll be a happy man.”     

    “Whatever,” Quiet, the two men sat drinking until the announcer gathered everyone’s attention. 

    “Let’s give a warm welcome to our pretty little songbird tonight as she serenades us again, give it up for Beatrice Jones!” The band began to play a gentle tune and she stepped forth as the spotlight shined on her, drawing all the attention towards her. 

    “Before I sing this tune, I want to welcome all the newcomers tonight. Soldier and regular. In here, we let all that outside stuff go right?” The crowd replied with a healthy rumble. She smiled, her teeth resembling pearls and lifted slim fingers to grab the microphone. 

    “It doesn’t matter what the color of skin is or where you come from. Long as the music is good and feels good, life for a while will be all right.” Her sparkling eyes drifted across the faces as the horns began to pick up tempo. 

    “My days have grown so lonely. For you I cry.”  Her voice carried graceful seduction, a swift departure from her last performance. Now that he was looking at her more clearly, the outline of her body in the form-fitting dress only made his mouth water even more with a thirst the vodka couldn't quench. 

    “For you, dear, only. Why haven’t you seen it?” Tossing back a shot of vodka, he almost choked on it as her eyes met his. She let her hand slip down the stand. 

    “I’m all for you, body and soul…” 

    “Oh shit.” Takahashi breathed as she smiled demurely at him before leaving their gaze. 

    “Magnetic isn’t she?” Both of them turned to see the old man from the first visit, nursing what looked like whiskey. 

    “Every man in here wants that one. Join the long line of suitors.”

    “I see why. She’s…”

    “She plays well off of her innocent looks. A woman like that is dangerous.” Licking his lips, he sat back against the bar and slipped hands through his hair. The heat from the lights, the bodies, and the booze had their uniforms sticking to them.  

    “Word is that she’s never been with a man let alone kissed one.” 

    “An untouched virgin who plays with the hearts of men. What a bad girl.” Takahashi said with a grin as she swayed to and fro. 

    “Her brother is her manager they say. She’s a hard girl to get close to.” Takahashi glanced over at him but he was quiet, gaze intensely set on her, cheeks flushed with intoxication. The song soon ended and she left the stage. 

    “You gonna make your move?” Grabbing his coin purse, he paid the tab and slipped on his cap. 

    “I’m going back to the barracks. I got what I came for.” His feet led him away from the place he wanted to run towards. The funny thing about him was that he loved a challenge. And he knew just how to maneuver it until he won it. 

*** 

    “Asami-chan?” Blinking sleepily, she lifted her head to find her Grandpa leaning over her, hands on the kitchen table. 

    “Ah…g-good morning Grandpa…” 

    “You look horrible.”

    “I didn’t sleep well last night Jii-chan.” 

    “Take better care of yourself.” It was said in a scold but underneath, she knew he held concern. Rubbing at her eyes, she sat up with a sigh. 

    “I am going out.” Yawning, she lifted her arms above her in a stretch. 

    “Out?”

    “That’s what I said.”

    “Where?”

    “A match of go.”

    “Ah.” 

    “Get some sleep hm?” 

    “Mm.” A soft pat to the top of her head was all she got and it made her smile as she watched him limp off to get his coat. It was times like these that made her remember the joking, laughing man she’d grown up loving. Rubbing at her eyes once more, she got up from the table. Truth be told, she’d been up all night reading his diary. Entries before 1943 were sparse and few and far between but they were there.

     Still in his adolescence, he mostly spoke about memories of his father and his school education. Extremely rigorous and brutal at times, he spoke candidly about the things the teachers made him and his classmates do. It saddened her that the children were indoctrinated with bigoted and xenophobic propaganda. It deeply saddened her to read that they were seen as nothing more than future soldiers. 

    What tickled her though was the scorching chemistry between her grandparents….already. It was in true Bea fashion to go after what she wanted and while she and grandpa hadn’t had many words, it was obvious from the entries that she was more than digging him. Sure, it was completely physical at first… the attraction between them. But, she knew something they hadn’t known. That their love would evolve, grow and last through five decades. 

    “Good morning all!” The sound of Meredith’s voice from the front of the house made her smile sleepily. 

    “‘Mornin’ Mere.” 

    “Ooh, you look exhausted.” She said, coming into the kitchen. 

    “I am exhausted. Now, that you’re here I’m going to get some sleep.”

    “Sure. Where’s Mr. Matsuda?”

    “He went to play some chess with a buddy of his.”

    “Ohhh okay then. Well, gon and get some rest.”

    “‘Kay.” Lifting heavy feet, she made it up the stairs and into bed. 

*** 

1943 

Oriental Pearl 

Closing 

    “Bea, I’m going out for a smoke. Don’t make trouble.”

    “For God’s sake Joe, I’m not a little girl. Go take your damn smoke.” Her brother grinned, leaving her in her dressing room. Sighing, she reached down to unbuckle her heels, thankful to get them bad boys off after a long night in em. A breath of relief whooshed out of her and she sat back against the chair. Taking in her reflection in the large mirror, she began to ease the pins from her hairstyle. After a while, a knock at the door drew her attention. 

    “It’s open!” Going back to removing her pins, the door slowly opened and in stepped a person that was certainly not Joe. Freezing, she let her hands drop from her now fallen curls, eyes on a now familiar face. 

    “You’ve got some guts coming in here Soldier.” She said, crossing her arms. He didn’t answer but he didn’t have to. His eyes said everything. Licking her teeth, she turned in her chair to face him. 

    “It’s not gentlemanly to come in a Lady’s dressing room.” She somehow remained calm but damn it her heart was beating like a wild bird in a cage. She’d never said much about her attraction to the man. She tried to let it go over the couple of months they’d been acquainted. Though he nearly always sat in the back by the bar, she now could easily find him in midst of the crowd. 

*** 

    She tried not to look at him. Tried to focus on her set and get off the stage. But, there was something so magnetic about him, the unnamed Japanese soldier who came early and stayed late. Over the two months they’d seen each other, he came to the club like clockwork and ordered the same kinds of drinks. She’d never spoken to him much but somehow, she wanted to fix that tonight. 

    “Bea, what you tryna get into after the show?” In a group of Negro musicians, she smiled at one such man as he gave her sweet eyes. 

    “I’m goin’ home Jed.”

    “Aw a girl like you too pretty to go home so early.”    

    “Is that right?”

    “With that pretty little dress you got on, you need to be dancin.” Rolling her eyes, she took another sip of her frozen daiquiri. Finishing the rest of the dangerously deceiving drink, she cleared her throat. 

    “What y’all gon play next?” 

    “We thinkin maybe some Fats.” 

    “I dance then.” Getting up, she inhaled sharply, lifting her hands to smooth down her dress. Pretty scandalous for her, a luxurious cream silk number that fit like a glove. The neckline was lower than she’d worn before, an elegant halter neckline, two delicate strings of pearls adorned her neck and hung down across healthy cleavage. On her arms, she wore a boa of real ostrich feathers, matching gloves that ended at her elbow, and a pretty hair decoration. Her most suggestive dress yet. Her hair had been parted to the side and curled, pinned up underneath her head to give her the appearance of a short curly pageboy.  

    Like she said before, she’d tried to ignore him. Stories had reached her recounting the inhumane things men like him did to the Chinese locals and anyone else they deemed ‘inferior’. Her brother had warned her time and time again to entertain and that’s it. But damn it, she had to talk to him. Just to say she had. And maybe after this night, she’d finally be able to put away her building attraction to him. After all, he was nice to look at but nothing could ever come between them. It just wasn’t normal. Wasn’t right. So, her brain said as her feet moved at once and they didn’t stop until they led her to him. 

    “I see you in here more often now.” At first, he didn’t even look at her, just kept nursing his vodka like she wasn’t literally standing right next to him. A flicker of annoyance burned her. 

    “Are you always this rude?” There, she’d finally gotten his attention. Those deep brown eyes turned to look at her. He’d taken his military hat off and his hair was neatly kept, clipped just below his ear. Traces of shine. Hair gel to keep it smoothed back. Up close, he was simply gorgeous. Intense monolid eyes stared at her. A lively peach complexion, his cheeks flushed the lightest of pink from intoxication. He had a straight nose bridge that flared out into a slightly wide nasal tip. He had gorgeous pouty lips and a beautifully shaped cupid’s bow. Letting those eyes slide down her body, he remained frustratingly quiet as he lifted them back up to her own. 

    “Yes. I am.” She liked the way his voice sounded when he spoke. It sounded just the way he appeared. Smooth like the vodka he favored. Powerful. Solid. Confident. Rugged. Slightly raspy.

    “Not a people person?”

    “You could say that.” 

    “Hm.” Things were quiet between them, an awkward silence that dug into her like nails. 

    “Are you done singing?” He asked, motioning for another shot. 

    “If I was? Would you leave?”

    “What makes you think you’re that important to me?” Lifting her eyebrows, she shifted her jaw before replying. 

    “Tell me I’m not and I might halfway believe you.” There, he dared to chuckle and the sound of it was brushed against her like rough fingertips on cashmere. 

    “Your purpose for disturbing me must have been to annoy me.”

    “You don’t know me well enough for me to annoy you, soldier.” 

    “You don’t know me well enough to assume I’m here for you, Negro.” Her hand lifted to slap him but she caught it just in the nick of time. Taking his drink out of his hand, she tossed back the shot nice and easy. 

    “Thanks for stating the obvious. Don’t forget about yourself.” 

    “What?”

    “I’m the poor, dumb Negro and you’re the Japanese colonizer. Right?” That seemed to strike a nerve in him because almost immediately his eyes went from cool to ice cold. 

    “I’ll let that comment pass because you so kindly offered me your drink. But, if you and I are gonna get along, we best make proper introductions, don’t you think?” He still hadn't answered her and she wouldn’t lie if she said that the expression on his face didn’t send a chill or two down her spine. Outstretching her hand, she extended it towards him. 

    “Hi. I’m Beatrice. Bea for short but that’s only if I like you. Nice to meet you….?” His jaw tightened and it took him the longest time before he lifted his hand and shook hers. 

    “Ichiro. Ichiro Matsuda.” 

    “Ichiro. Nice to meet you.” 

    “Nice to meet you, Beatrice.” 

***

     From that initial meeting, slowly but surely the two of them started to warm up around each other. She became Beatrice, No Negro added and he became Ichiro, no Japanese colonizer. Their conversations had started off strained. Awkward. Unsure. It came with the territory. She’d never felt this way before… about any man, Negro or Non Negro. She’d stopped trying to figure out how quite literally this man, made her enemy by war, could suffocate her heart and force it lame. It seemed he too had finally stopped trying to figure it out. His hooded eyes cast a spell on her and the intensity in them choked the breath from her lungs.

    “I wouldn’t enter without an invitation, Beatrice.” Throat dry, she faced the vanity and reached for her drink, some fruity number that made you forget it had alcohol in it. Taking a gulp or three, she finished it and stood up, facing him with her arms crossed. 

    “Well, that’s because I thought you were my brother, Ichiro.” The way his name rolled off her tongue made him smirk, something she’d never much seen him do before. It electrified her. 

    “I been singing all night, I’m tired and my feet hurt. I’ll ask again, what do you want, man?” 

    “I want to talk.” That brought a laugh to her and she licked her teeth.

    “I doubt that.” She answered with a sigh, reaching up to ease the remaining pins from her hair. Gliding fingers across her brother’s lighter, she slipped one of his cigarettes into her mouth and was just about to light it when it was yanked from her and thrown on the ground. 

    “What the he-” Hungry lips crushed hers, taking every ounce of breath she had. Her eyes grew wide and her hands flew up to his shoulders to push him away but weakened eventually, falling flat against them. Her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth softened. The sound of their impassioned kiss enfolded the room and quiet breath lived between them. 

    “Congratulations. You’ve kissed your first Negro woman.” She teased half-heartedly, moving to push him back. But he didn’t budge. In fact, he took a step closer, sandwiching her flush between him and the vanity. 

    “Don’t ruin the moment.” He breathed against her, leaning down to press a kiss against her tawny shoulder. 

    “Ichi-” Her words caught in her throat as he kissed down across her neck and further up toward her collarbone. Each soft press of his lips against her caused her mind to delve even deeper into intoxicated brain fog. The sound of distant jazz played sweet and soft.

    “My brother is… outside…you have to go.” He didn’t answer her immediately, sighing against her neck. She used the opportunity to wrap her arms around him. 

    “I am being deployed overseas in two days.” He said against her, breathing slow and warm. Her throat grew tight.

    “I thought you deserved to know.” Finally, he lifted his head and raised his hand to caress her cheek. 

    “Ichiro…I…”

    “I wanted you to know how I feel before I left. If it’s of any importance to you at all.” He let go of her finally and took a step back. She grabbed his hand before he could walk away and for the briefest of moments ran into his arms. It didn’t matter at that moment. What he was. What side he was on. Who she was. Or wasn’t. For a minute with everything laid at the door, they were two human beings who had developed feelings for one another… the war be damned. 

    “Be careful…please.” His answer was one last kiss and for the first time, it deepened by way of passion, desire, and tongue. It left her panting like a starving madman and she wanted more. Sucking on her fleshy bottom lip, he gently pried her hands off of his uniform and stepped back, creating distance between them that was appropriate. Swallowing so hard she heard it, he didn’t say another word as he turned on his heel and left the way he came, closing the door behind him with a gentle ‘click’.