Richardis’s feet had suffered from her one night in Ayame’s heels and hadn’t fully recovered yet – thus Richardis was extra glad that she did not have to stand for the 35 minutes it took to get from Nishi-Kasai to Ginza.

Finally the last person had squeezed into the wagon and the train doors were closing. As the train starting moving forwards again, Richardis twisted her head to look outside. Trying to calm the uncomfortable fluttering that she felt in her stomach region, she concentrated on the houses flashing by outside. She recalled how excited she had been during her 1^st time on a train in Japan. Ayame and her parents had taken Richardis from the outskirts where they lived to the very heart of Tokyo. The small ordinary houses had gradually been replaced with taller and quirkier buildings, the faceless windows with huge advertisements, finally with buildings so tall Richardis had been unable to see their roofs while pressed against the train window.

Now the feeling the view gave her was slightly melancholic. As an exchange student visiting and living in Japan had been a dream come true and had strengthened Richardis’s belief that she could accomplish things if she only really wanted them and that the path she had chosen for herself was the right one, the one that lead to happier and more fulfilled life. 3 ½ years later she had barely moved forwards towards that life that she imagined. Now the houses outside the window seemed slightly cold and hostile.

“To the Pearl Station headquarters, please,” said Junsu to the chauffeur. He had fought with himself for a while, but he knew he couldn’t do taxis anymore. A driver had recognized him despite his disguise and Junsu had had to give him the wrong directions, to make sure he didn’t lead him Junho’s house. He had scribbled an autograph and spent half an hour figuring out which trains connections to take to get back.

The negotiations with Pearl Station had dragged on just as expected and he was growing increasingly tired. Toma-san had offered several times to take over for him, as etiquette didn’t require him to be present in person any longer. As Junho’s shooting had started however, he had nothing better to do and he felt he had accomplished something at the end of the day, even though all the formalities annoyed him.

Junsu watched the cars outside pass and the urban buildings turn into taller more massive ones. He remembered how he had 1^st visited Tokyo – back when only a small number of people in Japan had known who he was. A camera team on their heels the whole of TVXQ had travelled around Tokyo, visiting its most famous sites and fooling around at every opportunity, enjoying what was closest to holidays to them.

Last year’s late summer he had come here with Kyungah. It had been her 1^st time in Tokyo. She had been so sweet and excited, dragging him from location to location. He had willingly given in into her every request. When the music business had called him back to Seoul, he had had the worried feeling it would never be that good again. And it hadn’t been. As silly as it sounded, some of him belonged to the music business. He had sold some part of his soul to the devil it was and could only regain it if he managed to overcome the system. And until he hadn’t, everyone would always have to share him with his work.

He had thought about quitting before. Financially he could afford it without a worry. But he knew it would always nag at him if he gave up. He still had his health, years of experience and enough youth left to do it. He saw it as a silent agreement between himself, Yoochun and Jaejoong that they would continue until they had truly made a change in the music business.

Concentrating on the houses flashing past outside again, Junsu saw that they were nearing the business district where the Pearl Station headquarters were located.

10 minutes later the chauffer pulled into the private Pearl Station garages. Junsu politely thanked him for his services and headed into the main-building, where he met Toma-san, who was waiting outside one of the smaller conference rooms. “Good morning!” she greeted him with a smile. “You are exactly on time. We’ll begin any minute now.” “Good morning,” Junsu said and handed Toma-san the documents he had read through and signed last night.

“This is Ginza Station. Please exit here for connections to Shimbashi, Hibiya and Kasumigaseki”.

Richardis awoke with a start. She had lulled herself so successfully, that the announcement of the train’s arrival at the next station had barely registered on her conscious. The train came to a halt and its doors open. Richardis grabbed her hand bag, which contained nothing but her cellphone and was more of an accessory than anything else and joined the stream of people pushing to exit the train. She did so just in time, because shortly after people started pushing to get inside the train.

Breaking free of the mass of people pushing in various directions, Richardis headed to and up the next staircases leading up into the Ginza train station. She passed a variety of small shops, warm inviting bakeries and snack shops, before she reached the gates, where she inserted her ticket and was allowed through the gate.

It was midday on a weekday, but nevertheless Ginza was buzzing with people.

Richardis stopped outside the train station and had to cover her eyes from the sun. Yesterday Ayame and she had come here to check out the Shiroryuu’s location to make sure that Richardis found it on the interview day. Richardis thus knew which way to go and headed in the direction of the Shiroryuu.

Unlike the Hi no Tori which advertised itself openly, the Shiroryuu’s location was more secluded and hidden – understandably so, as the clientele visiting it preferred not to have the press following them. Going to hostess clubs was a common thing, but it wasn’t something anyone would boast about. It was private entertainment and leisure … of the slightly shady kind.

The Shiroryuu was only a corner away from the train station, its entrance an inconspicuous looking elevator in-between the backdoors of 2 large luxury clothing shops.

While waiting for the elevator, Richardis viewed her own reflection in the shiny elevator doors. Ayame had done her make-up and again she looked nothing like herself – pretty yes – but like someone else. She smiled at her reflection, but felt like a stranger was returning the smile.

At the same moment the doors slid open to reveal an empty elevator and Richardis went inside. The elevators clock showed her that she was perfectly on time, so she relaxed a little. When the elevator closed and started moving upwards Richardis was again faced with her own reflection in the shiny almost mirror like doors. If she turned her head to either side she again faced a mirror and if she turned around - she stared into her own pale face as well.

The elevator doors opened and released Richardis into a dimly lit wide windowless corridor. The sound of her heels was muffled by an expensive looking black carpet and the walls were covered in shiny tapestry that at a closer look revealed an artsy pattern incorporating numerous dragons. Richardis felt slightly intimated as she strode towards the only door at the end of the corridor.

The door slid apart to let her through and for a second she forgot that it was due to electricity, as the whole atmosphere and even the smell of the place was so mysterious, anything seemed possible. The room she entered was slightly less dim than the corridor and in it stood a reception, but there was no receptionist present. She looked around for a clock, but found none. There was no window anywhere either. Instead there was an impressive sculpture of a white dragon’s head and body looking like it had burst through the wall behind the reception. There was a huge shelf filled with expensive looking bottles, whose silver and gold labels shone in the light of the lamps placed around the room.

Several closed doors lead to other rooms, but they had no signs on them, so Richardis thought it best to wait.

She had only stood insecurely in front of a sofa next to the entrance door, when a young bulky man came in through one of the doors and without introducing himself told her to follow him.

Richardis was led through another shorter and smaller corridor with much brighter lights that hurt her eyes slightly as she had just gotten used to the dim lightening from before. Completely wordless the young man ushered her through another door into a fancy little office, where he left her with a simple: “Wait here.”

Emotionally completely drained from all her nervousness Richardis sank into a chair facing the large desk that stood in the room, but got up a few seconds later, when the door was pushed open and a woman came in. “Herutsusuprun-san! Hajimemae¹!” she said and quickly settled down behind the desk facing Richardis. “Hajimemae! Yoroshiku onegai shimasu²!” said Richardis in return and bowed low. This had to be the Mama-san – she looked like a typical Mama-san: Middle-aged, strong make-up and elegant, but modest clothing. This Mama-san was also a little on the heavy side, as Richardis saw sitting down, but despite her age she had quite a pretty face.

“My name is Mitsuko Kojima. I’m the mama-san of the Shiroryuu,” she said in excellent English. “Thank you for the opportunity to interview here!” said Richardis in Japanese, bowing while sitting down. The Mama-san chuckled: “You speak Japanese well. That is good.” “Thank you. But I still have to improve,” said Richardis, looking down while speaking, knowing this was how she was expected to express modesty. “Yes, yes. Improve you can,” said the Mama-san, fishing a package of cigarettes from the depths of her desk drawer and lighting it a second later with one of the various lighters that lay around on the desk.

Richardis, who detested smoking, moved back in her chair slightly. The Mama-san gave her an understanding smile: “It’s not good for me, I know. But it works wonders on the nerves.” Richardis looked at her in surprise. She wasn’t used to Japanese women who were her senior explaining or justifying their actions to her. This was about the most personal thing she had heard from a Japanese woman of the Mama-san’s age.

“Don’t worry about me,” Richardis replied, “it is quite alright with me.” The Mama-san chuckled again and blew a round of smoke away from Richardis in the direction of the door. “So tell me a little bit about yourself. Why are you interested in becoming a hostess?”

“I… I want to work with people,” said Richardis looking down again. “I want to improve my Japanese and make a living simultaneously. Your establishment is one of the most respected and popular in Tokyo, so I’m might not meet the standard it requires, but I’m willing to work hard.” She looked up, as the door opened again.

This time a man came in, but it wasn’t the one who had led Richardis inside the office earlier. This man looked slightly older, possibly in his early 30s, he was well dressed and had a handsome, but very serious face with thick eyebrows. “Mama-san,” he said, closing the door. “Excuse my being late. Angela-san just called in sick.” He turned to Richardis, who stood up quickly - not sure whether she was expected to or not. “Hajimemae! I am Richardis Herzsprung!” said Richardis – once again bowing low, just in case he was an important figure. The man bowed slightly in return and introduced himself as “Sungrok Choi”. That sounded Korean to Richardis and she was curious to know, but she waited for him to say more.

“Please sit down,” he said in Japanese, while he himself remained standing between the door and the desk. As quickly as Choi-san had entered the room, the Mama-san’s cigarette had mysteriously disappeared. Some cigarette smoke still hung in the air and the whole room smelled of it, but Choi-san made no remark.

“Choi-san is the owner and manager of the Shiroryuu,” the Mama-san explained, “So if you want to work here you will answer to both of us.” Richardis nodded. She hadn’t been expected to be faced with a man and a woman interviewing her. Ayame had not prepped her on what to do when faced with a Mama-san and male owner. “Grow up,” she told herself, “Things never go the way you expect them to. So it up and adapt.”

 “So,” said the Mama-san. “Do you speak any other languages?” “I speak German and English fluently,” said Richardis, keeping her eyes on the Mama-san. “And some Korean, but I’m not very good yet.” “Ah, Korean,” said the Mama-san. “Very good. Very good. And how much time have you spent living in Japan?” “One year,” answered Richardis. “I see. I see. And what qualities do you think you can bring to the table as a hostess?”

Richardis took a moment to answer. She would have started her answer with her language skills, but those were already on the table. “I enjoy conversations with a diversity of people,” she said. “I have humor. And… and I like Karaoke.”

The Mama-san chuckled again, making Richardis feel extra insecure. Did she say something wrong? “Nee, Herutsusuprun-san. This job is not for your enjoyment. This job is very serious. Rather than for your entertainment, it is for the customers,” said the Mama-san. Richardis felt very stupid. She tried to paraphrase her early statements: “I mean… I think I will enjoy my work and thus be more able to help the customer have a good time. I can mix drinks as well!”

Richardis had done a one week course at a bar back in Germany. She was not sure whether the bit of skill she had acquired would help her in any way, but she wanted to put everything out there that she could. “Oh, we have professional bartenders who prepare all the drinks,” said the Mama-san leaning back in her chair. “As a hostess, we expect that you not only work your hours here entertaining the customer, but that you prepare for it during your free time. We expect that you frequently wear new outfits so the customer doesn’t get bored. You must be informed about current events – local and abroad – in politics, in the arts and in sports, so that you will be able to have high standard conversations with our customers.  Before we give you a long-term contract, you have to prove yourself during a 2 week training period. In this time you can quit any time you want and also – should we find you inadequate for the job, we can fire you at any time as well and in both cases you will not receive payment for the days where your revenue did not meet a certain standard. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand,” said Richardis, nodding fiercely. The Mama-san’s words made her feel insecure and she felt slightly uncomfortable with Choi-san standing silently, just listening. She was not sure whether to look at him or not. When she quickly looked up at him, his gaze, which had been previously fixed on her redirected to the Mama-san and he said: “It’s time for the test, I think.” The Mama-san nodded and shouted “Hata-san!”

The young man who had led Richardis in earlier came in with a tablet, placed it on the Mama-san’s table and vanished again. “Pour me drinks, will you,” said the Mama-san. “Of course,” said Richardis, reached for the bottle and poured some of its content into the glass on the tablet. “That’s a little much for Bourbon,” said the Mama-san, but she took up the glass anyway and took a sip from it. “Now, pretend I am the customer and entertain me.”

For a moment Richardis stared at her, than she pulled herself together and fell into role like Ayame had shown her: “You must be exhausted. But I am glad you came tonight, I was getting bored myself.” The Mama-san chuckled again, but Richardis remained calm. So… if a customer chuckles at your remark? What do you do? Richardis pulled together all her self-control and continued the act.

“That went well!” said Toma-san, packing up her things. Junsu nodded and fought the impulse to stretch himself, while the room was still full of Pearl Station representative, where he had to stay fully professional.  “Kim-san, I really think I can take it from here. It is no longer necessary for you to come to every meeting. I’ll let you know when your presence is required, but for now – why don’t you enjoy some time off before you get a new busy schedule?” Junsu, who had found today’s negotiations particularly tiring, finally agreed. “I know I can rely on you, Toma-san,” he said, “I’m putting it all into your hands.”

Most Pearl Station representatives had now left the room, but a small group surrounding Yamaa-san had remained. When Yamaa-san noticed Junsu gazing at them, he came forward to talk to him: “We were wondering if you’d do as the pleasure of joining us for an early dinner at an ikazaya.” Junsu thought for a moment. Junho would be home late again. Toma-san had thought this really important. And it was Yamaa-san asking and they would be working together in the future. “Of course I’d like to,” said Junsu. Yamaa-san gave him a warm smile and waved the rest of his group to come with him.