"Where's that girl I like? Call her over!"
A drunken voice roared, mixed with the proprietress's humble apologies and forced laughter...
Hearing the man speak in English, Sean frowned slightly before rising from the pool. He leaped out of the hot spring, wrapped a towel around his waist, and stepped outside.
In the hallway outside the bathing area, two men in camouflage uniforms were shouting arrogantly. One of them had already started groping the proprietress.
Sean walked over barefoot and pushed away the man's wandering hand.
Logically, the red-light district of Kabukichō typically didn't cater to foreigners... especially those blatantly wearing military uniforms.
It was obvious these men had come from the U.S. military base stationed along Tokyo Bay. Even the yakuza who dominated Japan's underworld would find such individuals a headache to deal with.
The U.S. military bases in Japan were established in 1945 after the occupation following World War II and remained a crucial part of America's global military strategy. The continued presence of these bases was a cornerstone of the U.S.-Japan military alliance.
The Yokosuka Naval Base which is stationed along Tokyo Bay served as the headquarters for the U.S. Seventh Fleet, the most important naval facility in the Western Pacific.
The USS Ronald Reagan aircraft carrier was docked there, along with an escort fleet of eight other vessels. In addition to docking facilities, Yokosuka also housed top-tier ship repair facilities, strategically vital fuel depots, and ammunition storage.
Beyond that, there were U.S. military bases and command centers in Kyushu, Yokota, Zama, Okinawa, and other locations.
Under the guise of "protection", these bases served as a means to project American influence across the Asia-Pacific region.
As soldiers stationed on foreign soil, these American servicemen had long carried a sense of superiority. The Japanese government's repeated concessions only fueled their arrogance and propensity for violence.
For example, in 1995, three U.S. soldiers stationed in Okinawa raped a 12-year-old elementary schoolgirl, sparking massive protests across Japan...
Incidents like hit-and-runs or serial arson in residential areas were frequent, yet the perpetrators often escaped proper punishment, with most cases swept under the rug. The issue of relocating the U.S. Marine Corps Air Station Futenma even led to the resignation of a Japanese prime minister.
These examples illustrated the deep-seated resentment and fear many Japanese citizens held toward foreigners... a complex mix of hatred and apprehension.
"This isn't the place for you to cause trouble."
The man whose arm Sean had pushed aside seemed stunned at first. But when he realized the man before him wasn't Japanese, his surprise faded.
They were used to throwing their weight around without any Japanese daring to stand up to them... not even the police, who avoided intervening for fear of diplomatic incidents. At most, they'd issue a verbal warning.
"Hey man! I came all the way from the U.S. with a gun to this godforsaken place to protect these weak little shits!" the lead man said in English, completely ignoring the proprietress's grimace, "We didn't come here to soak in a damn hot spring... we came for women. Where's that little girl? I saw her earlier..."
"Haha, the little lamb is hiding over there... Bill, go find yourself a woman. I'm gonna have some fun!"
Spotting the girl holding a tray of tea at the end of the hallway, the man burst into laughter. Other guests who had come out to see the commotion quickly retreated when they saw the men in military uniforms.
"This isn't a brothel. You're attempting to use force to rape a Japanese girl. I'm pretty sure that kind of behavior is enough to get you court-martialed by your superiors at Yokosuka Naval Base once you've caused an international scandal." Sean warned.
The man's steps faltered. He turned to glare at the calm face before him, teeth grinding audibly. If not for the man's visibly toned muscles and imposing stature, the soldier might have already thrown a punch.
"F*ck!" The man spat, his glare sharp as nails, "I'll be back. Hope you're still around to stand in my way then! Don't worry, I'll make sure to f%ck that little b#tch real good."
Sean simply grinned but said nothing, turning to return to the hot spring. The girl, who had seemed frozen in fear, followed silently, kneeling behind him with her head bowed. The air between them grew heavy.
"Thank you..."
After a long pause, she finally forced out those two words.
"No need to thank me. This kind of thing happens often, right?" Sean rested his arms on the edge of the pool, his tone lazy.
The girl nodded instinctively before realizing he couldn't see her, so she answered properly, "Yeah. Even the yakuza collecting protection fees don't care. Calling the police doesn't help either."
Her calm tone surprised Sean, "Doesn't it upset you?"
He had expected more anger or fear from her.
"This is just the price Japan pays for relying on a superpower. We started a war, lost, and now we're being punished... That's just how the world works, right?"
The girl lowered her head, her messy bangs covering her eyes as her small hands kneaded his shoulders.
The tea on the wooden tray gradually cooled. Eventually, the girl brought over a pot of sake instead... Japan's national drink, developed based on the brewing methods of Chinese huangjiu.
The Japanese often said, "Sake is a gift from the gods..."
Perhaps out of gratitude for Sean's earlier intervention, the proprietress had specially sent over Hakutsuru from Kobe, one of Japan's most famous brands. Kobe and Nishinomiya were renowned as Japan's premier sake-producing regions, collectively known as "Nada Gogo", famous throughout the country.
Sean took a sip of the clear transparent sake. It was smooth, mild, and carried a faint and pleasant aroma. In short, its flavor was delicate...
...
Half an hour later, after finishing the pot of Hakutsuru, Sean ended his hot spring session, leaving a generous tip...
He didn't bother asking the girl if she wanted to accompany him to the love hotel for a 'chat'.
The girl, named Yoshimura Izumi, waited until her shift ended before silently changing into casual clothes and stepping out of the still-bustling red-light district.
Her nose twitched as if catching a scent. She wandered through the neon-lit streets of Kabukichō before finally crouching under the eaves of a building, her petite form melting into the shadows.
About an hour later, two men stumbled out, arms slung over each other's shoulders, laughing loudly and spewing vulgarities.
"Damn shame we didn't get that little bitch! I love girls like her!" The man who had argued with Sean earlier cursed under his breath.
If not for that bastard interfering, he would have had that girl pinned beneath him by now.
"There's always next time, haha! I wouldn't mind joining in!" The two drunken men staggered into a dimly lit alley, the streetlights casting a hazy glow.
A petite figure in overalls and square-toed leather shoes stood beneath one of the lights.
A night breeze swept past, lifting the girl's messy bangs, and revealing a single eye glowing crimson.