Mermaid Sushi

Mermaid Sushi

By:

Christopher Thompson

Photo Credit:

Yemaya Naja

Courtesy of Najaestic Entertainment

It was the neon sign that first attracted me to the place. Almost no one uses neon anymore. At least, not in the classic style. Bright pink letters in English flashed to Japanese and were overlaid atop the blue and green silhouette of a mermaid.

The words “Mermaid Sushi” blinked at me about every thirty seconds. What was likely the same in Japanese replaced it at the same interval.

The entire front of the place around the ornate looking door was covered by a massive aquarium of thick glass or plastic.

Beautiful Japanese women with fish tails occupied the massive tank, moving about with the graceful ease of professional synchronized swimmers. They were naked above the waist and their legs were covered in shimmering scales that reflected the bright lights from above and below.

This was not what I would consider a family friendly type of display but represented yet another oddity of life in Tokyo. From the ridiculously explicit manga and anime that was displayed on store shelves to the confusing need to “blur” penises in live action pornography Japanese sense of what was and was not “proper” confused me.

“What do you think?” I nudged Lionel on the shoulder and pointed at the Japanese mermaid models.

“They’re hot,” he replied, not looking at the aquarium. I turned to follow his gaze and found a gathering of girls in school uniforms in front of a shop across the street. They had obviously noticed him noticing them and had decided to give him a bit of a show, raising their skirts to provide quick flashes of white and pink panties.

“Not them,” I grabbed his shoulder and turned him away from the show toward the women in the tank. “Them!”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Also hot.”

“Think we should try it?” I had already decided that I wanted to, but didn’t want to assume that Lionel did too.

“Sure,” he replied indifferently. His eyes had started to stray back in the direction of the school girls who had moved on to other things.

I pulled the door open and we stepped inside. The light was muted and what sounded like traditional Japanese music was piped through hidden speakers. More massive aquariums filled the space behind the small counter at the entry and covered the walls. The tops of the walls, from roughly waist height to the ceiling about fifteen feet above, was a solid mass of the same glass or clear acrylic as the outside.

More girls were moving smoothly up, down, and across the space behind the glass. Unlike out front, the interior tanks looked like the United Nations of swimmers. The girls ran the gamut from pale skinned blond to midnight ebony goddess. I had no idea how they were breathing. At no point did I see one rise to the top to take a breath of fresh air. Presumably each had some kind of small device which could not be seen.

A single woman of unknown age wearing a traditional kimono of dark material stood behind a small podium at the entrance. She watched Lionel and me as we stood in the foyer but did not interrupt our viewing of the swimmers in the tanks. She knew that this was what had drawn us to the place, as I am sure it had done to many a tourist previously, and wanted to make sure that we saw all that we could before moving into the establishment proper.

Behind the woman and to the left was a long counter with a number of barstools set in front of it. A bulk of the stools were occupied by men in suits and ties who had likely just finished a long day at whatever drudgery of a job they did and were now enjoying the sight of some mostly naked girls, warm sake and some freshly prepared sushi or sashimi. I suspect that the show and the rice wine was of greater draw than the food as only a few had servings set before them.

On the other side of the counter, directly in front of one of the larger of the tanks, a pair of Japanese men in black moved gracefully back and forth preparing the meals. They moved with a silent co – ordination that came from many years of practiced experience. Light from the bright halogen pots above flashed off the rapidly moving knives they each wielded. They chopped fresh meat into bite sized pieces then pushed them aside where a second set of men, also in black, rolled the pieces into rice, added assorted items that I could not identify, or laid them gently upon long wooden trays designed to look like boats.

“Good evening,” the woman behind the small counter spoke in very heavily accented English. I looked at her and wondered if this was natural, or if she was putting us on. “Would you like table?” She gestured into the space that spread out behind the “Salarymen” seated at the bar. A collection of about twenty small tables with seating for anywhere from two to six filled the space. The area was not cramped and there was enough room between each of the tables to allow for the wait staff to pass. They were also dressed in black.

I turned back to the woman and got a better look at her kimono. It was stunning in shiny black with gold, red and purple accents. Mermaids were embroidered in the various colors on the long sleeves and the front and back of the outfit. She wore just enough make – up to darken her lips and highlight her cheeks, and had her thick, black hair up in a traditional looking bun atop her small head. She seemed ageless and could have been thirty or sixty or anywhere in between.

“A table would be great,” Lionel nodded at the woman and held up two fingers. “Somewhere we can see the girls, please.”

“Of course,” the woman answered as if no other option existed. “All table have great view of mermaids.” She picked up a pair of menus from some secret location and turned away, beckoning us to “follow please.” She moved very fast but took only the tiniest of steps.

Maybe half of the twenty or so tables in the place were filled with patrons. This consisted mostly of more Salarymen, their suits and demeanor pretty well matching that of those at the bar, and some young men who appeared to be high school students. They wore the white shirts of their uniforms in a casual manner, untucked and with sleeves rolled up. There were only a few female patrons who appeared to be either the companions of the Salarymen, or the girlfriends of the male students. Not one of the girls could have been older than seventeen. It was not uncommon for Japanese school girls to be with older men. Apparently, there was nothing sexual about it. The men would buy things for the girls and they would look cute, giggle, and basically strut around in their short skirts and provocatively open blouses for their male companion’s benefit.

I had even heard about vending machines where men could buy girls’ panties.

Japan is weird.

We reached our designated table and the small woman gestured for us to sit. I nodded my approval as she placed the menus in front of the chairs. As Lionel had requested the table gave us a clear view into the aquariums. I sat on the chair to the right. Lionel took the other and immediately opened the leather menu.

“What do you want?” he asked me as I settled onto the seat and watched the girls swimming about behind the glass.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, only half interested in the meal at this point. One of the girls had caught my attention and I was watching her as she flipped her fishtail and propelled herself through the water. “Is the menu even in English?”

“Nope,” Lionel answered after a second of further study. He let it fall on the table where it lay open to a page displaying various meals. “But it has pictures, so at least there’s that.” I glanced back at the open menu and verified what he was saying.

“Okay,” my eyes returned to the girl I had started to watch. Her skin was dark and flawless, and I could just make out the flex of tight muscle under her arms and across her abdomen. She was maybe five – five or six, hard to tell with the tail she was wearing, and maybe a hundred – ten or fifteen pounds with long turquoise colored cornrow type braids streamed behind her when she moved. As with most of the girls in the tanks when she stayed still her hair floated up towards the surface. The scales on her tail glistened as light bounced off their pearlescent sheen.

Despite her incredible beauty and the shape of her toned body, I was drawn by her eyes. Bright blue against her dark face, they matched her hair and the color of her tail. I had never in my life seen eyes as intense, or as hypnotic, as hers.

“Hello,” a new voice came from somewhere off to my left and I turned to find a young man in black standing beside the table. “My name is Takagi,” he bowed slightly in the general direction of the table, the motion intended for both of us as his new patrons. “It will be my pleasure to serve you. Any drink to start?”

“Nope,” Lionel stated before I had a chance to say anything. “We’ll take one of these,” I heard him tap his fingers on the menu with enough force to rattle the table. “And one of these.”

“Excellent choices,” Takagi intoned with what sounded like genuine truth. I hoped Lionel hadn’t just ordered the most expensive items in the place. We were running low on funds and I really did not feel like having to stay and wash dishes. “Any tea or beverage?”

“Green tea,” Lionel answered quickly. As much as I wanted some control over my meal, I was relatively happy to let him manage.

“Excellent,” our waiter answered as he collected the menus and bowed once again. He winked at me and nodded in the direction of the tank behind our table. “You like girl?”

I was not sure what he meant by that. Did he arrange dates with the models aside from his duties as a waiter? Was he trying to pimp them on a couple of unsuspecting Gaijin?

“Sure,” I answered hoping that this was not going to end up being the start of something illegal. “They’re stunning.” I was still watching the ebony beauty with one eye as I answered Takagi. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled wryly at me.

“Dark and blue eyes?” I heard a lecherous tone in his voice. “Very popular. You want to meet? Usually white tourist prefer Japanese woman.”

Was that the illicit offer I had been expecting? There was no subtle hint; no beating around the bush. Just straight out with it.

I glanced at Lionel and saw that he was smiling and nodding vigorously in my direction. He mouthed the words “do it” as he waved his hands in a “go – on” sort of fashion. I knew that if the situation had been reversed, he would not have hesitated in the slightest.

“Maybe later,” I replied with a nervous smile. “Right now I need the restroom.” I looked around the place, trying hard not to look at the blond girl in the tank. “Where is it?”

“Come,” Takagi answered as he stood upright. I don’t know if he was disappointed in my answer. “I’ll show you.”

He started across the place and I rose to follow. As I left our table I heard Lionel stifle a snicker. I refused to look back at him and focused instead on Takagi’s back as he moved between the tables and back toward the front. As he passed the bar I spotted a small door off to one side that I had not seen previously. It was marked with the universal symbol for “washrooms.” Above that was a second sign written in Japanese with smaller English text below.

Takagi pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter.

“Restrooms that way,” he pointed down the hall to my left. Behind him, to my right, was a second door that appeared to lead to some kind of kitchen or prep area. I guessed that any items not prepared behind the bar would be put together there.

“Arigato,” I gave him pretty much the end of my knowledge of the Japanese language and he grinned and bowed at me as he let the door swing shut.

I turned to proceed down the hall. Takagi went the other way and I heard the door to the kitchen open. From inside came the sounds of food preparation accompanied by a heavy voice calling out what was likely orders. I glanced back over my shoulder out of habit. What I saw was not what I would have expected. I felt all the color drain from my face and my knees began to shake as my strength was sapped.

In the quick glance I got of the space behind the second door, I managed to see what could not have been less than ten men moving about. They were rushing frantically around a large metal table that seemed to dominate the space. To each side of them were racks of knives, pots and pans, and a collection of various cooking implements. Rice cookers, a stove with a couple of pots of boiling liquid, and a deep fryer were also visible.

Spread out on the table, with thick leather straps holding her in place, was one of the performers from the aquarium. I did not recognize her. She was not one of the girls I had seen before. Only the fishtail she wore below her waist provided any indication of her identity. The tail was covered with cuts and points where chunks of the shiny scales had been removed. I caught sight of small trails of blood staining her as the door swung shut with a gentle thump and my need to use the restroom passed. I moved to the door and gently pushed it open needing to see more and hoping that no staff would need to exit.

Peering in through the small space between the door and the frame I was once again able to see the girl on the metal table. It was obvious that the table had been set up for the specific purpose of carving the girl into bits. She appeared either unconscious or dead. There was no indication that she had moved for some time. As I had seen before, there were a number of cuts and open wounds below her waist. There was no sign of torn cloth or other material and I realized that, somehow beyond all logic, the fishtail was actually a part of her body. No wonder the girls in the tanks seemed so at home in the water.

Standing next to the girl’s chest, a single man was carving small pieces of flesh away from her exposed breasts. He did this with the care and precision of a master. Each small piece was inspected closely before being placed on a small tray that rested upon the girl’s flat stomach. From where I stood, there appeared to be about a dozen pieces already spread out on the tray. Each piece was wet and shiny under the light and I felt my stomach twist and try to force itself into my throat.

The girl on the table stirred as the man next to her slipped the tip of his knife slowly into the flesh of her left breast, just below the nipple. Her eyes snapped open and locked on me. I have no idea how she even knew to look in the direction of the door.

Her pale pinkish tail twitched. The hand closest to me moved as she tried to reach in my direction but her attempt was stalled by the leather strap that surrounded her wrist. I could just make out a tiny red furrow in the skin around her wrist and wondered how many previous attempts to move her arm had been equally prevented.

I turned away from the table and slapped my hand over my mouth in time to catch the exhalation that was trying to force itself from my lungs.

Surrounding the kitchen space was a huge collection of aquariums. They were stacked from the floor to the ceiling on a series of metal shelves that gleamed under the bright lights from above. In each one was a single girl – half human and half fish. There was barely enough room in each tank for the girls to roll over and move. None of them seemed to have enough energy to move and they floated lethargically in the compact space. They, like the girl on the table and the ones out front, were naked on top. A couple of them had stained bandages plastered on their visible sides that covered wounds that had only just stopped bleeding.

I stepped slowly back from the door and let it swing shut then turned and slowly made my way back to Lionel. I felt myself walking but have no recollection of the trip.

I tapped Lionel on the shoulder.

“What?” he turned and looked up at me.

“We need to go,” I heard the crack in my voice and saw Lionel’s expression change.

“What happened?” he asked. “Did you meet the girl?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Well? What?”

“It’s something else,” I had no idea how to explain. “Go to the kitchen,” I pointed in the general direction of the door. “Then meet me outside. You’ll understand.”

Notes:

Mermaid Sushi was originally written as a 100 word "drabble" which I have included below for your entertainment:

It was the neon sign that first attracted the attention.

Beautiful women with fish tails swam around in the tanks behind the counter. They were naked above the waist, their legs covered in shimmering scales that reflected the bright lights casting down from above them.

It was not clear how they were breathing. Presumably through some kind of small device which could not be seen from where the guests sat.

Directly in front of the tanks, as pair of Japanese men in black moved gracefully back and forth preparing the meals. They chopped the fresh meat into bite sized pieces.