the moment mariko asked if she could make her something was also the moment that millie actually took in her surroundings. a cafe. that was comforting, maybe the world wasn’t entirely against her. “ yeah, please, that would be great, ” she said, relaxing a little at the very idea of a nice coffee. better yet if she could get it made the pretentious way she liked it. “ do y’all do pour overs? ” she asked. she suspected it might be too much to ask of bay river, but if she was going to have luck anywhere it would be somewhere with an espresso machine, and millie was nothing if not hopeful. she perked up when they continued. they worked in a cafe and might be able to help her with her car troubles? what a woman. “ yeah? ” it’s not that she doubted her, it was just a very lucky and very happy turn around of the horrible ( average ) day she was having so far. when asked about the age of the car, millie had to think. truthfully, she had no idea. older than her, she thought. but she also knew jack shit about cars so she didn’t really have a clue. “ it’s like 80s, or 90s, i think, ” she said, “ it’s got a tape player in it, so, like, old, ” she emphasised with a small laugh. but then she realised something the other had said that she’d completely let slip. “ wait– did you just say you know how to hot wire a car? ” maybe not so directly but she was fairly certain that was what had been implied at least. “ you’re kidding, ” she decided with a smile, hoping the other might indulge her on a little more information.
A light, customer support smile hit Mariko’s lips as she was finally tasked with something to do. “We do, in fact, do pour overs. What kind would you like?” she inquired, turning to get the pour over stand. The relief was clear in Mariko’s face once she confirmed how old the car was. “Thank god. In like the early 2000s, with like chips and shit it made it way harder.” At the other’s question, she chuckles slightly, leaning against the curtain. A hand places itself in her apron’s pocket. God, she’s missed human interaction. Her cheeks flushed slightly, suddenly realizing hotwiring isn’t a skill most people have. “Long story short, I grew up in a shitty place of New York. It’s not hard, but I will tell you it will probably fuck your car up a little.” She pauses, duh that’s not something everyone is comfortable doing. Her and her dad only did it to steal cars, so it didn’t matter much. “So I’ll leave that decision to you. It can get your running, or I can maybe try to call you a tow-truck?” A light shrug with a shake of her head follows. “It’s entirely up to you. But it’d be kinda messed up of me to just hot wire your car and then not tell you it isn’t harmless.”
there was a the kinks record playing in the store. bobby had chosen records as the backing for his store because he just really liked the vibe of that. bookshop that almost felt like exploring a jungle with the sheer amount of plants growing in there plus old record? that’s how you set an atmosphere. he perched on the spiral stairwell that went up to the second floor, foot tapping to the song as he read his favorite book for the umpteenth time, the three musketeers, and he sipped away on some iced tea.
when the doorbell jingled pleasantly, he looked up with a smile to match as he set the book down. “what brings you in today? want some tea?"
Jeff Bezos wasn’t going to get any of Mariko’s money. As far as she was concerned, eat the rich. And she lived by that. However, that philosophy came into problems when the book Mariko desperately wanted to read couldn’t be found in any chain book store, and she could only find it on Amazon. But she wasn’t one to give up just at the site of a ‘no product matches your search’ result. She was determined to find it, so the best luck was praying a local bookstore might have a niche selection. The was one that she knew of that wasn’t too far, so that would be the first one to look at. Treehouse Books was the name. She’d go from as local as possible, to even being okay with searching outside of the state. What else did Mariko have to do besides waste her time trying to find something she’d enjoy?
She gently opened the door, glancing around slightly at the sight in front of her. This was quite a bookstore. Like nothing she’d ever seen before. She began to worry such a novel wouldn’t be on the shelves. It took her a moment before her gaze fell on a man working there with a bright smile. She stepped in, closed the door behind her, and approached the stairs. “Oh, thank you. I’m okay, though.” She shifted around, one hand moving to hold the strap on her bag across her body. “I actually was looking for a book that I haven’t really been able to find anywhere else, so I was gonna try and see if I had any luck here.” She shrugs slightly with an attempt at a smile, “Tiny bookstores aren’t a Barnes And Noble, you know? Corporate bookstores take the fun out of the books, I think. All mass produced, and whatnot.” There was nothing wrong with interacting with the man. He seemed quite nice and this place was also quite nice. Mariko simply preferred to move in and out of places with silence, though, and one place you couldn’t go unnoticed was a local small business.
millie wasn’t necessarily a bad driver (but she kind of was), she just wasn’t a car person. any time after high school she might have spent learning what to do when your car refused to start she’d instead spent on a musty brooklyn subway and thinking that was so much better. so after the third try at the ignition, the same stupid sputtering noise that she didn’t understand, and another round of frustrated sighs and expletives, millie gave up. slamming her hands on the wheel in frustration before she jumped out of the driver’s seat and slammed door behind her.
with bubbling irritation and the feeling that just everything was going wrong today she walked into the nearest place of business– not even pausing to take in her surroundings, in classic millie fashion she was in a total world of her own. her problems were the biggest and most dramatic, as always. “ hey, sorry– ” she wasn’t, but she was well trained in niceties “ do you know anything about cars? shitty old ones, specifically, ” she queried, “ or know anyone that might be? i tried triple a but my phone died, ” it had died after she’d spent 15 minutes on hold scrolling through instagram but that was besides the point, as she would soon make it clear, the world was clearly working against her today “ i, like, just filled it up with gas and now it won’t start– not even a little bit. and now my phone’s dead, and i dropped a carton of eggs at the store today, and i nearly lost my keys down a storm drain, and i have to get home to my grandma before she takes a wrong step trying to get to her knitting needles or whatever and pops out her hip again and– ” she paused her rambling once she noticed she was doing it. taking a breath, and shaking her head before she finished. “ sorry. it’s been a day, it’s really been a day, you know, ” in millie world anyway.
Mariko had been staring at the same four walls four forty five minutes now. The last customer that came in had long since left, and all he got was a cup of water. She was praying for either something to do, or a hammer to the head. She’d long since run out of chores in the cafe lobby, restocked everything behind the espresso bar, and done every single dish. Her least favorite. The hands on the clock only seemed to get slower and slower, until her prayers were answered.
A girl walked in through the door, and Mariko immediately perked up. A customer. Someone to make minutes go faster. She could do something. Her eagerness turned to confusion as she listens to the girl’s problems. This felt like a weirdly specific problem that Mariko could very easily fix. Like it was made for her. She opened her mouth to respond, but it was clear the other had much more on her mind. Instead of being rude, she just nods with slightly confused eyes, going along with the level of distress she was in. After a moment, Mariko chimed in, “Can I make you something? You look like you need something.” Maybe coffee would only add to the jitters she seemed to be feeling. Maybe it would give her some sort of comfort. “I can take a look, if you want..” she murmurs after a moment. “Depends on how old the car is. If it’s before the 2000s, it’ll be no problem. If it’s older, I’ve got less of a chance. They figured out how to stop hot wiring.”
( lyrica okano, lesbian, she/her ) hey, is that MARIKO KYOTO? i’ve seen them around bay river a lot lately - did you know they’ve been here for FOUR YEARS? the TWENTY-TWO year old CIS WOMAN is originally from TREMONT, NEW YORK. SHE can be found around town working as a DAYCARE TEACHER/BARISTA. from what i’ve heard, they’re known to be RESILIENT, but can also be CLOSED OFF. maybe it balances them out, huh? // anya, 21, she/her, est
( tw: mentions of drugs, death, crime, alcohol, addiction, sexual assault )
Growing up in Tremont wasn’t easy. Single father in one of the few Japanese family in the neighborhood. It was full of crime, and Mariko’s father was no exception. Since before she was born, he was getting himself into trouble. Hoshi needed money and protection, as he’d never had the greatest luck in life. He never really learned how to get his shit together. In the 80s, at the height of the crack epidemic, Hoshi wiggled himself into a crack den. He was a part of something big, something dangerous. It wasn’t until he got his girlfriend, Yua, of only a few months pregnant. Unfortunately, with Mariko being brought into this world, her mother left it. It was only Mariko and Hoshi—and Hoshi really didn’t want to be a father, but he had grown a bit soft during the pregnancy. He was left with a baby and had to figure out how to keep it alive.
He hadn’t done an awful job, actually. It kept all his attention off the streets. He got a job in a cannery and mostly left Mariko at home with their neighbors, Ben and Sandra Coleman. A sweet, older black couple in the shitty little apartment complex. They were always like her grandparents, basically raising her for the hours and hours her father was working for her. They didn’t seem to mind, they had had an empty nest for years.
Mariko was a bright girl with a big personality. She could fall, scrape her knee, and get right back up to toddle. She liked Maggie and The Ferocious Beast, chocolate milk, and climbing. Anytime Ben would bring her to a park, the Botanical Garden, or the Bronx Zoo, she couldn’t be contained. It took a few shouts, but Mariko learned quickly not to stray from Ben, It was dangerous out there, and anyone could be capable of anything. He taught her that there was good and bad everywhere.
Mariko was homeschooled by the Colemans. Hoshi didn’t have much money for all of the back to school items, and Ben used too be a high school teacher back in the day. She was far more attached to Ben and Sandra than her own father, leading up to never addressing him by ‘Dad.’ Hoshi seemed upset once she grew out of it from baby-hood, but he wouldn’t start anything. On occasion, Mariko called Sandra and Ben Mom and Dad respectively, but she quickly corrected herself. As much as she loved Sandra, her mother was dead and she didn’t think anyone else deserved that title. Her dad barely did, she barely knew him.
When she got a little bit older, about 8, he started bringing her to work. She expected a cannery to look like a big factory, but apparently it was at people’s houses at night. He told her she could help him do his jobs, just as long as she helped him get into the homes. She was small enough and with a few rounds of coaching, she learned how to crack open windows and crawl through. Once she helped her dad get inside, Mariko was instructed to wait in the neighboring bushes or in a convenience store until he robbed anything he could. She hadn’t known she was doing anything wrong, she just knew her and her dad were finally spending time together.She learned how to shoplift, how to pickpocket, how to pick locks, and even how to hot-wire a car. All of her crimes were conveyed by her father to be ‘okay,’ and all she was doing was helping him. Together, they robbed over 30 homes and stole three cars. Mariko hadn’t realized until she was about twelve that she had done anything wrong.
Around then, she finally gotten enrolled into middle school, as Hoshi had plenty more money. She’d already gone so long not taking life seriously, so being in an institution of public schools didn’t ring as important to her. She sat in the back of classes, alone, doodling mostly. One of those ‘too cool for school, too scared to drop out’ sort of kids. This only persisted as she went onto high school, though she had gotten some friends. She couldn’t invite them over though, as Hoshi was starting to fall back into his old ways. Soon, strangers were coming into the apartment, where Mariko was rushed into her room. She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t care much. She just minded her own business with her head down low. Her dad let her learn guitar off of Yua’s that he kept, and even obliged in buying stealing her a bass. She dove all of her free time into music.
In sophomore year, Mariko ended up in the wrong crowd, as most do. She became friends with a few people—Breana, Jason, Emily Ann, and Alexa. They managed to make a classic friend group of five, which had gained and lost members, but the five remained the same. They ended up having tons of get togethers, which is where Mariko began drinking for the first time. It was about every weekend, if not every other weekend she’d be getting drunk with other 16 year olds. It was the thing to do, even if looking back on it, it was such a rough period in her life. She started slipping and school and using her stealing skills to nab bottles whenever and wherever she could. Ben and Sandra were trying to get through to her, but of course, she was a teenager who knew better. She began pushing them away and staying home more often.
Midway through senior year, it began to drive away her friends. Mariko was drinking every day, sometimes becoming the kid who put vodka in her water bottle. By then, she was 17. She was well aware her father was jumping people in the streets, stealing from their neighbors, hooking up with strangers. Soon, though, before she graduated, Hoshi’s track record caught up to him. He got arrested for breaking into a cop’s house. Ben and Sandra thankfully didn’t hold a grudge against Mariko and took her in for the remainder of her school year. They took pictures with her for prom, they watched her walk down the graduation stage, and helped her find work.
Unfortunately, Mariko wasn’t known for good luck. That year, in November of 2016, Ben and Sandra were in a hit and run, the driver was drinking. Sadly, the car accident was fatal for the elderly couple. Mariko was known as basically their adopted daughter, so she was the first one told. Now, with no parents or even parental figures, Mariko was alone. She lost her friends due to her drinking problem, she lost her neighbors because of drinking, and her father was rotting away, probably until he died. For a short while, it sent Mariko farther into the bottle. All she did was wake up in Ben and Sandra’s bed, go to work at a cafe, and then go home to fall asleep drunk again. She went for a whole flip during this period. Going from long, beautiful braid white cherry pink lips and gold earrings to match, to sharp eyeliner, black lipstick, and chokers every day. She went from wearing a cardigan every day to her Physics class to squeezing herself into a leather dress just to look at decorative skulls.
There was one event which sent Mariko packing. One night, she was invited through a regular at the cafe to a party that night. She hadn’t partied in months and really could use the pick-me-up from being so social. And drunk. She attended the party, wearing a harness top and a tiny skirt, wanting to feel as powerful as ever. Drink after drink after drink lead her quickly to being the drunkest at the party. She was making out with any girl she saw, telling any guy to fuck off, and she thrived off of it. It wasn’t until she was drunk, trying to navigate her way through the streets before she realized someone had followed her from the party. She tried making conversation, and he went along with it, so Mariko only thought he was trying to be nice and getting her home. Him grabbing her arm tightly, though, was sobering enough for her to yell. As loudly as she could. That sent the guy over the edge, as he tried anything to keep her quiet and to subdue her in any way he could. Normally, Mariko could more than handle a guy, even if he were bigger and stronger than her. She grew up a criminal. But the amount of alcohol in her system made in nearly impossible. She wasn’t coordinated enough to get him off of her. For a little while, she’d given in, silently crying as he pulled her towards the shadows. However, she was lucky enough someone bumped into them and could smell the lies when her assailant claimed he was just taking care of her. A small fight broke out again, but Mariko was safe in the hands of someone else. She stayed the night at their place on the couch, thanked them for their help, and went home to pack her bags.
She grew up in Tremont, she knew how ugly the streets were. But there was nothing tying her down to suffering through the danger anymore. All of her friends hated her, her family was gone, it would be crazy to electively stay in a place where anyone could put a target on your back just for walking the wrong way. She grabbed what she could pack into her maroon Altima and peeled off, headed south. Only her favorite pieces she’d accumulated in this dark wave, some of Sandra and Ben’s things, and her mother’s guitar. Mascara streaked down her cheeks as she drove for hours and hours, not even turning on the radio. She would drive until she decided it was far enough behind her.
That was when she ended up in Bay River, Tennesee. Definitely not her kind of style, but she needed as much opposite of New York as possible and, well, this place seemed to be just that.
She landed herself an apartment with some money she had saved up and some she found along the way, nailed a job at another cafe, and even picked up a second job at a daycare. No one would expect it from the only goth in the state, but she felt safe with kids. The darkness was left at the door, she put any repressed childhood feelings into the kids she taught to write. None of them knew the pain she’d been in, none of them could judge her from how bad of a person she was, they all just loved Miss Mariko. It’s made her want to pursue a career in early childhood education, though she doesn’t see that on her horizon for a while.
Since then, she’s kept playing bass and occasionally guitar, tried landing a spot in a band or two (no one seems to want to give her the chance), so she’s mostly stayed to her lonesome. She’s stayed sober since leaving New York, and while that’s been one of her hardest struggles yet, she refuses to touch a drop. It’s what killed Sandra, it’s what killed Ben, and it almost killed her. Sobriety is one of the most important things for her, even if it’s hard.
