Page 159 of The Dragon 2
"I bet you were." I sipped more, enjoying the taste. Cold. Crisp. Citrusy with that vermouth depth curling through it. "This is very good."
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I do.” I lifted my glass toward her. "To rebellious tigers and stolen cocktails."
She clinked hers against mine. "To dragons with rose-pierced cocks."
I blinked. “Careful, Tora. I’m very close to taking it out.”
We both laughed.
Then she added, "your turn. What’s your first drink story?"
“No. It’s bloody.”
“I still want to hear it.”
“Yours is sweet and innocent—”
“I want to learn more about you, Kenji. That’s why people sit down together and eat.”
“Hmmm.” I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling for a beat. The lights were dim and golden. The whole club felt like it floated somewhere between sin and memory. "I was fifteen. We were in Kyoto. A deal had gone sideways and my older brother, Jobon had to clean up the mess. I was supposed to just watch. Be quiet. But things escalated."
Her gaze softened. "Someone died?"
"Three people died. I didn’t pull any triggers, but. . .my hands and face were covered in blood.”
“Oh my God.”
“I told you it was bloody.”
“But then what happened?”
“I helped my brother clean everything up.”
“All the blood and bodies?”
“Yes.”
She widened her eyes. “Holy shit.”
“When we got back home, my brother drank from a whole bottle of whiskey but handed me a glass of lychee sake and said, ‘This is what men do. We bury one thing and drink the other.’"
“I’m shocked that he didn’t give you the whiskey.”
“Me too. Lychee sake is such an odd thing to have after something that crazy. A drink so sweet and delicious that smells like fruit treats.”
“Maybe that’s why he gave it to you. . .so that you could still have some sweetness left.”
“That could be true. Jobon was always protective of me in his own way.” I thought back to him. “Anyway. . .he passed out in his room, and I ended up stealing the rest of the bottle.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I hid it in my room and drank until I puked all over the place."
She winced. "Your poor stomach."
"My poor housekeeper."
