Satsuki's Legacy

"Hmmm," Yoka tapped her fingernails against her lips. They matched.

"We're going wherever the wind takes us, Cherry my dear!"

She was going to take her for Tapas. But not just any tapas. The best Tapas.

"Tapas...tapas..." Yoka mumbeled.

She snapped her fingers again.

"Cherry, we're going downtown, and we are going to feast on everything this down has to offer!"

---

"This is going to be fun," Yoka said. "Cherry darling, you will not regret this! The night is young, we are young, and the world is our clamshell."

It was not a well known fact that Yoka was horrible at metaphors.

---

Yoka considered this.

A giant robot would be expensive.

So was a tank, though, and Yoka had a tank and no debit thanks to the business they drummed up using that sucker in parades. She wiggled her nose and reached into the pocket off her shall and pulled out what looked like a bottle of soy sauce.

She took a sip and then coughed.

It was soy sauce.

Yoka thought it was mirrin.

"What the fuck," she said, and then passed it to Cynthia. "here babe, try this and tell me if this sake tastes like soy to you."

But Yoka had not given up on the giant robot idea.

"Cherry can you pilot a giant robot?" Yoka asked. "If...if we got one. Right nooow."

"What the fuck," Yoka said. She frowned at the soy sauce. She thought this mirrin tasted salty. She took another sip to be certain and then wrinkled her nose and grimaced. Nope, Cynthia was right, it was definitely soy sauce. Gross.

"We need to get another drink," Yoka said. "We need to get a drink that's NOT soy sauce. I am feeling....."

She waved her finger as though trying to reach some far off sattelite and then pointed in a random direction.

"I am feeling that drinks are this way."

Yoka had no fucking clue where she was going, only that she needed another martini, or a long island ice tea, or a whole fucking bottle of tequelia. Christ, Yoka loved tequlia.

"Did you know I can drive?" Yoka asked Cynthia. "I used to drag race sometimes. Cynthia baby you're going to have to drive the mecha, though, because soon enough I am not going to have fingers and that is going to suuuucckk."

She patted her coworker on the butt in a very locker-room gesture, although it might have been because Yoka stumbled over something. Either way, she was giggling a moment later. "Cynthia, tell me a story about yourself. Tell me something I wouldn't guess about you just by looking."

Yoka considerd this and then said, "Cynthia, I shall teach you how to drive."

Yoka stopped walking and then took another street, seemingly forgetting where they were going. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the bottle and took a drink of it, then spat it on the ground.

"Fuck, it still tastes like soy sauce," she said. Yoka approached a blank door and knocked on it. A few moments later, she was speaking in fast paced Japanese and gesturing wildly with her hands. The door opened.

"C'mon, this is a good bar, they make cool drinks," Yoka beckoned.

As she listened to Cynthia's story, Yoka started to laugh, and then laugh, and laugh some more. "Ho shit, girl, you are wild. I would have never guessed. Let me buy you another drink. You know what we should do? We should go to this..mandy's house. We should...we should...."

Yoka trailed off, looking for a suitable punishment.

"What should we do, Cynthia?"