Matcha's mother

"So by "kooky cop" what do you mean?" Rika asked.

"Like the cop who showed up at my place seemed like she was from the moon. She went on and on about crap I couldn't make sense of," Helga grumbled.

"So why're you telling me this?"

"I'm getting to that! It was something she really wouldn't stop pushing me on, "where'd ya learn how to stab that guy in the hand?" What the hell is she talking about!? I told her she was crazy and she nearly locked lips with me when she looked me in the eyes. But it got worse, some creepy girls were hangin around the front. I recognized em as the freaks from the banquet.  I panicked and ran out the back, and they stalked me. I then realized your place was packed and decided to duck in, and here we are."

"Shit, the cult must have mistaken her for me. Though no clue on who the cop could be, could be that sharp bitch from earlier," Rika thought.

"Since those creeps seem to recognize me, I'm thinking of ditching this look so they don't recognize me," Helga shuddered.

Rika had never seen Helga this terrified before.

"Rika, are you almost done? We kinda need you in the kitchen," Matcha asked.

"Just a bit more, hey Matcha, you said your mom works at a salon right? How late they open til?"

"9:30 is closing time."

"Perfect, it's 8:30 right now, so Helga, stick around here and I'll go to the salon with you closer to 9."

"I wasn't asking for your company," Helga scowled.

"Not out loud at least. Sit back and relax and I'll be done in a flash."

                                                                                 ...

Helga twiddled her fingers on the table until Rika finally returned. She had changed into her casual attire consisting of a black jacket, jean shorts, and black boots.

"Alright, all changed, let's go get you a mohawk," Rika teased.

"NO! I'm not cutting a single strand of hair off!" Helga glared.

"Are you heading out?" Matcha asked.

"Yeah, wanna join us and say hi to your mom?"

"I'd rather not, but I also don't like the idea of you two going out alone, so I'll tag along. Not like Masaru's letting me do much in the kitchen. Benihime can probably handle the cooking anyway."

"Great, then you can introduce us," Rika smiled as she grabbed Helga's and Matcha's arms and began dragging them out.

"Hold on! I'm still in my uniform!" Matcha protested.

"No worries, besides we wanna get there before 9:30, so what's the place called?"

"*Sigh* Punk Nadeshiko Rebellion."

"Wait, your mom works THERE!? That's the shop Waki went to get her mohawk. She said all the employees are punk women  covered in tattoos, so is your mom-"

"TATTOOS!? Like hell I'm going to a place like that!" Helga shrieked.

"They aren't yakuza. They're just rebellious, that's all. Even though they bill themselves as a rebellious punk salon, they do fully provide the normal services of any old salon. I mean, before they rebranded as a rebellious punk salon, they were actually a fancy high end salon," Matcha explained.

"So why the hell did they go from a high class salon to a delinquent factory?"

"Cause that's the direction the new manager decided to take the salon in. It was pretty risky, and they did lose a good portion of their upper class customers, but they were able to do somewhat well, in the short term at least. To be honest I'm surprised that place has lasted almost 10 years. Though now that it's just my mom and like 1 or two other employees, I doubt the salon will last. No one wants to work there for various reasons."

"Well now I really DON'T want to go there!"

"Relax. I don't hold my mother in high regard, but she is workaholic at her craft. Hina's also a cool girl, so you could always request her if she's there."

                                                                        ...

As the three walked, Rika darted her head around and around looking for danger.

"I feel like we're being watched, but I can't tell who it is. Hope it isn't the cult.

                                                                      ...

In a squad car, Purin glared as she sat next to Makoto.

"Why the hell am I paired up with you ya freak!? Go devour your girlfriend or something," Purin glared.

"Supervisor said so. Orders are orders," Makota scowled as she exhaled a puff of smoke.

"Oh, so NOW you can hold a conversation. Though mind not blowing that shit in my FACE!?"

"Don't care. But this stuff calms me. I can think a bit more, the more I puff."

"How the hell are you even still alive. You've gone through so many pounds of that shit. And for what!? So you can be Yumeko's bitch!?"

"I can still fight, but now I'm calmer. I can think more. Supervisor says I could become successful the more I think."

"Piece of shit! I don't know what potential the supervisor sees in you."

                                                                          ...

Helga scowled when she stared at the posters hanging in the salon's windows.  One featured a woman clad in a black latex long skirt, sneakers, and bandage bindings covering her breasts. She was bald, had no eyebrows, and covered in white body paint as well as splotches of multicolored paint. The other featured a woman clad in a neon pink latex long skirt, neon green sneakers, and bandage bindings covering her breasts. She had no eyebrows, a large green mohawk, piercings adorning her ears, nose, and mouth, and tattoos running down her head, face, and body.

"I'm not going in if I'm gonna come out looking like those freaks on the poster Helga glared.

Rika and Matcha each grabbed her arms and dragged her in. Inside, the three found the girls from the posters lounging in salon chairs. Both looked exactly as they did in the posters.

"Oh, Matcha, bring some friends?" The woman with the green mohawk smiled.

"This is... my mother, Mocha," Matcha groaned.

Mocha struck a cute pose and stuck out her tongue covered in piercings.

"That's your mom!? She's hardcore," Rika cooed.

"Iyaa, no need to compliment me," Mocha cutely blushed, much to Matcha's annoyance.

"The one over there is Hina. Despite her looks, she's actually pretty cool and chill," Matcha smiled as she glanced at the woman covered in paint.

"Wow, you look exactly like the poster, do you paint yourself like that every time?" Rika asked Hina.

"Oh this ain't paint, it's all tattoos," the woman giggled cutely.

"Wait seriously!?"

"Even the white "paint" It was easier to just ink it on rather than paint myself everyday."

"Nope, not-"

"Just sit down!!" Rika and Matcha glared as they shoved Helga into a chair.

"So what we doing for you and your friends?" Mocha smiled.

"She just wants her hair dyed back to white, nothing more. Not my friend either," Matcha groaned.

Hina then got up and approached Helga.

"Don't worry, we're cool girls. We respect our customer's wishes. If you want to just get your hair dyed, that's all we'll do," Hina smiled.

"Can't take you serious. Specially knowing that paint's actually tattoos, like what possessed you to do all that!?" Helga glared.

"Hey, I wanted to go hardcore and rebel. Most of us that worked here back then came from overbearing upper class families, myself included. Heck, I was even set to get an arranged marriage. But well, I got a makeover and ended up disowned instead. It was a bit terrifying at first and I constantly get weird looks and occasionally get unfairly confronted by police officers to this day. But I chose to do this and I don't regret it in the slightest. Now white dye? Eyebrows too?"

"Eyelashes too. They're naturally white."

"Well that's a first, but rest assured I've got over a decade of cosmopolitan experience, so let's give it a go."

As Matcha attempted to leave, Mocha stopped her.

"Wait, you didn't tell your mother about getting your license back?" Rika asked.

"YOU GOT YOUR COOKING LICENSE BACK!? What the hell Matcha! Why didn't you tell me sooner!?"

"Cause I didn't want to," Matcha grumbled.

"Well, guess your still rebellious. Now take a seat, I'm gonna make your hair silky and shiny and glow up your face. You gotta look sexy for your new gig! Oh, should probably do your fingernails too so you can cook in style."

"Ugh," Matcha groaned as she obediently sat down.

"Wow, never took you for the submissive type," Rika teased.

"Shut it! I just want her off my case! Though I really don't wanna have her style my hair."

"Well, guess I'm stuck watching," Rika sighed.

"Oh, we actually have a young stylist in training if you don't mind," Mocha smiled.

"Well, guess I'll just get a basic hair, face, and manicure package."

"Perfect! Mochi! Come on out!"

A young girl with pink hair wearing a middle school uniform emerged from the back.

"This is my youngest daughter, Mochika, better know as Mochi. I know she looks small, but she's really REALLY talented," Mocha gushed.

"Oh hey Mochi, please help," Matcha frowned.

"You brought that fate upon yourself Matcha nee-san," Mochi sighed.

"Well, guess I'm in your care. Just don't shave all my hair off," Rika laughed as she sat down.

"Rest assured, not me nor any of the employees are like that."

"Sweet, though it might have been funny to see Masaru's reaction if I got something wild. Eh, whatever, I like my hair anyway. So why's Matcha so grumpy?"

"In the most scientific terms, it is as my mother stated, a rebellious phase. Though both me, her, and our older sister, Purin-nee-san were picked on after our mother adopted her current radical look 9 years ago. Many thought she was a yakuza even though she and my father made it abundantly clear she wasn't."

"How close you with Matcha?" Mocha hollered at Rika.

"An annoying self proclaimed friend whom If I don't keep an eye on, gets into trouble," Matcha grumbled.

"Oh, then tell her all about me Mochi," Mocha smiled.

"Very well. Part of the reason my mother went with her radical look, is due to the fact that the tattoos you currently see littering her back, were actually present long before she became a stylist," Mochi stated.

"Wait, so then-"

"No, she vehemently claims she is not related to any yakuza. Though she never told us exactly how bad her life was or how she got the tattoo, my theory is that she was kidnapped by a gang and received the tattoo in captivity. She most likely ended up in that scenario due to her poor upbringing that forced her to resort to theft for survival."

"Yeah, that's exactly what Matcha told me," Rika stated.

"While her tattoos probably wouldn't turn any heads in other parts of the world, here it's a pretty big deal. Once the salon decided on rebranding, my mother happily bared her tattoos and even got some new ones for her new look. Just like Hina, she does get some weird looks and confrontations with law enforcement, but overall rocks her look with pride."

"Wow, you're mom's a badass."

"She certainly looks like one and has the resolve of one, though she does tend to act a little paranoid at times. I imagine its more due to various traumas. How fares your mother?"

"Haven't seen her ever since I moved out years ago. We aren't exactly on great terms sadly."

"I am saddened to hear that."

                                                                                ...

Matcha blushed in embarrassment as she sat under the dryer in between Helga and Rika with facial cream smeared on her face and her hair covered in a hairnet and hairmask.

"Why mother, I look like an idiot," Matcha moaned.

"Shut up," Helga glared as she gazed at her phone while sitting under the dryer next to Matcha.

"Why you moaning, we look good," Rika cooed as she took a picture of herself and sent it to Masaru.

"Don't worry ladies. That's our signature cream that'll make you face look young and vibrant for years to come. Just look at the wonders it's done for me at 37," Mocha giggled.

"You're 37!? Damn, girl you look 15 years younger," Rika cooed.

"Part of my charm along with my hawk," Mocha cooed as she ran her hands along her signature lime green mohawk.

"Believe it or not, she's actually a natural blonde," Hina laughed as she pulled up a picture on her phone and showed it to everyone.

"Oh wow, that brings me back. That was when  you first joined and I was forced to be the guinea pig for your dye training."

"I messed up big and ended up mixing the dyes, resulting in her getting green hair and brows. It was thanks to her being a good sport that I didn't get fired," Hina smiled.

"Nah, Miko wouldn't have fired you for THAT. On a customer, sure, but on me, nah. Besides, I kept the green hair until I embraced the hawk. Show them how prim and proper you looked," Mocha giggled as she zoomed in the photo on a beautiful girl with short black hair.

"Wait!? THAT'S what you looked like before!?" Rika gasped.

"Yup. Came from an upper class family too, most of us in the photo did in fact. When I rebelled, boy did I get one hell of a disowning. Had to crash in an apartment ever since, and damn proud of it," Hina proudly huffed.

"Most of the girls that worked here when we rebranded came from overbearing families. It felt real good to rebel against them. I just wish they were still here," Mocha somberly sighed.

"What happened?" Rika asked.

"Well, bad publicity, like REALLY bad publicity. I take it you aren't too familiar with the incidents that took place here 9 years ago. The first event, which ultimately caused us to rebrand under new management, was a double murder."

Helga immediately grew uncomfortable.

"Mother, let us leave it at that. If any of them wish to hear the story for themselves, they can just read the salon's blog post I typed on the matter," Mochi stated.

"Yeah, leave it at that freako. I'm already itching to get out of here," Helga trembled.

Suddenly, the door to the salon swung open.

"Apologies but we're closin-_!"

Mocha froze as Purin and Makoto stormed in.

"Shit, pretty sure Matcha mentioned she's a cop, but that gorilla puts me more on edge," Rika thought.

"Oi freak, read the warrant!" Purin ordered.

Makoto exhaled a puff of smoke before pocketing her cigarette and reading the warrant.

"Mocha Myouchi's under arrest for mass murder," she growled.

Everyone stared in shock and disbelief upon hearing the revelation.