“Quick, c’mon!” Izumi held the front door of the Phoenix open, pulling a woman in a long black dress into the room. As the near-capacity crowd roared halfway through Ranko’s rendition of Abracadabra, she led the woman to the closest booth to the stage, seating her facing the stage. The lightbulb above the table was either burned out or loosened, because the table sat in near-total darkness. The guest did not mind, and Izumi never asked her for her order.

Izumi looked herself over in the mirror behind the bar, smiling. The silver sequined mini dress she wore shone in the house lighting. It had been the first time she’d worn it since her second pregnancy, and it was one of her favorites. She looked over to the audio table, receiving a thumbs-up from Mei.

Walking over to the bar, she waited for Yui to finish pouring a Thunderclap for a young male patron, knocking twice on the bar. “I think we’re ready, sis.”

Yui nodded, and Izumi walked over to one of her tables near the stage. She leaned over the table, making small talk with the customers as they enjoyed their pizza. It wasn’t the customers she needed, just their placement.

Securing her cash register, Yui smoothed the long-sleeved olive cotton dress she wore, slipping through the blue saloon door and knocking on the closed door to her right. “Hey, mama? Got a second?”

“Sure, Yui-chan, c’mon in,” came the reply, and Yui pushed the door open to find Hana hunched over her desk, somehow focusing on one paper despite the hundreds of others piled up around her. She wore a black Metallica tee shirt over black jeans, her hair pulled back in a salt-and-pepper ponytail.

“Mama, I’m having some trouble with the register. Could you give me a hand for a second?” Yui hid her face as if she was blushing, trying not to betray her smile.

“Sure, baby, what’s it doing?” Hana stood, grabbing her black leather jacket and slinging it over her shoulder. She was almost never seen without it in the public area of the bar while customers were in the room.

“Oh, you know, it just won’t open.” Yui shrugged. “Never seen it do this before.”

Yui pushed through the swinging blue door, her mother in tow, just as the applause was dying down from Ranko’s performance.

Hana looked down at the register. “Yui! Goofball, of course it’s not working. You turned the damn thing off.”

Yui giggled, smirking. “Oh, silly me.” She stood between her mother and the blue door, trapping her behind the bar.

Without the backing of music, Ranko spoke into her handheld microphone from the stage. “Hey, everybody. How we doing tonight? We having a good time?”

The crowd roared in response, and Hana didn’t pay it much mind, still laughing at her second-eldest daughter.

“Well,” Ranko continued. “If you love this place, there’s really only one person you need to thank, and she’s standing right over there at the bar. Let’s hear it for Hana, everybody!”

The bar’s proprietor looked up as the crowd roared and turned to face her. She blushed, trying to duck back into the back room, but Yui blocked her path.

“So funny thing about Hana. She doesn’t like anybody to know this. I’m sorry, mama, but I’m going to let out one of your secrets. See, today, July the seventh, is miss Hana’s birthday.” Ranko grinned as the crowd roared in appreciation.

“Yui, what is she up to?” Hana’s eyes were wide as saucers. She wasn’t used to the patrons’ eyes on her, especially not since Ranko had come to join their family.

“Oh, no good, I’m sure. You know our girl.” Yui smirked, taking Hana’s hand and pulling her to the VIP table at the right side of the stage, the one usually reserved for Akane, pulling out a chair for her.

“Yui, what is…” Hana stammered as Yui stood behind her chair, half to support her, and half to keep her from getting up.

Ranko sat on a stool on the stage, alone. The red sequins of her dress twinkled like starlight under the stage lights. “You see, something you might not know about Hana, is… well, all of us here at the Phoenix… We’re all her daughters. Every one of us.” She turned to look at Hana, smiling. “She saved us all. She made us all who we are.”

Hana wiped her eyes. “What is she…”

Yui wrapped her arms around her mother from behind, taking her hands as the sound of a lone piano began to trickle gently from the speakers, and Ranko lifted her microphone. “This is for you, mama.”

Ranko stood, closing her eyes, as she often did for the most powerful lines she sang.

“I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn. And we are led to those who help us most to grow if we let them, and we help them in return.”

She opened her eyes, turning her head down to her mother with a smile.

“Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true, but I know I’m who I am today because I knew you.”

As Yui held her mother in her arms and rocked back and forth with the soft music, Ranko covered her heart with her right hand.

“Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun, like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood. Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better? But, because I knew you… I have been changed for good.”

A shadow crossed in front of the stage light as the audio table was vacated, and a girl in a teal dress that almost matched her electric blue pigtails hopped up from the floor, sitting on the edge of the stage. She flipped the switch on the handheld microphone, leveling it to her mouth as she faced her mother as she began to sing.

“It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime, so let me say before we part, so much of me is made of what I learned from you. You’ll be with me, like a handprint on my heart. And now, whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend.”

Mei looked forward, smiling as the glittering silver starlight of her sister’s dress stalked from the table at the center stage as Izumi stood next to Mei’s legs at the front of the stage.

Mei handed her another microphone, and Izumi whirled to face her mother, blushing furiously. Singing really wasn’t her thing, but she’d put Ranko up to so much, there was no way she could say no when her youngest sister suggested it.

“Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off the sea. Like a seed dropped by a sky-bird in a distant wood. Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better? But, because I knew you…”

Ranko and Mei’s voices joined together. “Because I knew you…”

Then, as the woman at the dark table in the corner stood, Izumi finished the chorus. “I have been changed for good.”

Mei tossed a third microphone at the silhouette approaching the stage from stage right, and it was caught by the woman in the black dress, who stepped into the light, taking a place next to Izumi.

Hana gasped, covering her mouth. “How did…”

Yui smirked. “She’s good.”

“And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness for the things I’ve done you blame me for,” Ayako sang, smiling softly to her mother.

Ranko picked up her microphone, looking down to Aya. “But then I guess we know there’s blame to share.”

Ayako then continued in harmony with Ranko, turning and looking up to face her. “And none of it seems to matter anymore!”

So focused was she on watching four of her daughters sing that Hana had failed to notice Yui was no longer holding her. At least, she hadn’t until Yui sat on the edge of the stage to Mei’s right, picking up yet another microphone from the stage floor and beginning to sing in harmony with Mei. “Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes the sun…”

Akayo and Izumi turned to Hana together. “Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off of the sea, like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood…”

Yui and Mei continued their chorus at the same time. “Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun. Like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood…”

Ranko knelt on the stage behind her sisters, and all five of the girls sang as one.

“Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better? I do believe I have been changed for the better. And, because I knew you…”

Mei and Izumi called out, “Because I knew you…”

Ranko raised her voice as high in pitch and volume as she could, singing alone. “Because I knew you…”

All four of her sisters joined her for one final line.

“I have been changed… for good.”