She knocked on his door one average Tuesday afternoon. He had been expecting someone, yes, but was surprised she looked the way she did.

"Why hello, little girl. Are you lost?"

"No, actually. You requested my services?" That's right. He had expected a new cleaning lady today. But this girl was not what he had expected. She was young, and pretty. Quite radiant, at that. Not at all what he expected.

"My, my! What a vocabulary you have."

"It's quite extensive, yes. I'm sure you wouldn't want to know what I'd use it for if you made me angry. Now, am I to stand out here in the cold, or are you going to show me inside?" And she wasn't as annoyingly polite as the last one had been. This is interesting. What was someone like her doing cleaning houses?

"Of course. Right this way." He led her down the hall to the kitchen, and told her what was needing to be done. With this, he left her to her work.

He sat in the living room, seemingly reading a novel. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed as she moved around his house; dusting, polishing, and vacuuming.

"Can I help you with something?" she sighed; annoyed.

"Hm?"

"I can feel you watching me. And frankly, it's creeping me out," she remarked without looking up from her work.

"I see you have a keen sixth sense."

"You don't really have a choice when you're constantly trying to pry yourself away from a drunk landlord."

She was interesting, really. She didn't seem to give a second glance to the priceless antiques decorating his Tuscan-themed home. She didn't try and make a good impression. She didn't seem to care whether or not he'd request that she come back. What was her story?

"Why do you keep doing that?" Her small voice and sarcastic undertones brought him out of his thoughts.

"Doing what?"

"Looking like you're trying to develop x-ray vision to see through me."

"Maybe I'm trying to figure you out." She scoffed at his remark.

"Good luck. Even I can't do that."

She approached him in his armchair, expressionless.

"I have to go now, or I'll be late for class."

"Class?"

"Night classes at the college downtown." She explained, while gathering her things. "I didn't get to the hall bathroom, or the guest bedroom."

"That's fine. You can come back tomorrow then."

She was at his doorstep later than yesterday. She looked disheveled, tired, and smelled of alcohol. Not saying a word, she brushed past him and got straight to work. He followed her, leaning against the doorway.

"May I know your name?"

"Why does it matter?"

"So I can write your paycheck." She still hadn't looked up from the task. It was starting to get on his nerves, how it seemed he couldn't affect her in any way. She was testing his patience. "What's got you so irritable today? Boyfriend break up with you?" She didn't even throw him a glance. "That's okay. You've still got the others, don't you?"

He smirked as she set down the rag she had been using to disinfect the sink counter. She slowly and calmly turned toward him.

"Excuse me?"

"I believe you heard me correctly."

"Are you implying that I'm a whore?" She had picked up the rag again, and had begun cleaning once more.

"Well, you do reek of beer right now. And there is your current job occupation to consider."

"I'm sorry, mister-"

"Nagihiko."

"I'm sorry, Nagihiko, that not everyone behaves in such a polite and professional manner as you, especially the occupants of the previous home I cleaned. I also apologize that this is what I've had to resort to, for the money to put myself through college. However, it might surprise you to know that not everyone is born getting everything they want."

That was the most she had ever said in his presence, and she did so without even a glance in his direction. He almost could have thought she was speaking to the sink, if she hadn't addressed him. Her words stung in a way that was nearly refreshing to him. It had been a while since he had met someone with such wit.

"I apologize then, miss…?" She hesitated for a moment before replying.

"Rima."

"I'm all done. I'll be taking my leave now."

"Alright. Why don't you come back next week?"

"…What's your motive? Why so courteous all the sudden?"

"Nothing. I just thought you might like a consistent job."

"I'll consider it."

Indeed, she came the next week too, with the same emotionless expression. She began her work as usual, ignoring the small racket he was making in the kitchen. After all, it wasn't her business what he did in his own house.

She finished her work, and went to find him to announce her departure. She found him standing over the stove, putting the finishing touches on something that smelled wonderful. Turning to her, he handed her paycheck to her, as well as a bowl with a cover.

"What's this?"

"Your pay."

"No, this," she said, gesturing to the bowl.

"Pasta."

"…Why?" He simply shrugged, turning back to the stove.

"You go straight from your job to your classes, right?" She nodded at this. "Then, when do you eat?"

"I… don't, usually."

"Then there you go." He still was stirring whatever else in the pot, not making eye-contact.

"… Thank you." She saw the corner of his mouth turn up a bit as she said this.

"Not a problem."

This became a routine for them. She returned to his house every week, to bring back the bowl he had lent her. Then, she figured she might as well do her job while she was there. She learned, little by little, that he was a student at the nearby prestigious university, studying to be a physician, against his will. He learned that she had left her father, a useless drunk, moved out, and tried to make it on her own while resisting the harassing advances of her landlord, and others she'd work for. She didn't have a specific career in mind, and figured she'd settle for whatever paid the rent.

Speaking of which, when she came in one day as usual, she looked very different. Her eyes were tired, dark, and slightly puffy, and yet she worked more efficiently than usual. It almost seemed desperate. She finished her duties early, and announced her departure in a hurry.

"I really need to go now. I'll be back next week."

"Wait, Rima," he caught her by the wrist on the way out the door.

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Now I really have to leave, so-"

"Don't give me that bullshit. I've been around you long enough to know something's not right." She sighed. True, she had come to consider him a friend, but she didn't need pity.

"I'm fine."

"No, no you're not."

"… You want the truth? My landlord raised the rent. And I've been skipping classes and working more so I could pay it. Now they're revoking my partial scholarship, so it's either I work more, or I can't pay for classes. Now I really have to go." However, he didn't let go of her wrist.

"Why didn't you tell me?! I could've helped sooner!"

"I didn't need your help. I'm fine on my own." She pulled her wrist away from him, and was swept away with the night.

However, she was there again the next week, looking worse than the last time. However, there was a hopeful glint in her eye that said somehow, she'd be okay. This was an improvement. When she finished her work, she found him in the kitchen again.

"You'd better get going, or you'll be late for your classes," he remarked, handing her a bowl of chicken and rice.

"About that…" He turned to face her. "I looked at the numbers a few days ago. I can't keep doing this. I can't pay for classes, so I guess I have to quit."

"So you don't have anywhere to be?"

"No."

"Then sit down and have dinner with me."

No matter how he tried to convince her, she wouldn't accept him paying for her college, even as a loan. So, the subject was dropped. And, for the first time in a while, she was relaxed, and enjoyed the company of a friend.

A few weeks later, she came in, walking stiffly. She prayed he wouldn't notice, but notice he did.

"What happened?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she stated casually, as she got to work. She waved off his question like a pesky fly…

Until he caught her hand.

Gently gripping her wrist, he slid her sleeve up to reveal purple welts. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes, sighing. "Do I need to ask again?"

"Honestly, it doesn't concern you. I'm fine."

"Actually it does. Out with it then."

"I fell down some stairs."

"You and I both know you're not that clumsy." He dropped her wrist. She winced at the sudden movement. "What happened to that landlord of yours, hm? The one you said you always had to 'pry yourself away from'?"

Her expression fell, and she didn't look him in the eyes.

"He did this?"

"I can take care of myself, Nagihiko."

"Psh. Obviously." She scoffed. "Come here, I'll help you with that." He helped her to sit on the counter, while he examined her arms. "Doesn't look like any fractures, but I'd say you'd got lucky. You need to get out of that building."

"And go where exactly?! It's not like I can afford anything else," she stated, hopping off the counter and getting to work at last.

She came in again a few days later. It was late, and she looked pale.

"Rima? What's going on?" She simply showed herself inside, and gestured for him to follow her. She pulled herself up to the counter, and showed him her left arm. Bits of broken glass were imbedded in her skin. It looked as if she had used her arm to shield herself from being hit with a beer bottle.

"Sorry to bother you. I just… I can't pay a hospital bill and-"

"It's okay." He quickly gathered his supplies, handed her a towel to bite down on, and began the process of removing the glass. It was difficult, considering he didn't have all the necessary tools at his house. But somehow, he managed. The wounds were disinfected, and bandaged.

"Thanks," she sighed, once everything was taken care of.

"It's nothing."

"Nagihiko, um… I don't think it's smart to go back there tonight. Do you know of anywhere I could possibl-"

"I agree. You can take the guest room." She gave him a grateful smile.

She came in the next Tuesday, with fresh bandages on her arm. She was already back to working again. He left her to her chores, to go get something. When he returned, he found her in the kitchen, scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees, reminding him somehow of Cinderella.

"How's your arm?" he inquired.

"Much better, thank you." She still had the habit of not looking up at him while she was working.

"I still think you should get out of that building, you know. It isn't safe."

"I've already told you, I have nowhere else to go. And I'll be fine."

"You've gotten lucky twice now. It won't happen again."

"But where else can I go?! The rest of the places either won't take someone like me, or are too far away from the city. And I can't go back to my dad's. I won't!" She still refused to look at him, but her frustration was apparent in the way she scrubbed the floor.

"… You could stay here." She hesitated for a moment, considering it, before going back to her chore.

"Nagihiko, rooming here for one night is fine, but I'm a lady. I won't allow myself to live with someone who I'm not related to, much less a man. Plus, what would people think of you, if you just let some random person off the streets live in your house?!" He tapped her on the head. Finally, she looked up to see him on one knee in front of her.

"Then marry me."

Okay I know that was awful, but I was needing some Rimahiko, okay?! I'm satisfied now.

Also, I've gotten some questions about why my stories tend to have underlying themes of alcoholism. Uh, how do I answer this? … Well they say you write what you know, so do what you will with that information.