Disclaimer: I don't own any Azumanga Daioh characters. This story is rated R for language, general adult content, and (mostly censored) descriptions of drug use. If you're not old enough or you're easily offended, then don't read it. Any clubs mentioned in this story do not exist.

Note: Relax, Yukari fans. This is the R version of this story. Not the NC-17 one.

---------------

Chapter 4

Yukari leaned forward and ordered the cabbie to stop at the next intersection. The man glanced up in his rear view mirror and nodded once before turning his attention back to the road. They were several blocks away from where the downtown area ended and the red light district began.

The teacher anxiously gnawed on her thumb nail, one of her knees bouncing up and down slightly. She felt like a little kid going to a theme park. She was excited and scared at the same time and she couldn't wait to get back on her favorite roller coaster.

The cab came to a stop by the curb and Yukari tossed the driver a couple of bills. The amount was short of what she owed, but the driver wouldn't have time to protest before she was already out of the cab and walking down the street. Contrary to the district's reputation among the people who never went there, it wasn't the most dangerous place in the city. It was actually quite popular.

As she made her way down the sidewalk, the restaurants and twenty-four hour convenience shops would slowly give way to dance clubs and 'love hotels', and the streets would become a bit more populated with club-goers and the ever present street-side merchants of sex. People milled in lines outside of certain dance clubs. As Yukari passed them she could feel the ground vibrate beneath her feet with a fast, pulsing beat. Only a few of the people would divert from their conversations long enough to cast her a fleeting glance. Any other time she just might have stopped to socialize and flirt but all of that could wait until later.

Her club of preference was simply called 'E.L.'. It was a multi-level structure nestled between two other clubs called 'Jace' and 'Io'. Each club had their own theme. Depending on what a person was in to, they probably could have found any number of connections within them. Yukari scanned slowly over the faces of the people hanging around outside of the buildings. Some were waiting in the lines to go in, but others had certain alternative motives. The teacher smirked slightly when she caught sight of the person she was looking for.

She didn't know his name. No one really did. He was a tall man, older than herself and a little too thin. His dark hair was spiked and streaked with red, and the fact that he wore nothing but expensive jeans and designer jackets didn't mask the level of his poverty. He always looked a week since his last bath, but cheap corner-store cologne did well to hide the odor. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth. Boldly he leaned back against the front of the club like a true veteran of the trade. Newer participants of his business kept their hands out of their pockets and walked from club to club as though they were innocent seekers of fun. This man defied the act of secrecy. Everyone knew that he had what they wanted. His business always came to him like a slave to its master.

Yukari approached the man and paused several feet away from him.

"Ahem..." A clear demand of his attention.

Grey eyes would shift from looking across the street and focus themselves on the woman before them. A grin twisted the corner of his lips. She had returned. Just like he knew that she would.

The first time he had seen her had been a little over a month ago. She wasn't like the others. She turned down his best offers for the specific things that she wanted. Never anything heavy. But over the past week she had started to fail him. She hadn't been as regular, claiming that what she was doing wasn't working anymore. He offered to give her a free sample of his solution to the problem. Once she was under he took it upon himself to teach her a valuable lesson in mutual reciprocity. Nothing was free. He made her pay with the physical well-being of her body and beat the ever-loving crap out of her. For his generosity they both knew that she owed him double. Despite their history, yet again his 'free' sample had blossomed into another regular customer. His smile grew a little wider.

"Yeah?...I think you know somethin'," he said in no small voice, indicating that she knew what she wanted and knew that he had it.

Yukari folded her arms and stepped forward with a Cheshire cat grin.

"I need a favor..."

"You know I can do 'em." He straightened up from the wall and stepped towards her, his hand lifting to hold her chin between its fingers. "But you remember what we talked about last time?" His scrutiny of her black eye and split lip was condescendingly deliberate.

"Yeah, whatever." Yukari shrugged away from the touch and frowned. Adjusting her purse she slowly reached her hand into it and grasped the bag of medications, but refrained from pulling it out. "You do me a favor, I got yours right here..."

His eyes would narrow with his grin. Without another word he turned and motioned for her to follow as he headed up to the entrance of the club. The large man at the door would nod to his approach and unclasp the rope to let them inside.

The club was hot and smelled like a mixture of sweat and old rubber. The inside of it was kept dimmed almost to the point of blackness. Any light that shined down was dark and colored with the exception of the strobe light that would flicker in intervals of ten seconds before stopping. The club's entire structure pounded with the massive bass vibrations from the fast music and writhing bodies. There was a lot maintenance that needed to be done on it, but any money that was made in there did not go towards renovations.

The main area was the dance floor located on the first level. In a lowered portion of the floor, faceless bodies twisted and gyrated either to the beat in the room or the beat in their minds. There was also a stand-in bar, no seats available for safety reasons when the dance floor often over flowed. Against the far wall there were a few people slouched and passing something between them. One of the people suddenly twisted to the side and emptied the contents of their stomach on the floor. No one seemed to notice.

On the second floor there was another, more casual bar area complete with tables and booths alike. It was a little quieter than the first floor, but no one ever went up there to talk anyway.

The basement level was one that Yukari had never ventured to, though she had often peered down the stairs that lead to it. She had never been able to see very much. Half way down the stairs there was a fog machine set up to inevitably obscure the view within. Past the fog there was mixture of green and purple lights, sometimes red, yet nothing more could be seen. Men and women alike went down there, either by themselves or sometimes with other people. Only one time had she tried to see what went on down their, but her acquaintance had grabbed her harshly by the back of the neck and dragged her up from the step she had taken. His only warning was that if she ever went down there then she better be feeling alive enough to be dead. She had taken his word for it.

The man led the way up to the second floor where he bypassed the bar and chose a booth towards the back. Like a perfect gentleman he waited for Yukari to sit down before taking a seat beside her, effectively closing her in to the inner part of the booth. He leaned in close against her and draped his arm around her shoulders. His voice was soft as though what he had to say was only for her.

"Show me."

"Here..." Yukari reached into her purse and brought out the small bag of meds. She had never asked what exactly he did with the medications, or why he always accepted them from her before money. Somehow she knew that it would be smart to remain ignorant of it.

The man took the bag and peered inside, a smile growing wide across his face.

"And what else?"

Yukari sifted through her purse and brought out a small roll of bills, her compensation for his 'gift' to her on Saturday.

"That's my girl," he whispered and took the money, then folded up the bag to stick both items into the pocket of his jacket. "You've earned it tonight."

He sat back and took out a package of his own, setting it gently in her lap. It was a collection of several items wrapped in a red bandana. Yukari looked down to the package and clenched her jaw tight. It was the same kind of package he had given her before.

The man caught the look of mild trepidation and closed his arm tighter around her.

"Awww...You're still scared of it aren't you?"

Yukari took in a deep breath and let it out, her head ducking slightly.

"I don't like needles...."

The dealer took hold of her hand and laced her fingers with his own. With his other hand he brushed the strands of hair away from her face.

"It won't hurt a bit...I promise. I'll take good care of you." He slipped his hands back and took the package from her lap to open it up on the table. It didn't matter if anyone walking by would have seen what they were doing. Any person on the second floor would have been high on something themselves.

Inside the package was an alcohol swab, a syringe, a lighter, a bent spoon, a ball of cotton, and a small baggie with several ounces of a white powder in it. From the leg pocket of his pants, the man pulled out a small bottle of water, and they were ready to begin.

Yukari watched the preparation like a child learning how to tie her shoe. The first step, second step, third, and so on...She knew how much she needed it. She feared it. She hated it. She couldn't wait for it.

Finally the man was tying something around her arm, and then wiping the bend of her elbow with alcohol. Suddenly she shook her head and moved her arm away.

"Not there...."

The mark on her arm would be visible the next day and she didn't want Nyamo to see it. She shifted sideways in the seat and tugged up the hem of her skirt to reveal her thigh. The man looked at her strangely.

"You sure? That's gonna take longer and hurt like a bitch." There weren't any veins in the thigh that could be easily penetrated by a needle so it would take the drug longer to reach her blood stream.

"I'm sure." Yukari untied the rubber cord from around her arm and nodded. She didn't need Nyamo bitching to her about it. The less visible marks she had on her arms, the better.

The man wiped down the top of her leg with the alcohol swab. Yukari leaned back and shut her eyes tightly, her lower lip taken between her teeth. The needle pressed against her skin. She needed it. Godammit how she needed it.

A slight prick of pain. She winced and counted to three. The needle was still there. A burning sensation fanned out from the insertion point and she closed her eyes tighter. The pain was awful as though she had just been bitten by some poisonous insect, but she wouldn't allow herself to scream.

Just as she was about to tell the man to take it out, he removed the needle and sat back. The pain was still there. Looking down she saw that a small red welt had developed where she had been injected and it still burned like Hell.

"There," the man set the emptied syringe back on the table. As a show of good faith, he disconnected the needle and scraped it back and forth along the surface of the table until the tip of it was gone. It would never be used again.

Yukari hugged her arms around herself and leaned against the wall. She was angry at herself, but at the same time she couldn't blame herself. This was the only time that she could ever reach that peak of insurmountable pleasure. It was a pleasure that she had a right to feel.

It took about fifteen minutes before the first wave hit her hard. Absolute euphoria. Her eyes went wide and she looked upwards, lips parted just slightly. A bright warmth encased her, and all of a sudden she found herself falling in love.

"F-fuck..." She couldn't believe it. The colors and textures of everything inside her mind were brought into overwhelming detail. She felt as though she could have picked apart her own existence and reconstructed herself as a creator. She was a goddess. That's how she was supposed to feel. She was supposed to be in control. She could control anything she wanted to. Even her own future. She stretched her back and felt her hands up along her arms. It felt wonderful. Everything felt wonderful. She was almost afraid to move, but she was already moving. She was moving at speeds of two hundred miles per hour without a seat belt and she never wanted to stop.

The man sitting beside her would smile and stroke his fingers back through her hair once more.

"That's right baby....Feels good don't it? That's what you need....Someone to take care of you...."

Yukari was completely gone. She didn't care when the man kissed her, she didn't care when she was hauled up from the seat, she didn't care when she was dragged somewhere, and she didn't care when she felt herself hit the floor. It was the greatest thing that had ever happened. If there was any one who deserved to feel this kind of rapture, it was her. She stretched her arms above her head and closed her eyes with a smile.

Somewhere above her she heard people talking. A man knelt down and grabbed her by the hair to turn her face towards his.

"This one?" His voice was raspy from lack of use and she just barely made out the gold sparkle of a chain that dangled around his neck.

"Yeah. Do it quick," another man replied and grabbed her by the ankles. He turned her over to lay her flat on her back.

Yukari's eyes had half-closed and the grin had faded from her lips. The initial rush was over and she was basking in the warm glow of elation. She heard a zipper coming undone, then felt a weight settle itself above her. Again there were voices.

"Careful. You know where to keep it."

"Shuddup would ya? Cute little thing like her ain't gonna do nothin'."

"Just hurry up before someone comes in."

-----------------

The next morning came crashing down onto Yukari's head like a sack of bricks. It pained her eyes to crack them open. The first thing she registered was sunlight. The next thing she registered was an awful pain in her left leg and back.

With the utmost care she turned herself over to lay on her side with her back to the invading sunlight. Now able to blink her eyes open a little better, she focused on the first thing that came into sight. Her alarm clock. It was on the floor, and so was she. She was still wearing her clothes from the previous night and even her boots were still on, one of them untied. The time on the clock was 7:22. She was going to be late for work. Again.

Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the events that had lead up to the present moment. The images were faint at first. Nyamo, a beer bottle, Nyamo smiling, the back of a cabbie's head, a poster advertising a street band, a man's face, a plastic bag, stairs....

Slowly she brought herself up into a sitting position and pressed her hand to her forehead. Her mouth felt so dry, and the taste in it was awful. She reached down to unlace her boots and worked both of them from her feet. That's when she noticed her thigh. An angry bruise had developed right on top of it. Looked like she would be wearing a long skirt today.

As she tried to stand, her left thigh wrenched with pain. The shock made her cry out and fall back into a sitting position. This was going to be a long day indeed. She tried again, this time favoring the bruised leg and keeping it off the ground.

More images surfaced in her memory as she carefully got to her feet and leaned her hand to her dresser. This time the memories weren't as surprising to her. A bald bartender, a piece of cotton soaking on a spoon, another set of stairs, an orange tabby cat, pipes along the ceiling of a room, a man holding his....

Suddenly she blinked.

"Oh.....shit."

Two men had been standing above her. She remembered being turned onto her back and then one of the men pushing her legs apart. He had been there, holding her arms down while another held her legs....

Quickly she looked down at herself but neither saw nor felt anything odd. It was only when she ran her hand along the back of her skirt that her heart began to pound. Her finger tips brushed over what felt like some sort of crust. In a woozy struggle she peeled off her shirt and turned her skirt around backwards. Across the back of it there were several streaks of a dried, whitish substance. Such an amount of it couldn't have come from just one man.

"Fucking little.....Ugh!" She couldn't have taken the skirt off fast enough. Thoroughly disgusted she turned and gathered up all her articles of clothing, including her bra and panties, and threw them into the trash can. She had never felt so dirty in her life. Her fingers clenched into her hair and she worked hard to fight back the tears of frustration. How could she have let such a thing happen? Part of her wasn't surprised. She had always been a screw up in one way or another. Her class was just going to have to wait this morning. There was no way that she was going to do anything else until she had at least two showers.

In the shower she turned on the hot water and waited for the bathroom to fog up before stepping under the scalding stream. The burn was harsh against her skin but it gave her a temporary sense of catharsis as though she could somehow burn away the events of last night. Perhaps if she could have ridded herself of the first layer of skin she would have felt better.

As she lathered conditioner into her hair she tried hard to remember what exactly had taken place after she shot up. Despite the fact that there had been dried sperm all over the back of her skirt, she didn't feel any kind of discomfort between her legs. If she didn't know any better then she'd say that none of the men had penetrated her at all. That didn't make any sense though. What kind of man in that part of the city wouldn't have wanted to take advantage of an attractive woman like her? Was she not even that good? Not even good enough to be used as some generic female body for a round of mindless fucking?

"What the fuck am I thinking?!"

Brown eyes shut tight as she shook her head in complete disbelief. She had been violated and almost taken advantage of in the worst possible way, and she was wondering why none of the men had gone through with the act? How bad had those drugs fucked her up anyway? Aside from making her feel like God they also seemed to intensify her hidden insecurities.

More tears streaked down the sides of her cheeks by the time she pried her eyes open. Filled with the sudden need to hurt something she pounded the side of her fist against the wall until her entire arm began to throb. No better thing to harm than herself. It actually felt good to do it.

"I can't keep doing this...."

Never again. The drugs were simply not worth it.

Then again, nothing else could make her feel so alive, even if she did feel like dying afterwards.

--------------

"Um...Miss Yukari?" Chiyo tentatively raised her hand.

Miss Yukari had arrived nearly forty five minutes late that morning. That was late even for her. After giving the entire class an assignment to be turned in before lunch, she then slumped over at her desk and went to sleep.

Now it was nearing lunch time and still the language teacher had not woken up. Chiyo hopped up from her seat and took it upon herself to go around and collect the finished assignments from the students. Miss Yukari must not have been feeling very well and she wanted to do something to try and help her.

Tomo grumbled as she handed over her semi-completed work.

"Maaaaan...Why is it that teachers can sleep in class and students can't?"

Yomi looked up from the book she had been reading and arched one cynical eyebrow.

"Maybe it's because teachers tend to work harder than students."

"Miss Yukari you mean? No way! It takes her a week to even grade stuff that we turn in," Tomo replied and leaned back in her chair with arms folded behind her head. It would just be her luck that out of all the teachers in the school, she got stuck with the lazy one. Maybe it wasn't really such a bad thing. The less work the teacher did, the less work she would have to do.

Chiyo took up the last of the papers and walked to the front of the classroom to set the stack on the teacher's desk. Miss Yukari had her arms folded with her face hidden into them, still very much asleep.

It was only when the lunch chime rang that Yukari slowly lifted her head and yawned. She was still tired and very uncomfortable with the throbbing pain in her left thigh, but she had no choice but to deal with it.

She offered no excuses to her class as she stood up from her desk and walked from the room. With each step a sharp pain shot straight up from her leg and into the rest of her body. It was all she could do to keep herself from limping as she made her way down the hallway. That would have only sparked questions that would lead to suspicions and then to accusations. She didn't need anyone telling her that there was something wrong. She could take care of herself just fine.

------------

Note: As always, please R&R. Yukari's downward spiral is only just beginning. :)