Chapter 8

'Awesome!' Mignon shouted over the thrumming music. Mai—who never dropped more than one glass a night—had already dropped eight and a bottle of Polish vodka. It was only two a.m. She reached down to pick up the shards of glass, but Mignon beat her to it with a dustpan and broom. 'Don't worry. Day three is always the worst. It's a rite of passage. If you don't quit or get fired tonight, then you automatically are admitted into Club Centre Bar. Keep up the good work.'

'How many glasses is that tonight, Taniyama-chan?'

Mai stood abruptly and spun around to face Aoi, and in the process, her elbow collided with a tray of utensils and the contents clattered to the ground.

The head barman howled, and at first Mai panicked, thinking that one of the bottle openers had stabbed him in the foot. But then he turned his face in her direction and seemed to be laughing. 'She's got the Day Three Curse, Aoi-san!'

Aoi grabbed Mai by the crook of her arm and hauled her through to the back of house. Mai'd never been fired before, but in the movies people sometimes got physically thrown out into the alleyway. If Aoi threw her into the night, Mai doubted that she'd be able to peel herself off the pavement.

Mai's foot caught on something, and she stumbled as Aoi changed directions and dragged her into the kitchen rather than the back entryway. Gene trailed behind them, seeming unsure as to he could do to help. Barely avoiding a collision with several prep cooks, they wove their way into the dishwashing alcove.

Fujiwara-san stood waiting for them. 'What you've broken, it'll be coming out of your wages! It was a mistake letting Aoi put you on the centre bar—'

'She's got the Day Three Curse,' Aoi interrupted, stepping in front of Mai. 'Everyone on the centre bar has suffered it. Give her a break.'

'No. She's costing me money, and I've had a client asking for her—'

'She's Ouji-san's favourite barmaid!' Aoi shouted in a final, desperate thrust of defence.

Fujiwara-san started to say something more but stopped himself. 'One more chance. One more. But if you put your foot out of line….'

'I'll quit,' Mai hissed.

Fujiwara-san laughed, strained and falsetto. 'Where else are you going to make tips like this? Another club? One word from me and no one will hire you. And we all know that you need the money. You're better off working for me than selling yourself to the yakuza.'

'That's enough,' Aoi said. 'Taniyama-chan gets one more chance—you said it. Leave the girl alone.'

Fujiwara-san straightened his jacket. 'Than I will continue to disappoint my client for a little longer. Soon, though. Soon,' he said, and then he sauntered out of the alcove.

'Who's Ouji-san?' Gene asked, watching Fujiwara-san harass kitchen staff before finally departing.

'I don't know who Ouji-san is,' Mai said.

'I believe you call him Captain-san. Though I have no idea why.' Aoi slowly turned to face Mai.

Mai touched her hand to her face. 'Because he wears the eye-patch, like a pirate captain,' she whispered, feeling a little foolish.

'Huh, so that explains it,' Aoi mused almost to herself. 'He started wearing that patch as some kind of cosplay joke—probably on the first night you served him. You called him Captain-san, and he's worn the patch ever since.' She sighed, shaking her head in bafflement. 'Anyway, you probably should know that your 'Captain-san' is one of Gin Knockers' silent partners—though he doesn't support Fujiwara's side-enterprise.'

Mai had never imagined that her favourite customer—the man whose tips kept her alive and free—was actually one of the owners. 'I… I…'

'You didn't know. We all know that you didn't know. Ouji-san likes it like that, so just forget that I ever told you about it.' Aoi gestured around the alcove. 'Now, I'm parking you in here for the rest of the night. Think you can manage to wash and dry dishes without breaking them all?'

'Yes.'

'Good. Don't disappoint me.' Frowning, she placed a hand on Mai's head. 'You're still a bit warm. Are you taking the medication I gave you?'

Mai nodded, pulling out a pack of tablets from her apron pocket.

'If you aren't better tomorrow, you need to see a doctor.' Aoi ruffled Mai's hair. 'And you need a trim.'

Mai blushed and looked away. She'd been planning to grow it out.

'You don't like the style?'

'No, Aoi-san! It's…. You're too nice to me.'

'Idiot thinking like that is why you're always getting into trouble,' Aoi sighed. 'A doctor, tomorrow, Taniyama-chan. Now start washing those dishes, and don't break anything.'

Mai grabbed an empty dish rack and set to work.

'I'm really starting to like that Aoi-san,' Gene said.

Twisting around to throw him an exasperated look, Mai nearly dropped a stack of bowls. 'I am cursed,' she groaned.

The cupboard door at the far end of the alcove squeaked open. 'You, me and my brother.' A pair of long, bare legs eased onto the floor, and then Kiki slowly uncurled from the cramped space. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her lipstick was smeared. 'We're all cursed, Taniyama-chan. Is Fujiwara gone?' She slurred ever so slightly.

Mai glanced toward the kitchen and didn't see the horrid man. Gene nodded in agreement.

'He's gone. How long have you been hiding in there?'

She pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka. 'I don't know. What time is it?'

'Half two, I think. No later.'

Kiki nodded. 'Not long enough. That man will still be here. If you think Fujiwara is bad, you've never met him.' She took a swig from the vodka bottle and swished the liquid around like mouthwash. 'I'm sure you've seen him, though. Total Anglophile, looks okay from a distance, tall, good body—but a face like a bloated fish.' Face twisted with disgust, she tried to suck her cheeks in to make guppy lips. 'And he has this way of looking at you that's just… wrong. And I don't mind guys looking at me. It's the way they talk to you, though—talk at you. Some want you to say no but mean yes. Some want you to say yes but mean no but allow yes. That man, though—he just wants you to say no. Do you know what I mean?'

Mai wasn't sure she followed at all, but Gene grimaced.

'I mean it is so obvious what he wants—but then all he does is talk. I'd rather just get on with it—but he goes on and on and on,' Kiki continued, the vodka sloshing around in the bottle. 'I know I shouldn't complain. It's great money, right?'

Mai shrugged. She really didn't know the pay difference between barmaid and hostess.

'Aoi is right,' Kiki snorted a laugh and set aside the vodka bottle. 'You are too cute, Taniyama-chan. But you have to understand. I'm not a career hostess. I'm just doing this gig to make the cash I need to get to Milan. I've got this agent friend, and he's sure I'll make a mint modelling haute couture in Europe.' She gazed down at her breasts and proudly plumped them before slapping her hands against her thighs in frustration. 'But that man, he thinks I'm a professional like those other hostesses, and the things he says to me are just outrageous. It's enough to make a girl want to off herself—if she didn't know she'd be wearing Valentino and Gucci in a year's time.' She smacked her mouth and grabbed for the vodka bottle again. She only got the bottle halfway to her mouth before she stopped and started to speak again. 'And total ew, he's got this incestuous fantasy thing—can you imagine? You've been a very naughty girl.'

'She's really drunk,' Gene said.

'Yeah….' Mai didn't really know what to say to the girl. She'd never seen Kiki drink at work—in fact, she'd never seen any employee drink during serving hours.

'You wouldn't understand,' Kiki said, slumping back into the cupboard. Her miniscule dress didn't even begin to cover her panties. Gene politely kept his eyes averted. For the most part. 'You better get washing those dishes or else you'll get into trouble again.'

Hurriedly returning to her task, Mai shot Gene a meaningful glare, and he had the good grace to blush.

Kiki chattered on, and Mai wondered if she was insane as well as drunk. If she truly wanted to get away from Fujiwara-san and the ugly patron, she should've crawled back into the cupboard or at least whispered. '… So that's why I'm cursed. Of course that's nothing compared to my brother. My brother has inherited a demonic flat from our uncle. And by demonic, I mean, my uncle bankrupted and killed himself fixing up this place and trying to rent it out, but no one ever rents it. I'd live there myself, if it weren't all the way in Ota. I mean, South Tokyo? I don't think so. My brother is forking out a crazy amount of money for unoccupied property insurance, and he's so desperate to break the curse that he's willing to rent it without any key money or security deposit and for three, no five times less than it is worth. 85,000-yen a month.'

The pan that Mai was drying clattered to the floor. 'No key money and no security deposit?'

'Is 85,000-yen good?' Gene asked.

'Is it four tatami? Or unfurnished and rat infested? Does it have a toilet?' Mai asked.

'I'm telling you, my uncle bankrupted himself and then he killed himself over this flat. It is lush.' Seeing as Kiki was still flashing her panties and, if she kept on wiggling around, she'd soon be flaunting her nipples everywhere, Mai wasn't sure what the hostess considered 'lush'.

'Do you think I could get a property viewing?' Mai asked, picking up the pan that she'd dropped.

'Mai, this is not a good idea. The place sounds haunted,' Gene said.

'Are you looking for a new flat?' Kiki-tan asked, sitting up straighter. 'I can ring my brother right now, if you want.' Not waiting, she pulled out a mobile phone from who knows where, and she dialled a number. Not unexpected Kiki ended up in a heated argument about waking people up in the dead of night. She paced the alcove and shouted down the phone.

Even if the flat was a small studio, 85,000-yen was an okay price. It was the lack of key money and deposit that was important. Plus if she rented the flat privately, she wouldn't have to pay letting agency fees. She could afford to move in immediately, and she wouldn't have to stay at Saint Giles anymore. Furthermore Gene could help her put up wards right away, and she could finally get a good night's sleep without worrying about Kennel Boy.

'I'm against this, Mai. This flat doesn't sound like a good idea at all,' Gene said.

'Kiki!' Fujiwara-san shouted across the kitchen, his face purple with rage.

Kiki hung up her mobile and darted out of the alcove, never looking back at Mai.

Groaning, Mai pushed another rack of dishes into the industrial dishwasher. 'Guess it was too good to be true,' she muttered at the exact same time that Gene said, 'That's lucky. At least we don't have to worry about an exorcism.'

Mai glared at the ghost.

…

3 p.m. Asaka Hiro. On one side of the napkin, Kiki-tan had written the time and her brother's name. On the other side she'd written an address in Den-en-Chofu, the garden suburb of southern Tokyo.

Mai had another four hours before she had to catch the train south. Sitting on the ground in the shadows of a large tree, Mai fought to keep her eyes open. She'd managed to wash all the dishes without breaking any, and when she'd started to mop the dance floor, some of the centre bar staff had stopped to chat and laugh about the Day Three Curse. Right before she'd finished for the night, Fujiwara-san and Kiki-tan had shoved by her—and Kiki had stuffed the napkin in Mai's back pocket.

'So I visualise a shield that clings to my body first and then I build outward?' Mai asked, though at that moment she couldn't summon up enough energy to even visualise.

'You won't be able to create a shield if you're this exhausted,' Gene said, standing with his back to her. 'Let's go back to Saint Giles. Let's forget about viewing this demonic flat.'

'I hate that place,' she whispered, wiping cold sweat from her forehead.

'You'll hate a haunted flat more.'

'You don't know that it is haunted.'

'Don't play dumb, Mai. Didn't working for my brother teach you anything?'

'It taught me the value of "please" and "thank you",' she said.

'Please, Mai. Please. You're positively drained. You're ill. I've come up with a plan. I've been thinking about it for ages. You're going to ring Lin.'

Shaking her head, Mai's eyes slid shut.

…

She lay on her stomach on the kennel room futon. It smelled sour and musky and moulded. A fully aroused adult male pressed hard against her back. She shuddered with fear. Just because she'd never physically been in this sort of situation did not mean she didn't comprehend the gravity of it. She strained and tried to twist to the side. If she could identify her assailant—the man with the blurred face. The man that butchered the other woman. She tried to drop low and squirm away.

He used the movement to tighten his hold on her. One hand dug into her hipbone; the other slid, cold and rough, beneath Mai's shirt. Cold sweat broken out all over her body, and she blinked hard against her tears.

She could get out of this. She could. All she needed to do was focus. Focus. Focus.

'Your unwillingness to assist is causing trouble for more than just one person.' Kennel Boy blinked into the dream and crouched before her. 'Oh dear, what would people think if they saw you in this position, Mai? Naughty, naughty. But you like being treated like trash, don't you? You get off on it.'

Blur Face ground himself against her from behind.

Mai's mind and body were at war. While intellectually she knew fighting Blur Face's restrains would be futile, tremors of fear rocked her nerves.

Kennel Boy leaned in to whisper into her ear, and his long necklace of human teeth dragged across Mai's cheek. 'Corpses, strangulation, the shattering of your pretty little hands in the traditional fashion—you're either very strong or very weak,' he said.

The hand on her waist slid upward until it rested on the underside of her breast. Mai bucked, but Blur Face seemed to enjoy it and pressed his body firmly against her back. Mai held in a whimper.

'So stubborn,' Kennel Boy said. 'Stubborn, noble, stupid, and prideful. Just. Like. Him. It makes me want to gut you right here. Now. Screw the consequences. But I have to wait. Because the time will come when you have served your purpose—when he watches you die screaming his name…' Kennel Boy shoved his grubby fingers against Mai's mouth and caressed her teeth. 'He'll crumble. And finally I'll have what is mine.' Mai jerked her head to the side in a futile attempt to bite Kennel Boy's worming fingers. 'But until then my companion here has his own needs.'

Mai clenched her eyes, trying to ignore Blur Face's calloused hand as it crept higher. She thought of a woollen blanket clinging to every millimetre of her body—scratchy but thick and warm—and on top of the blanket, she imagined a bed of a million needles pointing outward, and scalding liquid flowed through and over the needles.

Kennel Boy breathed deep. 'Tea? Tea and tears, Mai?' he laughed. 'Tea and tears, and still he doesn't come for you.'

Blur Face nipped at her neck, and Mai's stomach roiled. 'Kami… kami,' she whimpered.

Kennel Boy gripped her chin. 'You're not wanted.'

'God doesn't listen to whores,' Blur Face murmured, his tongue delving into her ear.

'No!' Mai choked, struggling to ram her elbow backwards and dislodge Blur Face, but in one hand, he captured her wrist, and with the other he clenched her breast. 'No!'

'You're weak, and you've been forsaken!' Kennel Boy yelled, seeming somehow both gleeful and enraged by this discovery.

Blur Face flipped her over, and with one hand he pinned both her wrists overhead. From a crate beside the futon, he drew the black bladed knife. Writhing and bowing her back, Mai twisted so that she could look into Kennel Boy's flat eyes. 'Just because no one rushes to my rescue in this nightmare does not mean that I've been forsaken in reality,' she bit out, thoroughly pissed off. 'And what would you know about waking life, anyway? You only exist in my mind.'

A hot line streaked across her abdomen, and the boy smiled. 'That's good to know.'