Chapter 21

"Didn't you say you'd gotten surveillance for us?"

"Yeah,"

"...Where are they?"

"You are not supposed to—Oh.. They were parked just there a second ago. Maybe they went to get something to eat?"

"Because it's not like it's their job to stay there or anything,"

"I'll call them,"

I placed my head on the counter, and closed my eyes. Pasha had just got back from walking the dogs, I'd just finished my pole session, when I'd remembered he'd gotten police surveillance for us.

I let out a sigh and propped myself up. I continued with my schoolwork—now on insect conservation, my last topic before my final research project. I didn't mind it, I was just nervous about being able to do my master's. I'd do my master's at Seinan, not Oxford, as not only was online learning a chore, but Oxford didn't do an entomology master's.

Pasha hardly showed an interest in my work; he said he found it unsettling. Once, when watching me handle my cockroaches, he'd said; 'It's the legs—too many legs'. Which I found rather pathetic.

On that day he took notice of what I was doing. Not because he was interested in insect conservation, but because he was trying to get me to talk to him about what'd happened the other night.

He asked about my work first. Then left me alone, before returning and offering me food, which I declined. I'd hardly eaten since the other night, I'd only been able to stomach alcohol or citrus fruit.

Pasha wouldn't leave it alone. He kept asking if I'd have vegetables and hummus or popcorn. I refused, getting more angry with each request until I locked myself in my room. He slept outside my bedroom door that night.

There was surveillance the next morning, though they weren't doing a lot. I'd found a beautiful pink fountain placed outside the door that morning.

When I went to work that afternoon, Ryōma was practically waiting for me. I didn't want to go anywhere near him, but I didn't have a choice. He gave me work to do, putting his hand on my arse whilst he explained what I had to do.

Every-time he touched me I was reminded of what'd happened the other night. I didn't want to think about it ever again. Thinking about it was too tiring.

It'd happened before and it'd happen again. It happens to prostitutes all the time, no one else cared, why should I? I couldn't tell anyone about it for that very reason, and even then they'd just blame it on what I was wearing.

All I could do was suck it up. Deal with it. Move on. No matter how much I wanted to cry and scream about it—I just accepted it.

Pasha and Lydia noticed, or pretended too. Lydia began dragging me away from Ryōma, which was a relief. She let me go early sometimes so I could focus on my schoolwork and she never once tried to hurt or touch me. She asked about Ryōma sometimes, but I never said anything.

It was a bit suspicious, honestly.

Does she expect something in return? What does she want from me?

I wondered if she'd one day she'd turn round and say I owed her something.

For the time being, I decided to just accept her help, even if that did mean I didn't have as much information for Shuu Tsukiyama.

Though, after the original excitement of all the new information, I quickly realised that there wasn't actually a lot happening.

My 'stalker' had been quiet for a while too, and I wondered if maybe she'd left me alone. She'd do this a lot though, which was when the messages started.

I saw it when was starting a session with Shuu Tsukiyama. We were discussing his water intake and I had to do a calculation, so I couldn't ignore the long text message I'd received two hours earlier.

It was from an unknown number, and simply read; 'Alas my love, you do me wrong,

To cast me off discourteously;

For I have loved you so long,

Delighting in your company,'

Original, I know, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

I stared at the message for a long time, before letting out a shaky exhale.

Tsukiyama looked up. "Quoi? Are you alright?"

I looked up. "Oh, yes. I just got this, uh, strange message is all,"

"Strange how?"

"It's the first verse of Greensleeves,"

He shrugged. "It's probably just a wrong number. Nothing to worry about,"

"Could this be from her?"

"Of course it could be, but if it's only the one—"

"But it could be! She's been in my house loads. She's had access to my phone,"

"If you're that worried then tell your colleagues. Now, come on, I'm very busy,"

I put my phone away and tried to focus on the session. It seemed impossible, but I managed.

"Say," Shuu Tsukiyama asked on his rest. "You haven't researched all that Catholic yoga, have you?"

"For Genesis Slawter? A bit—" I replied.

"Oh, excellent!"

"Hm?"

"She adores yoga, but could never find anyone to suit it for her,"

"Woah, woah, woah—She didn't offer me a job—"

"She's desperate for a yoga teacher. She really likef you too. It's because you're about as thin as her—she likes that. You have to say yes,"

"I do?"

"You're not obliged, but given the fact you have three jobs—"

"I'll do it,"

"Great. I'll call her now—"

"No, you will not. You have four sets of push-ups left,"

"Oh, bien sur!"

"Single-arm, to failure, and I swear to God, if you do that worm-thing—"

"I won't,"

After the session, he called Genesis and it was one of the weirdest conversations I've ever listened to.

"Well, that's wonder—sérieusement? She hasn't been to a party since she was twelve...I know," He laughed. "Actually," He looked to me. "I think she'd fit right in, with some work. I'll just ask—Oh, okay. Ciao," He smiled and put his phone down. "Genesis wants you to come to a party—tonight,"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"She'd like you there tonight. I'll have to pick you up. Be ready by sev—"

"I'm in Shinjuku tonight,"

"There'll be plenty of work for you there. Trust me. Wear something Alice In Wonderland themed,"

"I'm sorry, but no,"

"No?"

"I have work,"

"You said. But if you want this job with Genesis, then you'd do well to show up, and I assure you, I'll make sure there's work for you there. Plenty of it,"

"Are you offering to be my pimp? Because every pimp I've ever had has been terrible,"

"I'm not your pimp. I'll simply promote you. You're naturally..." He searched for the word.

I rolled my eyes. "Blonde? Tall? European? Don't say Aryan, because I swear to fuck—That term was completely stolen by the Nazis, which I am not going to be associated with—"

"Don't be absurd," He paused. "I meant exotic. With natural hair that colour and thickness, pale skin and those doll-eyes of yours...You're practically doing the work for me,"

I nodded. "OK. Fine. Only I don't have anything to wear,"

"I'll get you something. Measurements?"

"Twenty-eight chest, nineteen point five waist, thirty hips..." I listed off each number by heart. I'd taken them yesterday and was desperately proud, as my diet of alcohol, coffee and citrus fruits had brought my weight to ninety-five point two pounds.

After writing it down, he'd said. "Parfait. You'll be easy to dress because you're so thin and tall," which made me feel proud and vain. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Anything, really...though particularly I'll wear anything pink or green,"

He'd nodded checked his watch and said he'd pick me up later.

I went home to study first. Whilst home, I received several calls from the same number that'd sent me the text. They didn't leave a message, and I was too scared to answer it. Ryōma sent me messages too, which I was forced to reply to. He liked sending me unsolicited dick pics, demanding I send some pictures back. I just sent him my , which he didn't like at all.

Pasha didn't get back before I left. I knew he was talking to Oliver Gunnarson and Katherine Raabe today and I wondered if they'd find anything.

I left his dinner in the fridge with instructions, before checking on the animals and meeting Shuu Tsukiyama, who gave me a little white and pink dress with a bow just between my breasts, which were pushed up by my overly tight bra.

Wearing that dress made me feel calmer. I was still petrified of something happening to me again, but the dress made me feel less petrified.

The Blue Caterpillar wasn't quite a club or bar, but it was something. There were wonky stairs and doors leading nowhere, the place was basked in a constant purple light and it cost 6600 per person to get in.

We passed through some wonky corridors that were decorated with cards, books and most interestingly; pinned insects. We came to a large, smoke-filled room with even more purple and blue light. There were several velvet sofas in the middle of the room. Hookahs were dotted around the room, which were being heavily used, giving off the stench of cannabis and tobacco.

I was in awe of the other outfits in the place. Shuu Tsukiyama's caterpillar jacket was genius and Genesis Slawter wore a dress made completely out of cards.

Speaking of, Genesis Slawter pounced on me the second I walked in, greeting me as if we hadn't only met once.

I shuddered at her beauty. I wanted to touch her, to feel her skin against mine. To count her ribs and compare my waist to hers. I wanted to see if I could possibly be better.

"You came!" She'd squealed, grasping my wrists. "Oh, I hoped you'd come," She smiled. Her eyes were frighteningly wide and glassy. "Does this mean you'll teach me? Oh, of course it does! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She hugged me. "Come, come, come! You need a drink—"

"Now, Genesis," Tsukiyama stopped Genesis. "I'm not sure those would be appropriate for Charlotte,"

"Oh!" She looked at me. "They've got lean in them, is that OK?"

"Uh. God, no,"

"Coke?"

"No,"

"What do you do?"

"Alcohol,"

"Oh. How dull," She said, deflated. I felt bad for disappointing her. She looked up, eyes bright again, and jumped at the sight of a skinny man with round glasses and floppy hair. He was underdressed, wearing a black turtleneck and trousers.

"Dory! You took ages," Genesis cried, approaching the man, who rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," He said. "Takamara started talking to me and I couldn't escape,"

I realised I recognised him. I remember him being on the cover of the magazine that Shuu Tsukiyama was normally on. I wondered if there was tension there.

The man gave me a side eye. "Who's this? You're new,"

Genesis hugged me to her side. "This is Charlotte. She's my yoga teacher,"

"Mine too, and my personal trainer," Tsukiyama butted in, pulling me away from Genesis. He did seem to be giving the man a look of contempt. "Charlotte's new to Tokyo. She's an academic—from England,"

"Wales," I sighed.

"Uhuh. Which university? What do you study?"

"Oxford. Though, I'm transferring to here,"

"Are you?" Tsukiyama asked. "When? Where?"

"Don't interrupt her," The man looked back to me. "Your major?"

"I'm a triple major. Entomology in zoology, English lit and foreign languages,"

"Them I'm sure you'll fit right in. Doryo Fuyuhiko, by the way,"

"Nice to meet you,"

I've heard that name before.

Genesis nudged Doryo Fuyuhiko's shoulder. "I'm waiting,"

"Right, sorry, your majesty. Tsukiyama, you want one?" Fuyuhiko held a baggie of coke up.

"Goodness, no,"

"Charlotte?"

"She doesn't do drugs,"

"Suit yourself then,"

I turned to Tsukiyama. "Does that happen a lot?"

"Oui, is that a problem?"

"No,"

"Charlotte!" Genesis called out, sniffing. "Come on," She pulled my hand. "You need a drink,"

"I'll have iced coffee," Tsukiyama called out.

"I wasn't talking to you,"

Genesis convinced me to do shots with her at the bar, before pulling me to dance with her. Though, sometimes she'd walk off, which is when I'd work.

When I returned, Genesis was eating. She ate a lot—I once saw her eat a whole cheesecake and a sushi platter. I'd have to help her throw it up later.

She'd seen me and giggled and danced around me. "Do you like poetry?" She asked. Her card dress had starting to fall and curl, her breasts almost uncovered.

"Not really," I said, watching her.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes,"

"Good. That's so good..." She looked into my eyes and placed her head on my shoulder, "You're so beautiful,"

"Thank you,"

She stopped. "No, seriously. You're so pretty. Were you always so beautiful? Wow. That makes me hate you, Charlotte, you know? I hate you. Why are you so beautiful? That's not fair!" She giggled, resting her head on my shoulder. "But I love you,"

I stayed still. I didn't like her touching me so much, but I couldn't exactly tell her to fuck off. She was my boss and Tsukiyama's friend. Objecting could be social suicide.

I watched her compliment and insult me, before she began suddenly reciting from Leviticus. She dizzily wandered off again and later I saw her eating mushrooms.

I earned a lot of money that night. I even gave someone a private dance in the toilets.

It was all quite entertaining, really. I remember engaging in a lot of conversation about literature and film, especially with Fuyuhiko and Tsukiyama.

I found out who Fuyuhiko was—one of Tokyo's youngest and most successful architects. He was also an infamous minimalist. He told me this in his car, because he drove me home instead of Tsukiyama.

I slept weirdly that night. I could've sworn that I felt another person's presence in the room—like there was breathing from under my bed. I felt like something was caressing and whispering to me. My bed was warm when I woke up. The window was open, where as it hadn't been before.

I assumed it was Pasha, who else could it have been?

But then I saw the note in the kitchen from him.

It read; 'Had to go and see my girlfriend—kinda serious. Asked officers outside to check on you every hour. Could you feed Kiwi for me? Thanks.'

I flipped it over, seeing something more on the back. Maybe he'd come back or something.

I felt a chill right down my spine.

I cannot describe what was in it. I simply can't.

I froze in place, my head swaying and legs buckling, and last night's alcohol came up onto the floor.

As I was gasping for air, mouth burning with bile, I realised something else.

My phone was ringing.