Majima time

And so, you head over Bishamon bridge, then down Shofukucho Street. Every so often, you glance down at the street directions scrawled on the back of a grocery list that the purple-haired stranger had pressed into your palm earlier this morning. How she had tracked you down again was a mystery, but you'd written it off as old people magic.

"The manager has a agreed to fit you in for an interview in an hour. I told you he'd be no match for my feminine charms. I'd take you there, but I have some errands to run before my shift today. I'll see you there if everything goes well."

And with that, she'd taken off just as suddenly as she'd arrived.

You blinked at her receding silhouette, feeling bewildered at the sheer abruptness of it all.

Now following her transcribed instructions, you head down the street opposite the cheerful Don Quijote store, take a left turn and pass the temple, and finally turn left at the end of the street.

You come face to face with the bright sign that announces the name of the cabaret club: Sunshine. Pausing at the entrance, you take a deep breath to steel yourself, then match through the bright archway with your head held high.

You catch snippets of a passionate conversation from the floor above you: "Yes I know we're short on girls, but I still think that Obatarian has a nasty surprise planned for me."

You can hear another masculine voice replying, but you can't quite catch the words.

Curious, you pause halfway through the first flight of stairs, wanting to catch the rest.

"Still, she's a mighty fine hostess, so I figured I'd hear her out. The new girl should be here any minute now."

Taking that as your cue, you hurry up the rest of the stairs.

In fact, you're in such a rush that you barrel right into a man in a suit. The sudden decline in momentum almost causes you to fall flat on your face. But calloused hands grasp your shoulders, steadying you gently but firmly, saving you from an unceremonious face-plant.

Mortified, you begin apologising profusely, bowing over and over, not daring to even make eye contact.

"Well, you're definitely eager."

It's the same voice you'd overheard from the floor above.

"You the new girl?" He continues.

You nod in reply, not yet brave enough to speak.

"Name's Majima. I'm the manager of this place."

You practically feel your soul leave your body out of sheer embarrassment. You can just see the headstone now, 'here lies (y/n's) career, dead before it even had a chance.'

Your expression must give away your feelings, because he quickly speaks up again.

"Hey, don't worry about your entrance. We can pretend it never happened. "

You finally find it in yourself meet his eyes- or, eye, as you quickly find out.

He's handsome, that much is undeniable. His hair is sleek and soft and his face is sharp and chiseled. He's smiling at you, just a little, probably trying to ease your nerves.

You muster a slight smile in return.

"See, there you go," he says, "much better. So, shall we get started? I'd like to do a mock session to gage your skills. Just pretend I'm a customer."

"Um... I've never actually done anything like this before," you say nervously.

"Well, everyone's gotta start somewhere. Just relax and you'll be fine."

He leads you to one of the booths and takes a seat. Hesitantly, you sit down next to him.

"I didn't get your name," he says.

You give it to him.

Your nerves start to settle the more time progresses. He has a surprisingly comforting presence despite his dangerous appearance.

"So, what are your strengths?" Majima asks.

"I'm motivated, and I'm a hard worker. I've never worked in a cabaret before, but I'm a fast learner. I tend to pick things up pretty quickly. I also work relatively well under pressure."

"That's good to hear. I'm not gonna go easy on you. I know I'm meant to be pretending to be a customer here, but I gotta ask, what makes you want to work in a cabaret all of a sudden?"

"I just moved here and it's pretty difficult to adapt to the dialect. Everyone speaks so fast it's hard to keep up. I figured the best way to learn would be to work with people. So when someone suggested I work here, I thought it was worth a try. Honestly, I also haven't financially recovered from the move here either, so the pay is an added bonus."

"I'm not from Osaka myself actually," he smiles.

"Really? You could've fooled me. You have the accent down perfectly."

"Well I'll be happy to give ya some expert tips. You probably can't tell because of the eye-patch, but I'm winking."

You giggle a little at that.

"Looking at your CV and your mock session, I think you'd be a good match here. I'm going to warn you though, I run a tight ship here. I'm going to have to whip you into shape. That being said, if you think you can handle it, I'll see you tomorrow for your first shift."

You give your most authentic smile, "I'm looking forward to it, Majima-san. Ookini ne."

"I guess you do learn fast."

As you head out the door of the club, you can't help but feel giddy.

So far, you've made your first friend and even bagged a job. It definitely doesn't hurt that your new boss is easy on the eyes.

You shake your head as if to dislodge the thought. There's definitely got to be some sort of rule about dating the manager.

But a large part of you can't help but hope there isn't.

You feel weird, you've never really had time for romance, yet here you are having weird thoughts about a man you just met.

It's very unlike you.

You hope it's just some bizarre illness or homesickness and that it'll die down.

Little do you know, it's only going to get worse.

Ookini ne is osaka slang for thank you