Tw for this chapter: description of some light non-consensual touching
Your weeks blur together as you become accustomed to life as a hostess.
You become familiar with your fellow staff members and even make some new friends.
Etsuko, you find out your purple-haired saviour is called, is more than happy to show you the ropes. She and Yuki become a constant in your life.
Your routine becomes working from Monday to Friday and having your weekly phone call conservation with your parents every Sunday evening.
Your dad never says much but your mom is always eager to hear every detail of your workweek.
Every Sunday, you're reminded of how much you miss them.
But life is starting to feel normal here.
You're sprawled out on your bed, your back rested against the fluffy pillows. You curl the phone cord around your finger absently as you list off all the events of your past week.
It's almost scary how quickly you've adjusted to your schedule of pulling all-nighters and sleeping all day. Often, on your way home from work, you find yourself passing men in dark ties and darker eye-bags on their way to their opening shift.
Your parents have started staying up a little later on Sundays just to talk to you. You appreciate them so much.
"And your boss?" Your mom prods, "what's he like?"
"He's..."
You find yourself trailing off, searching for an adjective.
He looks so scary with his eye-patch and the deep frown lines engraved onto his face. But he's always so patient with his staff.
You've watched how he navigates from the almost outdated level of formal Japanese with the customers to his Kansai accent with his staff.
He's a walking contradiction is what he is.
"He's nice enough," is all you end up saying.
You both talk for a while longer, then end the call with a warm feeling in your chest.
The next day starts on a bad note and only goes down from there.
You're so tired you sleep through your alarm. You only startle awake ten minutes before the club opens, leaving you next to no time to get ready.
You almost break an ankle running down the street in your heels and your hair is a mess by the time you arrive.
Luckily, one of the other hostesses is nice enough to pin back your flyaways and add a touch of lipstick.
She manages to make you at least a little presentable.
You brace yourself for a talking-to from Majima when he inevitably finds out.
You carry on with your shift as best you can, trying to hide how flustered you are.
Your first two sessions go without a hitch and you finally allow yourself to breathe.
It's then that things take a turn from bad to worse.
An older man in a suit is assigned to you and you take a seat next to him.
"I'll take the most expensive bottle you got," he orders.
"Thank you so much!" You answer.
You raise your hand to flag down a waiter.
Your guest puts in an order for expensive foods for the table and a bottle of champagne each.
Without warning, his hand slides closer to you until it's against the side of your leg.
You begin looking around for someone you can call over.
Your waiter has left already and Majima is busy at another table.
The customer's fingers are inching up your exposed skin.
You want to stop him but the words stick in your throat.
All you can do is search around wildly, trying to make eye contact with a co-worker that can help you.
Time seems to slow.
Finally, mercifully, Majima looks your way.
"Oh hell no," you catch him mouthing.
He looks so intimidating when he's annoyed that you almost feel sorry for your handsy guest. Almost.
Majima takes a knee to make eye contact with the both of you, "I'm very sorry sir, but we have a strictly no touching policy."
"Yeah? Well what are you going to do about it?"
"Is that your final answer?" Majima says.
"Bring it, you fucking cyclops."
They're both standing now. Your boss seems to be doing his best to keep his cool.
"Youda," he barks eventually, "watch the floor for me. I've got something to take care of."
The floor manager nods and begins doing his best to keep everything else under control.
You follow nervously as the two of them step outside, not sure what's going to happen next.
Majima rotates his shoulders, warming up.
You don't like the looks of this one bit. You decide you just can't watch and cover your eyes with your hands.
Unfortunately, you can still hear the noises of fists impacting and the intake of breath whenever a hit connects.
You try to block it out, not wanting to hear Majima getting hurt because of you.
Think of something else, something else, something else.
"You okay?"
You pry your fingers from your face slowly to reveal your boss standing over you.
You'd unconsciously slid down to a crouching position on the stairs, and so you lift yourself back up into a standing position.
There's blood on his knuckles.
"Y-yeah," you stammer out, the shaking in your voice betraying you.
"You don't sound fine. I'm sorry, I should've kept a closer eye on you." He bows deeply in apology.
"No, it's not your fault," you assure him quickly.
He straightens again, returning to his full height.
He's much taller than you despite his constant slouch. The extra inches your high heels add do nothing to bridge the gap either.
"You should take the rest of the night off. And I think I should walk you home," Majima offers.
"You don't have to do that."
"No, it's only because I let myself get distracted that this happened. You're still a newbie and besides, it's my job as your manager to look after you. "
He flicks his cigarettes and lights one, letting it sit in his mouth as he slides the box back into his pocket.
You ask for one to settle your nerves.
"It's a bad habit to start," he warns.
But he relents and hands you one anyway.
You raise it to your lips and he chuckles.
"Too far in your mouth. The filter will probably be too wet to light properly."
You flush in embarrassment. You've never really smoked before and it clearly shows.
"Hey it's okay," he assures you once he's finished laughing. "Probably not something you want to learn how to do properly anyway. "
"Still, isn't it a waste if I don't finish it?"
"Consider it an apology gift," he smiles.
You've both begun walking, him following slightly behind as you lead the way.
It's summer, so despite the fact that it's evening, the sky is still so bright outside.
"You're too hard on yourself," you reply.
He seems to be taking it worse than you are.
You were pretty shaken up initially, but something about his presence is incredibly soothing. You already feel better.
"Maybe you're right," he says quietly.
You walk the rest of the way home in silence until you reach your door.
"Well, I'm heading back now. Call me at the club if you need anything."
"Thank you, Majima-san. I'm sorry I dragged you away from work. "
"Nah," he smiles, " Youda has it covered. Besides, I don't take enough breaks. "
He lights another cigarette as you unlock your door, then turns to leave once you're safely inside.
You wave him off, then close the front door.
You place your wasted cigarette on your bedside table. You'd had it unconsciously scrunched in your hand on the walk home.
Flopping onto your bed, you turn to stare at it. You feel off.
You find yourself wishing Majima had stayed a little longer.
What is with me lately?
You decide that you're just tired and call it a night.
You drift off to sleep, still thinking about the events of the day.