He feels the weight of her hand on his knee before the pressure of her body sinks into the mattress beside him, as if she's floated there.
"Do you want me to stop?" she whispers, when her hand pauses its journey on his thigh.
He gives a ridged jerk of his head.
"I don't usually sleep with clients."
He wishes he could believe that. They both know it's not true.
He wishes he could ignore the practiced way her mouth plants evenly spaced kisses on his face, just skirting the edge of his untouched lips. The way she pulls back to look him in the eye, so purposeful, so commanding of his attention. She unties the flimsy cord of her robe, letting the entire ensemble fall behind her in a silken heap.
He imagines a dozen faceless men she's done this with before. A dozen faceless men who have looked upon her bare body with their unworthy eyes. He doesn't hate her for it, he couldn't—but he hates them.
A dozen faceless men he'll kill in his dreams.
If he said this out loud she would gently scold him, like she always does. Something along the lines of:
"You'd rather dream of killing any man who has touched me rather than dream of touching me?"
But he knows that if he doesn't kill them, he won't ever get to that second part fairly. Even his fantasies are practical like that.
One thing at a time.
"I wish you would just lose yourself with me already." she sighs, trailing her mouth from his jaw to his ear, " In me ."
He's as still as a statue, letting her defile him like one. She unbuttons his shirt down to his naval, peeling it back until she has access to leave rose colored smudges along his collarbone, until he's stained with it, with her.
When she reaches for his hand, she gasps.
"Jin, you're so cold ."
She brings his wrist to her mouth, pressing a searing kiss to his pulse.
"I love you."
The words tumble clumsily from his mouth. For a terrifying moment he feels like he's in the middle of a free-fall. Gone are the careful plans and waiting for the right moment to tell her.. Instead of backtracking he keeps his gaze steady on hers. There's no lie, no reason to feel ashamed of it.
Her pupils dilate and she drops his hand in surprise, but he raises it back to her lips, wiping a bit of smudged lipstick from the corner of her lips. When she speaks her words graze his thumb.
"What are you doing?"
"The others don't tell you they love you?"
"Sometimes but— but my goodness Jin, they don't mean it and they don't say it before-before we've even—"
The rain pounds unceasingly outside. Before this moment it sounded tranquil, a lovely soundtrack for their evening together. Now it becomes the static filling his head.
"You needed to know," he says simply. "and now you do."
She closes her eyes, taking a long breath that she lets out in a quick, disappointed rush. Her graceful shoulders slumping forward.
Shows over.
"That's why you brought me here-booked me for the entire night. You can't possibly afford to keep doing this." she says, her voice strained. "You'll go broke."
"I took out a loan."
"Oh Jin no."
She reaches for her robe, pulling it over herself, cinching the tie around her waist. The dark waterfall of hair that she let tumble down her back minutes earlier is swiftly gathered into a low, practical knot at her neck.
Other men may have looked upon her naked, but how many men have had her look upon them like this? He drinks in the concern in her eyes, the worry etching itself into her beautiful features.
She stands, gathering up discarded clothes and lacy lingerie torn off during the first act of her performance. It's the nicest ryokan he's ever stayed in. He knew the setting would suit her. It's a shame that they didn't have a chance to use the private outdoor hot spring together. He had looked forward to watching her sink into the hot water with a relaxed sigh. This was supposed to be a gift for her and he's ruining it with his ill-timed confession.
He spent everything he had and then some to pay for it all. He knew he'd tell her tonight. He wasn't sure of the exact moment, but at some point he thought he would just know . Everything would just fall effortlessly into place. In hindsight he realizes how childish this is. There would never be a singular perfect moment but there were countless imperfect ones: he just chose one.
"I've let this go on for too long." she says, sounding tired. "You cannot go into debt just to see me, it doesn't make sense it's not right I—"
It's lingering in the air between them, but he knows better than to ask it of her. He never has. Not once. Not when she broke down to him one evening, telling him about her husband's gambling, their marriage falling apart, feeling trapped. He didn't ask it when she kissed him afterwards, pouring him apologies instead of drinks.
"I'm not usually like this. I don't know why I told you that. I don't usually tell customers about my personal life. "
That, he believed.
That was when he fell in love with her. The vulnerability that tumbled out of her rather than the practiced, careful flattery and flirting. He didn't want the latter; he wanted her to laugh when he said something funny on accident, watch her fall apart beneath him and then into restful sleep afterwards. He wanted to wake up beside her for once.
He stops her when she moves to pass him, he doesn't touch her, only hovers before her.
"Everything I have, everything I am, I leave it in your hands."
The perfect oval of her face finally begins to falter, her lower lip trembling in effort to get the words out.
"If you're leaving it in my hands, then I'll hand it right back. You can't give me everything and leave nothing for yourself."
I'd have you. He should have said. What more do I need?
But he doesn't. He turns to stone again as she finishes rushing through the room, packing up her things. He's not sure when she leaves. Only that he feels her absence like a door left wide open in winter.
True to her word, he's turned away when he goes to visit her again later that week. Even when he goes to buy another woman's time, he's turned away. She must have told them he'd try to find a way back to her.
Much of his life has been an endless slog forward. He has a respectable desk job. He arrives with unfaltering punctuality every morning. Every evening he leaves work at a respectable time (after his boss, not a minute before). He signs birthday cards for people whose names he doesn't know, attends meetings, goes to the mandatory after-work drinking parties where he's never the life of the party. He sits and drinks stoically alone until it's socially acceptable for him to bid everyone goodnight. He goes home to his single room apartment and falls asleep after microwaving his dinner.
Going to a hostess club was supposed to be a new experience to break him from his shell. It was a sort of gift to the men in the office from their new boss who was eager to get on everyone's good side. He hesitated at the invitation, but accepted it on a whim. What else was he doing?
That was the night he met her.
That was months ago. Now banned from the establishment he didn't know where else to go. The club was extremely expensive. He heard talk of it being the best in the country. Taking out a loan was supposed to be a temporary fix during his meetings with her, but it wasn't enough. Especially when he chose the wrong sort of agency to apply for the money. Their hired strong arm was a man close to his own age. Exactly his opposite in both fighting style and appearance. He found he enjoyed sparring with him though. It had been years since he'd taken up his old hobby. He even felt some of his frustration ease.
But he still couldn't shake his desire for her.
He searched for a few clubs nearby more within his salary range. He wasn't looking to find a replacement, only looking to talk to one of the women who worked there. Gain some insight into how they operated, anything to help Shino out of her situation.
He expected the typical hostess fare: tall, seductive, secretive and in the cheaper establishments at least, easy to bribe. That's when he met Fuu who fits none of this criteria.
He recalled, very briefly, seeing her stand outside before handing out fliers. He also recalled being shoved aside by the same man he fought earlier. He felt struck then with a peculiar sense of connection. Fate had a very strange way of bringing people together.
He didn't expect to be drawn to the girl in a similar way that he was to Shino. Not the romantic, all encompassing desire, but rather like being reunited with a close friend's kid sister who had grown up overnight. She seemed almost too young to be there and he felt guilty imagining himself bribing her for information. She was there for work, not to be interrogated. Still, he visited her several times afterwards, if only to make sure she ate something. Not to mention when he saw Mugen's apparent interest in her, Jin felt more like she was his sister. He felt a moral sense of duty, to stick by her.
Just until she doesn't need him, just for a little while longer.
"Oh, come on!"
Fuu's outburst causes a few teenagers playing on machines nearby to edge nervously away from her. She stands in front of a bright pink crane game, biting her lip, deep in concentration. She edges the knob with tiny movements to the left, then right, then left again before hitting the bright red button causing the claw to sink down. One of the arms just barely grazes it.
She pounds the machine in frustration.
Her nose is pressed to the glass, peering in at different angles trying to see exactly where she went wrong. Digging into her pocket, she produces a few more coins and aggressively jams each one into the slot.
Once again the claw dangles over the multicolored mound of stuffed animals. She hits the button watching it dip down, hooking on to one, just barely holding it by the paw. She holds her breath. The claw slowly raises with prize in tow (a puppy holding a bone), wobbling from side to side before it falls back into the pile with a soft bounce.
Just as she's about to scream a string of profanities that will for sure get her kicked out, she hears her name being called.
She sends a scowl at the machine before turning to the street where Yuuka waves her over.
To say that she's been feeling a bit flustered since her last encounter with a certain wild-haired weirdo would be a massive understatement. She returned home that night and rolled restlessly in bed for hours, sending up silent prayers, begging her mother not to judge her too harshly because God he is getting to her.
She lay underneath the covers running her hands over the places he touched her but it was a poor substitute for the real thing. For such a rough guy, he had a shockingly gentle touch. She felt a rush of shame because deep down she wished he had been a little rougher with her. She wants his bites, firm grips, hard edges, hard…
His feather light touches drive her crazy. It was like he dangled something she needed on a string above her, waiting for her to paw at it.
She needs this day off. A day away from the club with its low lighting, mingled clouds of smoke and perfume. She donned a plain t-shirt and shorts, feeling more at ease with the girl in her reflection that morning. Not a hostess, just Fuu.
No maid outfits.
Yuuka chats happily, pointing to various boutiques she wants to stop into after their lunch, a ridiculous amount of charm bracelets clinking on her wrist.
Fuu is eternally grateful for her friend. She needs to be with someone who will understand her right now. She answered Fuu's early morning text asking for a day out and a good venting-session with a string of flower emoticons, agreeing at once.
Yuuka's personality meshes well with her own: bordering on bubbly and a bit naive. Fuu's marks in school were somewhat lackluster (which she personally attributes to a somewhat chaotic home life), but they often earned her a spot in remedial classes. This is where she met Yuuka. She waved her over to the seats in the back, bribing her with smuggled-in sweets. Which is exactly how to win Fuu over.
Yuuka was total flirt then. Always wearing her uniform too tight, skirt pulled too high, getting in trouble for talking to boys or putting on makeup between classes. The fact that she's a hostess now is no surprise: what better job for a chronic flirt.
Now herself, she's still iffy on the whole thing. She can only imagine her other former classmates would balk at the idea. That loudmouth? Aside from one specific customer keeping her on her toes, it's not a bad job really. The late night hours aren't so different from the restaurant. She definitely doesn't mind the extra money.
A few minutes later the two are settled inside a trendy cafe that Yuuka has been raving about. A waiter sets an enormous cup of coffee before her and Yuuka pulls out her phone, which sparkles with a thousand hot pink rhinestones that she meticulously glued there herself, to snap a photo of the swirly heart design etched into the creamy foam before taking a delicate sip.
Fuu tells her that lunch is on her. It was Yuuka who got her the job after all.
"Ahh you're the best! Now, tell me everything."
She gives her a brief rundown of the last week or so. She's been keeping her in the loop as best she can manage through random text messages, but in person it's easier to lay it all out. Yuuka manages to hold back her giggles when she mentions foot-guy again.
Then comes her predicament with Mugen. She braces herself for the conversation.
"Have you ever, how should I put this, um done anything extra, with a customer?"
"Extra?"
"Yeah like, you know…kissing or even more than that?"
Yuuka's expression turns unusually stern.
"Oh my god no. Fuu, that's against the rules."
"O-oh yeah! F-forget I asked then—"
Yuuka then bursts into laughter, slapping the table top, her many charm bracelets on her wrist jingling. She inhales sharply, trying to contain it until she sees Fuu's disapproving expression and then falls to wheezing all over again.
"I'm sorry I had to! I'm kidding of course, let me think hmm…"
Fuu takes a sullen sip of her milk tea, waiting patiently.
"I mean, we've all let a cute customer get away with a little extra." Yuuka says, swirling her spoon in her drink with a dreamy expression, clearly recalling some examples. "It's only natural. Sometimes it just feels right. Sometimes it's because you know if you give them a little extra they'll give you something in return."
"Okay, but, what if I don't really want anything in return? What if I just…"
She trails off. What if she just wants to know what will happen if she lets him carry on with his flirting? Eventually, and not long from now given how quickly he's ramped it up, he's going to cross a line. What happens if she lets him? Should she? As tempting as it sounds, a small part of her worries about getting hurt. Maybe she'll only get hurt if there's feelings involved and since there are none, it'll be okay?
"Do you like him?"
"Well, he's kind of a jerk. And he's impulsive." She thinks of him under the counter, flipping her skirt up and her face goes warm. "Very impulsive. He can be a little grumpy too, but I don't know I'm just sort of…" She waves a hand around vaguely. "Curious ."
"Ahh so he's that type of guy."
"He's a type?" Fuu asks interestedly.
Yuuka nods sagely, leaning forward to speak a little quieter, raising her hand to hide her lips.
"The kind you wanna hate but you also kinda wanna roll around naked with."
Fuu's milk tea nearly bursts from her nose with the force of sudden intake and then violent cough. She scrambles, plucking napkins from a nearby dispenser to clean up the mess, wiping her extremely pink face in the process.
Yuuka watches this, a sly smile on her face as she gives her drink another innocent stir.
"I really hit the mark, didn't I?"
"I-I don't know if I'm ready for any naked rolling." she says with another cough. "Let's start a little slower than that."
"Who is it though? The foot guy?"
"What? No, ew." she exclaims in disgust, thoroughly regretting texting her about the strange man who keeps buying her shoes. Yuuka has been hounding her for a few days now to send him her way to help with her wardrobe. "No it's the other one— my first customer."
"Ohh the one whose boss paid for a few weeks!"
Fuu nods.
"Is he handsome? What is he like?"
"He's a little rough around the edges." Her tone is evasive. She loves Yuuka, but she doesn't quite feel like laying it on thick how attractive she finds him. Especially knowing that he's apparently spent time at the club before. She's not sure she wants to know if they've ever met. "I just feel this crazy urge to just let him do whatever he wants to me."
She says this in a nervous rush, watching Yuuka. She doesn't seem the least bit surprised by this,
"So, what's the problem? Let him."
"Do you think I'll get in trouble? You don't think that would make me look easy?"
Yuuka suppresses a patient sigh and though they're the same age she seems lightyears ahead of her right now.
"Fuu, is that why you're worried? One guy turns you on and suddenly you think you're a slut for wanting him?" her friend shakes her head with a warm smile. "No you're not easy. It's totally natural to want to explore a little bit. As long as Mama-san doesn't catch you and you're not being too obvious, I say go for it. It's only fair, plus you know those guys aren't faithful to anyone."
Fuu's sweet relief comes with a bitter taste at that last part. Of course she shouldn't expect a customer to be faithful to her. It's not like it's a real relationship.
Jin's words come to mind.
"Relationships in these establishments are built on lies."
Maybe he's right. She has no way of knowing if Mugen isn't instantly leaving to go find a woman a little easier than her. A woman who knows what she's doing. Why he's wasting his time on her when she's so inexperienced and plain compared to the other women is a mystery to her…Oh wait, it's because she's pre-paid for. Can't waste something you're getting for free. He probably wouldn't pay for her time with his own money.
"Now if you're worried about where you can mess around, that's easy." she says, oblivious to Fuu's sudden somber attitude. "The real money comes from dates anyway. They'll take you out to dinner, buy you gifts, take you to hotels...It's very hush-hush on the outside but we all know what happens there. Yatsuha has a boyfriend that she met working there. It started with him taking her on these crazy expensive out of town dates. Now she only sees guys in the club. So, I mean, anything is possible if you think about it."
She doubts very much that Mugen would ever be the type to take her out on a date. Despite their first meeting when he tossed money at her face from an enormous wad of bills, he's proven to be extremely cheap. Foot-guy is more generous. Jin too, who always makes sure to order food for her when he visits. That act alone should have had her falling desperately in love with him, but for some reason Mugen won't leave her mind. Her only recourse is to let him have his way with her and maybe some of these crazy urges will settle down some.
"It's too bad I suck at flirting." Fuu says with a sigh. "I can't seduce like Yatsuha can."
Yuuka rolls her eyes. "Yes you can! Whatever he throws at you, just throw right back at him. He might be all talk."
"Mugen? All talk? Probably but probably not when it comes to stuff like this."
Yuuka pauses, as if she's remembering something.
"Your lover-boy, does he work for that guy…I forget his name. He has an eyepatch, greasy hair?"
"Umanosuke?" Fuu says, feeling her stomach lurch uncomfortably. "Yeah, that's his boss."
"If he ever requests you, leave."
No problem Fuu thinks but she still asks: "Why?"
Yuuka's expression becomes uneasy.
"Mama-san always waits outside the doors of the girls he's with. Like she's making sure they're okay or something. Yatsuha always leaves sick when he comes in too. He's just a creep. He tends to like the older girls so I think you should be okay but still, be careful around him."
Fuu takes this warning seriously and thanks her. She remembers the way Mugen went still when he came in, how tense he got. She still can't shake the feeling that he was looking out for her then.
Yuuka gives her a few more tips for, in her words, "gaining new experiences".
Her friend seems to be operating under the assumption that she's going to go out and screw every guy she can. She just wanted a little comfort and reassurance that it's even okay for her to feel this way. She doesn't want to mess around with tons of new people, maybe just the only one who is driving her crazy.
She knows if Mugen ever found out that he was the first man to stir up any sort of desire in her, he'd never shut up about it. It would inflate his ego to catastrophic proportions.
"You should lie about that anyway." Yuuka says when Fuu tells her this. "He'll get jealous if he thinks about you fantasizing about other guys. Better yet: you should tell him you have another customer that you think is cute. It'll drive him nuts. Most customers you want to keep that sort of thing private, but I think this guy might just put more effort into his moves on you, especially if he knows there's competition."
They part ways after a few hours and a long, embarrassing conversation later about hygiene, birth control and positions. Fuu had to wave away Yuuka's enthusiastic offering of Sanrio themed condoms that she kept in her cutesy heart-shaped purse.
She wanders down the street heading towards the arcade she was in earlier, now determined to win her prize with a clear head.
She stops into a 7/11 and is surprised to recognize the stiff typical salaryman uniform and ponytail behind one of the shelves of chips and cookies.
"Fancy meeting you here!" She says with a grin. Jin nods at her over the tops of a row of chips.
"I just got off work. Are you working tonight?"
She shakes her head, gesturing towards the ice cream.
"It's my day off. I just came in for a snack before I hit up the arcade."
"I see."
She has to hold his can of tea and packaged sandwich hostage as she vehemently insists on paying for it, telling the nervous looking cashier that he's not to touch Jin's "dirty" money. Jin himself stands by looking supremely uncomfortable with the gesture, but she sticks her tongue out at him.
"I'm not forgetting your little comment about my precious friendship being a lie." she says teasingly, handing him the bag as the automatic doors slide shut behind them.
"I said the relationships there are built on lies. Not yours specifically."
She digs into her own bag for her blue coconut popsicle, shrugging as she unwraps it.
"Well, either way. You've fed me before so I can treat you this once."
He offers to walk with her, since the station is near the arcade. She agrees and they go together in easy silence. It's nice and comfortingly familiar to be with him like this. Jin's serene aura helps quiet some of her recent moral and mental anguish. The sun begins to set behind the tall buildings surrounding them, the lights of the stores they pass flicker to life.
She looks over at him. She's never seen him dressed casually, even though at the moment he's got the gray jacket of his suit folded neatly over one of his arms. She had a sneaking suspicion he forgot one very important detail in telling her that he just got off work.
"So, I thought you didn't have a job?"
He glances sideways, looking guilty.
"I lied. I work in an office."
"Wow, never would have guessed."
This earns her a small smile.
"I work for a company that produces inks for printers." he clarifies.
"Wow, that's—"
She struggles to think of a nice way to say sorry that sounds really boring. Since he's big on truth-telling, for her anyway, she thinks maybe letting him know just that would be better.
Sensing her thoughts he says, "I'm not passionate about it, but it's a job. I'm grateful for the steady income. I didn't mention it before. I don't like to mix work with…"
"Pleasure?" she supplies, wrinkling her nose at the word. "Well, if you weren't doing that, what would you be doing?"
They stop outside of the arcade and Jin looks contemplative, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
"I'd like to leave the city, perhaps do something out in the countryside."
"You should!" she says with a smile. "Don't let your thrilling job here get in the way."
Jin hesitates before saying quietly.
"It's not the job keeping me here."
"Then what—"
He holds up the bag.
"Thank you for dinner. I have a train to catch."
He gives her a brief bow before turning to leave. She laughs to herself at his abrupt departure. She supposes she should be grateful he told her as much as he did. Most nights he lets her ramble on and keeps quietly to himself.
I'll figure you out eventually, Super Serious Mysterious Jin-san.
She turns to head inside the arcade and drops her bag of snacks.
No way. No no no.
If running into Jin was a pleasant coincidence, this is destiny playing a very cruel joke on her.
Mugen is leaning against the wall outside the arcade smoking, looking like a picture plucked from an afterschool special about staying away from Bad Boys™. Several people passing by give him small, disapproving stares.
He's looking at her in the same incredulous way she feels.
"What the hell are you doin' here?"
She remembers that she's dropped her things when she hears her can of tea rolling across the pavement, a woman passing by has to step over it. Fuu apologizes, scrambling to pick it up, jamming it back inside the bag along with her other snacks. When she looks up he's still watching her.
"I'm just…I bought a snack." she says holding up the plastic bag and mentally slapping herself because that sounds so lame.
"Why were you with four-eyes?"
"Oh he just—" She's about to reassure him that it was a total coincidence when she remembers Yuuka's advice. "-He was worried about me. Yep. I told him I was out walking alone and he came all the way here to see me."
She wonders if the lie is too obvious but Mugen's brows furrow even more, his jaw tight.
"What, you got his number or somethin?"
"Yep!"
"What a loser."
As she looks at him more she notices the disheveled state of his appearance. He has a cut on his lower lip, brand new by the looks of it and another one over his eyebrow. Though his sleeves cover most of his hands, she gets a peek at bright red scuff marks across his knuckles too. Everything from his worn jacket and dusty jeans looks rumpled. Like he rolled out of a particularly violent bed. Even his eyes are tired, looking bloodshot and heavy. She approaches him with a frown.
"Hey did you get in another fight? You have a cut—"
He pushes away her hands as they reach to tilt his face to get a better look.
Unperturbed, she digs into her purse until she finds her small first-aid tin that she keeps stocked with band aids and antiseptic. She sighs, pulling it out and looking up at him in grim determination. Their little back and forth will have to be put on pause.
"Hold still."
He flicks his eyes from the cream in her hand to her face and scoffs.
"I don't need that shit."
She rolls his eyes at his insistence. Why are guys such babies about looking weak?
"It could get infected. What will you do then?"
"M' fine girly." he tries smacking her hands away again, but she points to a bench outside the arcade with a stern expression. If there's one thing she's always taken seriously it's wound care. She hates seeing them exposed to the elements: air pollution, dirt, just begging for an infection.
He throws himself down on the bench, stamping his cigarette out, looking like a defeated martyr while she dowses her hands with fruity-smelling sanitizer.
"What're you, a nurse or somethin'?"
She smiles at this as she bends over him to dab cream around his mouth, wiping off the excess with a sterile cloth she tears from a paper packet. It looks deep but he doesn't even wince when she presses on it. She does the same to the one on his eyebrow, noticing another long healed scar there. In fact, his face is littered with bits of scars and raised, pale colored marks.
"My mom used to say I should be one." She says placing the cap back on the antiseptic, "blood and stuff has never bothered me. I've always felt this weird urge to take care of it. I was even an assistant for the school nurse for most of high school."
She also helped take care of her mother in her final days, but she keeps this to herself. That may be part of why she likes to make sure everyone is taken care of. Watching someone you love waste away, trying to give them dignity in their final days, was like trying to build a sandcastle as the tide slams against the shore.
She secures her smallest band aid over his brow and privately hopes he doesn't look in a mirror anytime soon because the one she used has got a goofy little smiley face on it that contrasts wildly with his grumpy expression. His mouth will heal fine on it's own but she lingers there a second before she realizes just how close they are. Just last night his mouth was on hers. Sometime between then and now he managed to run off and get hurt.
She hops backwards.
"Okay, I think you'll make it."
She knows a 'thank you' is out of the question from him so she goes to leave. Seeing him outside of the context of the club makes her feel off-kilter. Nervous. He hasn't made a single move on her, but given how tired he looks this isn't too surprising. She wonders if he's slept at all between the last time they saw each other.
"You goin' in there?" he jerks his head at the arcade.
"Yeah. Just really quick. There's this stupid machine in there with a toy I want. I tried forever this morning and I couldn't do it."
He cracks his neck, stretching his arms as he stands, looking at her expectantly.
"Alright. Which one?"
She stares at him.
"It's in the big pink one by the door but I don't need help. I can do it by myself."
"Quit bitchin' and show me already."
She sighs, but leads him with uncertainty inside.
"That one." she points to the machine. "The little stuffed puppy, the one with the bone in its mouth. I really don't need help though!" she adds. "Seriously, I'm all set."
He grumbles something to himself, holding out his hand to her until she reluctantly slaps a few coins in his waiting palm.
"It's rigged." she says at once, pressing her face to the other side of the glass to watch his progress. "There's no way you can—a little to the left, to the left!"
She waves her hands to direct him. He pushes his hair from his face, ignoring her.
"I know what I'm doin', now shut it."
She watches his face through the glass as he moves the claw in tiny increments before letting it dip down. To her utter astonishment the claw rises from the pile with her prize, wobbling only slightly as it drops into the box. His first try.
"Easy."
She whoops in surprise, hopping in place.
"You did it! I can't believe it!"
He bends to grab it from the machine and then dangles it above her head with a boyish grin, pulling back when she reaches for it.
"I don't do anything for free girly."
"What do you want then?" she asks, her smile dropping.
He rubs the scruff on his chin in thought.
"Wear that little pink dress tomorrow."
She blinks, surprised and puzzled by such an innocuous request. Oh. Her imagination goes into overdrive, heart fluttering in response. Do I look extra pretty in it or something? He did say his favorite color is pink...
"Okay, that's not so bad I guess."
"But don't wear anything underneath it."
At this wicked caveat she freezes. That dress is tiny. She had to pull it down several times throughout the first night as it rode up her legs all night. Not to mention when she ended up on his lap.
She imagines just how she might end up there again.
"What are you going to do?" she asks carefully. "If I do?"
"Who knows." he says casually, tossing the stuffed animal up in the air a couple times. "Maybe I won't do anything. Might just wanna watch you squirm a little."
"If that's the case then I'm not doing it." she pouts, giving up trying to grab the stuffed animal from his hands.
"Oh, so you'd want me to do something?"
A hot blush creeps into her cheeks. She walked right into that one.
"Don't worry. I know you won't do it. I just wanted to see you get all freaked out. You're too damn easy."
She swallows. Feeling a pleasant tingly bit of heat all over her body that over takes the simmering annoyance with him. There's no shame in playing along. She thinks. Yuuka says it's okay. No harm in throwing it right back in his smug face.
"No, I'll do it!" she says cheerfully. "In fact, I think it'll be good for business!"
The stuffed dog hits his head and bounces to the ground, he bends to pick it up, his mouth going slack.
"Whaddya' mean?"
"Well, you'll be the last one to see me in it. You're always booked at the end of the night." she explains, sounding innocent, "so I'll get to spend the whole night with a lot of other guys dressed like that too. It's really short so…Who knows what'll happen."
Satisfied by the dumbfounded look on his face, she plucks the stuffed dog from his frozen hands while he stares at her in a stunned stupor.
"See ya' tomorrow!" she skips away feeling giddy and most importantly: triumphant.
