They were only at the third bar, he thought, but they were already starting to blur - a possible effect of the tequilas on rock Karen kept insisting on serving him at each new club - and the beautiful Chinese hostess girl's hands (or was it a boy ? He forgot already if this was one of the cross dressing bar or not) seemed to persist in creeping up his tights no matter how many times he pushed them away, while the other hostess on his left (a western girl from one of those exotic eastern countries with impressive blond hair to go with her impressively short golden outfit) made giggly sounds, rapid blast of foreign phrases from which he could only understand the repeated 'kawai !' and played with his hair with her long sharp red nails; and he definitely had never been so uncomfortable before in his life. His smile stretched so much it hurt.
In his mind, there was a little video game where all the girls he met tonight had kicked the hell out of every monks living or historical from the Kouya monastery. High heel Kung Fu... there was nothing use against it.
Desperately, he attempted a look across the table to Karen, but Karen merely smiled at him, not bothering to stop her apparently passionate conversation with the third hostess girl at their table.
That's it. He couldn't take it anymore.
Sorata painfully extricated himself from the limbs of the two girls, mumbling some vague apologies, and shambled out of the club.
When he finally got out in the cold hair, he let himself fall in the fresh snow and took a deep breath, waiting for the world to stop turning around him and settle in a stable environment once more.
"What is wrong, Sora-chan ?"
He opened his eye to gauge suspiciously at Karen.
"I give up Karen-san. I am not going inside this lion's den again."
Karen winked impishly at him.
"Does that mean you think you understood why Arashi-san gets so often mad at you when you surround her with too much attention ?"
