Happy holidays, all. Sorry for the late update v.v Here's a longer-than-usual chapter to kind of make up for that? Heh.

—Price of Freedom—

Miku couldn't express how glad she was that Luka had trusted her. That joviality manifested by way of a skip in her stride as she made her way to their agreed meeting spot.

Her daily routine, her way of thinking, and even her patterns of speech had been completely overturned in the few months she had known Luka. Any free moment she had, sometimes while on the clock, was given to the pink-haired girl. There wasn't a moment when she *wasn't* thinking about Luka, though in what capacity tended to vary. Sometimes, she was appalled by the raw want she experienced for the pop star and she tamped it down before blue eyes could notice and regard her with disgust. Luka wasn't like her, and it was for that reason she had curbed her frankness when the topic of physical intimacy arose. Even though there wasn't a title for... whatever it was they were, she felt it wasn't appropriate to breach the topic-especially when it clearly upset the other girl.

Something warm stirred beneath Miku's breast when she spotted Luka in the distance. She'd literally done everything in her power to ensure the pop star hadn't been found out when they were together and as such, this seemed like a very bad idea. This wasn't the first time she'd been invited to Luka's place by a long shot, but this was the first time she'd acquiesced. The hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end and she glanced around surreptitiously for any sign of a camera or other recording device, but Luka seemed unconcerned standing there in the open.

Miku wasn't sure if that was bravery or foolishness. Luka herself had explained how poorly things would end for her if the press found out she spent her time in the company of... Someone like Miku, but she refused to even consider stopping their meetings. In fact, their outings had become so frequent that Lloyd had started singing childish songs under his breath any time he saw her "start to check her watch obsessively" when it was almost time to go and meet Luka. Apparently that was something she did now.

The moment Luka was in range, she swept the girl into a hug. She lost herself in the softness of pale flesh and the sweet smell of the perfume that lingered about the hollow of Luka's throat before catching herself and placing some distance between them. Miku cleared her throat and offered a shy smile, which was reciprocated with radiant beauty by the idol. "Hey, you."

No matter how many times she saw the pop star, she was somehow caught off-guard by just how lovely Luka was. Her gaze wandered from brilliant blue eyes and down to full pink lips, where they lingered. Was that what people referred to as being "star struck"?

"Hey yourself."

As they made their way up the drive, towards the massive glass building, Miku was struck by just how meaningful this visit was. Avid fans would have killed for the chance to enter the talented popstar's home and having done a bit of research, she knew close relationships were few and far between for Luka. Miku lingered in the entryway, managing to stop herself from asking, for the fifth time, "are you sure this is okay?" Luka caught her hand and tugged her forward, shutting the door behind them.

"Welcome to my home," the pop star said simply.

She gave Miku a moment to take it all in and the green-haired woman gawked openly. The place was lavish, all glass and clean modern lines, but there was a distinct lack of Luka to it. Then again it was understandable considering she only lived here three months out of the year, according to extensive analyzing of her tour schedule by fans.

It had felt a little unfair to have the advantage of so many sources when it came to the subject of the other girl, so Miku deigned to be an open book when it came to any personal questions Luka might have.

A mewl pulled her from her musings and the girl stooped to pet the cats that wound themselves around her ankles, demanding attention. So these were the two cuties she had heard so much about. The blonde cat, Lan, head-butted her hand when she shifted her attention to Luka.

Luka's expression was one of surprise. "They like you."

She said it as though that was wholly unexpected and Miku feigned hurt. "Am I really that unlikeable?"

Luka shook her head. "They're not a fan of my manager, and he stops by at least once a week. They barely tolerate Eric, the chef, and only when they're hungry."

Curious. Miku scratched both cats between the ears, taking care to give them equal attention lest they squabble. "Your house is gorgeous."

Luka made a noncommittal sound. "It's a bit much, but appearances are everything in my industry."

Miku could sympathize with that sentiment. The cats gave a sound of protest when she straightened to follow Luka through a tour of the house. By the time they came to a short hallway at the end of which was a closed door, she couldn't tell you how she had gotten there or how to get back to the foyer.

It occurred to Miku that the house was entirely still and quiet and, upon asking Luka about it, she received a lopsided smile. "I gave the staff the day off."

So they were alone.

Miku's heartbeat sped up and she distracted herself from her less than innocent thoughts by looking around this room with interest. Luka's bedroom. Again, Luka gave her a moment to take it all in, but this time there was nervousness to the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. What did she have to be anxious about? The brothel affected an air of richness and sophistication, but Luka's place was the real deal.

This room was very Luka. The wall were a pale blue and the high ceiling was decorated with a colourful mural depicting some of the places Luka had visited during her tours. The pop star was quite the traveler. The furniture wasn't quite as posh as the less utilized pieces outside and Miku hid a smile behind her hand at a monstrous oversized chair that doubled as a bookshelf for the books that didn't fit in the actual bookshelf. Many of the titles, unexpectedly, were romances.
She met Luka's shy gaze and grinned. That seemed to dispel the tension that squared the popstar's shoulders and she went over to a mini fridge set in a kitchenette beneath an enourmous flat screen.

"Make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure..."

The only place to sit was the bed sitting innocuously beneath a window overlooking the city. Despite the setting of previous meetings, Miku felt at once excited and guilty to wrinkle pristine lavender sheets and she perched at the edge of the bed. Luka came over and handed her a beverage. Her expression was bemused, noting the distance between them, and she patted the spot next to her.

Miku moved to join her, hyper conscious of the way their thighs touched. It felt... Wrong being here. Like she didn't belong. For the first time she could remember, Miku felt ashamed of her profession and she worried that she wasn't good enough for Luka. The lights dimmed and a movie started, but Miku scarcely noticed. A slender hand grasped hers, their fingers entwining, and that pang of guilt became impossible to ignore.

"Luka," Miku said.

"Mm?"

Miku worried her bottom lip with her teeth, heat rising to her cheeks. Why was she getting so worked up anyway? Where was this sudden doubt coming from when Luka was giving her no reason to feel this way in the first place? In fact, Luka looked more at ease than Miku could remember ever seen her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." She had the pop star's full attention, her unusual lack of directness causing Luka to frown uncertainly. "Is something wrong?"

Now Miku wasn't sure how to voice her niggling doubt. She settled for, "May I kiss you?"

Luka's frown softened and, wordlessly, she cupped Miku's cheek with her free hand, leaned in, and kissed Miku.

"Why me?" Miku murmured against Luka's lips, a pleased sound leaving her at the raw emotion she felt behind the simple contact.

"It feels right." Luka lifted their joined hands to her chest, and Miku felt the way the pop star's heart was beating against the back of her hand. The tempo was strong and somewhat rushed, and it mirrored her own.

It did feel right—that was undeniable. Miku was no stranger to intimacy and physical contact, but she'd never found such contentment in so simple and action as holding hands. With a soft sigh she reclined, resting her head on Luka's shoulder. Their bodies moulded together perfectly. Miku soon found she couldn't focus on what was happening on screen, her attention drawn to the way Luka's lips curved into a smile and parted to laugh, and how impossibly gorgeous she was in the low light.

Miku's mind caught up to her body only after she had entwined her fingers in long pink hair, her lips hovering centimeters from Luka's. She held the girl there, her breathing quickened with excitement, and when Luka didn't show any signs of resistance, she kissed the pop star soundly. Their tongues danced, hands roaming with the unhurried ease of familiar lovers, and Miku slipped her hand under the hem of Luka's shirt to touch soft swells of flesh that had yet to be explored.

Neither remembered much of the movie after that point on.

…

"This is for you," Luka said, leaning over the side of her bed and fetching something from the nightstand.

"What's this?" Miku asked distractedly, her gaze on the full curve of Luka's rear. Her fingers twitched as she resisted the urge to grasp Luka's hips and bring the pop star back against her. It was getting more and more difficult to resist urges like that.

Luka gestured vaguely. "It's for you," she repeated.

Miku's fingers trembled as she undid the pink ribbon keeping the plain white envelope shut. It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at. "A backstage pass?"
And under it... a plane ticket to Europe.

Miku blinked, uncertain of how to respond to such a generous gift.

Blue eyes were shining hopefully. "Will you come?"

In light of what they'd just been doing the question seemed loaded, but Miku waved away her overactive imagination. "I... Can't." She hated the way the pink haired girl's face fell, but knew there was no other answer to give. "I've been behind this month. I've got to roll up my sleeves and get my hands dirty if I hope to make quota."

Miku tried to make light of it, but she noticed the way Luka's face darkened before she could reign the expression in for a more neutral one. Wordlessly, she threaded their fingers together and kissed the back of Luka's hand.

"What if I talk to him—"

"Don't." She was drawing attention to herself, and Miku was already having trouble deflecting the man's increasingly frequent interrogations. It was only a matter of time before he started doing his own research and found out more than Miku wanted him to know. "Promise me you won't, Luka."

Full lips parted, as if in protest, then thinned into a line. She nodded slightly.

'I'm sorry.' She closed the distance between them again, pouring her regret into a simple meeting of lips. She was taken aback by the ardor with which Luka returned the kiss, but the niggling concern at the back of her mind was pushed aside by desire.

"Where were we?"

Luka caught the hand that strayed too low, bringing it up to her lips. "Next time," she promised, gaze smoldering as she kissed Miku's knuckles.

"I'll hold you to that," Miku croaked. She'd never wanted anyone more, but there was something else there as well. Something she wasn't quite sure how to handle.

...

Miku wasn't thrilled to be back at the brothel, but she knew it was a necessary evil. There was a nightly attendance check and failure to maintain curfew wasn't something she could risk considering her current standing with her boss.

She skipped dinner in favour of showering, intending to rinse the lingering scent of Luka from her skin. Some time later, she was laying in bed, shifting fitfully while trying to force herself to relax and go to sleep. A glance at her nightstand confirmed that it was well past a respectable hour to call. Her finger hovered over the green dial button then, she tapped it.

Luka answered on the first ring. (Miku?)

"Hey... Sorry to call so late."

(Is everything okay?) her tone was concerned, lacking any trace of annoyance, despite the late hour, and Miku smiled.

"I couldn't sleep."

There was a soft, relieved exhale. (Me neither.)

Miku imagined Luka was curled up in bed with her cats dozing at her feet and the thought made her smile wider. Part of her wished she could be there. "Is something on your mind?"

(What makes you think something's on my mind?)

"I know you pretty well by now. You can't sleep when there's too much on your mind.

Luka laughed softly. (You've got me.)

"Would you like to talk about it?"

(You first.)

Miku worried her bottom lip with her teeth. It was a bad, recent habit. When she took too long to answer, Luka questioned her and she admitted quietly, "I miss you."

She could hear Luka moving around. Her voice sounded strange when she said, (I miss you, too...)

Ba-bump. "I could come see you in the morning. My first appointment isn't until after noon."

(You can't,) Luka said quickly.

"Why?"

(I won't be here.)

"Oh. Busy day?"

(Mhm.)

Her reticence to divulge information was making Miku's stomach clench anxiously. "Luka, what's going on?"

There was a soft sigh. (I'm leaving for Europe tomorrow in preparation for my concert.)

"Tomorrow," she repeated faintly. Her racing heart missed a beat, then redoubled its pace.

(Yes. In the morning.)

"That's so soon..."

(Production likes to be there early to make press appearances and get me acclimated to the area. I've been to Europe before, of course, but never this area.)

"Oh..." A heavy silence stretched between them, longer than was comfortable, and Miku began to pick at her comforter. Her heart was trying its best to hammer its way out of her chest and there was a tightness in her throat that made her afraid to say anything more.

(Miku?)

"Why didn't you tell me?"

(I'm sorry. I just... After I invited you to come with me and you said no, I didn't want today to feel like goodbye.)

And this was better? Why would she have let Miku think that today was just like any other only to drop this bombshell mere hours before she was going to leave?

"... How long?"

(A few months.) She said it so quietly Miku had to strain to hear her. (It depends on my reception.)

Luka couldn't leave. Not when things between them were going so well. Luka couldn't make her feel so content—so whole—only to whisk that away with her to Europe. A month seemed like a very long time, though the last four had flown by in Luka's presence.

"I have to go," Miku choked out around the lump in her throat. Fleeing was the best option to deal with the feelings roiling beneath her breast.

She hung up, but not before hearing Luka's murmured apology.

"I'm sorry..."

...

Miku cancelled all of her appointments, consequences be damned. She kept to herself for the most part, and Kisame was an unexpected ally in helping her maintain the wall she'd constructed around herself. When she did speak with the others, she was short, her only objective to get back to her room as quickly as possible. When she eventually had to go back to work, she was unenthused and lethargic and even some of her regulars stopped asking for her.

Lloyd joked that she was suffering from heartbreak and got a tongue lashing as a result. Kisame respected her space and no one else dared or cared to ask what was wrong, so Miku got the solitude she wanted, even when it became unbearable.

Two weeks dragged by in this fashion.

"This is for you," Lloyd said, stopping Miku at the desk on her way to the elevator. This was the first time he'd tried to talk to her since Miku had snapped at him. He had no way of knowing that exact phrasing would set her off, but it did and, though she immediately felt guilty afterwards, she couldn't keep from scowling at the man. "Whoa, what's been eating you?"

"Nothing. What is this?"

"Dunno. It just came in this morning."

Miku turned the envelope over in her hands, but doing so didn't reveal its origins or what was within its card stock casing. A small mark caught her attention and before she could dismiss it, she recognized the outline of a shape and froze: a musical note. "Thanks," she said, forcing her voice level.

"Haven't seen the Kid in a while," Lloyd began conversationally, before she could escape to her room. Miku could feel his eyes on her.

"Guess she no longer needed our services." She hadn't meant to sound so bitter, but the petulant note hung in the air between them.

"Our?" he repeated. "Let's be honest: she only ever came to see you."

Miku shrugged, but offered no comment. She turned yet a third time to head upstairs, but Lloyd stopped her.

"What do you want?"

His tone was careful. "Did something happen?"

"No."

"Then why the temper tantrum?"

"It's not a—" She trailed off at his expression and sighed. "She left, okay? She's all the way in Europe, and I'm here."

"So go there." He said it as though it was the obvious solution. Maybe it was.

"I can't just leave like that and you know it."

"Who are you trying to convince-me or you?

Miku bid Lloyd farewell and resumed her trek upstairs, the thick envelope tucked under her arm. She wasn't ready to read it—not yet.