Twinkle, Twinkle
Shizuru tilted her head back, her blue-tinted shades catching the neon glow of Ikebukuro's restless night. The sky, as usual, was an expanse of black - no clouds, no depth, just a void stretched over the city. People rarely looked up. Why would they? The real spectacle lay in the chaos below: flashing billboards, shifting crowds, the hum of life at every corner.
She hadn't given it much thought either. Not until now, in a moment of absentminded staring. Tiny white specks flickered in and out of sight, slipping away the moment her gaze shifted. When she refocused, new ones had taken their place, scattered and faint. Hardly enough to be called a starry sky.
There was a word for this. Something she'd read before. Light contamination? No… light pollution. That was it. In places like this, the city's glow drowned out the stars, stealing their sharpness until they blurred into nothing.
The first time she learned about it, it had struck her as strange - like knowing there was a whole world overhead that she'd never really see. Then again, Ikebukuro was too damn bright. If something wasn't visible, people just stopped thinking about it.
Her neck ached from the angle, but she kept looking. The few glimmers above stirred something in her, an elusive thought just out of reach. It hovered at the edge of her mind, refusing to take shape, no clearer even as the minutes passed.
"…Ah, Tanaka-san, how do I put this?" Kimura's voice wavered, all strained politeness. "I've found myself in a bit of a financial dilemma. Rent's due, food isn't cheap… I can barely keep up."
Something about the countryside. No, not quite. Or maybe…?
"I swear I've been trying to get the money together, but finding a gig is tough these days. I want to pay you back, really. But, you know… life expenses."
Countryside. Stars. Something about the number of stars. The thought dangled just out of reach, slipping further every time Kimura's voice scraped against her nerves.
Hard to think.
Hard to think.
Hard to fucking think with this bastard whining in her ear.
Shizuru lowered her gaze.
"My business is important too, Kimura," Tom said, jabbing a finger at him. "I'm trying to cut you some slack, but bread doesn't put itself on my table. Look, I'm not saying it was a dumb decision, but did you think before racking up a debt you can't pay?"
Of course he didn't.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Tanaka-san."
A fancier way of saying I didn't want to work my ass off like a normal person. Annoying. Annoying.
Kimura sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Job market's tough. Hard for broken goods like me to land a high-salary gig overnight. Not all of us are lucky enough to make a living off collecting other people's debts."
Tom exhaled sharply, planting a hand on his hip as if bracing for patience. Shizuru mirrored him, clenching her teeth to stifle the simmering irritation.
"I don't know whether that was an insult or a compliment, and honestly? I don't care." He leveled Kimura with a flat stare. "Another deadline missed. No more promises. Keep your word next time. It's late, and I want to sleep."
"Like I said, I can't pull that off so quickly… Did I mention I've got a little brother to take care of? Another mouth to feed besides mine. You're asking too much from a poor man, Tanaka-san…"
Brother. Stars. Something about the countryside and her little brother. But the thought refused to take shape, lingering just beyond reach.
Annoying. Annoying. Annoying.
Shizuru's gaze flicked toward Kimura. Patchy beard, bloodshot eyes, hair that hadn't seen a brush in days. His clothes—stained, frayed—carried the scent of neglect. He looked as shady as the apartment he lived in, and just as miserable.
Then again, people who borrowed money usually weren't lounging in penthouses. That didn't make this conversation any easier to stomach. It didn't make loitering in this godforsaken place any more tolerable. Worst of all, she still couldn't pin down that thought gnawing at the back of her mind.
Stars. Countryside. Brother.
Nothing.
God fucking dammit.
Shizuru stayed silent. Tom carried on, yawning between words, his tone edged with impatience. One twitchy finger toyed with the hem of her black skirt as her eyes drifted over the smudged walls. The paint was peeling, flaking away bit by bit - kissed off by time and neglect. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to convince herself that the cracks in her vision belonged to the room, not to her own composure splintering at the edges.
Then Kimura's voice cut through the thick air.
"Huh…? Now that I think about it… who's this pretty lady, Tanaka?" His lips curled into something that tried to be a grin. "Your girlfriend? Damn, that's disappointing. You shouldn't bring your partner to these kinds of dealings."
Tom let out a quiet chuckle.
"No, we're not a couple. I don't think an everyman like me could handle her," he said, voice light but deliberate. "She works for me. You mean to tell me you've never heard of Shizuru Heiwajima? Not even as idle gossip? She's a big name in Ikebukuro."
Kimura's gaze dragged over Shizuru, slow and lingering. Curiosity flickered in his beady eyes, but it didn't take long for something uglier to settle in - something hungry. He liked what he saw. And that alone proved he had no damn clue who he was dealing with.
"Can't say the name rings any bells," he mused. "Which is weird. I'd definitely remember a woman this cute."
Silence. The kind that shouldn't be broken.
"Dresses funny, too," Kimura went on, unfazed. "What is she, some kind of cosplayer?"
Shizuru's hand twitched. So did her shoulders. Her thumb and index finger tugged at the hem of her skirt, the fabric straining under the pressure.
Tom exhaled through his nose. "That's just her uniform. I wouldn't call it cosplay." A beat. "For your sake."
Kimura blinked. Then, he laughed.
"Oh, come on, now. You almost had me nervous for a second." His voice took on a mocking lilt, as if indulging a child. "Listen, Heiwajima-chan, here's some adult advice: you look young. Fragile. If you wanna play dress-up, maybe find a safer place, yeah? I don't know what business you have with Tanaka-san, but sticking with him will get you in trouble." He wagged a finger, grinning. "There are meeeean people in Ikebukuro."
Then, without a second thought, he plopped one meaty, sweat-slicked hand onto her head and stroked her hair.
Tom sighed. He might have taken a step back. Maybe two. Shizuru couldn't tell. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out everything else. Heat rushed to her head, seeping into every muscle. Her jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
"Take. It. Off."
The words came through gritted teeth, each syllable more growl than speech.
Kimura smirked. Smug. Oblivious.
"Take what off, Heiwajima-chan?"
That was it.
"Take your fucking hand off me."
She didn't give him time to regret his mistake.
Her fist had already formed, her arm snapping upward with blinding speed. Knuckles slammed into Kimura's elbow joint. Something cracked. No resistance. It reminded her of shattering cookies into dust.
His arm exploded.
Bone tore through flesh, piercing outward in jagged white splinters. A mess of blood, nerves, and exposed marrow. Red splattered his face, speckled her shades.
"A-Ah…"
A gasp. The start of a word swallowed by pain and confusion.
Shizuru stepped in. Seized his head. Her fingers twisted over greasy skin, digging in like rubber stretched too tight.
She tilted his skull one way. Then drove it the other.
Kimura's face collided with the doorframe. Wood snapped in half. The wall cracked from the force, blood painting fresh streaks across its surface. Teeth scattered.
More splinters. More blood. More silence.
Shizuru twitched violently.
"You motherfucker…!" she growled, breath ragged. "Next time—"
She wrenched Kimura from the doorframe. His face peeled away with a sickening sound, strings of blood and spit stretching between his skin and the splintered wood. He let out a broken groan, tears slipping from swollen eyes.
"—Pay—"
She slammed him back into the frame.
"—Your—"
Again.
"—Debts!"
And again.
The final blow came as a brutal kick to his chest. Kimura, battered and barely conscious, flew backward into his apartment, crashing against unseen furniture. The sharp clatter of breaking objects followed, then silence.
Shizuru stood there, breathing hard, every inhale scraping against her throat. It took nearly a minute to steady herself, though her hands remained curled into trembling fists.
Tom ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slow.
"…Well, I guess that's that."
He reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Without a word, he held it out. Shizuru took it with a shaky grip, swiping the blood from her shades, then her face.
Tom peered into the wreckage of Kimura's apartment before turning away.
"Let's get going. I know it's late, but how about a smoke before heading home?"
Shizuru didn't answer right away. She muttered a few low curses, clicked her tongue, then straightened her back.
"Fine."
A chill settled over the city, sharper now that night had swallowed the rusted hues of sunset. The sky stretched vast and empty, a deep bluish-black expanse where fleeting stars flickered before vanishing into the cosmic void.
Beneath that quiet, unknowable firmament, Ikebukuro pulsed with restless energy.
Shops flaunted their wares behind gaudy, over-decorated displays. The streets, slick with humidity, trembled under the ceaseless tide of passing cars. Neon signs bled color into the dark, dissolving the shadows that streetlights failed to reach.
People shouted, sang. Cars honked, brakes screeched. Music drifted through the air - soft and private from phone speakers, louder and heavier from behind club doors. It was a city that never slept, bright as day but steeped in something darker.
Shizuru and Tom lingered outside Russia Sushi, cigarettes in hand. The glow of their embers flickered in rhythm with the neon haze. A few feet away, Simon, the restaurant's ever-enthusiastic worker, preached about sushi as though it were divine sustenance.
"Come on, eat sushi! Sushi is good for you! Every day, any day!"
Tom tuned him out, watching Shizuru instead.
"I know it's not my place to ask," he started, exhaling smoke. "But I'll give it to you straight. Something bothering you lately?"
Shizuru took a slow drag, held it, then released the smoke in a soft, almost thoughtful breath.
Tom had always found it strange—not in a sexist way, just strange—how someone like her could hit as hard as she did. She was short, shorter than most of the guys, and when she wasn't breaking bones, there was something undeniably feminine about her. Her bleached-blonde hair and ever-present blue shades lent that femininity a sharp, thuggish edge, but the crisp lines of her barmaid uniform refined it back into something almost professional.
As professional as overloading hospital ICUs was, anyway.
But here—just standing there, cigarette in hand, staring at nothing—Shizuru seemed almost serene. Beautiful, even. Tom had seen her like this before, back in high school, when he'd mistaken her for a quiet, reserved girl. In a way, she was. That was the strange part. For all her raw violence, she was surprisingly honest.
That's why he asked.
After a moment, she tilted her head slightly, just enough for him to notice.
"Tom-san," she murmured, idly adjusting her bowtie. "What do you think about the stars?"
Tom hesitated, pressing his cigarette against his lips but not inhaling.
"Stars? You mean, like, movie stars? Pop stars? Someone famous?"
She shook her head. Then, without a word, she pointed her cigarette skyward.
"Stars."
Tom followed her gaze.
Nothing. Just an expanse of murky black, thick with pollution. The sky had an ugly texture to it, like a smudged painting - foggy, blurred at the edges.
"Ah. Those," he said, feeling a bit lost. "I can't see them."
Shizuru let out a quiet huff of agreement. "Me neither."
Something clicked in Tom's head. A proverbial lightbulb flickered on. He gave his cigarette a flick, chuckling.
"So that's what's got you in a mood?"
She took another slow drag. Her fingers still played with her bowtie.
"No."
A minute passed. Simon kept calling out about sushi, his voice cutting through the restless city noise. Tom exhaled another thin stream of smoke, waiting.
Then—
"What do you usually do at night, Tom-san?"
The question caught him off guard. Out of context, it almost sounded like she was prying into his less-than-reputable nighttime activities - maybe an arcade, maybe a brothel, maybe something else entirely. But the mention of stars lingered in his mind. He hummed, connecting the dots.
"You…" He rolled the words on his tongue, making sure they fit. "You want to know what to do at night? With the stars? And such?"
Shizuru turned to him so fast he nearly flinched.
He held his ground, watching. Her eyes were hidden behind her shades, but he knew she was listening.
He'd found the thread.
So he pulled.
"Well, I'm not exactly the kind of guy who looks up. Too much business in front of me." Tom exhaled smoke, watching it curl into the night air. "But," he added quickly, not wanting to test Shizuru's patience, "I know some people who like to sketch out the night sky. You could try that. Maybe learn how to draw?"
"No."
Her voice was sharp, but not angry - just focused. She waved her hand at him, a silent Keep going.
"Aha. Okay…" Tom took another drag, thinking. "Constellations, then? Some people are big into astrology. They map out the stars, divine their future, read their luck—"
"No."
Shizuru flicked her cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot. Tom tensed. That was usually her universal I'm-about-to-kill-someone sign. But she didn't move. She just stared at him.
One hand still fidgeted with her bowtie. The other twitched at her side, fingers curling and uncurling.
Tom swallowed, choosing his next words carefully.
Not because he was afraid. He trusted Shizuru. She was equal parts employee and friend, and she never hurt her friends. Not that he knew of, anyway.
No, this was different.
She looked… interested. Not furious. Not bored. Interested.
And Tom, for once, didn't want to screw this up.
He racked his brain for an answer - something that made sense, something she wouldn't immediately shoot down. Then, the simplest thought came to him. Almost too simple. But it was all he had.
"…I guess some people just enjoy looking at the stars." He shrugged. "Stargazing, you know."
"That's it!"
Tom nearly jumped.
Shizuru never raised her voice unless things were bad.
Before he could react, she turned - and suddenly, he was airborne.
She'd lifted him clean off the ground, squeezing him in a hug, shaking him slightly like a ragdoll.
"Thanks, Tom-san!" she said, voice muffled against his shirt. "Thank you very much!"
After a moment, she set him down. Tom tried to catch his breath but ended up coughing.
He blinked at her.
She was smiling.
Not smirking. Not sneering. Not grinning with a predator's edge. Smiling.
Even with her shades hiding her eyes, the way her face softened… it was almost surreal. So much so that Tom briefly wondered if he was dreaming.
Shizuru didn't smile.
A strange feeling settled in his chest. Maybe it was the fact that, for once, he'd seen her genuinely happy. Maybe it was the growing ache in his back from her bear hug. He wasn't sure.
"I have to go now, Tom-san," she said. The smile faded, but the energy remained in her voice. "See you tomorrow. And thanks again!"
And just like that, she turned and skipped away.
Tom watched her go, still trying to process what had just happened.
Shizuru never skipped.
She never smiled like that, either. Not the kind that wasn't laced with sarcasm or barely-there amusement. But tonight, she had. And for whatever reason, that made something settle in his chest - a quiet sort of satisfaction, like he'd done something right without entirely knowing what.
He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, letting the moment sink in.
"Sushi! Sushi is good for your bones and your heart! Sushi fixes the problems in life!"
Simon's voice snapped him back to reality. Tom turned, watching the big man continue his enthusiastic sales pitch. The sheer earnestness of it almost made him laugh.
He glanced at the cigarette in his hand, then flicked it away with a smirk.
"I could do with some sushi."
And with that, he followed the scent of grilled fish and warm rice, letting the night carry on.