I stuffed the dead laptop into my bag, shoving the flash drive deep in the front pocket. "It's just a walk down the street Kaito, nothing can happen." I mumbled to myself, taking consecutive breaths in and out.
My heartbeat literally drummed in my ears and the only thing that could calm me, was music. I slid my headphones on, thumbed the volume to max, and hit play.
The opening chords of Toshinobu Kubota's La La La Love Song filled my head, the jazz R&B rolling over my nerves. This was my favorite jam of all time. No demon, no spirit, no cursed neighborhood could touch me when I had Kubota crooning in my ears.
I slung the bag over my shoulder, drew a long breath, and pushed through the glass doors of my office, steadily walking through the darkened hallway. My only source of sight was from my phone torchlight. As soon as I hit the exit, the emptiness in the night struck so low. A shiver ripped through my spine like something was watching me and I instinctively turned around to meet nobody.
"Sex demoness, I ain't going to be afraid bruh!" I swore I heard my name with many steps taken forward and to the right as I kept my steps on the pavement heading to the alley. I clenched my jaw, shaking my head hard, and yelled inwardly and increasing the volume to the maximum.
I can't hear you!
******
Now I was in front of the glitching neon sign above a tiny khaki shop, Okada Electronics and repairs. I felt so relieved that I plopped down the right side of my headphones to my neck level and left the left on.
I hurried up, rapped three sharp knocks against the metal door. My reflection jittered in the glass. There was a scrape of bolts and nuts noise, a grunt, and the door creaked open. A middle-aged man with a hunched back peered out, glasses slipping down his nose, his work apron stained with grease and dust.
"Kaito," he rasped, lips curving into a grin, "you're surprisingly early today. What's up, my man?"
I let out a nervous laugh, tugging at the strap of my bag. "Early? It's two in the morning."
"Exactly!" He tapped his temple with a greased black engine oil finger. "That's my early morning. Prime fixing hours, baby. You young people call it the witching hour—I call it overtime with extra cash." He chuckled, shoulders bobbing under his hunched frame, before stepping aside.
"Come in, come in. Don't just stand there before they smell you." The way he said it like a joke made my organs crawl to the surface. I didn't ask who or what he meant. Instead, I ducked inside, shutting the metal door behind me.
The khaki shop smelled of solder, burned plastic, and stale cigarettes. Piles of radios, old motherboards, and busted TVs leaned against the walls and the only light switched on was a small yellow bulb. "To conserve energy Yoh. Energy conservation is mad, you should understand this since you are in the tech industry."
I nodded and played along, scrambling awkwardly over the pieces. I unzipped my bag and slid the laptop and flashdrive out onto the counter.
"A busted laptop? Corrupted laptop? Virus? What challenge did you bring for me?"
"Nothing much dude, I just need a place to charge and it's very important. I have a game launching event tomorrow by 8am, haven't showered nor had a good sleep. I was about copying my game to my drive when it shut down. How much for a charge?"
Okada slipped the rusty goggles off his forehead and set them carefully on the counter. He wiped his hands on his apron, then pointed a stiff finger toward a crumpled chart taped unevenly to the wall.
"Charge per hour is twenty-five yen," he said flatly. His finger tapped against the line of text highlighted in faded red ink. "Between two a.m. and four a.m., the rate stays the same. After that, discount."
I followed his gesture, scanning the chart. It looked like the kind of sign that had been hanging there for years without anyone bothering to take it down. I exhaled and rubbed the back of my neck. "I don't have cash with me, bruh. Can I use my credit card or maybe transfer?"
Okada turned slowly, his face unreadable behind the smudged lenses of his glasses. For a moment he just looked at me, then at the counter, as if weighing the question itself. "No," he said finally. "Cash only. You youngsters have a way of scamming me when you make fake transfer. Fixed a PS5 for a man and he duped me of my hardwork. So no cash, nothing!"
My throat tightened. "But we are friends bruh, I come here to have my launch and use your gaming console. At least pity me, you don't have a card reader?"
He shook his head once, deliberate. "I don't keep those here. Too many problems. Too easy to be hacked. Too much risk when being robbed."
I shifted my butt on the chair, tapping my fingers against the counter. "Then what do we do? I really need this charged tonight."
Okada leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice though the shop was empty. "Then you'll need to owe me. Leave something behind if you can't pay now. Something I can trust you'll come back for."
His eyes flicked to my bag, then to the flash drive lying next to the laptop. "How about your flashdrive?"
"No can't do! That is what I'm using for my presentation. What if I leave my house key with you? I definitely have to go home you know?" I dug into my pocket, fished out my house key and slid it across the counter.
"Deal, brother," he said, pocketing the key with a faint jingle. "Now, show me the laptop. Let's get this done."
I pushed the laptop toward him, watching him hug it up with his hunched figure and two rotten fingers. He didn't say much and shuffled off into an inner room.
*Yawn..*
Subconsciously, My eyes drifted to the animal-print couch shoved against the far wall perfect for cuddling up for a short nap. I pushed myself off the stool and crossed over, sinking into the couch with a groan. The fabric was rough beneath me, and it smelled faintly of old tobacco and engine oil, but it was better than nothing.
I leaned back, pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead. "If I sleep now," I muttered to the ceiling, "I'm going to wreck things tomorrow." I sat up slightly, digging my phone out of my pocket. The screen lit up my face in the dim shop, the reflection of my tired eyes staring back.
"How about I just set an alarm?" I whispered, thumbing through to the clock app. My fingers hovered over the screen tapping the digits.
A five hours sleep should be enough to keep me awake for the big launch. "Alarm it is."
I thumbed in the digits with a lazy squint, blinking hard to keep my eyes from crossing. My vision blurred for a second and I rubbed at them, muttering, "7:42… seven… four… two." I had dragged my thumb too long on the screen and Instead of 7:42, the numbers had ticked upwards.
17:42pm
I didn't notice.
"Good enough," I mumbled, yawning so wide it cracked my jaw. The phone slipped from my hand, clattering against the floor. I didn't bother picking it up. My body had already given up. I sprawled sideways across the animal-print couch, the cushions sinking under me.
"Time for sleep, Kaito," I muttered, words slurring into nothing.
$$$$$$$$
The alarm went off.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Then again. And again. Louder. It might as well have been drilling through my skull.
But my body refused.
Somewhere far away, muffled voices rose, sharp and impatient. Yells. Laughter. The unmistakable scrape of chairs, footsteps, a crowd pressing in and out of the shop. Still, I didn't move. I just sniffed, turned to the other side, curling deeper into the couch's scratchy embrace—until gravity betrayed me.
Thud!
I hit the ground face-first, air rushing out of my lungs in a grunt. Groggy, I pushed myself up on shaky arms, blinking until the blur became shapes. I croaked, throat dry. "What's… the time?"
A wheezy laugh echoed in my ears. He shook his head and barked loud enough for the whole room to hear. "You slept through the whole damn day, asshole! Thought you were dead on my couch. I was worried you'd suffocate it with your spewed semen."
I instinctively looked down on my pants. A cold pit opened in my stomach. The stain was there. I scrambled back onto the couch, dragging my bag to cover myself, heart hammering. "N-no way… damn it…"
"Relax, boy. Happens to the best of us. At least you didn't drown my couch, eh?" He jabbed his thumb toward the cushions. "But don't worry, I saved your lazy asshole. While you were drooling and squirmin', your boss came storming in here, red as a devil. Man looked like he'd bite my head off."
My stomach flipped. "My boss… was here?"
"Yeah." Okada snorted, hitching up his apron and wiping his oily hands on the hem. "He was ranting, yelling about some 'big launch' all that business. He demanded I help him copy the project you were meant to present at the president's house or some nonsense. So I did."
I froze. My fingers dug into the fabric of my bag. "…You… did what?"
Okada's grin widened, showing a row of crooked teeth. "I copied it into that white flashdrive you left last night. Told him it was all good to go. Man stormed out before I could even bill him. You owe me for that one."
My breath caught, everything around me sharpening into cold focus. The fog of sleep burned away in an instant. I shot to my feet, stumbling as my legs quaked. "No… no, no, no—"
Okada blinked. "What? What's the problem?"
I clutched my head, groaning. "That flashdrive is corrupted! That is where I store all my hentai and futanari XXNX games I make. That flashdrive got my succubus hentai game! My damn porn game!"
Okada's jaw slackened, the grin wiped from his face. "The fuck!"
"I can't have him plug that into Japan's main server…"