1:37 PM
First came the static. Rattling metal, sounding like it had been dragged through a broken radio and then squeezed straight through your own heart.
Then the bass kicked in, muffled, like it was rumbling out of hell next door. An irregular pulse, always hitting when you least expected it. Still, every beat landed like a punch to the face. In between floated a melody something like jazz, carefully refined with shreds of distorted nightmares.
As the rhythm made everything tremble again, a fist flew.
A cloud of dust flew.
A punching bag flew.
Silver-white hair followed the motion, delayed, and whipped back as Lyra wound up for the next hit.
THUMMM.
Every time the deep voice cut out. Every time the bass rattled. Another fist landed, driven deep into the punching bag.
WUMMM.
Inside her over-ear headphones, the music hammered mercilessly against her eardrums. If you could even call the songs of the interpret "Istasha" music.
For Lyra, it was more than that. More like therapy, where you don't fight your demons, you set the rhythm for them.
THUMMMMM.
The punching bag slammed back again, nearly kissing the floor. It stood right next to the mirrored wall where she used to practice her cage dances. The elegant movements. The ones she'd used to claw her way up through Rudi's shitty tier system.
All on her own. No training from Nozomi. No help from anyone.
WHUUMMMM.
On the shelf beside it lay printed photos of different people. Rudi. Riri. And a boy with blond hair and a crooked grin. Shinkin. All dented, torn apart in uneven rips.
There was also a photo of Hana. Hers was crumpled, like Lyra had punched it once and then just… stopped.
Right now Lyra's own picture hung on the punching bag, more shredded than all the others combined.
THUMMMM.
Compared to the graceful dance routines from back then, this one-sided fist exchange looked grotesque. The only similarity was that the hits followed the rhythm.
And even that barely worked.
Thoughts shot through Lyra's head just as unevenly as her fists slammed into the leather.
WHUMMM.
What is the point?!
THUMMM.
Why is she fighting it??
WHUMMMMM.
After everything we've been through…
THUMMM.
THUMMMMM.
THUMMMMMMMM.
Why doesn't she understand me?
WHUMMMMM.
Why does it wreck me like this?
THUMMMMMMMM.
THUMMMMMMMM.
THUMMMMMMMM.
Why does it make me so fucking WEAK?!
WHUMMMMMMMM.
WHUMMMMMMMM.
WHUMMMMMMMM.
Lyra hit faster and faster, deeper and deeper, until her punches had nothing to do with rhythm anymore. Just raw violence. Blow after blow. Until her fists were nothing but pain. Until the thoughts disappeared.
WHUMMMMMMMMM.
WHUMMMM.
Whummmm.
Whumm…
Tump.
Lyra collapsed, crashing down onto her knees. Shreds of her own picture rained down on her like confetti. The end of a pathetic shitshow.
Her skin burned. Sweat mixed with bloodstains, tears, and Hana's vomit from yesterday. Her hands throbbed like they were still internalizing every blow. Her lungs begged for air. Everything rang, but at least it drowned out the rest.
For a few minutes she just lay there and didn't move. Her breath came heavy, lifting her torso and letting it fall again. That was all there was.
Then a sluggish glance at the clock. 1:54 PM.
Fuck. He'll be here soon.
Celian.
The guy who must've been watching her for days, maybe weeks. Definitely a creep. Maybe a murderer. There were plenty of guys who targeted prostitutes because no one missed them. Maybe he was Lyra's death. But that wouldn't matter. At least she'd be free.
According to Hana's logic.
Lyra pushed herself up, her legs still trembling from the strain. She gave Hana's picture one last look, then went to the bathroom.
The rain shower's water pelted her skin hot, turning it red. Lyra stood there, motionless, leaning against the wall. Wet strands hung over her face like a curtain. Her eyes were somewhere near the drain.
Why? After everything we've been through?
Why doesn't she want it?
Why do I always end up alone?
Lyra slammed her fist into the tiled wall. She cried out, slid to the floor and pulled her legs tight to her chest. They trembled between her arms.
Am I the problem? Because I always run away?
Like at Kawazokoike with Ha—
STOP.
She killed the tought instantly. Her teeth clenched together, forehead pressed against her knees.
Go away. GET OUT OF MY HEAD.
The water kept pouring like nothing was wrong. Like all of this was normal. A quiet sob beneath it. Blood was running from Lyra's lip again.
Minutes passed. The water hurt more than it cleaned. But pain was good right now.
Eventually she crawled out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. The tickle of the carpet between her toes made her pause. A quick glance in the mirror. She saw her eye. Ringed in blue. The way Jochen had left it.
Just because he couldn't handle how we—
"NO."
Lyra screamed.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
"GET OUT."
Her body folded over the sink, arms trembling as if the next thought might make her collapse.
She looked up. Across the room. Anywhere. Then at the digital clock above the sink. 2:12 PM.
Fuck, I need to hurry.
Lyra opened the drawer beneath the sink and fumbled through a box of medication. There were all kinds of pills. For pain. For sleep. For nausea. But nothing for feelings. She dug deeper until she found a Xanax blister. The last one.
Fuck. Already?
She popped one out and swallowed it with a sip of water.
How is that possible?! I just got some from that bastard last week.
Said bastard was Shinkin. One of the Bunnygirl recruiters. The guy who had brought her to the club.
She left the bathroom and dragged herself to the bedroom. The old underwear went into the laundry basket. She hurled Hana's dirty sweater against the wall. Still, it stayed unwashed.
She grabbed black jeans and a black sweatshirt. Simple, as always. Just clean, that was the main thing. It was the first clean clothing in what felt like forever, and still Lyra felt dirty. Last came the black cross earrings. The outfit was complete.
She stared at herself in the mirror for a while, as if she might find herself somewhere in there. Then her gaze landed on the bed. The damp towel from the shower was still lying there. And next to it, beside the bed, was the box with the old mangas.
What had she actually been looking for in there back then—
DING DONG
Lyra flinched, the memory shattered. The jolt had done her a favor.
Is that him?
She dragged herself slowly to the entrance, pressed the buzzer, and opened the door a crack. The security chain stayed on. Lyra's hand trembled only faintly on the handle. Normally you could hear everything in the stairwell. She knew that all too well. But right now there was nothing.
No footsteps. No voice. Nothing at all.
What is going on?
Lyra slid the chain out of the latch and stepped out the door.
"Boo!"
"WAAAAH!!!"
Right next to the apartment door stood a young man. His grin was wide as he leaned forward. Lyra slammed back into the doorframe.
"What the hell?!" She grabbed him instinctively by the collar of his sweater. "What do you think you're doing?"
His yellow eyes stayed calm. The grin too. "Well, well, Miss Aihara! Where are your manners?"
"Miss Aihara? Manners?!" Lyra snapped. "You're the creep who sneaks through other people's stairwells—"
He laughed briefly and slid his hands into his pockets. "Your lovely neighbor, Mrs. Ishimori, let me in downstairs. I've been standing here a while."
His expression lost some of its ease. "If I were some weird creep, I could have easily overpowered you and broken into your apartment."
Lyra's pupils shrank. She let go of him and looked away. "Maybe I would have preferred that."
The young man planted his fists on his hips and raised an eyebrow. "Because you want someone like me to overpower you? Oh my! Kinky, but flattering."
"Huh??" Lyra's face went red. She crossed her arms.
"Bullshit. I meant I'd rather have a creep than you." Her eyes went cold, like they did in the club. "At least they wouldn't talk as much nonsense."
"Hahaha, I thought you called me because of my nonsense?"
"I just wanted to talk to you. After you stalked me for days, if not weeks."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, I wouldn't call it that!"
"Huh? You—!"
But then he placed a hand on top of her head. "We can talk about it inside."
Lyra smacked the hand away, her glare still dark. "Hands off. Creep."
The young man laughed again, more genuine than before, but it didn't reach Lyra. Nothing about him made sense. She paused and looked him over.
His deep blue hair was slightly wavy, a little disheveled, falling casually past his chin. Between the strands, his almond-shaped eyes gleamed yellow like a cat's. His clothes were simple: skinny jeans, black sweater, provocatively similar to Lyra's.
She snorted, then gestured with a look for him to come inside. He stepped in with a cheerful grin. The door clicked shut. For a moment, the sound was the only thing filling the silence.
Until Lyra cleared her throat.
"Hm–hrm, so you're Celi—"
"Blegh, what is that smell in here?"
He made a face. "Cigarettes soaked in alcohol and… is that… sweat? I didn't know things had gotten this bad for you."
Lyra felt a tug in her chest.
The smell of Hana's sweater.
The memories.
"Just… just shut up."
The young man tilted his head and pressed a finger to his lips. "Hmm, well that really doesn't match the image of this well-kept apart— OW!"
Lyra rammed his shoulder as she shot toward the window and threw it wide open. Then she braced herself against the windowsill. "I said shut up, Creepian."
"Hey! My name is Celian!" he corrected.
"Nice of you to finally introduce yourself," Lyra sighed.
Then she crossed her arms and closed her eyes. "You obviously already know my name. Lyra. Written with the kanji for thunder and silk." (雷羅)
Celian looked at her for a moment, then laughed again. "Silk? Wow, pretty fancy! And fitting, since you are the most expensive thing you can get at your club."
Lyra's hand twitched. Then she grabbed him by the collar and pointed at the open window. "One more word and you're flying."
His grin held. "Oh, go right ahead! But who's going to help you get out of the club then?"
Lyra's grip tightened, the fabric of Celian's sweatshirt pulling taut. Then she let go and turned away.
"Never met anyone this insufferable…"
He pushed the hair out of his face, tossing a few blue strands to the side.
"Alright." Lyra straightened up.
"Enough of your stupid remarks. Who are you and why do you want to help me—?"
DING DONG
What?
For the first time, they shared a thought.
Can it be? Is that—?
Lyra stormed past Celian, straight to the entrance, and hit the buzzer. "Wait, what are you doing?!" Celian reached out, but missed her.
Lyra yanked the handle down. The door swung open a crack. Immediately a yellow grin appeared, wide enough to hurt just looking at it.
Vox.
Lyra stumbled backward, her back kissing the wall painfully. She'd acted without thinking once again.
Standing next to Vox was another familiar face. A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and the eye colors of 3D-glasses. Her suit was straight out of a James Bond film. Serena.
She was grinning too, but differently. Not sleazy. More like she was glad to see Lyra… just not in the usual way.
"Well, if it isn't our poor, sick little bunny," Serena greeted Lyra in a smoky voice.
Lyra coughed instinctively.
She had called in sick. One more day to work out a plan for Rudi's phone. And also because she couldn't stand another day in that place. After she'd recovered from her coughing performance, she looked up at the two of them.
"What do you want?"
Vox shoved past Serena. "Rudi wants to see you. Hana and you," he growled.
"But I'm—"
"Sick. Yeah, yeah. The boss has already seen through your little act."
Lyra froze.
Rudi knows? The plan? How?! That's impossible.
Did Hana—?
"So, you two pretty things, you don't need to keep hiding," Vox rasped, then got louder. "Hana! Get your ass out here. You're both coming with us. Now."
His grin twisted into something venomous. "You wouldn't want me to have to persuade you… would you?" He ran his bony fingers along the outline of the revolver beneath his jacket.
Lyra's throat drew tight like a knot in a rope.
Hana isn't even here. But how does Rudi—?
"What's going on, babe?"
Lyra froze as she suddenly felt two hands around her hips and a heavy chin on her shoulder. Celian had stepped up behind her and held her.
The shock seemed to hit Vox at least as hard as it hit Lyra. He stepped back from the door, his voice sputtering like a broken engine.
"Wh–? Huh… what?! Who the hell is that?!"
Then he stepped forward again. "What is this supposed to be?! You're not allowed to have clients outside of work!"
Celian's mouth was right at Lyra's ear. "Just play along."
Lyra swallowed, her voice fluttering like an old cassette tape. "Th– th– that's… that's my… date."
"What?! Your DATE—?!"
Vox scratched frantically at his chin, the gears in his head apparently were not as well-oiled as his voice. "So, uh– so that… that, changes things. Somehow. But you're still coming—"
Serena pulled him back and sized up the newly declared couple with a probing grin.
"Hmm… so you have a date?"
Serena had seen through the lie, Lyra was sure of that. But something glinted in those eyes that Lyra couldn't read. Cunning? Curiosity? Mischief?
"Stupid woman! What are you doing?!" Vox grumbled from the side. Serena shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance and turned back to him.
"Well, if that's the case, then Rudi's concern has resolved itself. Don't you think?"
"Huh?! But… but the order was clear. We're supposed to bring both of them—"
"Because Rudi thinks they're a couple conspiring against him." Serena sighed theatrically. "And if there's no couple, there's no conspiracy."
She tossed Lyra a casual glance. "Isn't that right?"
Lyra's throat was sealed shut.
"Wh– what? Me and Hana?! Never."
The lie hurt more than it should have.
"And why would we conspire? Haha… That's absolutely ridiculous."
Why is she helping me? Sympathy? Money? Or is this nothing but entertainment to her?
"You see?" Serena turned back to Vox.
His gaze rattled around like a broken tin can. Finally he swallowed roughly and let his hand slip from the gun.
"…fine."
He raised one finger and pointed back and forth between Lyra and Celian. He'd picked up that gesture from Rudi. "But this isn't going to change your hours, my darling!"
He'd recovered enough nerve for his disgusting laugh. "Hahaha… or should I say the number of clients? Hahaha!!"
He looked Celian in the eye. "You know you just picked yourself a prostitute, right, mate?"
"The most beautiful one of all!" Celian shot back proudly.
Lyra's face twisted like she was about to polish every jaw in the room. Celian pulled her tighter against him so she couldn't do anything stupid.
"Hahaha you're something else! You should drop by the club sometime!" Vox called over to him. Almost like he was about to clap him on the shoulder.
"With plea—"
"Right, we're done here." Serena ended the boys' conversation and hauled Vox away from the door.
She shot one last glance at Lyra, then dragged Vox by his olive-green jacket down the hall. Celian waved after them, even though they couldn't see him anymore.
Click.
The door fell shut.
SMACK
Celian got a smack across the face from Lyra.
"ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"
The blow landed so hard her own hand burned. She stood slightly hunched, red as a fire truck, gripping her trembling wrist.
"How dare you just touch me like that?!"
Celian held his cheek and laughed awkwardly.
"Hehe, well, you're just irresistible."
SMACK
"OW!!" Celian yelped.
"PERVERT!" Lyra shot back.
"Wow… and that from a prostitute."
Lyra's expression contorted. "Don't call me that."
Then she grabbed his collar again and yanked him toward her. "Never touch me like that again."
Celian laughed again. "Well, haha, it was literally the only way to save your ass."
He tilted his head. "Did you not notice that?"
"Of course I noticed! But… ugh, forget it." She turned away. Lyra stood with her face to the wall.
He raised a brow, then grinned again and shrugged. "Well, the act should buy us a few days. Nobody's going to question you running off with a good-looking guy like me!"
Lyra turned back around, her hand with her.
SMACK
"HAHAHAHAHA!" He took the hit and just kept laughing.
"SHUT UP YOU USELESS CREEP!!"
SMACK
"I thought you came here to help me?!" Lyra had Celian's collar in her grip again.
"I did!"
SMACK
The venom rose all the way into Lyra's face. "The only thing you're good for is that your ugly mug makes a perfect target."
"Just like your face for cumshots!"
SMACK
SMACK
SMACK
Now Celian had become the punching bag.