Sayuri watched as Hana and Lyra kept stealing little glances at each other while they ate their taiyaki. Something had shifted.
"I'm really glad that… you're… uhm, doing better," she said carefully.
Hana gave a faint smile. "…thanks, Sayu."
After some sweets, funny stories, and a few lighter moments, Sayuri had to head out. University was calling. The other two walked her to the door.
"See you around sometime, you two!" Sayuri waved cheerfully.
Before she could step over the threshold, she was stopped. A weak pressure, but gentle. Hana had pulled her into a hug.
"Sayu… seriously, thank you," she whispered.
Sayuri flinched slightly, her cheeks warming.
"Y–yeah… sure…," she mumbled, a little embarrassed, pulling Hana closer and resting her hands on her back. The Hana in her arms wasn't the cool, composed Hana anymore. She was vulnerable. Real. And somehow, that made her even cooler.
When they pulled apart, Sayuri felt another pressure—this time at her fingers. Lyra's fingers. Tight. Holding Sayuri's. A little too mechanical. The wide sleeve slipped over both their hands.
"Uhm… yeah. Thanks," Lyra muttered, her gaze drifting somewhere into the room. "I, uh… well, yeah… I guess I'll pay you ba— AAHAHH!!"
Suddenly, she was in Sayuri's arms. Hana had given her a light shove.
"Waaah! What the—?!" Lyra complained.
Sayuri stumbled over her own words. "Oh, uh… Hana, what are you—?"
She got cut off as she was squeezed. Lyra pressed herself tightly against Sayuri in a hug that was a bit too strong—but unmistakably real. A moment later, she pulled away again.
"Thank you, Sayuri. Really." Lyra even smiled.
Sayuri smiled back and raised a hand. "Aww, I barely did anything… but…"
She glanced down, searching for the right words.
"If you want, let's hang out sometime." She looked back up, more determined now. "And then you two can teach me how to skateboard!"
Lyra tilted her head, then looked over at Hana.
Hana scratched the back of her head, giving a crooked grin. "Yeah… sure thing, heh—heh… yeah…"
"Yayyy, let's gooo!" Sayuri beamed, already halfway out the door. The other two followed. "Alright then, take care!"
And just like that, she was gone. Hana lingered in the doorway, watching her until the pastel yellow sweater disappeared between the buildings and the rising sun. Then the two of them went back inside.
The apartment was a bit cleaner now, and the usual stench was slowly drifting out through the open windows. Still, something lingered in the air. Something you couldn't just tidy away.
Lyra closed the door behind her, hesitating for a moment. Then she leaned against it. "Hana, we… we need to talk."
Hana was already on her way back to the bedroom. The words made her freeze for a second before she turned around. Her hands moved awkwardly through the air, like a window cleaner mid-motion.
"Uhhh, yeah… hehe—uh… I mean, about the skateboard—"
"No…" Lyra cut in. A short sigh, almost a smile, but her voice stayed flat. "…that's not what I mean."
She was still leaning against the door, her gaze fixed somewhere on the stained floor.
Hana hid her hands in the front pocket of the hoodie.
"What… what's going on…?" she asked carefully.
Lyra ran a hand over the back of her neck. "It's just… I…"
Her eyes darted around, like she'd rather search for dirt on the floor than look at Hana. Then she forced herself to look up, fists clenching. "…you almost killed yourself yesterday." Her gaze softened as she finally met Hana's eyes. "Was that really just a relapse, or—?"
Hana's shoulders tensed. "I—I… I already told you that—"
"No—" Lyra stumbled into Hanas words. "Hana… I—I'm not trying to blame you, really. I just want to understand."
Hana pressed her lips together. Lyra's concern crushed her. She looked away.
"I could ask you the same thing. You wanted to drink. After taking all those pills. That— that could've killed you too."
She looked back at Lyra. "And then that scream. What was that about?"
Lyra froze. Then her fingers started fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. For a moment, she said nothing, like she was fighting something inside herself.
She looked up again, but not quite to Hana's eyes.
"Uh, so… do you remember our chat? When you, um… messaged me. A few days ago."
Hana nodded slowly.
Only then did Lyra meet her gaze. "I—I said I didn't feel like going to the club anymore."
Hana swallowed. Another nod.
"Oh… yeah, that… you did." She pulled her hands out of her hoodie pocket, tapping lightly against her palms.
Lyra saw the faint trembling in Hana's eyes. She pushed herself off the door and stepped toward her.
Hana instinctively took half a step back, then stopped. Lyra came closer, every inch stinging her pride. But her pride had already been broken anyway. Then Lyra took Hana's hands.
"I… I can't do this anymore. Rudi. The club. All of it." Lyra's voice was small, her fingers pressing just a little too tight.
Hana flinched, maybe from the touch, maybe from something else. But then she wrapped her hands around Lyra's. Lyra leaned into her shoulder.
"I… I know," Hana admitted quietly. "Me… neither."
Lyra sank further, burying her face in Hana's shoulder. Something invisible slipped off her. Her hands settled carefully around Hana's waist—gentle, but firm enough that Hana could feel it in her ribs. "…good."
Hana hesitated, then wrapped her arms around Lyra. Not tightly. Carefully. Like she was holding onto something Lyra had just let go of. They stayed like that for a while. Long enough to feel each other's heartbeat.
"…okay." Lyra pulled away. Her eyes were already blotched dark again. She wiped some tears with her sleeve.
Hana's gaze stayed on the floor. "And… how are we supposed to do that?"
Lyra staggered back and leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Mm… I don't know."
Her gaze turned glassy, distant. That was good. "Rudi doesn't really have much on us…"
Her eyes lingered briefly on the mirror across the room.
"…just those pictures. The ones from work."
"…yeah." Hana nodded carefully.
Lyra sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Then across the room. Then at Hana, who was picking at the fabric of her sleeve. The seconds dragged. Hana stared at the floor. Lyra thought, searching for an answer somewhere between Hana and herself.
"Of course!" Lyra's head snapped up.
Hana flinched, but looked at her immediately.
"Nozomi!"
"Nozomi…?" Hana's fingers tightened around her sleeve.
"Yeah, obviously. Why didn't I think of that sooner?" With every word, Lyra's voice grew steadier.
"I… uh…" Hana shook her head slightly. "I don't get it?"
Lyra walked over to her, gently freeing Hana's stiff hand from her sleeve and wrapping both hands around it. In Lyra's eyes was something Hana hadn't seen in a long time. A spark.
"That bitch definitely has access to the phone Rudi keeps those recordings on. There's no way he carries that thing around all the time," Lyra said, thinking out loud.
"Mm… probably?" Hana nodded.
Lyra straightened up. "It's definitely with her. That idiot would've lost it ages ago during drinking games with guests or buried it somewhere in his paper chaos at his desk."
"…maybe. We don't know that…," Hana murmured.
"Exactly." Lyra nodded. "That's why we have to find out."
Hana nodded along, too quickly.
"You're close with Nozomi." Lyra went on.
Hana stiffened.
"You set something up with her. A meeting. I don't know, about anything. If you have to, tell her you want to talk about what happened with Jochen.. Then, while you're there, I call for her. I'll say there's some kind of emergency with a client."
Lyra let the words settle. Hana swallowed them down.
"While she's gone, you look for the phone. Or a spare key to Rudi's office." Lyra stood straighter than usual. There was even a hint of pride in her posture.
"If we get either of those, we win!" Lyra's face had come so close to Hanas that only a can of Monster Energy could've fit between them.
Her words faded. Only the dripping faucet filled the silence.
Eventually, Lyra noticed too. She stepped back a little—but didn't let go of Hana's hand. "…so? What do you think?"
Hana's shoulders were drawn up. She stared at their hands. Her fingers moved restlessly between Lyra's.
"That… that sounds good…"
"It is good," Lyra corrected.
Hana gave a faint smile and slowly looked up at her.
Lyra squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Good. We've got two days off now. Let's work out the details… and then… Wednesday…"
Lyra smiled. And this time, it reached her eyes.
"Then we can leave all of this behind!"
Hana's fingers froze. Wednesday?
Hana pulled away. Just like that, without warning. Lyra's hands stayed where they had lost her.
Lyra stood there, frozen. "…Hana? What's wrong?"
Hana bent forward, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She sagged against the edge of the table, trembling. "I… I can't do this. Not… now… not… that fast."
Lyra's eyes narrowed, her mouth slightly open.
"But… but Hana… why?"
"It's… it's not that simple. I—"
"Of course it's not simple," Lyra cut in. "But that's not going to stop us! We can do this…" She stepped closer again and took Hana's hands.
"Together."
The corners of Hana's mouth twitched for a moment, but she pressed her lips tightly together. Just like her voice.
"Please, Lyra… I'm so weak… I…" Her voice broke, and part of her hated herself for how well that worked.
Her eyelids fluttered. Then the tears came.
"No, you're not…" Lyra protested immediately.
She recognized that face. Hana had looked like that before. A few days ago, when she'd first woken up at Lyra's place. When she'd run away. When Lyra hadn't been able to stop her.
This time, she wouldn't let her go. Her hands tightened around Hana's wrists. She didn't even notice how hard.
"Lyra! You're hurting me!" Hana yanked herself free and stumbled back a step.
Something tried to crush Lyra's chest, but she broke through it—along with her voice.
"Do you know what hurts ME, Hana?!" Her voice sharpened, louder now, straight into Hana's face like this was her fault.
"It hurts to step into one of those sperm-smeared FILTH ROOMS one more fucking time. To dance to Rudi's FUCKING tune… or perform for those disgusting RATS on stage."
She gasped for air.
"To let their vile hands touch me. To pretend it doesn't do shit to me."
The sharpness in her voice cracked.
"Especially now that I—" But shame strangled the rest of the sentence.
Only then did she realize how she was looming over Hana. Over Hana, who had shrunk down so small she was practically looking up at the underside of the table.
Lyra recoiled, stumbling back until she caught herself against the kitchen counter. She almost slipped.
"It… it hurts me too…" Hana whispered from below. Too soft for Lyra to really hear.
"Then why won't you do ANYTHING?!" Lyra shouted back. "You're the one who said Satsu would've never wanted us to end up like this?"
The words hit where Hana had no defense. Something in her eyes broke. So did Lyra's voice.
"How many times, Hana?! How many times are you going to get blackout drunk until something finally happens?! Do you seriously think an angel's gonna come and save you one day?!"
Tears streamed down Lyra's face, but she didn't stop. She just squeezed her eyes shut tighter.
"Last night almost put you in the grave, damn it. I ALMOST LOST YOU. FOREVER."
Her lungs burned, but she forced out one last sentence. "IS THAT HOW YOU PLAN TO ESCAPE THE CLUB?!"
Then she opened her eyes again.
Hana was sitting on the floor, lost between the chairs at the dining table. Right where they'd been eating taiyaki carefree just earlier. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself like a shield that did nothing.
Her whole body trembled, from toes to the lips. Into every single breath. Between each one, a quiet, unmistakable sob. Hana couldn't get a single word out anymore. Her gaze was empty.
Lyra swallowed. Once again, she had destroyed everything.
But before the guilt could fully lodge itself in her chest, she pushed off the counter.
She could barely keep herself standing. Her face burned with shame, tears, and the marks of her own fingernails. "I… I need to go."
Her bag was hanging on the chair by the table, next to the sad remains of Sayuri's sweets. She slung it over her shoulder and dragged herself toward the door.
As she passed Hana, she felt a tug. At her hoodie sleeve. Hana was holding onto her, but she wasn't looking at Lyra.
"…wh—why?" Hana whimpered, half to the floor, half to Lyra. Lyra's chest tightened.
Because I love you. Too much to keep living like this for even one more day.
That would've been the honest answer. The vulnerable one. But Lyra chose the other.
A tear rolled down her cheek, but she crushed it.
"Why do you care? You don't understand me anyway."
Lyra took another step. Hana's grip failed. Her hand dropped to the floor.
In the doorway, Lyra paused for just a moment. Her lips parted, like she wanted to say something, but then she bit down so hard she tasted warm iron.
The door slammed shut. Lyra was gone.
At the same time, somewhere else
Rudi sat at the kitchen table, flipping through the morning newspaper while the smell of freshly brewed coffee and toast filled the air. Sunlight streamed through the clean windows of his tidy kitchen. A world away from the dirty neon lights of his club.
Kanako hummed softly to herself as she spread jam on Rudi's toast. Her black hair was tied into a neat braid. She wore a light blue dress.
The walk home dragged on like a broken leg. The sunrise still hung between the gray blocks of buildings, but Lyra found nothing beautiful in it.
She was still wearing the gray sweater Hana had lent her. It smelled like her. But damn it, she wasn't going to look back now. No. She would keep walking.
Alone. Again.
"The kids already at school?" Rudi asked without looking up from the paper.
"Yeah, half an hour ago." Kanako smiled and sat down across from him. "Junpei took his origami swan with him to show his friends."
Rudi nodded and took a sip of his coffee. Everything was normal. Peaceful. Exactly how he needed it.
"Oh, by the way," Kanako said casually, spreading honey on her toast, "I was in Osaka yesterday. At a small 7-ELEVEN by Tengachaya Station."
Rudi's hand froze over the newspaper.
"Oh? What for?"
"My sister invited me for lunch, and I needed to pick up a few things on the way back." Kanako smiled. "And you won't believe it. There were these two adorable young women!"
The people passing by looked at Lyra more strangely than she could normally stand. But nothing was normal right now. Nothing mattered.
Not that she was wearing nothing but underwear and that oversized hoodie. Not the bleeding lip. Not the red stains blooming behind her drop by drop. Not the people on the street. Everything blurred. Everything was meaningless.
Lyra kept walking. Just forward. Forward. Forward.
Rudi felt something cold spread through his stomach.
"Cute… girls?"
"Yeah! One had long white hair! Silvery, almost like in an anime. And the other had short black hair with red tips." Kanako's eyes lit up. "They both looked so tired, the poor things. But still beautiful."
The newspaper crumpled in Rudi's hands. His knuckles turned white. "They… bought stuff?"
"Yeah, pretty late at night. I figured they were probably coming from work. So many young people have to work late these days."
Kanako sighed sympathetically. "The one with the white hair looked especially exhausted. She even had a black eye, poor thing."
Rudi's stomach twisted. A black eye. Lyra's black eye. From Jochen's attack.
"Why… why were you even in Osaka?!" It came out louder than he intended. He heard it himself.
Kanako flinched, looking surprised. "What? I told you, my sister—"
"You never go to Osaka! Why yesterday of all days?" Rudi's voice was sharp, like the expensive Miyabi knives in their kitchen.
"Rudi, what's going on?" Kanako put the toast back on her plate. "You're acting weird. It was just a normal evening with Yuki."
Rudi stared at her, his heart pounding. Had they seen each other? Had Lyra and Hana recognized his wife? Did they know who he really was?
Just before the entrance to her building, a raspy voice forced its way into Lyra's awareness.
"Miss Aihara?"
It came closer.
"Good heavens, what happened to you?"
Whoever it was sounded concerned. Miss Aihara? It took a moment before the name felt like hers again.
Lyra kept walking, her gaze fixed forward.
"I'm fine. Long night shift," she assured the stranger without lifting her head.
The words would do.
"These… these girls," Rudi said slowly, "did you talk to them?"
"No, why would I? I was just standing in front of them in line." Kanako frowned. "Rudi, you're scaring me. What's going on?"
"Nothing." He forced a smile. "Nothing at all. I'm just… tired from work."
His mind was racing. They had been there. His two best girls, just meters away from his unsuspecting wife.
"They seemed very close," Kanako continued. "Like good friends. Or maybe even more?" She giggled. "They were so sweet with each other. Especially the one with the black hair, taking care of the other."
Rudi's coffee cup clattered as he set it down too hard.
"More?"
"Well, you know. Like a couple." Kanako shrugged. "Not that it bothers me. Love is love, right?"
Rudi couldn't answer. His mouth had gone dry.
Kanako had seen his whores. Had found them cute. Had speculated about their relationship without having any idea that the money for their nice house, her clothes, their children's school fees came from those girls' bodies.
It took Lyra ten tries to get the key into the lock. She stumbled in with the door, greeting the cold stairwell floor with a kiss. A painful one.
The fall brought her senses back. The blurred lines slowly sharpened until reality came back into focus.
In front of her, the familiar little lost-and-found table took shape. Right in the middle of it, something black stood out.
High heels. Three pairs.
No.
Lyra stumbled toward the table.
Two of them were hers. The third, smaller one, was Hana's. The heels they had kicked off and left behind when they ran from the club.
Someone had been watching them. The same person who had found Lyra's hairband. Inside one of Hana's shoes was a note.
She tucked the shoes under her arm, dropped them three times on the way to the stairs, and forced herself up to the fifth floor. Every step burned in her feet.
The apartment door slammed shut behind her. The shoes hit the floor. She didn't care. She unfolded the note.
"Hi Cinderella,
I don't know much about you, but I know you hate this job. I can help you get out. And your friend too. You already have my number.
~ Celian"
Kanako's smile faded. "Rudi? You look pale."
"I… I have to go to work," he stammered, getting up abruptly.
"But you haven't even—"
"Important meeting." He kissed her hastily on the forehead. His lips were cold. "See you tonight."
He left the house as fast as he could. His hands were shaking. The front door slammed shut behind him.
Lyra's fingertips traced over the rough paper, her teeth grazing her bloodied lower lip. The text blurred under her touch.
Is this a trap?
She dug the first note with the number out of her wallet and collapsed onto the bed.
Lyra stared at her phone, then she typed in the unknown number.
And pressed "call."
Outside, Rudi leaned against his car and took a deep breath. The morning air was fresh and clean. So different from the air in his club.
But all he could smell was danger.
His two worlds had gotten too close. Far too close.
He reached for his phone and dialed Vox's number.