Chapter Text
The downward spiral began when Yoji broke up with her.
Not that Yoshimi needed a man to keep her life in order, she knew she didn't. She knew that, and yet, there she was once again in a place she swore she'd never return.
Shiroiwa's famous love hotel was known for many things, none of them particularly good.
To Yoshimi, it was a familiar escape from when she had grown tired of life and rebelled in her own way. She never had to sort out the arrangements, that was all Mitsuko's job. Yoshimi just had to show up, feign interest in some much older man, and go home with some extra cash. Once it was over, she'd stop thinking about it. That was a promise she had made to herself early on. Enough had occurred in her personal life that had already left her traumatized and tired, she wasn't going to let this be another item on the list. Of course, that was easier said than done, but Whatever, she'd tell herself, Just get through this and it'll be over. Get through this and you won't have to steal those nice things you want.
Her breakup with Yoji had completely blindsided her. Perhaps it was foolishly juvenile to believe that she would have a long future with a boyfriend she had found in junior high school, but Yoshimi had the naive heart of a romantic and had believed it to be true. He hadn't given her any reason not to believe it until just before they had broken up, either. He'd always showered her with compliments, held her hands so tightly, and stared at her in a way that had felt like genuine love that no other kids their age could understand, except maybe that one class couple, Ogawa and Yamamoto, but even their romance had felt so second fiddle to Yoshimi, who had felt that her very first love had been a gold struck that she'd never have to search for again.
"I'll stand by you no matter what, baby. You're my girl," Yoji had once promised her in their earlier days of dating. She had believed every word he had ever said to her. Perhaps that was why it had stung so deeply when he broke up with her, calling her a whore and an easy lay as he did so. The reason? A late period had caused Yoshimi to go through a pregnancy scare, and though in the end she wasn't pregnant at all- Yoji had already left the picture out of fear, not allowing Yoshimi enough time to explain what was really going on. He hadn't stuck by her side at all, as she thought he would through anything. He had left her so quickly and so coldly that her mind still struggled to process that it was truly over. He was truly gone.
"What a fuckin' jerk ass," Hirono had hissed when Yoshimi came to her in tears, telling her what had happened between the two, "A total fuckin' sleeze. I never liked that prick, Yosh, but you already know that."
It had done little to comfort Yoshimi, but she had appreciated the attempt regardless. It had taken her days to even muster a smile afterwards, and at that point, even she had grown tired of her own moping. Instead, she had rashly approached Mitsuko and asked for her to arrange a meeting with whoever she could find that had fat pockets filled with cash.
Her lips tightly curling into a smile that was as chilling as it was angelic, Mitsuko had agreed to arrange the date in record timing. By the next night, Yoshimi was standing in her hotel room, brushing through her long curls with her finger tips as she had many times before.
Sitting on the bed behind her, Hirono counted through her own stack of bills. "You sure about this, Yosh? I thought you didn't want to do this anymore."
"That was before," Yoshimi replied, not wanting to think of her reasoning too deeply. She had only just stopped crying herself to sleep. "But I can do whatever I want now."
"If you're sure," Hirono replied, easily convinced. She wasn't the type to try and convince other's to do the more moral thing- after all, it would be awfully hypocritical- but out of Yoshimi's two friends, she was the more caring of the two, and seemed to worry that Yoshimi's post-breakup attitude may be the beginning of a brutal self-destruction. "I'm right down the hall if you change your mind, yeah?"
"Yeah, I know," Yoshimi turned to face her friend with a forced smile, "Lets get parfaits after this, or frozen yogurt or something."
"Think I'm in the mood for fries," Hirono replied.
"Okay so like, fries and milkshakes then?"
"Sounds good to me," Hirono clipped her bills together with one of Yoshimi's peach hair ties and slipped it into the pocket of her robe as she stood from the bed. She checked her wristwatch and tapped her finger against it's surface impatiently, "Man, this asshole sure is keeping you waiting."
"He's probably like, stuck in traffic on the way back from work or something. Seriously, you don't have to wait with me. I swear I'll be fine. You know I've done this before," Yoshimi attempted to assure her friend, "I know you have a client in a few minutes so seriously, go ahead! I'll be fine!"
Hirono looked unconvinced. "Funny how Mitsuko is never around to wait at times like this."
Yoshimi gave Hirono a weak smile, as Hirono rolled her eyes. Despite the lack of words, the two had a silent sort of conversation between them. They both knew the answer well enough so neither had to say it aloud.
She doesn't care about anything but herself. Why would she be here?
"I'll be fine," Yoshimi said, this time her tone more soft, almost pleading. She couldn't hide that she was nervous, but she genuinely believed the words she spoke. She'd be fine. She'd done this before.
"Alright then I'll leave you to it," Hirono finally gave in, twisting the door knob as she hugged her robe close to her body. Before exiting, she added, "See you later, Yosh."
"Bye, Hirono," Yoshimi replied, giving a brief wave until Hirono had fully shut the door, leaving Yoshimi to herself in the room.
All at once, Yoshimi's nerves returned to her. She briefly regretted letting Hirono leave her on her own, knowing that if she thought too deeply about her current predicament, she was likely to set off a fountain of tears that would ruin the makeup she'd spent hours applying to her face.
She sat herself in front of the vanity, inspecting her face in the mirror as she applied a fresh coat of red lipstick, her heart beating at a strange, anxious pace.
"It's fine," She spoke to herself in a slow voice, "You've been here before, and you're doing this because you want to. Because you can do anything that you want to now. It doesn't matter what Yoji would think. He doesn't matter at all. It's about me now. I'm not going to cry anymore."
She forced a smile just then, but she had read somewhere that after awhile, faking a large smile could convince the human brain that it was genuinely happy and could induce confidence. She didn't know how much of that was true but she trusted the words of her fashion magazines as if they were a holy bible. They hadn't steered her in the wrong direction before.
Just then, a knock at the door made Yoshimi jump to her feet. She had been so fully lost in her thoughts that she had nearly forgotten why she was there in the first place. She gave herself one final look in the mirror, adjusting the hem of her short, black lingerie dress so that it was long enough to cover everything that needed to be.
"You've got this," Yoshimi assured herself one last time before she made her way to the door, opening it slowly as she greeted, "I almost thought you weren't going to show up, Mr. Takesh--"
Once she had finally caught a glimpse of the man, Yoshimi couldn't help but choke on her words. He wore a thick Halloween mask, shaped like the face of a famous child's pro-police cartoon character, Puyumi Pig, a piglet with giant blue eyes and rosy cheeks that wore a policeman's cap between it's ears. Although it wasn't unheard of for client's to wear masks to hide their identities, this was the first such case that Yoshimi had witnessed. To make matters worse, she had grown up watching Puyumi Pig, which somehow made the costume of choice seem even more ominous.
"Mr. Takeshi," Yoshimi completed her words after a seconds hesitation. The name was also a likely alias but Yoshimi tried to be as friendly as she could. Finally, she opened the door further and stood out of the way, "Uhm, please come in..!"
The man stepped into the room, and headed straight for the bed, allowing his shoulder bag to slide down to the floor beside the nightstand. He stood still, and faced the wall. He hadn't said a word yet.
"Could I take your jacket?" Yoshimi asked, her heart rate increasing, though she blamed it on her usual nerves. "M-Maybe get you a bottle of water or a cigarette or something?"
"Just lock the door," The man replied, his voice surprisingly soft, "I can't risk anybody seeing me here. That sort of thing. I'm sure you understand."
"Of course!" Yoshimi tried to reply enthusiastically, her tone coming off more forceful than she had intended. Regardless, she did as she was told. In the meantime, the man removed his jacket, and placed it on the bed. He kept his mask on.
"Now get on the bed," The man commanded, "I don't have much time."
"Okay," Yoshimi replied, again doing as she was told. She crawled onto the bed from the end, and then sat as she waited for the man to follow suit.
But he didn't. He stood still, staring at her through the mesh holes in the Puyumi Pig mask. Yoshimi had no way to read his expression, his body language alone far too stiff to tell.
"Wouldn't you like to join--"
"Turn around." The man commanded again, his voice getting more firm with each demand.
But Yoshimi knew she wasn't in a position to argue. The last thing she needed to deal with was an escalation from an upset client. She was in far too vulnerable of a position to risk anything.
Turning around to face the beige walls, Yoshimi could feel as the man leaned against the bed, the bed frame creaking beneath his weight. He stayed in that position for some time, as the sound of zippers signified to Yoshimi that he was likely undressing himself. She reached at the side of her lingerie dress to do the same with her own clothing but was quickly met with the strong grip of one of the man's hands.
"Don't move," He said coldly.
Yoshimi felt her body freeze in place, too scared to even move her hands from the side. Nothing about this was normal.
"You're going to do as I say. Normally I like to get to know you girls a little better first but," The man's hand had reached Yoshimi's shoulder at this point, and she could feel his chest now pressing against her back in a tight grip. His other hand raised at his side, creating a clear silhouette against the wall, and even before Yoshimi had seen a glint from the corner of her own eyes, she knew that he was holding a knife. "But as I've told you, I simply don't have the time."
"N-No, no, please- Whatever you're thinking about doing, p-please, don't... I'll do anything!" Yoshimi could feel the pleas pouring from her mouth before she even had time to process them, "P-Please!"
"That's a funny word, 'Please'," The man chuckled, "I hear it so often. Hell, I've even taught it to my own children, but it sure does lose it's meaning after some time. You'll have to do better."
"I-I-I," Yoshimi didn't know what to say, "I-I swear I'll do anything!"
"Better than that," The man groaned into Yoshimi's ear, the plastic Puyumi Pig mask cold against her skin.
"P-Plea-- Y-You don't have to do this!" By then Yoshimi's eyes were hot with tears. She felt her chances of escape were unlikely. Hirono would be meeting her own client at the same time, and nobody ever knew where the fuck Mitsuko was. Nobody else could possibly save her. Nobody else would even know where she was. Oh God, what had she been thinking? Why had she let Hirono leave? Why had she decided to do this all over again?
"I-I won't tell anybody so l-let me go," Yoshimi added, the tears running down her face, taking bits of mascara down with them. "I s-swear!"
She briefly thought of her family. Though it was a small, broken family, she couldn't help but wonder if they would cry when she was gone. Would her mother even be sober long enough to realize it? Would her absent father try to reconnect with her one day only to find she'd been murdered in some small town love hotel? And who would arrange her senile grandmother's medicines for her now?
"That doesn't do you a lot of good when you don't know who I am in the first place." The man sneered, running the tip of the knife down Yoshimi's cheek. "So let me tell you what's going to happen now. I'm going to have you turn around and watch as I gut you like a fucking fi--"
The man's words were cut short as the hotel's fire alarms began to blare throughout the room and down the hallway. Both the man and Yoshimi remained at a standstill, unsure of what to do next. She briefly considered using this chance to escape, but there were no objects near her that she could use as a weapon to protect herself against the man, so she quickly shot the idea down. That would only make him angrier and bring her own demise sooner.
"Stay here. Don't move a fucking muscle," The man demanded as he let go of Yoshimi and rushed to the door to stare out the peephole. A rapid succession of knocks began from the other side, causing the man to swear out, "Fuck! Consider this your lucky day, whore."
Yoshimi turned around just in time to witness the man swing open the door and make a run for it. On the other side, a confused looking Hirono stood with her hand still in the knocking position. She snickered, "What the fuck was that guy wearing?"
"O-Oh, Hirono!" Yoshimi cried out, tumbling off of the bed as she made a rush toward her friend. "H-Hirono, you don't even know the half of it!"
The light tone of the other girl quickly shifted to more serious as she bent down at Yoshimi's side, "What the fuck happened?! What did he do to you?!"
As she looked up at the other girl, Yoshimi's face was a mess of tears and blood, "He was going to kill me! He had a knife and everything! Oh my God, Hirono, i-it was terrible. If it wasn't for that alarm and you... I'd so totally be getting murdered right now."
"For fucks sake," Hirono gasped, wiping some of the trickling blood from Yoshimi's cheek with the tip of her robe. "Should've known only a creep would come in wearing that fuckin' poontang pig mask. Shit. I should've stayed with you, Yoshimi. I should've known something was off."
"I-It's fine," Yoshimi sobbed, "Everything is fine now. Lets go home!"
"NOT SO FAST YOU FUCKIN----" A sudden voice interrupted the girls, causing Yoshimi to scream and cling onto Hirono. However, the fear was short-lived.
Once she had opened her eyes again, Yoshimi was shocked to find that the unwanted guest was not the masked man, but rather, a group of boys that attended her school. A delinquent group referred to as the 'Kiriyama Family', though the one currently leading the troupe was the smallest of them all, Hiroshi Kuronaga. In his hands he held a long stick that burned bright with flames at the end, which he lowered upon realizing who he was facing.
"Yahagi?!" Hiroshi yelled out.
"K-Kuronaga-kun?" Yoshimi gasped, "What are you doing?"
"Huh?! What the hell are YOU doing?! This is where our fuckin' pig is supposed to be!"
"Pig...?" Yoshimi repeated, giving Hirono a curious look. She then looked back at the boys. "What do you mean..?"
Hirono narrowed her eyes at the boys and then stood defensively in front of Yoshimi. "What the fuck do you mean by that? I'll give you twenty seconds to explain."