I kept staring at the bills in disbelief. A month’s wages, at least, made in a few hours. And there was to be more?! Suddenly being fired and working for the Farudama’uji didn’t seem so bad. No more scrimping and saving, groveling to my excuse of a boss to keep his threats of a pay cut at bay. I could finally pay my rent and have some left over to buy real ingredients. Just the thought of fresh fruit and vegetables was enough to have me seriously consider quitting before I could be fired. The one silver lining, though, was that my boss seemed to back off slightly at the doctor’s note I gave him and seeing my hand in a cast and busted nose in person.

I immediately put the cash in a drawer the minute I got home. I didn’t want to acknowledge it at first, if I pretended it wasn’t real, then it couldn’t be real. But then I had the urge to confirm it was real. To count it again and again, until all I could do was stare at it, almost daring it to grow legs and walk away. My phone buzzing pulled me out of my latest fixation. I gathered my things to head to the clinic when my phone buzzed a second time. Where are you? I ignored Naagushiku’s message, not wanting to fight the inevitable spelling mistakes I’d make texting him back with my left hand while I walked to the bus stop.

My phone kept buzzing in my pocket as I made my way to the ground floor of my apartment, careful not to move my shattered hand too much in its sling. “Ai!” Someone yelled as I finally stepped out into the stifling heat. “Ai, Shimabukuro-kun! What did I say not to do?” I clenched my jaw as I turned to face Naagushiku, more scared that he knew where I lived than annoyed he had found me. He brought a still lit cigarette butt to his lips, getting in one last drag before snuffing it in his pocket ashtray. “Get in the car.” I began to explain why I couldn’t when he cut me off. “I don’t like repeating myself, Shimabukuro-kun.” I got in the back of his car without much of a fight. He sat down next to me, the driver pulling onto the road before I could ask where it was we were going. “This is for you.” He held out an envelope.

I took it from him, somewhat surprised at the weight of it. I opened it to find a stack of bills, and just from the weight alone I could tell it was close to, if not the same amount, he had already given me. This was the rest he had promised. I closed it and placed it in my bag. “N-Ni-Nifeed-de-deebiru.” He made a small noise at my thanks. “Ano…W-Wh-Where are you t-ta-taking me, N-Na-Naagushi-shiku-san?”

“Where else but your appointment?” He asked. “I don’t believe I owe you so little, and besides, I don’t like getting invoiced.” We fell silent and I stared out the window, wincing as the driver went over a bump too fast. Even the small force my hand hit against my chest was enough to cause pain to thrum through my entire arm. “Ai, careful,” he leaned forward, murmuring a threat I didn’t fully catch.

I practically ran from them the moment the car stopped moving in the orthopedic clinic’s parking lot. The farther I was from him, the better it would be for my nerves, especially before my surgery. But he grabbed my upper arm, giving me a warning and setting the pace. He stuck uncomfortably close to me until I was called to a place he couldn’t enter. I breathed in and out, calming myself now that he wasn’t watching me. His need to keep me in his sights was unwarranted. I wasn’t going to suddenly run from the clinic, not when I needed to regain some function in my hand.

I went through my current predicament in my head for what felt like the hundredth time. Maybe it was pity or some sort of need to buy my silence on Naagushiku’s part to keep my around for now. Was he really going to have me work for him after my hand healed, though? I thought back to the photoshoot, at how much space he took up behind me, his threats that weren’t entirely threats to me. I wiped my hand over my face. Had I been so focused on work that the first somewhat attractive man I ran into was enough to make me act like a schoolgirl?

A plan began to form itself as I dwelled on it. He seemed interested in me, at least physically. I could use that to my advantage, release some of my pent up desire, and if I executed it perfectly, something to use as blackmail. I’d do anything to keep my hide clean and on the right side of the law, at minimum on paper. I closed my eyes against the fluorescent lights, changing my focus to what it was the surgeons were going to do with my hand as I drifted into the black.

Another round of pins and metal to get my shattered bones back into something somewhat resembling what they should. Another prescription for pain medication, and a new caste to match my new scars. Naagushiku was still in his seat by the time I was released from the back. He joined me at the front desk, wordlessly taking the receipt from the receptionist and fed cash into the machine. He let out a surprised huff at the amount, still somewhat in disbelief it cost as little as it did.

He led me back to the car, asking, “Shimabukuro-kun, yaaya nuu kamabiiga?”

“Fuu?” I let slip.

He repeated himself, adding, “You’re all skin and bones.” He opened the car door for me. “I prefer some meat on my men, so pick something. Anything you want to eat.” I was still somewhat groggy from the anesthesia, not expecting him to laugh at my choice and say, “I’ll buy you whatever you want, and you want some cheap gyudon?” I nodded, feeling less embarrassed to double down than to change my answer. “You heard Shimabukuro-kun.” He looked into the rearview mirror, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

I wanted to sink into the seat of the car thinking about how I wished he would turn those eyes on me. I just needed to keep my composure until I got home, I kept on telling myself. The plan wasn’t set in stone yet, I couldn’t let myself be carried away by physical urges fueling impure thoughts. I clenched my jaw all through the silence, making certain my head remained devoid of any thoughts. I made it a point not to look at him until I was forced to have him in my line of sight in the restaurant. He looked so out of place in his suit, ink desperately trying to spill out from under his sleeves and collar.

I put all my focus on my weaker left hand as I spooned rice and beef into my mouth. It felt like forever since I had meat, even if it was cheap. “How are you with a video camera?” He asked. “I may have another job for you.”

I swallowed. “N-No-Not as good as I a-am with a ph-pho-photo camera but…”

“But you know how to use one,” he finished for me, and I nodded. He leaned back, covering his mouth as he thought. “Uu, that’ll work…Don’t ignore me again, Shimabukuro-kun. I’ll be sending you the details on the work later.” I gave him my own “Uu” as our conversation fell back into silence.

I was already dreading whatever job it was he was going to have me do. I really hoped it wasn’t going to be in a similar vein as the photoshoot, deep down, I knew it would be. The rumors the Farudama’uji had their hands in the sex industry had turned out to be true. There was no way it stopped only at strip clubs and dirty photos. They were bound to have more things contaminated by their hands, especially if that stack of bills was any indication. I knew, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, even once my hand was fully healed I wouldn’t be able to worm my way out from the Farudama’uji.

Naagushiku took me back to my apartment complex, reminding me once more to not ignore him again. I was glad he didn’t insist on following me up to my apartment. I wasn’t mentally prepared for him to set foot there yet. It had devolved into a mess with my injuries inhibiting me from cleaning. Not to mention if we were in a closed space alone together, I wouldn’t be able to run away if something were to happen.

I put the envelope of money with the rest of it. After a while of staring at the stack and trying to figure out what to do, I took a few thousand and five thousand yen bills and put them in my wallet. The rest I hid in my desk until I thought of where best to put it. Then, I laid down, staring at the dark ceiling unsure of what to do with myself. I let all my thoughts whoosh through my head, it finally sinking in that I had extra money. Extra money I could do—buy—whatever I wanted with. I sat up, digging it out from my desk and counting it up once more. I bit my lip as I set aside the amount I’d need to deposit for rent and utilities for this month. The rest I separated into three even stacks.

I grabbed my bag, my phone, my keys and my wallet as I made my way out of my apartment again. I would hit an ATM first, deposit some of the money, and then go to the grocery store for the first time in what felt like forever. I chided myself for not making him take me to one and force his driver to carry my bags of groceries. I would manage, somehow. The heat of the sun clung to me as I walked down the street, the strong ripple of wind every so often a nice reprieve from its glare. I walked faster to get to the convenience store and to finally be hit by the air conditioner.

I had a one track mind as I walked in, heading to the corner for the ATM. I struggled a bit to pull the bills from my bag with my left hand. I even made the mistake of trying to grab the handle with the first knuckle of my right pointer finger. The pain of trying to bend it, to make it carry weight almost had me cry out. Finally, after what felt like an hour of me struggling, the money had been deposited.

I made my way to the closest grocery store, no real list of what it was to get. It had been so long since I had made a grocery list, having had to do a lot of my shopping at convenience store due to how cheap I needed to live. I walked around with no rhyme or reason, putting things I had so desperately missed in my cart. I could afford fruit, could afford vegetables, if it weren’t for my hand, I could cook again. I would’ve cried out in joy in the middle of the small store just at the mere thought of holding cooking chopsticks again. To only use my water heater for tea instead of for instant ramen. And I took my time deciding on what new tea bags to get. Took my time deciding on each and every piece of fruit, inspecting every vegetable I happened upon. Grabbing rice and rice toppings, just the thought of using my rice cooker again made me so happy. For posterities sake, I bought my first two liter bottles of guava leaf tea and sanpin tea in months.

Then my phone buzzed, my joy being sapped by Naagushiku’s message. A time, a date, a place. Making him happy was the only way I would be able to keep up this lifestyle. That reminder slapped me in the face.