It was an inconspicuous apartment building with a ramen shop on the bottom floor. I didn’t question the location this time and rang the doorbell. I had a sneaking suspicion as to what was going to happen beyond the door, and I ignored it. It was better to pretend I wasn’t walking into what I thought I was walking into for my mental health. Naagushiku opened the door, fake smile plastered on his face. He stood aside for me to enter, and I slipped off my shoes. Two women who looked vaguely familiar peaked their heads around a corner.

I could hear them whispering to each other, wondering aloud if I was the same one from last time. Naagushiku seemed amused at their pondering, it shifting quickly to mild annoyance as the doorbell rang again. I moved away from the door but stayed close to him, unsure of where he wanted me to go. The man on the other side of the door had a shoulder bag, and hair that obscured his vision. He was off putting, creepy almost. “Kuri taaga?” He asked, jutting his chin in my direction.

“I don’t pay you to ask questions, Sokosaa-kun.” Naagushiku took a step aside, no longer letting me half hide behind him.

Sokosaa blew air at his long bangs. “If you paid me more, I wouldn’t ask any,” he said as he walked past us, hitting my hand resting in its sling as if on purpose. I swallowed a grunt of discomfort, thankful for the pain killers still in my system. “Anshee, are you coming to breathe down our necks or not, ‘Shou-sama’?”

I held my breath to keep from laughing at such an absurd nickname. It only became funnier in its ridiculousness thinking it was spelled using the same character as the old kings’. I bit my tongue to keep myself together as I followed the two of them further into the apartment. We walked into a bedroom, and I hung back by the wall to keep from getting in anyone’s way. People, tripods, video cameras, lights, and an assortment of other equipment filled every inch of available space. Sokosaa muttered a string of insults and curses at the small room and Naagushiku as he weaved through everything, fiddling with things to his liking.

“Yatchii,” one of the women found her way over to me, wearing nothing but lace panties and matching stockings. “Are you indebted to Naagushiku-san or something?”

“That’s none of your concern, Iesei-chan.” I jumped a little at his sudden appearance next to me. She pouted and corrected him on her name. “Fine, Ie-chan, whatever. Just…go somewhere else I’m not in the mood.” He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me out of the room. He pinned me against a wall, body dangerously close to crushing my injured hand. “You want to tell me what this is about?” He held up his phone and I quickly read the Line message. “Why is someone from your company asking me about the shit I was doing in Naafa?” He positioned himself even closer. “Maybe I need to rebreak your hand, yaa?”

I closed my eyes, trying to recall the events of that day, weeks ago. I had been out since the early morning, taking photos of anything and everything, both for work and for my own passion projects. I hadn’t had the chance to move photos from my camera to my computer, so I had—that’s right. I had brought an extra SD card. It wasn’t until I started the new one did I realize what had ended up in my photographs. “I-I-I must h-ha-have given l-le-left the o-ot-other S-S-SD card on my-my desk and my b-bo-boss took it.”

Naagushiku’s hand moved closer to mine. “You expect me to believe that?” I swallowed and nodded. “Is your boss dumb enough to go to the police?” I shook my head. My boss was many things, but sicking the police on the yakuza was something even he knew would risk him his life. Blackmailing him, no matter how foolish and with a half-baked plan? That sounded exactly like my boss. “You’re going to take care of this, doo.” I nodded quickly, hoping he would let go of me and I could go back to awkwardly standing against the wall in that tiny bedroom. Once he did, I turned to shuffle back in when he put his hand on the wall next to my face, the unmistakable sound of moaning leaking from under the door. “I wouldn’t go in there right now,” he kept low, “not unless you want Sokosaa-kun to yell at you and force you to join Iesei and Ee-chan.”

I tried not to reveal how much the idea of being in front of the cameras, numerous eyes watching me fumble through whatever they wanted me to do, excited me. “W-Wh-What am I d-do-doing here, then?” I asked, unable to make eye contact and instead chose to stare at the few lines of black ink that spilled from under his suit sleeve.

He forced my face to look at his. “Plans change. Sokosaa-kun wasn’t supposed to show up today.” I caught the lingering scent of tobacco on his breath. “He’s very thorough. He’ll keep going until everyone is satisfied.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ll be waiting awhile, let’s get ramen, yaa?” When I didn’t move from being too caught up in trying to figure out how to eat a two handed meal with one hand, he shifted even closer. Colored ink on his neck dancing as he spoke. “Unless…you want to join them?”

I swallowed, my mouth feeling suddenly dry. I shook my head, not wanting to admit a few things to him. “Uu, ramen is okay.”

He let out what I could only describe as a chuckle and finally stepped back enough I could unglue myself from the wall. I followed him down the stairs to the ramen restaurant, calming myself by counting each step. I kept questioning if it was really only in my imagination or if he truly was trying to get a rise out of me by suggesting sordid things. I sat waiting for our food and for him to come back in from smoking, my only company a halfdead cellphone and the looks of sympathy the workers threw my way. So, they knew Naagushiku, I began to theorize. My conclusion became more concrete when he returned, and their sympathy turned to pity. I felt like a child who’d been waiting for their mother to return.

The feeling of being a child cemented further in me in having to ask for children’s chopsticks. Naagushiku seemed to find it amusing watching me try to teach myself how to eat with my non-dominant hand, noodles and pork constantly falling from my grip. I felt bad for the soup spoon, barely touched. There was no need to bring the broth closer to my mouth if I only had one hand to pick up noodles with. My hand was cramped by the end, shaking as I tried to bring the bowl to my lips to drink up the rest of the broth.

I looked down at the empty bowl. “Can I-I-I go home n-no-now?”

I heard him shift in his seat across from me. “Wuuwuu,” he said, and I felt my heart drop. “What’s the rush, anyways?”

“If y-yo-you’ve no need f-fo-for me here since S-So-Sokosaa-san’s here…” I made the mistake of looking up at him.

Naagushiku stared at me, the ghost of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “Plans change,” he said again. “You’ll still have work today, only in a different capacity than I originally wanted.” I waited for him to explain what I would be doing, unable to drag my eyes from his. He checked his watch, almost as if he was giving me the tiniest break from his glare before locking gazes with me again. I bit the inside of my lip, hoping he wasn’t aware of how uncomfortable I was suddenly feeling. “Ten thousand,” his eyes narrowed just slightly, and I shifted in my seat a smidge, “if you can make it to the end of the day. I’ll throw in an extra five thousand for anything else I ask of you, yaa?”

“N-Nu-Nuuga?” I asked.

He let out a small chuckle, crossing his arms. “I find your reactions amusing.” He leaned forward a touch, and I felt I was pinned against a wall meters behind me. “The way you think they don’t show so clearly on your face…” He finally stood, releasing me from the grip his eyes had on me. I followed him back to the apartment, the money too enticing for me to give up, not to mention I was worried he would rebreak my hand if I suddenly disappeared on him. I heard talking coming from the bedroom, orders being barked and Naagushiku was unfazed, immediately digging through the fridge. He held up a can of beer and I somehow knew what it was he was going to have me do before he said, “I’ll give you five thousand for every one you chug.” He helpfully added, “There’s about six in here, maybe more.”

The thought of making forty thousand yen in a few minutes was incredibly appealing. The power money had over me after years of living on barely anything was so immeasurable it scared me how fast I took the can from him. I popped the tab and let the sweet taste fall straight down my throat. I put it on the counter when I finished and grabbed the next one. The only thing keeping me downing beer after beer was the money I’d get at the end of the day. Eventually, I stopped counting the cans, feeling dizzy and tired and awful. I was vaguely aware of Naagushiku talking, but anything he said went right over my head. The moans from the bedroom stuck in my head, and I prayed they’d finish soon as the only bathroom was through the bedroom.

I put my head on the table, hoping to sleep a little. I heard him ask me something, the true content lost on the part of my brain in charge of being aware of things. My mouth moved, I was aware my mouth moved, but what I said was completely lost on me. The sound of him laughing and the smell of tobacco filled my head, and I found my way to staring at the ceiling. He asked something again and I responded, my eyes so heavy. I closed them, rolling onto my side. I mumbled something I didn’t catch before I felt sleep take me.

It was only a moment before I was awaken, the bathroom becoming a bigger issue. When the door opened I sprung up, pushing my way through and tripping over anything and everything. It felt like I had found a sanctuary the minute I closed and locked the bathroom door. I stared at myself in the mirror once my emergency was curbed. My appearance shifted and warped the longer I looked at it, like it was chiding me for whatever it was I said to Naagushiku. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping that would sober me up some. I thought long and hard as to what it was he had tried to ask me, and I swallowed, really hoping what vagueness I was remembering was just fiction.