Ryo's car glided through the narrow streets of Kabukicho, the vibrant heart of Tokyo's red light district. Neon lights bathed the area in a variety of colors, reflecting off his sleek, dark vehicle as he navigated through the throngs of people. The streets buzzed with life, a chaotic mix of revelers, club promoters, and women dressed in striking and erotic attire, all looking to lure in customers.
As Ryo stepped out of his car, he immediately drew attention. Women flocked to him, their voices sweet and persuasive as they tried to coax him into their establishments.
"Hey, handsome, why don't you come inside? We'll treat you like a king," one woman purred, her hand lightly brushing against his arm.
Another woman sidled up to him, her eyes gleaming under the streetlights. "You look like you deserve the best. Come, let us take care of you."
Ryo's expression remained unchanged, his gaze focused and determined. He politely but firmly declined their offers, his mind set on a specific goal. He was looking for one woman in particular—Otomo.
He had heard about her through Shrine Maiden, tales of her elegance and unmatched class. Otomo was renowned as the most sophisticated woman in the entire district, a figure of intrigue and allure. Ryo knew she was the perfect person for the job he had in mind.
She was even being compared to an Oiran from past because of how classy her manners and skills were. Sinceit was not legal for them to sell their bodies most of the places had the pretense of massage parlours or bars, so they could peacefully carry out their operations.
After several minutes of walking, dodging more advances and navigating the maze-like streets, Ryo finally arrived at a more subdued establishment. The exterior was traditional, with wooden sliding doors and a simple lantern hanging above the entrance. It contrasted starkly with the garish lights of the surrounding area, giving it an air of quiet sophistication.
Ryo stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the dim, warm light. The interior was just as traditional as the exterior—tatami mats lined the floor, and the walls were adorned with delicate paper screens. The place was almost eerily quiet, with only a few patrons scattered about.
Approaching the front desk, Ryo was met by a woman who appeared to be the manager. She eyed him suspiciously, her brow furrowed as she took in his appearance. He was too well-dressed, too handsome, and too composed to be a regular customer.
"I'm looking for Otomo," Ryo said, his voice calm and steady.
The manager didn't respond immediately. Instead, she studied him carefully, her suspicion evident. "And what business do you have with Otomo?" she asked, her tone cautious.
Ryo met her gaze evenly. "I've heard she's the best. I need her expertise."
The manager narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced. "You look too refined to be here. Are you with the police?" she asked, her tone sharp, as if testing him. "Besides Otomo doesn't work here anymore, at least not the kind of work you're searching for,"
Ryo shook his head. "I'm not a cop. My reasons for being here are personal, but I assure you, they're sincere."
The manager crossed her arms, clearly not ready to let the matter go. "If you're not willing to show me any identification, I can't help you. We don't take risks here since we are just a normal massage parlour."
Before Ryo could respond, a soft, calming voice drifted through the room. "It's alright. I'll take care of him."
Ryo turned his head to see a woman stepping into the room. She moved with the grace of a dancer, her every step measured and deliberate. Her kimono was simple yet elegant, and her eyes held a calm, almost otherworldly serenity. This was Otomo, the woman recommended by the shrine maiden.
The manager's expression shifted to one of concern. "Are you sure? If anything happens, you'll have to answer to the owner."
Otomo offered a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. Trust me. I can see he is a man of class."
The manager hesitated for a moment longer before finally nodding. "Alright. But be careful."
Otomo turned to Ryo, giving him a slight bow that was both respectful and graceful. "Follow me," she said, her voice as serene as before.
Ryo followed her through a series of sliding doors until they reached a private room. The room was a perfect reflection of traditional Japanese aesthetics—minimalistic, yet refined. A low table sat in the centre, surrounded by cushions. Soft, ambient lighting bathed the room in a warm glow.
Otomo motioned for Ryo to sit, and he did so, lowering himself onto one of the cushions. She knelt gracefully beside him, her movements fluid and elegant as she began to prepare tea. The quiet sound of the tea being poured into delicate porcelain cups filled the room.
Once the tea was ready, Otomo handed a cup to Ryo, then settled beside him, maintaining a polite distance. She sat in a poised, traditional manner, her back straight and her hands folded neatly in her lap.
As Ryo sipped his tea, Otomo's calm gaze rested on him. "What kind of service do you expect from me?" she asked, her voice gentle, but with a hint of curiosity.
Ryo set his cup down and met her eyes directly. "Everything," he replied simply.
Otomo arched a delicate eyebrow, intrigued by his answer. "Everything?" she echoed softly.
Ryo nodded. "I want you to teach me everything you know about pleasing a woman. Not just physically, but mentally as well. I need to understand how to make a woman feel truly valued and special. To put it simple I want my woman to be satisfied in every way so they won't even think about anyone else but me."
Otomo's eyes softened, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "That's a rather unique request, especially in a place like this," she said thoughtfully.
"I'm aware," Ryo responded. "But I'm not here for quick pleasures. I want to learn from someone who understands the art of connection, someone who can teach me how to make a woman feel cherished in every way."
Otomo studied him for a moment, her gaze penetrating but not unkind. There was a depth to Ryo's words that intrigued her, a sincerity that was rare in this part of town.
After a pause, she nodded slowly. "Very well," she said. "Even though I stopped working as a courtsean, I will guide you. But know that this will not be a simple lesson. It will require patience, understanding, and a willingness to learn not just with your mind, but with your heart."
"I'm ready," Ryo replied, his voice firm.
Otomo smiled gently, the calm warmth of her presence filling the room. "Then let's begin with physical first."
***
The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Students began leaving out of classrooms, ready to head home or hang out with friends.
Behind the school, near the quiet garden area, Yuki stood nervously, clutching her bag close to her chest. She had been asked to meet there by a boy from her class. His name was Satoshi—popular and always smiling, but Yuki had never really spoken to him much before today.
She knew he was popular among the girls of the school since he was in the school baseball team, but that's all she knew about him.
Satoshi approached her, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yuki, thanks for coming…"
Yuki looked at him, her heart beating faster. She could feel something was about to happen, but she wasn't ready for it.
"I, um… I've been wanting to tell you for a while now…" Satoshi stammered, his cheeks flushing. "I really like you. Would you go out with me?"
Yuki's eyes widened in shock. Her throat felt tight, and panic swirled in her chest. She wasn't expecting this—she didn't know how to handle it. The words caught in her throat, and she took a shaky step back.
"I-I'm sorry, I can't!" Yuki blurted out, her voice trembling. Before Satoshi could respond, she turned and ran, her footsteps echoing behind the school. She didn't look back.
Satoshi stood there, his face falling as he watched her flee. The rejection stung, but it hurt even more that she looked scared of him. Why? But what he didn't know was she was scared of the consequences of this confession and not him.
It didn't take long before rumors started spreading like wildfire. Whispers and snickers followed Yuki wherever she went. By the time lunchtime rolled around the next day, everyone knew about the confession—and Yuki's rejection.
And that's when the popular girls came for her again.
In the empty classroom after lunch, Yuki found herself cornered by the three girls who seemed to live off of other people's misery. The leader, Mika, stood at the front, her arms crossed, a smug smile playing on her lips. Her two lackeys flanked her, sneering down at Yuki.
"So, you really think you're too good for Satoshi now, huh?" Mika said coldly, stepping closer.
Yuki shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. "No, I—"
"Oh, come on," Mika interrupted, her voice dripping with venom. "You're such a pathetic loser. What, you think you're going to get someone better than him?"
The lackeys giggled cruelly, closing in on Yuki, who was trembling now.
Mika leaned in, her voice low and threatening. "You're nothing. You always have been. And now you've humiliated him, made him look stupid in front of the whole school."
One of the lackeys, Ayumi, suddenly grabbed Yuki's bag and dumped it on the floor, spilling its contents everywhere. Yuki gasped, dropping to her knees, trying to gather her things.
But they weren't done yet.
"Oops, did I do that?" Ayumi laughed, pushing Yuki's shoulder, making her lose her balance and fall.
"Why are you even still here?" the other girl, Kana, sneered. "No one likes you."
Mika smirked and stepped forward, kicking one of Yuki's notebooks across the floor. "Go on, cry. Isn't that what you're good at?"
Yuki bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, but her hands were shaking. Why won't they just leave me alone? She obviously knew lot of girls might have crush on Satoshi, but she is not one of them.
Just when it seemed like things couldn't get worse, the classroom door slammed open with a loud bang.
Everyone's head snapped toward the door, and there stood Anzu, her eyes blazing with fury. At her side was her friend, Mei, who looked equally angry.
Anzu stormed into the room, her fists clenched, looking like she was ready to fight. "What the hell are you doing?" she growled, her voice low and dangerous.
Mika raised an eyebrow, but her smirk faltered slightly. She crossed her arms defensively. "None of your business, Anzu. You should leave before we count to ten."
Anzu's eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer, her presence filling the room with a heavy tension. "Shut up!," she spat, her voice cold and sharp. "I warned you to never touch Yuki again, but you don't listen."
Before Mika could react, Anzu's hand whipped out, and the sound of a loud slap echoed through the classroom. Mika staggered back, her hand flying to her cheek, her face twisted in shock and pain. The lackeys gasped, staring wide-eyed at what just happened.
Mika's eyes filled with rage, but there was a flicker of fear behind them as well. She glared at Anzu, her face red with both embarrassment and fury. "You're going to regret that," she hissed, her voice shaking with barely controlled anger. "I promise you, Anzu. You'll regret this."
Anzu stood tall, completely unfazed by Mika's threat. "Get out of here before I make you regret it first," she said calmly, her voice laced with authority.
Mika shot one last venomous look at Anzu before turning to her lackeys. "Come on, we're leaving." She walked out of the room, holding her cheek in pain, her pride shattered. The other girls followed her quickly, not daring to challenge Anzu.
As soon as they were gone, Yuki collapsed into Anzu's arms, sobbing quietly. "Thank you, Anzu," Yuki whispered, clutching onto her tightly. "Thank you… I was so scared."
Anzu hugged her back, her fierce expression softening as she looked down at her friend. "I'll never leave you behind, Yuki. Not ever."