The neon sign for "Karaoke Palace" flickered erratically, like a dying insect clinging to life. Rain drizzled down, making the lampposts appear like they were drowning in their own light. It was one of those nights—the kind where drunks lay sprawled across the sidewalks, and shadows of desperation scoured the streets for the nearest brothel. A night that whispered, You really shouldn't be here, Hiroshi.

Yet, here I was.

Why did I agree to this again? 

Oh right—because Satoshi swore there'd be no trouble.

He always promised that, and somehow, I always found myself regretting it.

 I checked my phone—no new messages. 

Typical.

The karaoke bar's entrance loomed like the mouth of a cave. I pulled my hoodie tighter, feeling the damp fabric cling to my skin. The city's hum seemed to fade as I stepped inside. The door closed with a heavy thud, sealing me into a dimly lit corridor lined with posters of long-forgotten pop stars and idols.

I approached the counter where a bored-looking middle-aged man barely lifted his gaze.

"Room?" he asked with a flat voice.

"Room 7," I replied.

He grunted and pointed his hand toward the hallway. "Go ahead."

The lights flickered overhead, casting jittery shadows on the peeling wallpaper as I walked toward the room.

"Satoshi?" I called, keeping my tone casual. The sound came out thin, as if my voice was trying to hide behind me.

"Over here!" His muffled voice came from down the hall.

There he was, sprawled across the couch in Room 7 with a half-empty bottle of sake beside him, the TV frozen on the image of some bubblegum pop singer.

"You made it!" he grinned, his eyes a bit too bright.

"Yeah, just like you said," I muttered, glancing around. The air was thick, musty, with the sharp scent of stale beer and something worse—mold, maybe. My stomach churned.

"Don't be such a downer. Here, drink." He shoved the bottle towards me. I took it, mostly to keep my hands busy.

I perched on the edge of the couch and took a sip. The sake burned all the way down, but at least it gave me something else to focus on.

"So, what's the plan?"

"No plan, just a little get-together," Satoshi replied.

I raised an eyebrow, not buying it.

"What?" he asked, catching my expression.

I didn't respond, just held his gaze as the silence grew heavier between us. Satoshi shifted, a hint of unease creeping into his expression.

"You're just paranoid, Hiroshi. Can't we hang out without you thinking there's some grand scheme behind it?"

His eyes flicked toward the door, just for a fraction of a second.

Ah. There it is.

A sudden, loud bang jolted me. I spilled sake on my jeans as the door swung open, and two figures entered. One—a taller guy with a leather jacket, his smirk made my skin crawl. The other—a girl with dark hair and eyes that suggested she was on something.

"Hiroshi, meet Kenji and Mei," Satoshi announced, far too casually. "Friends of mine."

Kenji glanced at me, amusement dancing in his eyes as he took in the sight of my sake-stained jeans. "Looks like someone's already started the party."

I forced a smile. "Nice to meet you." Smooth.

Kenji flopped onto the couch, sprawling out like he owned the place. Mei lingered by the door, her gaze never leaving me.

It felt like I was under a microscope.

Satoshi grabbed the mic and began to sing some terrible pop song. I leaned back, trying to fade into the background. But the atmosphere felt… off. like everyone was in on something I didn't get.

Kenji's phone buzzed on the table, snapping my attention back. I glanced over at Satoshi, but he was too lost in his off-key singing to notice. Kenji, however, hadn't missed a beat. He was watching me now, a smirk slow creeping across his face.

"Your phone's ringing," I said, pointing to the table.

Kenji didn't look down. "I know." His voice dropped a notch. "Does it bother you?"

I shrugged. "Just thought you'd want to know."

Kenji chuckled, letting the phone buzz until it went silent. Satoshi kept singing, his voice a little too loud, too upbeat to fill the silence Kenji left behind.

Alright, I told myself, Just relax

"Yeah, no big deal," I muttered, managing to keep my tone light. "Didn't want you to miss anything important."

Kenji took a long, deliberate sip from the sake bottle, not breaking eye contact. "I don't miss things, Hiroshi. Ever."

Satoshi laughed, a little too quickly. "Guys, come on. We're here to have a good time." But his eyes darted back to Kenji's phone, the faintest flash of worry staining his face.

The song ended, and the room was swallowed in silence. Kenji passed the mic to Mei, who accepted it without a word. She picked a song I didn't recognize—something slow and haunting. Her voice, delicate yet unsettling, wove through the air, each note lingering like a chill that settled into my bones.

I have a bad feeling about this.

As Mei sang, I looked around, searching for a casual way out. My hand, slick with sweat, reached for the door handle.

"Where are you going?" Kenji's voice sliced through the music, sharp as a knife.

"Just need some air," I stammered. "Be right back."

I slipped into the hallway, the door creaking shut behind me. The cool air was a brief relief, but it faded quickly. A few steps down, I saw them—hulking silhouettes clustered near the door. A silent warning that no one would be getting in—or out.

Clearly not here for a "little get-together"

As I slowly backed away, I caught sight of the clerk from earlier out of the corner of my eye. He was slumped behind the counter, unconscious—or worse. My stomach twisted as the pieces clicked into place, the grim realization settling in: I was in way too deep.

I turned back, retracing my steps to the karaoke room. The music had stopped. Satoshi, Kenji, and Mei were all watching me, expressions unreadable.

"What happened?" Satoshi asked, trying to break the silence with a casual smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Nothing. Just… bathroom," I replied, forcing calm into my voice.

Kenji's smirk faded, replaced with a cold, predatory stare. "What did you see?"

I kept quiet, letting the silence speak for me. Mei leaned over, whispering something to Kenji, her voice too low for me to catch. The air felt thick, each second stretching too long.

Without a word, Kenji slid his hand into his jacket. My pulse quickened, but I forced myself not to flinch.

Satoshi's voice, usually so steady, cracked. "Hey, come on, we're just hanging out, right?"

Kenji paused, his gaze cold and unreadable. Then, slowly, he pulled out a brown envelope. For a moment, I felt a rush of relief, but it quickly dissolved. He tossed the envelope onto the table, papers spilling out haphazardly.

"We have a job for you, Hiroshi. Something only you can do," Kenji said, his voice low and commanding.

I hesitated, steadying my breath. "And if I refuse?"

Mei stepped forward, her eyes burning into me. "We have ways of making you cooperate."

I glanced at Satoshi, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. His face was a mask of guilt and fear. A look I'd seen before but never really registered. Now, it was impossible to ignore, he looked like a cornered animal.

"Alright," I said, exhaling slowly. "What do you need me to do?"

Kenji's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Smart choice. Let's get started."