Tonight, I'm on patrol with Clare. Earlier, during the student council meeting, she said something that's stuck in my head: «Ren's too much of a bamboozler. He needs a wake-up call. Tonight, he's coming with me to that neighborhood.» That neighborhood? What is she talking about? And what does «He needs a wake-up call» even mean?
When she pulls up outside my house and opens the car door, everything becomes clear. My jaw drops.
Clare has always dressed provocatively, but tonight... she's gone all out.
She wears black boots up to her knees, fishnet stockings barely covering anything, and a dress so short it's more of a long shirt. No exaggeration—her thong is visible. Then there's the makeup: burgundy lipstick highlighting her full lips, black eyeliner framing her eyes. This doesn't even look like the Clare I know.
I'm frozen as she leans casually against the car, giving me a once-over.
«What are you waiting for, Ren? Get in,» she says, her voice smooth as velvet. «What's wrong, little Ren? Never seen a beautiful girl before?» Clare teases, crossing her legs slowly. «Come on, get in. I promise I won't eat you,» she adds with a sly grin, patting the seat beside her.
I want to ask why she dressed like that, but I'm scared of sounding offensive.
The neckline of her dress dips just enough to show a white lace bra, and her skirt is so short her matching thong peeks out. I can't look away.
«You're quiet tonight, little Ren. Everything okay?» Clare asks after ten minutes of awkward silence. «Y-yeah, I'm fine...» I mutter, trying to hide how flustered I feel. «Just thinking about something.»
The truth is, Clare's thighs aren't the only thing on my mind. What happened in the gym with Isabelle plays in my head like a broken record—her naked body, her haunting words... They've been burned into my memory ever since. Have I really become stronger?
«And here I thought you were busy having naughty thoughts about me. Honestly, little Ren, you need to wake up!» Clare says, her tone mockingly pitying, as if I'm hopeless. She smirks before adding: «Alright, guess where we're heading tonight.»
«How should I know?!»
«Oh, come on! Use your imagination a little!» she insists. When I don't respond—mostly because my brain is stuck on how her thigh brushed mine as she shifted gears—she drops the bombshell. «We're heading to the red-light district tonight!» she announces, as if it's a trip to a carnival.
Wait. The red-light district? That chaotic, dangerous neighborhood on the edge of town? The one full of prostitutes, criminals, and who-knows-what—so notorious even the cops avoid it? That red-light district?!
A chill runs down my spine, dread pooling in my stomach. I have a bad feeling about this. Despite Clare's reckless driving—honestly, it's a miracle this car hasn't taken off—it still takes us nearly an hour to reach the infamous red-light district.
«If you want to make it out in one piece, you must follow my directions. Got it?» Clare's voice is calm but firm.
I nod nervously. It's my first time in this part of the city—and honestly, I wish it wasn't. The anxiety pressing on me is suffocating, worse than in that creepy abandoned factory.
The main street is lined with more prostitutes than streetlights, their scantily clad figures glowing under flickering lamps. Shady men strike up conversations that churn my stomach. And the side streets? They're worse. Narrow alleys are filled with depravity: men and women tangled together in public, awkwardly hiding behind garbage bins. Others slump against walls or sprawl on the ground, convulsing or letting out eerie gasps—probably drunk or high on something potent.
I move closer to Clare, my unease growing with each step.
«Ren, put your hand on my ass,» Clare commands, her tone too serious for such words.
«W-why would I do that?!» I stammer, my face flushing instantly.
«Didn't I tell you to follow my directions if you want to get out in one piece? Look around, little Ren. Men come here for one thing, and you know what I mean. It'd look suspicious if a guy like you, with a hottie like me, didn't act the part, don't you think?»
«Y-yeah... I guess that makes sense...» Damn it, Clare's right, but this is so embarrassing!
With no choice, I obey. My hand hovers awkwardly before finally landing on her backside. And oh. My. God.
It's the first time I've touched a girl's butt, and I'm overwhelmed by how... amazing it feels. Round, firm, yet somehow soft. This is insane!
«Doesn't it bother you that I'm touching you?» I ask, my voice shaky, torn between embarrassment and disbelief.
«Why would it?» Clare tilts her head, genuinely puzzled.
«Well... it's just...» I stammer, searching for words. «This is... something a girl lets her boyfriend do. We're not a couple, so I don't get why it doesn't bother you.»
Her lips curl into a teasing smile. «You're such a traditionalist, Ren. So cute.» She steps closer. «You're sweet, fun to be around, and honestly, a really good guy. So, what's wrong with letting you touch me? Besides...» She pauses. «...it's the first time a younger guy has touched me like this. And honestly, it turns me on.»
Her words hit me like lightning. She's turned on by me?! My brain struggles to process it, but my body... it's already surrendered to the wave of confidence washing over me.
Her words embolden me. My fingers slide lower, cupping the soft, firm curve of her buttocks. I squeeze—tentatively at first—feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric.
She doesn't pull away. The tension is electric, and I can't stop. My grip loosens for a moment, then tightens again, bolder this time.
Heaven. That's the only word. This feeling, this moment—it's pure bliss.
This street's a parade of half-naked women, yet every eye is on me. I can feel the murmurs, the whispers—they must be jealous, right? Clare's beauty blows everyone else away. Seriously, she's on a whole different level.
The more I feel those envious stares, the more I push it. My hand slides up her thigh. My pulse hammers, but I don't stop. First just my fingertips teasing the edge, then, with reckless confidence, my whole hand slips under her skirt. It feels so good. My heart's about to explode! I've never done anything like this before. Normally, I'd be awkward and mess it up, but Clare? She makes it feel natural.
She's blushing, her lips caught between her teeth. She's perfect.
In a final act of shamelessness, my fingers slip under the white lace of her thong, crossing the last barrier. It feels so unreal I'm embarrassed to think about it! My fingertips meet... water? God, it's all wet! So, this is the moisture girls release when aroused? Clare's seriously turned on! And me... I feel my beast stirring, the bulge in my trousers obvious.
Clare's lustful eyes don't miss the bulge. «Looks like I finally woke you up...» she murmurs, her gaze fixed on my erection. Her breathing is heavy, her moans blending into the chaotic background of this hellhole of sex around us.
«Me too... I'm horny, so horny... I can't take it anymore... Ren, come with me!» Clare grabs my hand and drags me into a narrow, dark alley off the main street.
It doesn't take a fortuneteller to guess Clare's intentions. Should I feel embarrassed? Agitated? Scared? None of that, and even I'm surprised. Maybe that morning in the gym with Isabelle made me more uninhibited? After all, we didn't have sex, but our naked bodies were entwined in the shower; I touched her, and she touched me. Back then, I wasn't in control of my movements, but my mind was clear, and it's definitely a life-changing experience.
Once we're hidden behind the bin, Clare slips off her white thong, letting it slide to her ankle.
And now... what am I supposed to do? My confusion must be obvious.
Clare, with an amused smile, rests her hand on my head, gently pushing it down... lower and lower, until my face is level with her completely shaved vagina.
An unmistakable gesture. Driven purely by instinct and clueless about what I'm doing, I push my face between her thighs, my tongue hesitantly swirling over Clare's intimate areas, clumsy but eager.
«Slower, Ren... slower...» Clare murmurs, her hands gently resting on the back of my neck, guiding me. Finally, as if finding the perfect spot, she presses my head closer, almost pulling me into her.
I can't believe this is happening. Am I really doing this? My nose and cheeks are drenched. What the hell? I can't even tell if I'm doing it right. Is Clare... satisfied? In the adult movies I've seen, women scream like it's a circus, but Clare? She's just making soft little moans. I want to ask if I'm doing okay, but how bad would that look? Crap, I shouldn't have gotten into this with her! She's an expert, and I'm just... a clueless amateur. My reputation is ruined.
Elaine was right. Women want a real man, not some kid like me... Wait. What's happening? Is someone tugging my hair?
Suddenly, I'm flat on my back on the ground. What the...?! A big guy, tall and broad, stands over Clare and me. He's wearing rough, worn-out clothes—not like a Black Jacket. Must be one of those jerks who think they can take Clare from me. Yeah, he probably followed us here.
Then he speaks, confirming my suspicions.
«A sexy woman like you deserves a real man, not some kid!» he slurs, clearly drunk. «Let me show you how it's done!»
Panic hits me like a freight train, but I'm on my feet instantly. I shove the guy back, positioning myself between him and Clare.
«I'll slit your stomach, you brat!» the man yells, pulling out a huge kitchen knife.
Clare doesn't hesitate. «Ren, move over. I'll handle this,» she says, her voice cold and serious. «We're well hidden; using my crystal's power here isn't risky. No one interrupts me while I'm having fun!» she snaps, her anger growing with every word.
The man charges, blade gleaming as he lunges at me. I feel Clare's energy spike behind me—she's ready to fry him with one of her fiery attacks. But not today. Today, it's my turn.
I don't wait. I dive forward, not even defending myself. The blade sinks into my stomach. Cold steel cuts through, sending chills through my gut. Behind me, Clare screams: «Ren, you idiot! What the hell are you doing?!»
For a moment, the man freezes, shocked. He probably thinks I just tried to kill myself. But... everything went exactly as I planned!
My hand shoots out, gripping his wrist so tightly that his bones crack.With my other hand, I yank the knife from my stomach. The blade slides out, clattering to the ground as blood pours like a river.
Clare stands beside me, her face filled with worry. When she looks at my belly, where the knife just tore through, her expression shifts from panic to awe.
«Ren... how did you do that?» she breathes, her voice filled with wonder and confusion. There's no mark. Not a single scar where the blade should've left one. «It hasn't even been a month since that night at the factory... how did you get this strong so fast?»
The man, meanwhile, is panicking for a completely different reason. «I just stabbed you in the stomach, and then—what the hell?! How did you squeeze my wrist like that?! Who are you?!»
His panic is too loud, and it's starting to annoy me. Without hesitation, I move faster than he can react. The darkness of the alley and my speed leave him no chance. One punch to the temple. That's all it takes. He's down.
Did I... just kill a man? My eyes lock on my fist, dripping with blood. My hands won't stop shaking. Damn it, I killed him.
«Let's get out of here,» Clare snaps, urgency in her voice. A globe of flames ignites around her fist.
«W-Wait, what are you doing?!» I stammer, confused about why she's summoning fire.
«Because of your little show of strength, your blood's everywhere. One fire will do the trick. You know, this time of year, the homeless light fires to stay warm. Sometimes they get out of control and cause incidents. No one will question it if one starts tonight,» she says, grinning. «This is our secret, Ren. Everything that happened tonight—it's our little secret.»