The rays of the dipping sun make the tall buildings around cast a shadow on the neon sign in front of us. But precisely because of that, the sign is more glaring, and it reads 'Def-Art'.
"Yes, this is the place."
"Then can you tell me again why we are here? More importantly, why am I here?
I look at the ones going into the club a few meters away, then turn to Emmie to meet her gaze.
I think for a moment. The memory of what happened a few days ago come to my mind. The fight on the rooftop where I almost had a date with death is the most prominent image that floats in front of me, but right behind it, is the image of Emmie unconscious in the lab.
I can imagine what would have happened if I had not taken back the initiative that day. She would have turned into just another letter in the passcode to the cloud server of a degenerate, another addition to the number inside, while I…
I keep telling myself that not even photos of me naked would have prevented me from fighting back, that an assault would have only made me angry enough to want Tyne in hell with me, but theory has always been easier than practice.
"Max!"
I tilt my head, and the faraway look in my eyes fades away. I take a breath, then roll my eyes.
"Tell me something and I will tell you what you want to know."
Emmie immediately shakes her head.
"Mm–mm. You go first, then I will go."
We seal the deal with a wordless staring contest, then I follow through with the terms.
"You are beautiful, and you know that. I also know that you plan to use your beauty to your advantage for an easy path in life. But let me tell you that if you are just a pretty face and boobs and ass, you will only be–"
"A prey?"
An easy prey, even, with how carefree she is. I want to roll my eyes even more fiercely this time. To think that she has that awareness but prefers to remain lazy. I don't envy her carefreeness anymore. But maybe, with the masochist that she is, she…
I shake my head inwardly.
"I was about to say that you would be going at things halfheartedly. The face and the curves are just the entry ticket. Building your body into something even better would be putting all the advantages on your side."
Emmie raises an eyebrow, and turns to look at a mass of bones and muscles that arrives and steps into the club not far. Then she fiercely shakes her head.
"I don't want to become rigid and full of muscles. I like myself the way I am."
"Is that so? Then let's not talk about office work where you would be a pretty vase after being hired if you don't have any skill beyond being beautiful. Being a model, an actress or anything else that demands more in terms of appearance, do you think you can succeed without stamina."
"But I have stamina~"
"In bed. Do I have to bring up your results from physical education classes?"
"Mm~"
Emmie pouts, and stomps on the ground. She looks at the club, struggling to cut the towering three called hesitation that has taken deep roots in the soil called laziness.
I suppose I would have remained like that too, if not for the accident, and my sudden surge in maturity.
"Alright, I've answered your question, it is now your turn."
The change of subject is welcomed by Emmie with more energy than just a moment ago.
"Go on. What is it that you want to ask me?"
I look around first. Not only do I check the minds closest to us to see if some were paying attention, I bite my lip and pull Emmie a bit to the side with a few steps forward.
"What is it? You are being so discreet!"
"How do you have… the toys we used at your place?"
"Huh!? Oh~"
The reaction that follows the confusion makes me blush, but only slightly.
"Do you want to buy some yourself? I know where you can find them. You can even find them online, with discreet deliveries."
This time, my blush deepens, and I slap Emmie on the arm.
"Tell me! Why do you even have those things?"
I say nothing about whether I want to buy some for myself. Emmie gives me a meaningful smile, and stops teasing me.
"Alright, I will tell you. Actually, I heard my mother going at it one day, but alone. That is how I spied on her, and found out that she has a drawer full of toys. So, I used the details on the boxes to find toys out of curiosity. It was better than using my fingers, so I bought more, like the one you used on me last time."
I glare at the red haired when she says that. She has made the memories of her mischief come back to my mind. She is just too careless to feel repentant. She is even masochistic enough to try again, and enjoy again.
"Alright, stop looking at me like that. After three years, I'm experienced. Tell me what you want, and I will help you get it. Maybe you will want to try with Liz. Mom found out at some point, and she helps me when she can. She said that way, I will not stray into a wrong path out there out of teenage hormones and lust."
I'm already surprised when she brought out her number of years of experience. That means she started pleasuring herself since she was twelve, at least. It is surprising, and at the same time, not, at least with our generation fed with so much chaotic information.
But when she says that her mother has helped her sometimes, I'm flabbergasted, even though the logic is sound. It is actually such good logic that if it is implemented widely, the rates of early pregnancies will drastically fall, and teenage delinquency itself might retreat a few steps, at least for the female gender.
It is so right and so wrong at the same time that my mind spins for a moment to put the processed information in its place where it must be. And to do the same with Liz…