3:41 a.m. – Three customers later
The backstage door creaked softly as Lyra pushed it open. She staggered more than she walked. The bunny suit was only half pulled up, her makeup smeared, her eyes empty.
In the flickering light the room looked even more desolate than before, like it was reserved for broken Bunnygirls. The place was empty, except for Hana, sitting on the bench at the side. Her legs were pulled up, her head lowered. She didn't even look like someone who cared about winning the bet.
She was trying to twist open a small bottle of umeshu with just one finger, as if the fate of the world, or at least her night, depended on it.
Lyra dropped into the chair at the makeup table, her body heavier than it should've been. Her movements sluggish, stripped of the grace she'd had before.
For a moment, no one said a word.
Only the fan coughed above them while Hana kept stubbornly fighting the bottle. Lyra stared at her own reflection, then looked away, unable to bear it.
Eventually Hana lifted her head, not much, but enough for Lyra to catch her gaze in the mirror. Neither of them had the energy for a snide remark.
"How was yours tonight?" Hana finally asked, her voice flat, carried only by bitter exhaustion.
Lyra laughed.
Not the kind of laugh anyone wanted to hear.
"Same as always," she rasped.
"A fucking dream."
Hana started to rise, then stopped halfway and glanced toward her again.
"The tear on your cheek too?"
Lyra blinked slowly, then a crooked, broken grin tugged at her lips. She wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand—too rough, as if to crush the tear itself.
"Stop talking nonsense," she muttered, more sluggish than spiteful, shuffling a few steps away and disappearing around the corner where she always changed.
"Ever sweated before, Hana?... Thought so," her voice came half-sharp from behind the wall.
Lyra peeled off the costume, and somehow it felt like shedding more than just fabric.
Hana exhaled softly through her nose, eyes dropping back to the bottle in her hand. Under her breath, barely audible, she murmured to herself.
"Nevermind then, I guess."
At last she twisted the cap free and took a drink, as if it was the last thing she still had control over. After draining a quarter of the bottle, her tongue loosened enough to speak.
"Kinda funny how big-shot Lyra hides while changing… heheheh."
Lyra ignored it, putting on her regular clothes. She stuffed the sweat-soaked suit into a plastic bag, then into her sports bag.
With the strap over her shoulder, she came back to find Hana still giggling over her own line like a broken robot—until the laughter sputtered out.
"Hella cute," Hana grinned, half genuine, half wrecked.
"Mhm. Stay cute or die trying," Lyra muttered sarcastically, heading for the door. She didn't look at Hana. Didn't hear the words she mumbled next. In her head, there was only static.
At the threshold she paused once.
"Congrats on the win. Enjoy it."
Then she was gone.
Hana sat alone, bottle half-empty in her hand. The echo of Lyra's footsteps faded down the hall, and suddenly the dressing room felt huge and hollow. A few meaningless minutes passed.
She took another swig and leaned back against the wall. Her head felt heavy, but the alcohol made it lighter, just a little.
"So, how was your night, cutie?"
Hana looked up, and smiled for the first time in hours. A real one. Nozomi stood in the doorway, wide black pants, a fitted cream-colored top. She'd swapped her high heels for white sneakers, but somehow she still looked elegant.
"Nozomi!" Hana straightened. "Thought you'd already left."
"And leave you here alone? Never." Nozomi came over and sat beside her on the bench. "Besides, I still owe you some praise. That guy in the anime shirt was absolutely smitten with you."
Hana chuckled. "He was the only sweet one tonight. Told me I reminded him of his waifu."
"Oh God." Nozomi burst out laughing. "Which one?"
"Mai Sakurajima. From Bunny Girl Senpai." Hana grinned crookedly, pointing at her chest. "'Cause of the dark hair and the big… well, you know. Real original."
"Of course." They both laughed, and Nozomi nudged Hana playfully. "You really attract all the otakus."
"My curse and my blessing." Hana handed her the bottle. "Want some?"
"Sure." Nozomi took a sip, then grimaced. "Ugh, how do you drink that stuff straight?"
"Practice." Hana smirked. "Lots of practice."
Nozomi gave the bottle back and leaned against her. Her gaze shifted from the bottle to Hana's face. "How are you really? You look tired."
"I am." Hana sighed. "Lyra's been on my nerves all night. All this competition bullshit…"
"She doesn't mean it badly, you know. She's just… complicated."
"Complicated's a nice way to put it." Hana laughed dryly. "But whatever. Tomorrow's a new day. New clients, new money."
"That's the spirit." Nozomi stood and pressed a quick kiss to Hana's forehead. "Go home soon, okay? You need sleep."
"Yes, mom." Hana grinned. "I will."
Nozomi rolled her eyes but smiled. She was already used to Hana calling her that whenever she worried.
"Good. I've got to run—Rudi'll be here any minute, and he'll want the numbers." At the door, she turned once more. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks, Nozomi."
"Always, sweetheart."
Nozomi disappeared toward the offices, and Hana packed her things. The bottle was nearly empty anyway.
⋯───⋱───⋯──⋱───⋯──⋱───⋯
4:07 a.m.
While Lyra and Hana were already on their way home, Rudi stomped down the narrow hall toward the offices.
The bass from the main floor still vibrated through the walls, but back here it was quieter. Businesslike.
The light in Nozomi's office was still on. Nozomi Takamura—once his most valuable Prestige Diamond, making more money than three other Bunnygirls combined. At thirty-five, she was too old for cages and stages, even if she still looked like a goddess. Now she was his right hand, running the books, knowing every number, every trick, every dirty secret of his girls. In some ways, the old slut was even more valuable than she'd ever been on stage.
He didn't knock. Rudi never knocked.
"Nozomi."
She sat behind her small desk, the day's accounts neatly spread before her. The bluish light of the computer made her light-blue hair shimmer as her fingers danced elegantly across the keyboard.
"Rudi-kun," she purred, looking at him warmly. "Calling it a night already, big boss?"
He dropped into the chair opposite her. It creaked under his weight.
"How's it lookin'?"
Nozomi smiled, that sweet, knowing smile she had perfected. "Tonight was a good one." She tapped the screen. "Especially for our two Prestige Diamonds."
"The two of 'em were scrapin' again," Rudi grunted, rubbing his eyes. "Bet shit or somethin'."
"Mmmh, I know." Nozomi leaned back, eyes flicking over the numbers. "But look at this. Both had four clients tonight. Hana: 200,000 yen. Lyra: the same."
Rudi's eyes glinted like his gold chains. "Fuck, those girls're goldmines."
"Prestige Diamond, after all." Nozomi clicked through the spreadsheets, her nails clacking softly on the mouse. "Our regular Diamonds barely hit 50,000 a night. Take Himari—she's good, no doubt, but…"
"But she ain't S-tier material," Rudi finished with a snort.
"Exactly." Nozomi nodded, tapping thoughtfully on the screen. "Asaki, though…" A sly sparkle in her eyes. "She's making progress. 65.000 yesterday. Already more than the other Diamonds."
Rudi leaned forward, intrigued. "For real?"
"See for yourself." She turned the monitor toward him. "The regulars like Asaki. But she's still got room to grow."
Her tone shifted. "But you should give Hana and Lyra a break. They're running on fumes. Especially Hana… she's drinking too much."
"Hah!" Rudi barked, his belly shaking. "Let her drink. Long as she brings in cash."
Nozomi swallowed the remark. Her smile stiffened a notch, but she said nothing.
"Yuyu…" Rudi scratched at the stubble on his chin. "That little imouto act's workin', right?"
"Solid 35.000 a shift. Not bad for Gold tier, but not insane either." Nozomi clicked on. "The Silvers like Mio are pulling twenty to twenty-five. But Mio's got potential. Her roleplay skills are improving. Give her a few more clients and we could bump her to Gold."
Rudi's eyes glittered above a crooked grin.
"Then we can sell her as Gold early, and let her find out later. Hahaha."
Before Nozomi could scold him, he was already on to the next question.
"And the debut sluts?"
Nozomi sighed lightly. "Riri's doing well for a rookie. 15.000 yesterday, 18.000 today." Then she smiled. "I gave her a few tips. That sweet cosplay thing hooks the otakus."
"You're a pro," Rudi noted.
Nozomi giggled, cheeks flushing faintly. Then Rudi spoke again.
"Oh, and…"
"Hm?"
"Ya heard anythin' from Tsusu?" he asked, almost concerned. "Takeshi's been askin' again."
Nozomi shook her head. "That kind of sickness doesn't vanish in a week. But she messaged me, said she'll be back soon."
"Right." Rudi scratched his head. "Gotta come up with somethin' for the client. Can't lose him."
Nozomi nodded, clicking into another window. "Asaki definitely has potential, but…" Her voice sharpened. "It's too early to promote her. Let her prove it wasn't just luck."
"True." Rudi rubbed his forehead.
"But she's developing fast. I didn't make her my personal trainee for nothing…" Nozomi's smile turned sharper. "In a few months, she could be Prestige Diamond material."
"And then?" Rudi asked.
"Then…" Her hand slid across the table, briefly covering his. "Then Hana and Lyra could finally get a break. Once Asaki's promoted, you'll have three strong girls instead of two." Her tone sweetened again. "And three Prestige Diamonds would pull in 600.000 yen a night. That's more than all the other tiers combined."
Rudi stared at the numbers. Six hundred thousand. A night.
"Fuck me…" he muttered.
"Gladly," Nozomi breathed, winking.
He laughed rough. "You sexy bitch."
"Your sexy bitch," she corrected, leaning back. "And as your old sexy bitch, I'm telling you: wait and see how Asaki grows. But Hana and Lyra… they need a day off."
Rudi stood, stretching, joints popping. "They can fuck themselves. Business is business."
"Mhm." Nozomi saved the files. "Keep your eye on Asaki. And think about our top girls."
"Yeah, yeah." He pointed at her. "You handle it. You're better at talkin' nice than me."
Nozomi smiled—the sweet, innocent smile of a woman who knew exactly how to wrap men around her finger.
"Of course, Rudi-kun. Leave it to me."
She stood up and kissed his forehead lightly. "Head on home, handsome."
As he reached the door, she called after him: "Oh, Rudi?"
He turned. "The new girl, Vanilla—she keeps asking about Choca. Maybe we should pair them more often. As a team, they'd earn more."
Rudi grunted his approval. "Later, babe." Then he disappeared down the hall.
Nozomi was left alone. The glow of the computer cast shadows across her face. She typed in a few more numbers, then leaned back, smiling into the dark.
Hana and Lyra would break sooner or later if Rudi kept this up. But that wasn't her problem. Her problem was keeping the business alive. Always.
The screen flickered once more, then the office went dark.