[STUDIO - STRUGGLE]

Masaru slams inside, and the sight gives him pause.

Valerie’s locked into position, held like a prize by a massive mosquito amalgamation. Its multiple hands contort her into increasingly flexible, sensual positions as it guides her like clay in the hands of a skilled potter.

“That’s right, Valerie,” The Manager, an older man with a hint of disgust in his voice, “that’s a good girl.”

Masaru feels the buzzing caress from hundreds of mosquitos all around him.

He collapses to the floor and rolls back and forth to get them off before taking back to his feet.

“Valerie!” he barks rushing up to get her but realizing he can’t move her without pausing long enough for him to be completely covered in mosquitos, nor can he grasp her body with such… limited clothing available. He can’t do this without any blood, so he jumps away and continues to evade.

A twinge of acknowledgment crosses Valerie’s blue eyes like a shooting star.

“Wake up, Valerie! They’re parasites! They’ll kill you!” he shouts as he looks for his next plan of attack.

The intercom labeled “father” clicks on to produce a gruff, irritated voice. “Don’t listen to that loser, mon chérie. This is the only way you can solve this problem. It’s your fault we didn’t have enough for your mother, after all.”

“Don’t listen to it, Valerie. It only sounds like your dad! It’s not rea-”

“I know,” Valerie sighs out weakly.

Masaru runs about the room as groups of the mosquito amalgamations attempt to restrain him. “Then… then why!?”

Her eyes are still in defeat as a camera shutter flashes, revealing her to be softer, slicker, and more beautiful than ever. It’s like the depiction of a goddess on the screen. No matter how pale she becomes, every following post just makes her look better.

“Because it is my fault, Masaru. My family couldn’t afford my dad’s debts because they had me,” she says with a cold, matter-of-fact tone. “It’s okay, though. This is the only thing I’m good for, anyway.”

“They’re drinking your blood!” Masaru shouts back.

“I know they are,” Valerie says back, almost a whisper. “At least I’m good for something. I can hold on this time. If I do… maybe I can pay off the debt.”

Masaru roars as he slams into one of the restraining mosquito men and splatters thousands of mosquitos against the wall… but there’s millions more. “You can’t be responsible for their decisions, Valerie!”

She allows herself to be posed grasping her breasts as she presses them around a carrot. The ears of her bunny hair band flop to the side a little as another release of camera shutters covers her in white. “How am I not responsible for that? They had me. And they didn’t hav-”

“You existing is not your responsibility! Understand, please! You’re a completely different person than this. This isn’t like you at all!”

“It’s fun, Masaru,” Valerie says, struggling to create a smile. “People around the world worship me, and I make so much money doing it.”

“That’s right, he’s jealous!” her father’s voice shouts. “Now, come on, mon chérie, more poses! Knock ‘em dead! I’ll be back to Vegas with this one!”

“That’s right,” The Manager says, “He couldn’t even keep you save in The Swamp, and yet you’re still listening to this deadbeat!”

“Be honest with yourself!” Masaru shouts as he tears around the studio, barely avoiding huge swarms of the pests as he gets nicked by the second. “Is this what you really want?!” he roars, his heart beating faster and more furiously by the second.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Masaru,” she says coldly. “This is what I am.”

“You won’t break free if you believe you’re responsible for this. You’re not! It was their choice to have you.”

She scoffs. “Sure, that’s on them, but I’m still here, so I have to do my part.”

“You are not born with responsibility, Valerie!”

She winces, her eyes not even flicking to look at him. “Yes, you are.”

Masaru has to run from corner to corner to prevent himself from being engulfed in the swarms rotating furiously around the room now – it’s like the entire building’s trying to drink his blood.

Finally, his rushing mind gets a thought. It’s more complicated than he thought it should be, but people aren’t always simple.

“No!” he roars as he dives over a couch to continue racing.

She smiles as she keeps her eyes down to her body. “No?”

“I refuse! If you believe you can be responsible just for being born, then by the same logic you can be responsible just for meeting me!”

The mosquitos buzzing reaches a fever pitch with that one, as if they can already tell where this is going.

The shooting star of thought from before becomes a shower of astral bodies soaring though the night sky of her eyes.

“I…” she scoffs, blinking in thought. “That’s stupid.”

“But am I wrong?!” he asks.

There’s a pause as she stops between two poses.

“…No, you’re not wrong,” she admits.

“Alright then!” Masaru shouts. “How about I just handle it all?”

“What do you mean,” Valerie asks with a dull tone.

“When we get out of this, you and I will solve it, together. If there’s any real debt, then I’ll be there with you!”

“It’s not my debt.”

“Then why are you paying it?!”

“Because I’m respon…”

Valerie pauses, and it’s like the shooting stars give way to a sunrise on her face. “It’s just… my dad kept acting like…” she stops herself, her eyes searching her body until her head slowly turns up. “But it’s not... that simple.”

“He’s been using you, but that’s over with!” Masaru shouts.

She freezes completely as the intercom speakers both crackle on to persuade her otherwise, but her thoughts have expanded out from their sexy, parasitic little scenario, and now she’s thinking about reality.

“…Yeah,” she agrees, “Even if I have the power to repay it all… it’s not really up to me at all, is it? They made me, but like you said, that was a random chance that had nothing to do with me… it was a random chance to meet you as well…”

“That’s right!” Masaru shouts as he makes a misstep and jolts to rid himself of the hundreds of mosquitos that landed on him in that second. “And from now on,” he pauses to make sure she’s looking him in the eyes. “I’m NOT sharing!”

As if a pulse of life cuts through her veins, redness returns to her face in a hot, radiant flush.

“M-Masaru…” she sighs out as he evades the endless swarm of parasites.

“Don’t listen to him, mon chérie!! That kind of love is a fairy tale!” her father’s voice says.

“Darling, beautiful! You’re about to hit the #1 trending spot! Don’t throw all this away for some deadbeat!” The Manager pleads.

“Masaru,” Valerie continues. “How do we get out?”

Masaru turns to the door, and realizes it’s been completely engulfed in mosquitos, packed in to prevent a second use. His pissed expression becomes even more so as his eyes spark with inspiration.

“Do you have a window in your bedroom?”

Her eyes sharpen. The person has returned.

Struggling up to her feet, Masaru only needs a semi second to tug a jacket off the coat rack, duck under her and put her arm over his shoulder. Using the jacket as an intermediary to help her, they run with all they have as the intercoms scream on: horrible threats, tears and weeping, the loss of such opportunities…

They break into her childhood bedroom, with a window tinted white to appear like day, waiting next to her pink bedsheets.

With everything he has left in him, Masaru piles his shoulder into the window, glazing his body in cuts. The two of them fly out into the dark of the wind, the legion of mosquitos peeling off them by the force of the breeze as they slam down into the ground.

The two lay there a moment, wearing almost nothing, in a quiet half-embrace.

The wind blows in a continual gust, protecting them from any small flying things that might emerge from their nice, safe studios.

She closes her eyes as the air chills her blood-drained body. “…You must think I’m such an idiot,” she sighs out.

“Actually, I just wish I could feel you. I’m cold as hell!” Masaru admits.

She gives him a look that he’s never seen on her face before. The two giggle for a moment, which contorts into a chuckle.

“And what the hell’s this thing under us!?” Masaru asks as he reaches under them, brushing his hand along the grass to discover her rifle. He shows it to her, and they flex out into explosive laughter.

“You… moron!” she sighs with a grin, pulling in for a kiss. He leans in to meet her, and their faces pass through one another.

They just lay there for a moment — relieved, shocked, and frustrated.

“Dammit all,” Masaru whispers.

“…Maybe next time,” Valerie says, tears forming in her eyes.

As the world around them begins to fade, something resembling the sunrise begins to peek over the horizon of a great grassy plain with only two houses.

“What’s wrong?” Masaru asks, focusing in on her to try and read her [RES] stat.

She smiles as a tear streams down her turned cheek. “I just… I’m really happy I met you… I never met someone… that believes in people like you do.”

Masaru smiles, and hugs Valerie as tightly as he can through her jacket.

He reads her stat as 69 out of 100.

“Nice,” Masaru says.

Valerie winces. “Huh?”

He shakes his head, inserting another pause before he continues.

“I…” Masaru clears his throat as he looks over to the rising, blurring sun. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Valerie. Even saying your name makes me so happy.”

She scoffs. “You are so cheesy.”

He grins as he keeps his gaze to the light. “Yeah. Very cheesy.”

They pause for a moment, and she sighs as she wriggles from his grasp to check her arm. She gasps, cuing him to look down to what she’s seeing. “That was it!” Valerie shouts, pointing at one of the four circles on her wrist, now filled-in. “Three more to go.”

Masaru’s gaze alights at the sight of her success. “So that’s it for real, then. It’s a change of mind.”

“What?”

He squints at it like an instruction manual as the world around them waves out like a mirage. “It’s simple. It’s really too simple. Each world represents something from our past. Something holding us back. Something sabotaging us.”

She nods. “Sure, that much is clear, but how do we figure it out?”

Masaru’s eyes glint with determination. “We take the whole crew along.”

Valerie flinches as the world dies out into a whisper. “What?!”

“Trust me,” Masaru says as flexes his fingers to stroke her jacket, but finding nothing. “Meet you back at the lobby.”

“O-okay!” she bleats the moment before they’re cut off.

Masaru hears the cicadas.

Jolting, he moves to get up and face his enemy, but he’s still too slow. The knife moves fast, and Masaru’s back on the ground.

“F***ing bastard,” he snaps at the figure, who just looms over him as the drowning overtakes him.

“I know your game, now,” Masaru says with a grin as he fades out into the white halls of the hospital.