Sleeping With Men

Not that I would do this or condone it, but imagine a dog that was electrically shocked every time it barked. It would have stopped making noise, just like that. All this was to say that after several rounds of deflection, I completely gave up on vocalizing anything that would challenge Mamie’s mask.

At least I got to indulge in a romantic dream, and I wasn’t being shocked.

The next few days consisted of a trudge through this pseudo-situationship and a struggle to lock away the critical thoughts that dissected every tactic she used from the sexual arts playbook. Uncomfortable and shallow, that was how I felt about our interactions, but at least I was still spending time with her. Perhaps I should have stopped whining and started to be thankful for this remnant of the genuine connection we once had.

Another day of lectures passed, and Mamie gave me a cutesy wave before skipping to exit. Silently, I wagered that she would switch back to walking normally once she had gotten out of my sight. Right after Mamie crossed through the doorway, I received a text message as if the timing had been calculated.

A text from Uwabe-san. I leaned back in my seat, scanning around to make sure no one could see my screen. The loitering classmates were too busy chatting to even spare me a glance. Perfect.

For the record, I was less worried about leaking Uwabe-san’s true identity than someone catching a glimpse of whatever embarrassing message she had surely sent me.

Hey, Kuronuma-kun. You aren’t opposed to sleeping with men, right?

Yep, I was right.

But the joke was still on me, because after forty minutes and a few more texts from her, I stood in front of the Golden Bunny Palace. Kaede, the security guard I’d met last time, nodded at me and gestured for me to follow him.

While I was trailing behind the muscular man, my eyes wandered to the tattoos peeking out of his sleeves. My mind tried to recognize what they were, to decipher the incomprehensible patterns, but I only drew a blank. Nothing. The shapes were meaningless to me, and perhaps my current actions were just as difficult to understand. Did I obey Uwabe-san’s instructions because she held the key to rescind my expulsion? Or was it another type of desperation?

Unlike last time, Kaede led me through a hidden door behind the reception desk to what I assumed to be a staff-only area. Blue fluorescent lights lined the black passageways with a cool glow. Different from the extravagant halls where guests roamed, this bare-bones space screamed backstage, feeling as if I was peeking behind the curtains to a forbidden section.

After turning a few corners and climbing a flight of stairs, Kaede opened a door for me. He shut it once I entered the room, leaving me alone with the other person who was already inside.

In keeping with the clean corridors, the place I ended up in was organized into a neat layout. Not a single object out of place, and everything seemed to serve a purpose. A rack full of wrinkleless gowns, a dresser with makeup tools arranged in a line, and a square desk with only a laptop and a plastic folder on it. And the individual in the office chair, engrossed in typing on the computer, was a brunette woman in a sundress, exuding a familiar beauty.

“Excuse me… miss…” I bent down slightly to get closer to her eye level.

“Don’t tell me you can’t guess who I am,” the woman replied in a voice I recognized while her blue eyes stayed on the screen.

“I did have an idea, but since the room doesn’t look like it got ravaged by a gang of thieves. I thought…” I just knew that she was fuming inside, but she didn’t show it, truly worthy of the title of the Ace Maiden.

“It’s fine, since you recognize me now. Just don’t call me by my real name here.”

“Or you will sue me. Got it. So why am I here? You want me to stand and watch you type again?”

Uwabe-san lifted her hands off the keyboard and slammed the laptop shut. “Come on, sit first.” But there was only one seat in the room, and she was sitting on it. Far from a game of musical chairs, she pointed to the corner of her desk.

“Your office couldn’t afford another chair?”

“It’s either this or you sit on my lap.”

A lot of people would probably pay to sit on the Ace Maiden’s thighs. But after being forced to put up with her personality, I didn’t find her attractive anymore. Well, at least I didn’t want to give in to her beauty, so every time I looked at her face, I envisioned the unspeakable creature that I had seen in her apartment.

Oh, and of course, I chose to settle my ass on the cold, hard surface of the table.

“What’s with your expression… Never mind. Take a look at this file.” She stuffed the plastic file into my hand. After a quick skim, I’d gauged that the document was the profile of a client called Yoshida Hiroki.

“He just turned eighteen, so his parents hurried to book him a session here. Isn’t that kind of funny?” The Ace Maiden maintained the same vague smile, so I couldn’t tell if she really found it amusing.

“Why?”

“Well, because there’s a little something called the age of consent, although it was technically sixteen-”

“No, I meant why would his parents do this?”

“Oh? That’s even easier to explain. Hiroki here has depression. And you see, people would rather hire a prostitute than a therapist. A fascinating fact, but I digress. Back to the issue at hand, do you know what I want you to do?”

“You want me to serve him? But I’m not into men!”

“That’s not what you said earlier today when I asked you.”

“I didn’t answer your question!”

“Exactly. Omission is confirmation according to my understanding of tsunderes.”

What about her understanding of human decency? And she was literally just talking about the age of consent…

“Are you serious?”

“Just kidding. What really convinced me was the amount of BL porn you’ve consumed.”

My heart halted for a moment, before thumping with so much force that I thought my ribs would crack. “How… how do you know that?”

“I was just guessing. But anyway, as much as I want to put you in a maid’s dress, you won’t be the one serving him. You will just be in charge of asking him questions for the pre-session evaluation.” Uwabe-san winked at me while my mouth gaped rigidly, and I wondered whether my facial muscles had gone numb.

If I were to be arrested for murder one day, I knew who the victim would be.

After changing into a suit that was deemed ‘more appropriate’ by Uwabe-san, Kaede popped by again to bring me to the interview room. I took the seat across from Yoshida-kun, a bland-looking boy with messy black hair, tilted glasses, and dry skin that cracked at certain spots.

“Greetings, Yoshida-kun. We would ask you a few questions. Anything you answer will be strictly confidential and used in this session only,” I said with a professional tone. My eyes glanced at the one-way mirror and then back to the boy who was shifting in his seat.

“Okay,” he muttered with a barely audible volume.

Why did Uwabe-san ask me to interview this boy? They have plenty of staff here. What was her angle? My gaze surveyed the nervous boy, and from his downcast eyes and interlocking fingers, I was reminded of my last trip here. Even though I had masked it under Professor Silva’s teachings, I couldn’t deny my desperation.

Is he the same? Will this place give him what he needs? Did it give me what I need?

My eyelids fluttered as I was overwhelmed with the warm need to know. None of the questions on the prepared list would let me ask that, but still…

“Hiroki-kun, mind if I call you that?”

He jolted and looked at me, his face creased with surprise. “I… I guess it’s fine…”

“I know that we’ve just met, but I can see that you look like shit, if you don’t mind me being frank,” I said with a grin that I didn’t mean to put on. Great, now I sound like an asshole.

“Do I?”

“Yes, and you can tell me about what’s bothering you. Anything. I’ll listen.”

“But I don’t want to bother…” his eyes wandered away again as he uttered a sentence that faded towards the end.

“It’s my job to help you. No, that’s not exactly right. I want to help you.”

He clenched his fists. “Why?”

“Because you reminded me of someone I know. Just a little.” I chuckled for reasons I couldn’t comprehend, but it felt right nonetheless. Even though the air-conditioning was still in full blast, nothing but warmth flowed in my heart.

Hiroki-kun disclosed himself with timidity at first, cautious to only share the most superficial feelings. Eventually, he slowly opened up about the pressure he felt from his parents, the insecurity about his place in the world, and the uncertain future that awaited him after high school. I returned the favor, speaking a little about my high school experiences and how I tried to fill my void with sigma male books. Though I tried to be as sincere as I could, I still left out the parts about sex and the last week of trouble with Mamie.

By the time a staff knocked on our door, the frown etched on Hiroki-kun’s face had transformed into a wide smile. “Thank you, Kuronuma-senpai. What’s your contact info? I want to chat with you again.”

As I typed my number into his phone, I noticed that two hours had already slipped by. No one had interrupted us or prodded us to get back on track, even though Uwabe-san was for sure observing us through the dark glass that composed one of the walls. Before I could think too deeply about that, another, arguably more important thought surfaced:

Wait, will I be paid for this?