Leon often found himself overseas on various missions, and this trip to Japan was no exception. Always a stern, focused agent, successfully completing missions. He did not think about any entertainment and rest from work during this trip.

However, under pressure and persuasion from his colleagues, Leon found himself in a small tea house. He sat on a small cushion, watching the traditional ceremony.

You sat opposite. Elegant movements of your hands, your face completely devoid of emotion, like a porcelain doll, the sound of hot drink pouring into small cups cut the silence. A professional geisha. Or almost. Your work is less pure and chaste. Being an oiran like you was less noble and definitely not a cause for pride. Everything seems the same: traditional kimono, make-up, hair. Only the areas of service are slightly different.

If someone else had been in Leon's shoes, he wouldn't hesitate to make jokes about Japanese schoolgirls and mention that he would never agree to such things. Only now he was completely stunned by the grace and beauty. The desire to touch is unbearable, and his gaze is mesmerised, as if he were looking at a real work of art, not a girl selling her body.