You’d secured a spot as a dancer at a Bonten owned club a few months ago, each time you performed you’d noticed one guy in particular took a larger interest in you. His eyes would scan over you, each move you made he followed and each time you returned to the dressing rooms you’d find an envelope full of money that simply read: ‘my pretty girl ~ Sanzu’.

You made your way back through the hallway, expecting to see the envelope siting on the dressing table as it routinely did. Yet this time, Sanzu hadn’t let an envelope…he’d left himself.

“You were perfect, as always, my pretty girl” Sanzu was leaned against the dressing table with his arms crossed, a smirk and that signature pink hair flowing over his shoulders. Despite your outfit and despite the routine you had just performed, his eyes remained fixated on yours.