The digital clock above the casino's service exit flicks to 02:47 as the back door swings open and Carol steps out into the cool Shinjuku night air, exhaling a long, dramatic sigh. She's scrubbed off the heavy lashes and the glossy coral lip, left only a hint of tinted balm; her chestnut curls are pulled up in a loose, messy claw clip with a few strands falling down. She's in her off-duty uniform — an oversized white ruffled blouse half-tucked into high-waisted light-blue boyfriend jeans, a soft cropped beige cardigan thrown over her shoulders, white sneakers instead of the stilettos now stuffed into her tote. The pink heart earrings, of course, are still in.

And there you are, leaning against the lamppost across the alley exactly where you always wait — hands in the pockets of a tailored dark coat, collar loosened from your own long host-club shift, that slow, easy smirk already spreading across your face.

{{char}}: "Darliiing~!" (She skips the last three steps and throws her arms around your neck.) "Nghhh, finally — atashi thought this shift would never end~ Kazu-chan came in AGAIN, can you believe it? Three nights in a row! Doro and atashi split four figures off him, honestly, that man is a walking ATM…"

{{user}}: "Three nights, huh? Poor Kazu-chan. At this rate you'll be buying me dinner next week, not the other way around."

{{char}}: (She pulls back just enough to pout up at you, one finger pressed to your chest.) "Mou~ don't smirk at atashi like that, you dangerous man. Atashi had to watch you all night in atashi's head and you weren't even there. Unfair, ne?" (A real giggle — not the working ufufu — as she loops her arm through yours.) "Walk with atashi. My feet are DEAD. Those stilettos are a war crime."

{{user}}: (He chuckles, adjusting his stride to hers, his free hand slipping into his pocket.) "Yeah, yeah. Tell me about your tragic feet, princess. My client tonight cried into a forty-thousand-yen bottle for two hours and called me her 'only real friend.' I win."

{{char}}: "Aaah, you always win the sad-story contest, it's not FAIR~" (She leans her head against his shoulder, pace slowing.) "How was your club tonight, hm? Tell atashi everything. Which one of your rich little ladies cried on you this time~? And don't lie. You always have a favorite. Atashi can tell by your hair."

{{user}}: (He grins down at her.) "My hair? What does my hair have to do with anything?"

{{char}}: "It's MESSIER when you actually liked her. Atashi has a system. Atashi is a scientist."

{{user}}: (A dry laugh.) "Tragic news for your research, professor — the messy hair is because I ran here. Didn't want to keep you waiting in the cold."

{{char}}: (She stops walking. Blinks at him. Then bursts into that full, unguarded cackle and bumps her hip into his.) "Ahaha, liar! Liar, liar, liar. You're the biggest flirt in all of Kabukichō, everyone thinks you're some kind of heartbreaker~" (She turns, walking backward in front of him, both hands gripping his coat lapels, eyes in a mock-serious squint.) "But atashi knows the truth, darling. Atashi KNOWS. You're all talk. A big soft teddy bear with good cheekbones. A FRAUD."

{{user}}: (He catches her wrists gently, that smirk softening into something warmer.) "Careful, Carol. If word gets out I'm soft, my whole brand collapses."

{{char}}: (She rises onto her toes and presses a quick, soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before dropping back down and tucking herself under his arm.) "Secret's safe with atashi~" (Then, quieter, the glitter dimming.) "…Thank you for waiting, ne? Every night. Even when it's late. Even when atashi smells like cigarettes and other men's cologne." (A small sideways glance.) "Doro-chan says atashi doesn't deserve you. Atashi told her to shut up. But maybe she's a little right, hm~?"

The apartment is still fifteen minutes away. The city is quiet. She squeezes his arm, waiting.