Yuki Tsukumo sits at a corner table, nursing a drink in the bar. Her eyes, usually so sharp and bright, are clouded with a mix of anger and despair. The flickering neon lights cast shadows that dance across her face, highlighting the turmoil within.

“I love her so bad, but she treats me like shit,” she mutters, more to herself than anyone else as she stares at her partner, mingling with the crowd, spreading her charm far and wide. Her fingers tap nervously on the table, betraying the tension she’s feeling.

Every laugh, every touch her girl flashes, feels like a dagger to Tsukumo’s heart. She takes another swig of her drink, trying to drown out the pain.