Chapter Text
Atsushi was always a sinner. The orphanage made that part clear when he was able to understand those words, and they never got tired of bringing the subject. It was so common that it was something they couldn't live a day without, like drinking water or blinking. He was always different. With demon eyes, useless fangs, and a streak of black hair no one liked. He was a sinner and he knew it. He just couldn’t remember what he had done to become one.
He was punished by his sins in many ways. Weeks without the light of sun, food being present only in his dreams and with everyone around him being disgusted by his presence. When he finally reached a certain age, they expelled him and didn’t even look back. He was now alone, no parents, no friends and god left him since the day he betrayed his trust.
On the streets, he learned 3 things. The first one was when he tried to get a job, and left the interview without one tooth and blood in his face. People don’t tend to hire kids, neither play with charity intentions. The weak must fall if they are no longer useful.
The second one that he learned while hiding in a trash can was that it’s dangerous to not have a place to stay.He saw cruel things—things he’d never forget—while pressed against rotting garbage. Desperate people will do anything for a drop of comfort. Even Atsushi chose to save money for shelter rather than food. Starvation was awful…
But sleeping in the dark, without a roof, was even worse.
One night, someone almost stabbed him while he searched for a safe corner. All he remembered was a tiger. The tiger.
A blur.
Then darkness.
Probably because he passed out from hunger.
And finally, what was the most important of all was that…
“Tell me, you know how to read?”
“Yes sir. I also know how to steal and point with a gun.” He said, trying to ignore his nerves. The sensation of this being a bad decision itched his skin. But he was desperate, he needed this job.
“Mmh…You are polite, you have a good body and your eyes are very attractive. You have a calm voice, and your face is like a kitty under rain, which is what some clients might like. We would need to make a change on the haircut but…- He started analyzing him as if he was a doll, while sweat covered his face. -Ok champ, you are hired. You start tomorrow, we will give you the clothes here.”
…The third one was that he was weak. The weak cannot be alive unless they give themselves a purpose, and there is a way to win money. He was already a sinner, he was being chased by a tiger and had to move from place to place, and he needed to pay rent.
That day was the day Atsushi lost his dignity, and decided to use what was on his hand.
The red district was one of the main points in Tokyo, near Akihabara. The “Host Clubs” were legal in Japan even though prostitution wasn’t. It was a job that was not sexual but that was not far from it. People paid for being listened to, being loved or having a good time.
“There are three main rules with this business. First one is that you have to behave. Clients pay for what you can do. If they don’t pay that much, you are not allowed to physically touch them, or it can be that if they paid, you cannot refuse if they want some love. This is not in discussion, you must follow what they paid before. The second one is that you have to follow your diet and be careful with your body. And finally, this is now your life. You are now working here, so you will have to be able ALWAYS no matter what.”
Atsushi learned fast what was important. Some people were more confident in some circumstances…
Some days he used informal clothes and had a talk about university with a student. Other days he used a skirt and fixed his hair with someone that wanted a date. Sometimes he had to make jokes with someone to laugh about. Other times he had to just stay in silence. The point was gaining money by being with someone.
And he felt conflicted about it.
Some days hurted because the person just left him without being interested in him or when he had actually had a great time but then had to say goodbye. Some days he hated people that came complaining about slow service with their workers. Some days he had 5 minutes of not smiling all day and feeling death inside before someone arrived. But then…
“And you are my angel Atsu-chan. I have no friends, but you are the most kind person I have seen in a while.” The woman cried on his shoulders, while he hugged her.
He was selfish.
“My husband is even more and more depressed and I am not enough. He is not the same, he has changed because of his stupid job and now I feel so…Hopeless.” She continued. He caressed her back, trying to give her all the physical touch he was allowed.
“Mina-chan… As someone that is not living in your situation, I might be wrong, but I understand this must be hard for you.” He said, calmly, while letting her cry. “In love, there are situations where we might not be the light. But you can always be there for him. You love him?”
“Of course I do!”
“Then you can be with him when he is lost. Love is about doing things together, right? It’s called being there through thick and thin.”
Dressed as a girl, he was friend from Mina, where she paid every Tuesday just to be with him. She didn’t know even his gender or his favorite color, however, she never forgot their meetings.
“Y-You are alright. I should be with him… Atsu-chan… Thank you.”
“I’ll always be here if you want.” He said, while dedicating a genuine smile.
He was selfish. He convinced himself that the Atsushi that they met in their time was not that bad. That even though he was somehow selling himself, he wasn’t that terrible. That he was loved.
Even though it was not all in.
When he stupidly shared the thought with his boss, he was replied with a monotone voice.
“It comes with the job. Why are you here if not so?”
He never shared those thoughts again.
The tiger still appeared, but was not that aggressive now. He supposed because he finally decided to chaise somebody else, or he found someone with more food that what he had in.
Time passed, and now he had an apartment. He was not dying , even though he didn’t eat that much because of having the body that was necessary for the job. His chest sometimes hurted because of seeing clients getting bent just to share time with him, but then he realized that those thoughts were not useful. When he smiled, people was happy. When he listened, people were happy. People were not disgusted with him. People appreciated being with him.
He…Felt loved.
Or at least near to that sensation.
He was useful. He now could help people even though he was tired because they were 12 hours of job with short breaks. He was a memory that people would remember. Even if sometimes he had to restrict himself from hugging the person in front of him because they didn’t payed enough. Even though he wanted to cry because it was an exaggeration of physical contact.
He was now given a raise.
His life was never as good as it was right now. He couldn’t ask for more.
(Because you don’t deserve more, a voice whispered in his ear)
Until that day.
One client, an extremely wealthy businessman, came to the Host Club. First they had a meeting, when the man just talked about how stressful having a business when nobody was good enough. Atsushi listened, with a smile, trying to maintain his polite demeanor, even though the day had drained him
“...You are so pretty and polite, Atsushi-kun. I now comprehend why they call you the angel of this place.” He suddenly said, as he sipped his drink casually.
“I appreciate the compliment sir. It is really good for us to have you here.” He responded.
“You know? It has been boring my life. Sometimes I wish I could have more of…You know, spicy and relaxing moments.” He continued, getting closer to him.
“It surely might. But that’s life, isn’t it? And I think that you can get what you want if you try hard.” With a smile, he didn’t lose his composure.
“You are right. You are truly a god’s gift.” The hand touching his cheek gave him chills, but even if he felt like something was wrong with that, there was a part that felt appreciated. He felt like he was compensating his sins with it.
“You think so? Then I am relief. You are very skilled with words.” He fed the man’s ego.
“Oh, you flatter me. Hey Atsushi-chan, what is the limit I have paid?” He suddenly asked.
“That is something you might want to discuss with my boss. For now, I am just here to pass time and make you feel satisfied with it.” He smiled.
“Dollface, but I am not satisfied. I want to have more time with you.” The man caressed his back, almost getting more and more low, while Atsushi hardened with shock. Even though there were clients that insinuated to him, nothing more. It was the red district, what did he expect? But this man, in particular, felt odd. Not odd, wrong. What he recognized was fear insulated in his throat, as he looked at the man with wild eyes.
“As much as I appreciate that you like me, we do not have that type of service. If you want that service, we could recommend some places to you.” He still smiled, he needed to smile. But behind the calm curve of his lips, every nerve in his body had started to scream.
He felt his heartbeat in his throat. He didn't want to be here anymore.
“But I just want you, my angel. Let’s not ruin the moment with rules, shall we?”
“Your time is almost finished.”
“It doesn’t matter, I'll pay for more.”
“Didn’t you have a meeting after this?” The man, making a pout as he finally wasn’t touching him. Atsushi relief felt like going to heaven, and finally, he left his work.
He stumbled into his apartment, tired to the bone but knowing he had had to wash it all away. After taking a bath, he looked at the mirror. His hair now had a better style, his face was finally without make up, and his thin body was healthier than not eating anything. And somehow, he still felt fake. Apart from what he used to be but not being something real now.
Or maybe he was overthinking it. Yeah, surely. He needed to sleep.
He prepared his futon, and practically fell in it. The weight of the blankets embraced him, going to a state between the thin line of being conscious or asleep.
But sounds coming from the kitchen woke him up.
“Uh? Who is there.” Walking like a zombie, he went to the light switch. But before he even could see, a hand embraced him with strength as he felt a needle in his neck.
“Shhhh, my angel, I’m finally here.” The voice of the beast injected him something, as his panic increased. Why was him on his house? Why him?!
But he was now too gone to do anything about it.
He remembered vaguely the hands in his thighs, while the tears and screams drowned by a hand was enough to turn him too weak to escape. He remembered the pain, the laughter as the man used him without an ounce of compassion. The blood painted his futon while he was left as a broken doll. He saw the man just take his jacket and smiled when his eyes were the only thing he could move.
“You know? I am satisfied now, I might go here another time. I thought you were an angel, but look how dirty you are now… I think you might not have a place into heaven. God must be disgusted.” He laughed, and left him with no more words.
He does not remember too well what his reaction was after that. Did he cry? Did he scream? Was he still too drugged to process it? It felt like he was underwater, watching time pass through a haze. His thoughts felt numb, as if he forgot his own existence. After hours, finally, his body was less cold, less dead. With trembling legs covered in blood, he finally stood up to take another bath. The sensation of bile rising in his throat was present even when he washed his lips with soap, tasting his taste in the process. He rubbed his skin until it ended up almost red, and his eyes finally were able to release drops of water. He smiled, laughing firstly with a rough voice and then feeling like tearing his neck because of the cough. He felt sick washing the blood that reached his feet, taking care to try to not make the injury worse. He stared at the water. It wasn’t red anymore, but he still saw it. His hands were clean at the point they were wrinkled by water, but they still felt touched.
When he got out, even though he washed as far as he could, he was still dirty.
He was touched and not fixed in his own apartment.
“...The blood must have been hard to clean.” Was his boss answer.
“W-What do you mean. I told you someone literally r-rape me and you just came up with that?!”
“It was not a rape.”
“Then what was it!? He drugged me and touched me!” He was almost screaming, with tears in his eyes.
“He offered a good amount of money, I couldn’t refuse it. The thing was that you already ended your shift, and he wanted it at that moment. I couldn’t keep him waiting, you know?” With a cigarette in his hands, he just expelled the smoke from his mouth, with indifference.
Seconds passed, while Atsushi tried to process the words said by his boss. He denied it. It couldn't be true…
“...You gave him my direction? You permitted him to touch me?” With shocked eyes, he just saw his boss give another puff on his cigar.
“Well, yeah. He paid for it, so I gave it to him.- “It” as if he was not a person. -Besides, it was not rape. How could it be counted as it if you were fine with it?”
“...What?”
“Yes, the third rule. You are now working here, so you will have to be able ALWAYS no matter what. Even if it is out of your shift. And you didn’t fight back, congratulations. That’s good enough for them.”
The weight of the words made him feel in the abyss. So that was it? So he couldn’t do anything to combat it? He would be dirty forever?
And he finally understood what situation he was in.
“I am satisfied now, I might go here another time.” If he paid again, he would come. He had nobody were he could find a safe place. If he refused, they surely would drag him again because he was indispensable in the business. And if he asked for help, nobody would help him; he was everyone's helper, but a pastime to everyone else.
He was a sinner. He had food on his stomach and he still vomited when he remembered his reality. He had a job where he had everything, love, fame, and he still was fleeing. He had a home, a place for himself and he still ran. He left, there was no sign of Atsushi in that place anymore. With suitcases in one hand, the other had a pass to train to whatever place he could go. He was ungrateful with the life he had now.
He didn’t know what he was anymore apart from that. But he knew—he didn’t want to be this.
He stayed in a cheap motel for days with the fear that somebody was looking for him. The food started to become scarce, but the fear in his veins was even more paralyzing. The tiger was back, stalking him even under the light of the moon. But what was more terrifying was the hands. Hands under the sheets, laughs and noises in the other rooms similar to that night. Maybe hiding in a motel was not a good idea, but it was safer than a hotel or rented apartment.
He was in danger in every damn place.
After two weeks, he finally went to the market to buy food. He needed money, but he didn’t know where to look for a job. His work history didn’t say very good things, and there was a chance he’d be recommended to another place like that, and… He didn’t want to work in that place again.
When he went back to the motel, he sat and looked at the newspaper, searching for a job. He tried to read—he really did—but then came the noises from the other rooms: backshots, and hands started to travel for his body…
He needed fresh air.
He left the motel, the paper clenched in his right hand, walking towards the streets. Yokohama was beautiful, it had a different beauty compared with Tokyo. Landscapes were more traditional, even the river looked pretty with the sunset welcoming the night.
The river was quiet. He could read the paper here.
He sat, with the calm wind combing his hair occasionally. The sound of some people passing, like a motorcycle or the army, even though it could distract him, was something that reminded him he was real. The contrast suddenly made him feel how tired he was. With the nightmares of him, sounds and the tiger, he couldn’t catch a lot of sleep. But now, he was now more near to what was called peace. He felt more safe here than in any other place, the power of Yokohama, he thought.
When he was almost falling asleep, a sound suddenly woke him up.
He looked up at the river, saw bubbles.
“W-What?” He rubbed his eyes, not being sure if he was seeing it right. But the person was still there, and he was…
Oh god.
When he processed his actions, he had already coughed water and almost vomit because of the time he was under water. The person was breathing, fortunately.
The person -a man with brown hair and a brush coat- finally opened his eyes, as he composed himself.
“I’m alive… Dammit.”
What?