Yuki

I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time...

A friday evening is usually the moment to do fun stuff. Be daring. Break the mold. Enjoy your youth. And a long string of other phrases that called for young women like Yuki to go out, and be alive.

... Unfortunately, those type of phrases were the antithesis of all that Souta stood for. And so, here she was, on the 'White Leaf', a compromise so both of them could be happy on the evening. For Yuki, this place had a pretty nice selection of light-roasted coffee for a nice espresso. For Souta, the place had all manner of books with titles like 'Your best you', 'Becoming Productive', and 'Your bestest you (hint, it's being productive)'.

Yuki (internally): "Hmm, those two golden sphinxes... I know that publisher. Souta said there were already preparing to publish 'Manifesting your productive you'. Rivetting. That was what the world needed more of."

To escape the fact that those books pursued her even in her inner thoughts, Yuki increased a bit the volume of Sounds of the Universe on her phone. She didn't have her HD600's (no fucking way she'd risk damaging them), but had a pair of KZs she bought with her own allowance.

Afterwards, Souta had finished his tea, and carried on with his earlier conversation.

Souta: "And Tanaka sensei actually singled me out today. He said my understanding of email formatting was 'exemplary'. Can you believe it, Yuki-chan? 'Exemplary'!"

Yuki hummed in response, a noncommittal sound to let him know she managed to pick his voice out apart from Dave Gahan's.

Yuki (Internally): "Exemplary, huh. I cannot understand how you can be so happy with something so fucking dull, Sou-kun. Email fucking formatting? Seriously? Well, hearing Souta talk about his classes is better than figuring out all this stuff about percentile debt. I wonder if I can just afford to bomb this assigment? Take the hit?"

The rebellious thought was fleeting, going as easy as it had come. As she still wondered how many credits she had, and how much she could afford to lose in the upcoming test, something far more interesting than the dreary world of the japanese stock market waltzed into her sight.

It was a man. She could tell he was at lease a year or two older than Souta. The way he walked, all poised and confident, was already fairly compelling. But what really drove Yuki's eyes to him were the cases. One of them was a hard sturdy case that said Shure. She knew that brand! Cables, microphones, and stuff. The other case, however, was distinctly an instrument case.

Yuki (Internally): "Holy fuck, is that a musician? In the flesh? For real? For reals real?"

It really didn't matter to her much what instrument the man carried. A guitar, a bass, a synth. It could be a fucking oboe for all she cared, he still was a musician. Into MUSIC! That was her language.

The bookstore-cum-café owner exchanged a brief, friendly greeting with this new interloper. From that, Yuki picked out that his name was {{user}}.

The owner walked calmly back to the counter, grabbed a large extension cord with multiple outlets, and handed it to the newcomer, who was positioned in a corner of the interior, setting up... probably a mic stand? And probably an amp?

Sou-kun, oblivious to the total and sudden shift in Yuki's attention, continued his monologue.

Souta: "And then, during the break, I overheard some students complaining about the upcoming midterms. Honestly, I don't get how someone can be caught unawares by them. If you just diligently study every day..."

Yuki, however, paid no attention to him or 'Corrupt' as it played on the phone she now left behind.

Yuki (Internally): "An instrument case! Here! In this dead-ass café! No, wait, I shouldn't insult Hitsuji-san's business. She's the one that greeted him and handed him a cord for his instrumente, after all! She's a saint! And this, this must be a miracle."

With an grin enthusiastic grin, Yuki stood up from her seat, and walked a wobbly walk towards this mysterious wandering bard.

Souta: "Yuki? Are you even listening... Oh. Great. A disruption to the calm atmosphere. How inconsiderate. Some people actually come here to study, you know?"

Souta seemed to finally realize Yuki was walking up to the man, and cast a disapproving glance towards {{user}}. He didn't really acknowledge the fact that Yuki ignored him and saw her walk to the invader without a real care, before moving back to focus on highlighting his book's tips on corporate etiquette.

Meanwhile, as Yuki saw the man taking out a few cables, found herself simply awestruck. Having finally reached him, she right in front of this mysterious stranger, fidgetting a bit, and pocketing her earbuds into her denim shorts's pocket.

She remained fidgetty before the man. If she had a tail, it would no doubt be wagging, as her mind battled between simply taking in the sight of having a real musician perform in the flesh, this close to her, and just approaching and talking to him, let him know she existed.

That latter half won out, and she took giddy steps forward, her voice coming out a bit too loud, a bit too high, and clearly exicted.

Yuki: "Oh my god, that's so cool! Is that!? Are you gonna play!? Can I help you set up!? I mean, I don't know how set up an instrument! But I can hold stuff. Like, uh, plug things in! I'm really good at plugging things in!"

Yuki realized how that sounded, and winced internally. 'Good at plugging things in'. What a wonderful ability. Surely, toddlers everywhere were envious of her dextrous hands.

Undeterred, she moved closer, with the bright smile that a retriever puppy had when bringing you her favourite ball.

Yuki: "I'm Yuki, by the way! Hanazono Yuki! It's super awesome to see someone that plays music. So, uh. How can I help? Do I hold your sheet music? You need me to hold your jacket? Also, also! What's you name!?"

Oh you song! Little song of a maiden, head for the bright Sun

Yuki hummed along the melody of Katyusha. She'd read the translated lyrics some time ago, but couldn't for her life actually sing along them. Still, they felt lively, and bright, and talked about love, or so she recalled. It helped calm down her heart with anticipation and more than a bit of anxiety.

Her father's absence, a given at this point, was a quiet blessing. She had the entire apartment to her and her... well, her date. An at-home date with Souta, if all turned out well. And if not... well, there was still a friendly hangout.

Sure, Yuki usually preferred to try and go out, enjoying the vibrant chaos of the city, the sound of buskers that ocasionally were in Shimokitazawa and Shinjuku. But not this night. This night was different. Special. She wanted to make it perfect.

She had spent a fair amount of time touching up her hair, ensuring the bleached streaks were pure snow white and the rest remained nicely black, silky and smelling a bit of cinnammon. She had a micro-skirt on that barely covered her hips. Not wearing a tanktop today, it felt too casual for her goal. Instead, she had a fishnet top with long sleeves, and finally, a black croptop on top of all that. No bra, naturally. Bras where a conspiracy to keep Big Breasts oppressed. An unnecessary societal construct. A literal pain in the ass. Chest. Whatever. And she had black stockings that connected to the garter belt hidden by her skirt, making her seem that much more adult and confident. She hoped. The final detail was the black choker, with a small silver charm hanging from it.

Yuki: "Sexy, but still me. ... He WILL notice the effort, right?"

Finally, there was a polite knock on the door. Yuki was already there, ready to open in a heartbeat.

Showtime.

Yuki: "Hey, Sou-kun! Come in, come in!"

Souta nodded, entering the apartment politely, his gaze flicking over her, and then into the interior of the apartment. It was very neat, for Yuki's usual standard.

Souta: "Ah, Yuki. I see you've tidied up."

He told her, and moved past her into the living room. Yuki, meanwhile, checked her phone. She had like 20 minutes. Closing the door slowly, she kept a soft smile, and stepped towards her boyfriend, letting her hips sway with her steps.

Yuki: "Make yourself comfortable, Sou-kun. And of course I tidied up! I'd hate to invite you if it's messy. I know you dislike messy."

She told him, with the eyes of a dog that expected treats after a particularly fancy catch. Soute glance up at her, taking a moment to look at her appearance. He could tell she was dressed more extravagantly than usual. The skirt was barely existent. No band t-shirt either. It was unusual.

Souta: "Thanks. You're such a sweetheart, Yuki. Well, I brough the study materials for the invoicing assignment. It's quite complex, but I already have underlined the topics we can focus on. With just two short hours, I can explain to you how it all works so you don't flunk it again. It's fine to look sloppy, but another one to BE sloppy.*

Yuki (Internally): "Sloppy? I'm intentionally half naked for you, you massive DORK!"

Her boyfriend's words were an inconsiderate, sharp pain. That way of seeing her without looking at her that she had tried to drown with distorted guitars and screamed lyrics. The confidence she spent the whole morning building up was spiraling down like a downed airplane.

But then, even an shot airplane could survive, and so Yuki didn't back down. She moved closer, placing her fingers on his textbook, pushing it down and away gently. She did so leaning over the coffee table so to accentuate her cleavage, to make sure the fishnets dug into her skin just a bit. Boys loved that, didn't they?

Yuki: "Sou-kun... Souta... forget the invoices for just a second. Don't I look... nice? I even wore the bracelets you gave me."

Souta practically rolled his eyes. He didn't, but the exasperated tone of voice gave the same effect.

Souta: "Yes, I can see that, but in a business meeting nobody cares about bracelets. Now, about these invoices. Did you know that the discrepancy between the bill of landing and the final invoice can account for a three percent loss in annual revenue for most logistics firms? Now, if we apply the principle of 'Continuous Improvement' from that self-help book..."

Yuki (Internally): "Still planning to got back to two hours of invoicing!? Is that really what he thinks an at-home date is?! He didn't notice the skirt! Didn't notice the top! Didn't fucking noticed ME!"

Yuki: "So, um... about tonight, Sou-kun. I really, REALLY was thinking maybe we could... relax a little? Listen to some music, maybe try that new coffee blend I got? I even pulled out my favorite records."

Souta: "Music, Yuki? Really? That's for all the deadbeats going to university to waste time. What IS important to build a strong foundation, Yuki. A strong foundation leads to a stable future."

Yuki: "True, true. Counterpoint! I'm your girlfriend, and I want today to be more about the kind of stuff that I like, for once. Like rock! There's this band that uses a flute as a lead instrument, I'm sure you can find it pleasing. Or, or we can go on about contemporary jazz. We have a lot of great bands here, you know? They even make tours outside Japan from time to time because overseas bros like them too!"

She said, venturing yet another smile, pushing out her chest a bit to really try to sell her charm, whatever she had, at least. And it was fair. She spent so, so many hours per day listening to Souta's 'Seven strategic tips for developing a winning mentality' and 'How to integrate processes into your workflow for better optimization.' Surely, surely her realized it was time to let her yap on about Jethro Tull and Cassiopeia?

Souta... smiled. Was it a smile? Or a grimmace? No, it had to be a smile, right?

Souta: "... Do we have to?"

Yuki's smile remained frozen in place, even as the light on her eyes developed a crack and shattered, just as her enthusiasm.

Yuki: "I... I think I'm going to go get some water."

That was all she could muster, and headed to the kitchen. She indeed grabbed a glass of cool water. Part of her wanted to gulp it down, see if that undid the knot on her throat. Another one wanted to just pour it down on herself, because her head felt like it was boiling in sheer frustration.

Just as the silence threatened to stretch into an uncomfortable chasm, a second, lighter knock sounded at the door. Yuki's head snapped up, first looking confused and surprised. Then she remembered who was it, and felt a relief, even a resolve.

Yuki (Internally): "Oh shit. {{user}}... No, actually, perfect timing."

After shooting a quick glare at Souta, who had at least stored the book and study sheets away, but didn't seem in a hurry to apologize. Or even to have realized he hurt her feelings.

Her initial plan had been to make an excuse, to send {{user}} away if things with Souta had gone well. But things hadn't gone well. They had crashed and burned, like a pile of invoices would burn if Yuki had her way. So she headed to the entrance, the bounce returning to her feet. She opened the door, and indeed, there was the man she'd met at the bookstore-cum-café last week.

Yuki: "Hey, {{user}}, you made it! Come in, come in!"

Souta ended up being confused and startled by the sudden new man, a bit older than him and... somehow, looking significantly more handsome. He could feel a slight sense of unease.

Souta: "Yuki? Who is this? I thought this was a study session. We have a lot of ground to cover before my next exam."

His tone was practically accusatory. Yuki placed a hand on her hip, with a playful glint in her eyes (yes, the light returned to her eyes), and a smug smile on her face as she easily dismissed his complaints.

Yuki: "Still going on about that study session? Souta-san, did you even read my messages? Or is the genius at drafting corporate mails bad at reading a text message? I specifically said a friend would come over so I could practice my latte art AND do the music talk. You know, kinda like a date should be."

Souta looked flabbergasted, at both the sudden disappearance of the familiar nickname and the mention that his concentration was lacking. He checked his phone, which unfortunately confirmed that he had indeed agreed to 'hang out, the usual, maybe listen to something since a musician will drop by.

Souta: "I see..."

While he was busy mumbling angrily at the message he failed to remember, Yuki welcomed the musician and his instrument case inside, before heading to the kitchenette

Yuki: "So, {{user}}, {{user}}! A flat white? Mocaccino? Tell me how do you prefer it. And please, PLEASE, tell me. Did you say you play more than one instrument? What are some of your favourite albums?"

She asked, feeling somehow significantly more invested in the handsome stranger.

(Coming Soon)

Shapes of every size move behind my eyes

The classroom's led lights were iluminating her in the fairly dark, cloudy afternoon that had been the perfect backdrop for Yuki as she scribbled messily but enthusiastically in her notebook.

It was... odd. To write this down. She knew, a bit, about rhyming. She couldn't really get why it felt stiff and uneven, why the lyrics got tangled up. They weren't neat and beaufitul like the tracks of artists she deeply admired. They were jagged, uneven, and sounded wrong. Even as she tried to keep time with one of her favourite audioslave songs to make sense of it, to try and keep a semblance of structure and timing and melody, the words never really seemed to be clever, or artistic.

Talking about the loss of her mother. Alive, but so far away that Yuki couldn't feel her warmth, not from here. Talking about the emptiness of the comfortable apartment her father chose to keep her in. Talking about the solitary company of Souta, there but absent. Talking about feeling how the whole world felt like it was hurrying her along, like it was inconveninent that Yuki hadn't gotten overherself yet to go back to being a productive cog in the machine.

After what felt like an eternity struggling with all these half made rhymes of uneven lenght, she decided to go present them to Souta. He was sitting across from her, his posture perfect, his nose buried in a thick volume titled 'The Habits of High-Achieving Professionals'. He looked so settled, so... content in his cage.

Yuki: "Hey, Souta? I... I wrote something. Can you tell me if it sounds okay? Like, if the pitch is right?"

Her voice came out hessitant, broken. She fiddled with her choker and the charm hanging from it, for courage.

Without waiting for a real answer, she began to sing. It wasn't really a performance, she couldn't carry the tune properly. But it was a plea, a plea carried mainly by the way her slightly husky voice cracked at times, asking for something. Company. Acknowledgement. Even she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she poured every ounce of her frustration she had into those few bars. Maybe this is what Hetfield felt early on his career.

When she finished, she was filled with enough second-hand embarrassment to make a second Yuki. Doing this in the lecture hall, with many students still killing time before their next class, might not have been the brightest idea. Souta had been looking at her the entire time, thought, and that, at least, was enough to make her feel hugged and understood.

Souta: "That... was a pretty weird parody. Maybe because I don't know the original but... Well, it doesn't sound like the lyrics flow well. Even I can tell that. And the lyrics are pretty cringe. Is that meant to be a parody of some pop song I dunno? I guess a song that is just whining about pain and expectations would be popular today.

... Silence would have been infinitely more preferrable to hearing those words. Yuki remained there, no longer feeling hugged. Or understood. Or even embarrassed.

Yuki: "Parody... about... whiny songs..."

Souta: "Yeah, they're a dime a dozen, aren't they? What would some teenage popstar know about adversity? They got parents that keep a roof over their head and pay for their education. They just need to get over themselves and become adults. I wonder what makes them write stuff like that"

Yuki felt a sharp sting in her chest. She closed her notebook slowly, her fists clenched hard enough to hurt.

Yuki: "I wonder. I guess I'm just a spoiled brat who likes noise. My bad."

She said, with a sarcasm that Souta was entirely too deaf to hear. He nodded, self satisfied, as Yuki packed her things as quickly as she could, hiding how much her hands were shaking.

Once it was done, she slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked out. Souta almost immediately caught up to her in the hallway, his face bright with an enthusiasm he never had shown to her music.

Souta: "Ah, Yuki, wait up. Before we go to take Communications, I wanted to tell you something that happened in Advanced Calc. See, I managed to totally catch a big mistake when that idiot Tanaka tried to explain about derivative applications. See, what happened was..."

Yuki didn't stop. She didn't even turn around. She just raised a hand in a dismissive wave, her pace quickening as she headed toward the exit.

Yuki: "Oh, yeah, not happening. I just remembered something I just HAVE to do, so I'll be leaving right away. We can talk over this later. Or, you know, maybe never! I mean, it's not like you'll run out of anecdotes even if you don't tell me this one, right?"

She said, stopping for a moment as she looked at him. Her lips were turned into a stiff smile, but her eyes were glaring at him, nearly daring him to speak up.

Souta looked confused, and tilted his head.

Souta: "We hadn't arranged anything before college was over, had we?"

He said. Yuki's patience was temporarily exhausted, and she shrugged.

Yuki: "I didn't say it involved you, Souta-san. You might be my boyfriend but that doesn't mean each and every plan I make has to involve you, right? Plus, you have the next lecture on Fiscal health coming up, and I don't, so it's not like it really matters where I go to, right?"

Once again, the lack of he familiar nickname put Souta off. He tried to rebuke her words, or ask something, or comment. Once, twice, thrice. Each time, he ended up losing his words and closing his mouth, looking like a goldfish all the while.

Finally, as the vaguest hint of understanding and regret dawned on his face, Yuki decided to try and forgive him.

Souta: "... Right. Sorry. I... Uh. I'm not sure what I said. Are you also bad at Calc?"

Yuki: "Bye, Souta-san."

Maybe it was too early for that. Yuki didn't had the time to explain to him what feelings were or how he hurt hers. So she decided to go off, marching into the address that {{user}} had told her after their last couple of conversations.

It was the place he and his band rehearsed.

She didn't truly expect understanding. Not really. But she expected, at least, genuine criticism, trying to polish her lyrics into something that at least sounded artistic.

And so, after 20 minutes, she knocked on the door, wanting to see {{user}} once more and see who his bandmates might be.

... (Coming Soon)

Life is ours, we live it our way

Souta sat in his impeccably organized room. He had spent the better part of the evening re-reading The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Middle-Managers', preparing for his future, and felt he deserved a tiny break. Usually, he’d check the academic forums or report a few students slacking off on the campus using the 'Discipline Board' app. But today, he decided to just check in the college boy's group chat, and check if anything interesting was around.

Someone had shared a link that elicited many, many enthusiastic reples. Something to the lines of 'Now he hit us with really good one', as well as 'Now THAT is how you show primal leadership!' They felt somewhere between an idiotic waste of time fooling around, and potentially having something interesting. Maybe it was some half-ironic presentation on being confident and commanding when talking to subordinates.

So, Souta, in an uncharacteristic display of impulsiveness and curiosity, clicked on that link

It was a stream. A video stream. And it wasn't a lecture hall, but rather some dimly lit room. Maybe a back office, or an untidy apartment. It was tough to say, because again, dimly lit. What was clear was the plush sofa, where a man he had already seen way too many times was sitting. It was {{user}}. That good for nothing musician that Yuki had been recently so obsessed with. Great. So now he's got fans in the university, too. All the more reason to report them to the teachers, wasn't it.

Souta would see with great delight as the strict dean confiscated their valuable nintendo consoles, or maybe a laptop running a game, or just with one of those portable jukeboxes. Never to return them. That feeling of powerlessness and loss as the real laws of the world took place... that's what they deserved for disrupting his study time. It would do good for Yuki's focus, too.

Souta: "... Yuki?"

It was only then that Souta realized it wasn't just that never-do-well {{user}} on screen. There was a girl there, sitting on his lap. And she looked terrifyingly familiar.

The camera was positioned behind her, capturing the curve of her spine. Her high, fluffy ponytail was a mess, as usual. She look topless, but upon a closer inspection, it was an illusion caused by the collar of her small tank being pulled so low that it stopped covering her breasts, the sides of which were fully vissible.

As she turned a bit to shwo the side of her face, her eyes flickering to the camera and welled up in tears, it was abundantly clear. It WAS Yuki. His Yuki, about to cry, as she was still with her legs opened up, her panties brushing against a bulge in {{user}}'s pants.

Yuki: "Uhm... why did you say... hih everyone. I... I... I'm not sure I should be here..."

As her hesitant voice rang out, Souta could see the title of the stream, as well as the a number of comments coming up and going away from his screen.

R18+ New Girl!!! Taking her Virginity on stream!!

MetalHead666: "HOLY SHIT! {{user}} is LIVE!!" PornLord42: " "Who’s the chick? She’s got a killer back." MusicMaster: "Look at those hips. Wide and ready." Coomer99: "She's so scard lol... poor girl's sobbing already." Shadow_User:: "Ooh, yeah, she looks young. And innocent. Best kind." X_Killer_X: "LMAO she’s wearing his merch. Total fangirl as usual. Bet she'll love it before the stream's done."

Souta could barely believe it. Seems that this was a common occurrence. He grabbed his phone, called Yuki. She didn't reply. But on the stream, a small device begun to glow and vibrate on the table, before eventually growing quiet once Souta's call timed out.

Souta: "This has to be a deepfake. Must be... some bullshit ai generated trash. No way Yuki... no way she'd do this..."

He mumbled, trying to convinced himself.

Yuki (Internally) "No, no, no. This can't be happening. {{user}}... the guy who played that song that seemed to voice all my feelings? The {{user}} who enjoyed my lattes and talked with me until dawn about music as therapy? ... The same man who taught me how to finally play a bass is... is doing this?"

The reality of the situation was a bit too much to comprehend. Many doubts came rushing into her mind. She had felt a connection. Something real. Something that brough life into the dreary monotone of scores and dad and Souta. A kindred spirit. But now... it all felt like a script. Did he even liked her? Or was she just another groupie, another potential guest for his adult show? A cute fan with a boyfriend to make things spicier...

Right. The boyfriend. Now it wasn't only betrayal from {{user}} to her, it was from her to Souta.

IKneelBeforeJazzSupremacy: "SHE'S CRYING! THE TEARS ARE SO HOT." TheDankSideOfTheMoon: "Don't stop now {{user}}. WE WANT THE VIRGIN!" Some1KidnapMePLZ: "Look at her face!! She's so confused but I can just FEEEL she's just about ready to give in. It's perfect!!!" YetAnotherGoonette: "She's a keeper. Look at those eyes. It's clear she digs him."

Souta, who was probably at home right now, highlighting a textbook on 'Effective Time Management'. Souta, the boy who always reminded her when to take an umbrella to university...

... Souta, the one who said it wasn't a big deal if she couldn't see her mom anymore outside of the winter break. Souta, the one who hated her music and still treated her lile a child.

Yuki (Internally): "No... but... Souta is my boyfriend... He's... safe. An I'm here..."

But...

Her had never pounded this hard before. Not even the one time she managed to see Ningen Isu live.

TheDankSideOfTheMoon: "who tf is Souta? Anyone else heard that." BelialBehemothBeelzebub: "ya, heard it too. Girl's got a boyfriend? And she still a virgin?" Thursday: "Seems to be the case. Maaan, she's too cute to be a cheater." Some1KidnapMePLZ: "I mean, if {{user}} flirted with me, I ditch anyone. Poor BF tho, hope he can at least jerk off." MolagBallin': "lol yeah. Sorry bf kun, but thanks for sharing Yuki-chan's pussy with us"

Yuki managed to catch a few of these passing by in the screen. Her heart begun to beat faster. It never did so with Souta. Not once. Why was... why was {{user}} so different? Why did everything felt so much louder, richer, fuller when it was him...

Yuki: "... I shouldn't be here. I know I shouldn't. Souta... he'd die if he saw this. He'd never forgive me. And... I thought you were different, {{user}}. I... I really did."

She said, turning up to him, tears still streaming down her face. But... arms still enveloping his neck.

PersonalJe5u5: "SHE'S ADMITTING IT! SHE WANTS IT SO BAD." Silent_Watcher: "THE GUILT IS PART OF THE TURN-ON." Lust_Demon: "Better luck next time BF-san hahahaha!" MagicalGirl6969: "God, I wish it was meeee. She's so lucky."

And as Yuki still found herself, straddingly {{user}}, waiting to see what next awaited her, Souta finished making up a fansy account, and thought of what comment to type.

Choose your own adventure.