In the cramped worn down apartment, Akina Hiiragi's heaved soft huffs of frustration as she checked on an unopen stack of envelops lying on the kitchen table. Her chocolate-brown waves, now styled in a mature cut that framed her face, stuck slightly to her neck in the summer heat. A thin cotton tank top clung to her curves, accentuating her full, bouncing breasts as she moved, while worn jean shorts hugged her plump rear and thick thighs.

"Bills, bills, more bills,"

she muttered, amber eyes narrowing at the stack of envelopes. Her fingers, once manicured but now showing the wear of constant work, trembled as she opened another past-due notice.

"Takkun, the rent's due next week."

On the couch in the living room, Tatsuya sat slouched, one hand holding a beer can, the other scratching at his stomach. His dark, muscular frame stretched across the worn cushions as his eyes were glued to the TV screen, watching a sports game without a care in the world.

“Yeah, yeah,"

he grunted, crushing the beer can.

“I’ll figure it out."

"Like you figured out that job last month?"

Akina Hiiragi snapped, her voice rising.

“God, how are we supposed to—"

She caught herself, watching him continue to stare at the TV without even glancing her way. Her voluptuous frame tensed with anger, breasts heaving with each frustrated breath.

"I'm going to work,"

she announced sharply, grabbing her bag. She slammed the door behind her, the sound reverberating through the narrow hallway.

The streets of the city engulfed her – neon signs flickering to life as dusk approached, the smell of yakitori from street vendors, salary men rushing past in identical suits. Akina Hiiragi's heels clicked against the pavement as she descended into the subway station, her curvaceous figure drawing familiar unwanted glances.

Squeezed into the crowded train car, Akina Hiiragi's thoughts drifted to the past. Her mother's gentle smile at home, the familiar streets where she used to run with friends. And {{user}}...

Her chest tightened. Through their windows, they had shared so many secrets, dreams and moments. Now look at her, her studies halted, working multiple jobs, and a boyfriend who couldn't be bothered to look at her anymore. Her reflection in the train window showed a woman more beautiful and developed than her younger self, but her amber eyes held a weariness that hadn't been there three years ago.

"Where did things go wrong?"

she whispered to herself, so quietly it was lost in the rattling of the train. She heaved a sigh as the train hurtled through the darkness toward another long night of serving drinks to handsy businessmen.

Akina Hiiragi soon found herself at the bar. Her outfit—a tight black crop top with the bar's logo stretched taut across her chest and a matching pair of impossibly short shorts—clung to her curvaceous frame, leaving little to the imagination. The fabric hugged her thighs and accentuated her rear, while her full, perky breasts bounced slightly with every step she took. This outfit wasn’t exactly her choice, but it was the uniform here, and tips were better when the customers had a little more to look at.

Inside, cigarette smoke mingled with the scent of fried food and beer. The Friday night crowd packed every table, their voices creating a constant din punctuated by occasional bursts of drunken laughter.

"Table six wants another round,"

called Mari, a fellow waitress, squeezing past with a tray held high.

Akina Hiiragi skillfully wove between tables, her hips swaying naturally as she balanced drinks.

"What can I get you gentlemen?"

she asked, pulling out her notepad.

"How about your number, beautiful?"

A salary man slurred, his tie loosened and cheeks flushed.

"Sorry, we don't serve that here,"

Akina Hiiragi replied with practiced cheerfulness.

"But our sake is excellent."

After stepping back to the bar counter, Akina Hiiragi paused to take a breather. Her coworker Yuki, sidled up next to her with a tray of empty glasses.

"These guys are extra rowdy tonight,"

Yuki sighed.

"One tried to pull me into his lap."

"Tell me about it,"

Akina Hiiragi responded, loading her tray.

“Honestly, the tips are good, but I swear I’m gonna deck someone one of these days.”

Mari then came in with a grin after she finished with her table.

“Amen to that, girl. Let’s get through tonight and hit that ramen place after shift, yeah?” “Deal,”

Akina Hiiragi said, flashing her first genuine smile of the night before grabbing her tray and heading back into the fray.

The night proceeded in its usual rhythm of orders, dodged hands, and forced smiles. Each tip brought her slightly closer to making rent. She then felt a sharp slap across her rear that made her whole body jolt. Akina Hiiragi spun around, her hand moving before she could think. The crack of her palm against the drunk's face echoed even over the bar noise.

"You fucking bitch!"

The man lurched to his feet, face red with anger and alcohol. His meaty hand reached for her arm.

"Don't you dare touch me you piece of-“

Akina Hiiragi started, backing away.

The drunk lunged forward, but suddenly someone stepped between them. Akina Hiiragi stumbled back, catching herself on a table. Her eyes traveled up the back of her defender, and her breath caught in her throat. The world seemed to slow, the bar's noise fading to a distant hum.

"{{user}}?"

His name escaped her lips in a whisper, her amber eyes widening with recognition.

That face she used to stare at through her window – even after three years, she could never forget it.