Yuzuki watched as the older man handed Naseru the money, pressing it into his palm with a firm nod of approval.

  "You’re good, kid," the man said. "Best pyer we’ve had here in a long time."

  Naseru took the money without a word, tucking it into his pocket like it barely mattered.

  Another man, standing nearby, leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "We’ve heard a little about your situation. You don’t wanna go home, right? If you ever need a pce to crash, just say the word."

  Naseru shook his head. "I’m good."

  There was no hesitation. No pause. Just finality.

  The men exchanged gnces, and one of them sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, kid. But whatever your problem is, I hope you figure it out soon."

  Naseru didn’t respond. He simply turned away, stepping off the court, the night air thick with humidity as the sounds of the game faded behind him.

  Yuzuki trailed after him, her mind still trying to process what she had just seen.

  Naseru had won that match effortlessly, made money without even seeming to care, and then refused an offer of shelter without a second thought.

  What was he even doing?

  "You still haven’t eaten."

  The words slipped out before she could stop them.

  Naseru barely acknowledged her, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  Yuzuki frowned. "You just made money. Are you even gonna use it?"

  Finally, he gnced at her, his expression unreadable. "What’s your pn?"

  Yuzuki blinked. "Huh?"

  "You’re fifteen, right? You gonna keep trying agencies? Keep knocking on doors until someone lets you in?"

  Her fingers curled slightly. "What else am I supposed to do?"

  Naseru’s gaze was sharp, but not unkind.

  "That’s the thing," he said. "You don’t know. You’re just running on hope."

  Yuzuki’s stomach twisted. She didn’t like the way he said it, like it was obvious that her dream was nothing more than a shot in the dark.

  "You don’t know either," she shot back. "You’re not even using the money you make. What are you pnning?"

  Naseru didn’t answer right away.

  Instead, he started walking.

  Yuzuki hesitated, then followed.

  2Naseru led her through the dimly lit streets, past closed shops and vending machines humming softly in the silence.

  Eventually, they reached the park again—the pce where all of them, the forgotten ones, drifted back to eventually.

  And then Yuzuki saw where he was going.

  Reina.

  She was sitting on the bench, looking more like a shadow than a person, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

  The other older girls were nearby, but they weren’t paying attention to her.

  Naseru walked over, pulling a few of the bills from his pocket and pcing them on the bench beside her.

  Reina blinked up at him. "What’s this for?"

  Naseru shoved his hands back in his hoodie pocket. "For the st time you bought me food."

  Yuzuki’s breath caught.

  She had no idea that Reina had ever helped Naseru before.

  "Don’t use it for stupid shit," Naseru added, voice ft. "And don’t walk off with weak-hearted men again."

  Reina let out a hollow ugh. "You sound like you think I have a choice."

  Naseru exhaled sharply, looking away.

  Yuzuki watched the exchange, her chest tightening. There was something different about Reina now. She wasn’t just exhausted—she was resigned.

  That scared Yuzuki more than anything.

  3"Too many broken things," Reina murmured after a long pause, staring down at the money. "Not enough people fixing them."

  Her voice was quieter than before, more distant.

  Naseru stayed silent.

  Yuzuki hesitated before speaking. "What… happened? When you were gone?"

  Reina’s fingers tightened around the bills.

  She exhaled through her nose, then gave a tired smile. "Does it matter?"

  Yuzuki felt something sharp twist in her chest.

  "Of course it matters."

  Reina studied her for a moment before shaking her head. "You still don’t get it, huh?"

  "Get what?"

  "The world doesn’t care what happens to girls like us."

  The weight of those words settled heavily between them.

  But then, before Yuzuki could respond, someone new approached.

  A boy.

  Older than Naseru, but not by much. Maybe sixteen or seventeen, with a thin frame and eyes that looked like they had seen too much, too soon.

  He walked up to Reina, hands in his pockets, his posture casual.

  "Yo," he said. "You back for good?"

  Reina shrugged. "I don’t know yet."

  Yuzuki gnced between them, her unease growing.

  And then the boy turned to Nasru.

  "You know Kaito, right?"

  Naseru’s expression darkened slightly. "Yeah."

  The boy smirked. "Kaito’s still out here. Still selling."

  Silence.

  Reina stiffened slightly but didn’t say anything.

  Yuzuki didn’t understand. Selling? Selling what?

  Then it hit her.

  Kaito wasn’t selling something.

  He was selling himself.

  Yuzuki’s stomach dropped.

  She looked at Naseru, expecting some kind of reaction, but his face was unreadable again, back to that detached nothingness that made her feel uneasy.

  "He got beat up pretty badly in a fight recently."

  The boy sighed. "Figured you’d wanna know."

  Then he left.

  Reina exhaled, pressing her fingers against her temples. "That kid…"

  Naseru was silent for a long time before finally muttering, "It’s not surprising."

  Yuzuki turned to him, her throat dry. "You knew him?"

  Naseru’s jaw tightened. "Yeah."

  Yuzuki wanted to ask more, but she could tell that Naseru wouldn’t answer.

  4That night, Yuzuki sat alone near the vending machine, staring at the city lights beyond the park.

  She kept thinking about Kaito.

  About Reina.

  About how many people were forced to sell pieces of themselves just to survive.

  Too many broken things. Not enough people fixing them.

  She clenched her fists.

  That wasn’t fair.

  And maybe she couldn’t change everything. Maybe she was just one girl in a world that was far too cruel.

  But she had to do something.

  Even if it was small.

  Even if she didn’t know how.

  To be continued...