Renji raised a brow, smug. "Relax, I'm just proposing a better deal."
Renji didn't hesitate, slamminh his own black card on the counter next to Me. Riko. "What do you think, old man?" he said coldly, turning to Mr. Riko. "I'll triple the price of whatever he's offering. That's $1,350. A $550 profit for you. You gotta be wise."
Mr. Riko froze, glancing between the premium elite card which he could easily recognize anywhere and the folded up bills from Yuki and then up at Yuki's face and Renji's, who just stood there, amused and unfazed.
Finally, the old man sighed. "Yuki… you can't possibly pay that back. And if my boss finds out I let you go without paying in full I'm done for. My wife's already mad I spent our anniversary money on gacha pulls. I can't lose this job over a game control pad. Let him have it."
Yuki stared, wide-eyed, before scowling and rolling his eyes. With a defeated huff, he dropped the box on the counter and retrieved his $450.
Renji casually reached over, took the controller box, and held it up like a trophy. "Sweet baby," he murmured, admiring it. "She's sexy and beauty at the same time." He turned to Yuki, still grinning. "But seriously, pastry prince, how the hell did you even think of coming here for this thing?"
"Bruh, bro-code! There are something you just don't fight for me for!" Yuki kicked him in the knee, exiting the gadget store. He sighed, his eyes lingering on the $450 in his palms. "Renji, you are just an asshole. I fucking hate you."
"I bet you shouldn't. I had the money so I paid for it. Did you expect I let you get the gaming pad I have been after three seconds I set my eyes on it?"
"But bruh, you have tons of control pad in the dorm and at home. Can't I have that one?" Renji jogged after him, the box tucked under his arm like a prized possession. "Tons of controllers, sure—but none like her. This baby's limited edition, forged from the tears of tech gods. You of all people should know, pastry prince, that when perfection presents itself, you don't hesitate. You devour."
Yuki groaned, stomping down the sidewalk. "You and your poetic bullshit. I devour cupcakes, not my dreams getting crushed."
Renji laughed, catching up to walk beside him. "Hey, look. I know it sucks. But I wasn't gonna pretend I didn't want it just 'cause you saw it first. That's not how the world works."
Yuki shoved his bills into his hoodie pocket, face bitter. "Damn right. The world works for those with black cards and no sense of decency."
"You mean good taste and strategy," Renji corrected with a wink. "Get in the car Yuki, let me drop you off at the dorm. You have to get on the project that is for the both of us you know?"
"I'm not selling out my tech gigs again for you, go pitch your ideas, motherfucker!" Yuki continued walking down the street ignoring the honking horn from Renji's red Ferrari. He stumbled upon the train station. Yuki stumbled into the train station, the fluorescent lights overhead flickering slightly as the late afternoon crowd bustled past him. He jammed his hands into his hoodie pocket, shoulders hunched.
He found a bench by the vending machines and plopped down, his bag sliding off his shoulder. "Fucking Renji," he muttered, glaring at the nearby ad poster of the same controller he just lost. Steam Vortex X-Pro—Unleash Your Power. He wanted to punch it.
His phone buzzed.
Renji:
[ You're not mad, you're dramatically inconvenienced. I'll let you touch her when we get back. Two seconds. Max. Also, hurry up with the project or I'm photoshopping your face into my next proposal.]
Yuki groaned and locked the screen without replying. He turned his gaze to the tracks, watching as a distant train light shimmered in the tunnel and coincidentally, his eyes caught a flier.
{MALE SERVICER NEEDED}
It was stuck to one of the walls on the far side, just past the platforms where the trains were speeding in and out. He sighed, his hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets as he leaned against the concrete pillar.
The station was busy, people rushing in all directions, the sound of train announcements and the faint buzz of conversation filling the air.
Yuki glanced at the clock on the wall—just a few minutes before the train coming from the other direction would clear the platform and immediately went to the other side where the flier was. He stopped in front of it, his fingers lightly brushing the edges of the paper before he fully read it again.
> Are you charming, confident, and ready to cater to the needs of an exclusive clientele?
We are looking for a reliable male servicer to assist in a variety of high-end personal tasks. This is an exclusive, private position for a discreet and dedicated individual.
Qualifications: Strong physical stamina, Must be physically fit and well-groomed, Comfortable with personal and intimate interactions, Confident and personable with excellent communication skills, Must be adaptable to varying tasks, previous experience in similar roles is a plus but not required and Discreet, professional, and able to maintain confidentiality
Perks: Competitive compensation, flexible hours, Opportunity to work in a high-class environment with prestigious clients
Salary: ¥500,000 per month + performance bonuses.
To apply, please contact us at [servicemaster@tokyohighlife.com] or visit our office at [Shibuya Tower, 5F, 2-23-1 Shibuya, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-0002, Japan.].
--
Yuki raised an eyebrow as he read through the flier, his mind buzzing with questions. What the hell was a "male servicer"? The words were innocuous enough, but the vague description left a lot to the imagination. A part of him wondered if this was just a weirdly worded ad for a personal assistant job.
He pulled the flier off the wall, the first thing that attracted him to it was the salary paid. "¥500,000 per month?" He repeated. The amount seemed ridiculous, especially for something so vague. What kind of job paid that much for someone to "cater to the needs of an exclusive clientele"?
He folded the flier, stuffing it into his hoodie pocket. Once he reached the dorm, he barely even acknowledged the few students hanging around. He shuffled into his room, dropped his bag by the door, and flopped down onto his bed.
"Hey bro, mind passing me the coffee mug?"
Yuki barely registered the voice of his roommate, Jun, as he tossed his bag aside and sprawled on his bed.
"Yuki, you back? Whoa, Renji sent a picture of Miss Tanaka to the group chat. Did you see it?" Jun's voice was light, but there was a playful edge to it.
Yuki groaned, pulling his pillow over his face. "I'm not dealing with Renji's bullshit right now, man."
Jun laughed, completely unfazed by Yuki's grumpy tone. "Oh come on, it's hilarious. You should check it out. Miss Tanaka looks like she walked straight out of a manga panel."
Yuki muttered something incoherent under his breath. Despite his frustration with Renji, curiosity got the better of him, and he grabbed his phone to open the group chat. He unlocked the screen, his eyes still lingering on the flier he'd picked up earlier.
He quickly scrolled through the messages until he saw the infamous picture Renji had sent. It was of Miss Tanaka, their teacher, caught mid-sentence in what could only be described as a hilariously awkward pose. Renji had expertly added a caption: When you accidentally show more than your lesson plan.
Yuki snorted despite himself, unable to suppress the chuckle. "God, Renji's got too much time on his hands. I wish I can be like him, worry-free. He doesn't have to work for money, his mother makes his money and he just stays there and plays off the money."
"You met Katashi Kurica? Fuck, I have been begging Renji to connect me with her. And how the fuck is his mother that hot baddie on the modelling business magazine? Renji does have surprises yet to be discovered."
Yuki rolled his eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed by Jun's over-the-top reaction. Jun was practically sweating with delight, his hands gesturing wildly as he got more caught up in his excitement.
Yuki, still lying back on his bed, pulled his pillow over his face. "Ugh, gross. Dude, don't get all hot and bothered over someone's mom. That's weird." He peered out from under the pillow, shooting a glance at Jun. "Seriously, you gotta chill."
Jun froze, suddenly realizing how weird that sounded. "What? No, I—shit. I just meant… she's, like, ridiculously good-looking for her age. It's crazy, right? But Men, you got to see this woman's curves. They turn you on! Bruh, even better than Aiko Tanaka!"
Yuki shot Jun a deadpan look and fell back on his bed. "She is out of your league. Women like Katashi needs men that are high you know and you, you are just a five minute squirt man. So get the fuck from staring at someone's mother."
"Motherfucker, at least I have tasted and fucked a pussy and not like you saving virginity for whatever fucking reason."