Chapter Text
Hope. Something that’s become more and more scarce in this city. The last twenty years hadn’t been kind on Mitakihara or her people. What was once a shining city of light and life had slowly started to turn into a grungy, dirty city of neon and sin. ‘The Vegas of the East’ people had started calling it; business, school and apartment complex had been replaced over the last twenty years with strip clubs, casinos, brothels, hotels, motels, tourist traps and tacky gift shops. Hell, Madoka hardly recognized her home town anymore... all the construction and destruction that went on made the skyline change almost every six months.
She remembered her mother telling her about the ‘Millenium Project’ when she was still a young girl... apparently Japan had tried to bolster tourist numbers by creating a series of ‘Millenium Cities’ across Japan. They were designed to pull in people from all over the world and keep them complacent in the glitz and glam like only an unlimited budget could create. Mitakihara – once Sagamihara City – was supposed to be the greatest of these cities, a marvel of engineering to rival Tokyo. However, as anyone with a modicum of understanding of how money works would know, you can’t throw unlimited money at a project without some kind of influx of income. Walpurgisnacht had killed Mitakihara’s chances at greatness, as every economist who had studied the ‘Millenium City Failure’ attributed the beginning of Mitakihara’s downfall to that ‘sudden, freak’ storm at the end of March. Many claimed it proved that – while beautiful and fancy – the buildings of Mitakihara were not built to withstand even the most minor of natural disasters. Well, regardless if that was true or not, the damage was done. Mitakihara would never be the tourist spot they wanted, so long as that stain remained.
And thus rang the death knell for the ‘Millenium Project’... dead before it’s inagural city could even be completed. Over the years, the glitz was replaced with the usual architecture. Whole sections of the city were bulldozed en masse and replaced with all manner of sleazy industry. Pretty soon, Mitakihara became a city no one truly ‘lived’ in. Like it’s western counterpart, Mitakihara became a city businessmen and despots traveled to on the weekend to blow their paychecks, only to shuffle out Sunday morning. Even Madoka’s own home had been bulldozed, but that was more to do with other unrelated issues she was dealing with at the time.
By the time she had turned eighteen, life was already falling down around Madoka’s ears. Both of her parents caught COVID and died, leaving her and her brother orphans. Of course, as Madoka was an adult at the time, she managed to avoid getting separated by agreeing to take care of her brother. Barely a woman herself, and forced to grow up and be a mother. She made sacrifices. Their family home was too expensive for her to keep on a grocery store clerk’s salary, so she sold it and moved into a small one-bedroom apartment. Even that wouldn’t last long, though, as once the apartment complexes started getting flattened, she would find herself with a difficult decision.
She could no longer afford to care for Tatsuyo, so with a heavy heart, she agreed to send him off to foster care. She wouldn’t be an absent sister, though. Even though Tatsuyo had new foster parents – ones who loved him almost as much as Madoka herself did – she would always make time to visit him whenever she could. Though... there was one secret Madoka was keeping from her brother... a secret she’d take to her grave if she could. Tonight found Madoka Kaname in the same place every Friday night did, back stage at her job, half-dressed and looking through a fashion magazine.
{“Why do you like going last?”} One of the other girls asked as Madoka turned a page. {“I would think you’d want to go earlier in the night?”} Madoka looked up at the girl, locking eyes with her through the mirror as she applied her makeup.
{“Oh, that’s easy. The later into the night I go, the more time I give my fans to get plastered. The drunker they are, the more money I get.”} She smiled that practiced, sweet smile that had made a million hearts throb in desire. The girl applying her make up laughed.
{“I swear, your tits must be like... magical or something. I have no idea how you manage to rope them in so easily.”} She continued, running lipstick over her lips before stopping. {“Which is wierd, ‘cause I never see you put on makeup.”} Before Madoka could answer, a woman about her age came around the corner, blonde hair to her shoulders and crimson eyes sparkling as she hugged Madoka.
{“That’s ‘cause Maddy’s drop dead gorgeous, and she knows it. The rest of you are just normal gorgeous.”} There was no malice or offense in her voice... just an unbound love for the woman in her arms. {“Ain’t that right, Maddy?”} Madoka just shrugged and turned the page in her magazine.
{“Don't be like that, Nezumi-chan. Everyone’s equally beautiful.”} Madoka smiled up to the girl – Nezumi by her name – before winking to the first girl who addressed her.
{“Says the supermodel...”}
{“Kaname-san over here, lording her superiority over all us basic strippers in just panties and thigh-highs...”} Another girl chimed in, causing Madoka to laugh. Indeed, while the other girls in the dressing room made themselves ready for their set, Madoka simply lounged on her chair, dressed in nothing but a pair of white thigh-high stockings and a pair of white lace panties that left nothing to the imagination.
To anyone who knew Madoka from childhood, they would be shocked... and perhaps a bit appalled... at how much the girl had changed. Her mother had always said that Kaname girls had good genetics, were born gorgeous and only got more attractive as they got older. This could not have been more true in Madoka’s case. The girl she used to be filled out to be a bombshell of a woman, even at thirty five she showed no signs of ever slowing down. It came as no surprise to anyone that the six two, 30F Madoka was by and large the most attractive woman in the room. Though... this didn’t make her vain in the slightest.
{“Look, I’m just trying to read. Don’t let my girlfriend make you think any different.”} Madoka reached up and pulled Nezumi down for a kiss. {“Speaking of, Shiroi-chan... did you lock up before you left?”}
{“A-yup!”} She answered simply, nodding before she pulled a letter out from her back. {“Checked the mail too. Got a letter.”} She handed Madoka the letter, Madoka just taking it and tossing it on the vanity without even sparing it a glance.
{“Look at it later. Probably more ‘correspondence’ from ‘family’ I’ve never met... Getting sick and tired of sharks trying to get money that isn’t even mine.”} Shiroi Nezumi – the red-eyed, blonde-haired woman who was Madoka’s significant other – frowned deeply at that.
{“They still trying to scam you out of your parent’s inheritance? They died like... twelve years ago.”}
{“You’d be surprised how far some people will go, and how long their memory is.”} Before Shiroi could rebuttal, an older woman – about a good twenty years older than Madoka with a face caked in more makeup than anything else – walked into the dressing room, clapping her hands.
{“Alright ladies!”} She spoke in a deep tone, grabbing everyone’s attention. {“It’s about time for everyone to start rolling in. It’s Friday night, prime opportunity to snatch up all that delicious Big Tokyo Company money from all those business men out there. Aino-san? You’re up first followed by Murasaki-san. The rest of you, run sheet’s outside the door, just sign your name when you want to go. As I’m sure you know, gaps in the run sheet will be skipped, so try to avoid that. You can put your name on up to four times... but try to give equal floor to everyone. The night’s going to be capped off by our wonderful White Princess-”} She smiled to Madoka, who nodded simply. {“-so make your money when you can, girls.”}
The White Princess. Madoka didn’t like the appellation, but she had worked up quite the cult of devoted followers among those who could be generously considered to be ‘regulars’ here at the Crystalline Court (Madoka hated the name, but it at least had the plausible deniability to be something other than a house of ill repute). And, no matter how much she didn’t like the name, she was treated like royalty around here by both the staff and the customers. Her shows sold out on the regular, some customers timing their visit for her sets (usually at midnight and just before closing at four AM). She also ran longer sets than the other girls, going upwards of forty five minutes, as the others usually only did sets of fifteen minutes.
The other girls spoke up, confirming they understood the Matron and went back to their business of getting ready, the two mentioned – Aino-san and Murasaki-san – were the two closest to being ready anyway, so they applied the last of their thin layer of makeup before standing, sorting their outfits out (which wouldn’t last five minutes on stage, of course) and going to the waiting area.
-Earlier that day-
The quiet of the campus library was the only real place he found solitude. His peers would much rather waste an evening going to a bar or some such, which was all the same to him. The farther away from him they were, the more time he had to study in peace and quiet. He had just finished his exams just before noon, so in all technicality he didn’t really feel like he had to continue to study... but his mind was most at ease when he was cramming information into it. His solitude, however, would be broken by a cacophony of cheers as a mass of cheering bodies flooded into the library, whooping and hollering in joy. He rolled his eyes as his beloved quiet was shattered, turning his gaze over to the door as the group rushed in like a torrent of spring rain. The two boys in the front he recognized, friends of his (begrudgingly, some days) who had been with him for his entire school career. They appeared to be the ringleaders of the group, hyping everyone up as they invaded his personal sanctum.
{“Yo!”} One of them shouted as he looked up to see Tatsuyo sitting at one of the library tables. {“You still nose-deep in the books, Kaname? Bro, you passed! We all did! You could live a little, and celebrate with us!”}
{“I appreciate the offer, Mori-san... but I’ll pass. Some of the questions I’m convinced I only got right out of dumb luck... I’d like to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”} Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was get roped up in the antics a bunch of drunk delinquents had planned.
{“Man, you weren’t kiddin’. Kaname’s such a bookworm. C’mon, man! We’re all goin’ to Mitakihara to celebrate!”} Tatsuyo frowned at the mention of his hometown. Sure, he’d lived in Tokyo for most of his life, but he was no fool, and still had contact with his sister, who lived in Mitakihara.
{“Hard pass.”} He responded, going down to his book once more. One of the boys practically pulled the book away from him.
{“Figured you’d say that, Kaname. C’mon, live a little, man! We’ve got a special celebration planned, and I won’t take no for an answer.”} Tatsuyo pulled the book back towards him.
{“I’m afraid you’ll have to.”} He responded cooly. The other boy just smiled broader, pulling the book back away from Tatsuyo.
{“You told me you wanted me to try to pull you out of this cycle of yours, remember? To actually celebrate if we both passed?”} Damn... he had hoped he had forgotten about that little devil’s pact he had made. To be frank? Tatsuyo didn’t think the man had the focus to get a C on his final, much less an A. Tatsuyo sighed, shaking his head.
{“Fine, I suppose. I’ll go with you.”} But not because he wanted to. He was a man of his word, and much like his sister, Tatsuyo never lied. He packed up his study material into a messenger bag and hefted it over his shoulder. {“I don’t suppose I have time to drop my stuff off in my dorm, do I?”}
{“Yeah, ‘course you do. The real good stuff don’t start ‘til late.”} This did not instill Tatsuyo with confidence that they would be going to any place he would ever find himself in.
The group let Tatsuyo drop his study materials off at his dorm and met him at the Tokyo Central Train Station around seven PM. For this time of the evening, the station was quiet, only a handful of men in suits hanging around, probably waiting to either head home or going to last-second meetings. Tatsuyo and his group of six (plus him, so seven) boarded the M-03 Line bound for Mitakihara. He didn’t often go to Mitakihara... in the last ten years, he thinks he’s only been back... maybe twice? And both of those were so he could spend Madoka’s birthday with her. Well... her and that weird girlfriend of hers. Tatsuyo considered himself traditional... Madoka considered him ‘painfully old fashioned’ but no matter what either of them got up to, they never judged each other for their ways. They were – after all – different people. Shiroi may have been strange and a little... off in more than one way, but she wasn’t a bad person. He didn’t consider her a bad influence on his sister (nor did he think Madoka made much of an impression on her), but at the very base of it, Shiroi shared his and Madoka’s predisposition to tell the truth. Madoka had been very clear when Tatsuyo first met Shiroi that she would never associate with a liar, much less date one.
Tatsuyo dozed off on the train ride over, the gentle hum of the bullet train’s rails worked on his already fatigued mind and lulled him into a restful – if short – rest, where he was woken up about an hour later by a not-so gentle shove on his shoulder. {“Yo, we’re here.”} Came his friend’s voice, causing him to groan in displeasure. Lightly slapping his cheeks, he took a deep breath and stood, stretching and popping his back. The rapacious group all filed out of the train with Tatsuyo taking the time to look around the city. Madoka always told him that Mitakihara didn’t always look this... grimy; and he didn’t mean in the ‘dirt everywhere’ kind of sense. Mitakihara just gave him the same air that any other House of Ill Repute gave him. The sense that he was unclean simply by virtue of entering the place. He hasn’t the foggiest clue how Madoka – probably the most innocent person he knows – can stand to live in this place... but then again, it was her home city. He was just a baby when his mother and father passed, so he didn’t remember much of them, much less the city.
The group caught a pair of taxis at the station and took it to the Fremont District (the allegories to a city in the United States were strong), which was one of three red light districts in Mitakihara (for a mercy, the higher class one). It surprised Tatsuyo immensely that this part of the Fremont District was so... classy. Most of the businesses that he could see at least went to some great extents to hide their adult nature. The building both taxis stopped out was a pretty batch-standard building like he’s seen a hundred of over his life – a simple set of double doors leading in, with a simple sign over the door which read ‘The Crimson Candle’, a small candle situated near the sign flickered an eerie scarlet light, which bathed half the sign. The only indication that the place was anything but reputable was the small sign by the door which read ‘All persons entering this property must be 21 or older. Please have ID ready.’ Tatsuyo figured if he was going to do this, he might as well make an attempt to enjoy it... he’ll apologize to his dignity later.
The group entered the establishment and went through the painless process of showing the woman at the front desk (who was actually dressed in a very nice kimono) their IDs. The group of friends wandered past the desk once they had all been checked into a small hallway with a sign near the opposite wall that had a few short and simple rules on it.
‘Please do not touch the dancers unless they give permission. Please do not throw money onto the stage, it’s a slip hazard. If you wish to tip the dancers, find their tip jars by the stage. If you are caught taking money out of the tip jars, you will be asked to leave. If you wish to request a private dance, see the bartender or one of the waitresses. Please keep all articles of clothing on at all times. ‘Personal Fun Time’ is not tolerated in public spaces. Waitresses are NOT dancers, and reserve the right to refuse to serve you for any reasonable reason. If you require an ATM, one can be found below this sign. Last call for alcohol is 2 AM. Last dancer on stage begins at 3:15 AM, and finishes at 4 AM. Closing time is 4 AM. If you require any assistance in leaving – or feel you might require assistance –please see the bartender at least fifteen minutes before closing time so assistance can be arranged.’
{“See that, Tatsuyo? They’ll call you a Ryde if you get too drunk to function.”} One of his friends mused, chuckling.
{“That sounds like a you problem, Atsuki-kun.”} Tatsuyo responded with a little smirk. The group let out a rumbling laugh at the pair’s antics before entering the club proper. Tatsuyo has only ever been inside one strip club in his life (this one, in case that wasn’t immensely clear) and even he had to admit how high-class it looked. He had expected seat cushions covered in all sorts of bodily fluids and music so loud he couldn’t hear himself think... but instead he found that the place was extremely well kept. One man – dressed in a suit, no less – was sweeping around the floor and emptying garbage cans, while another woman – dressed like a maid, of course – ran a mop over the cleaned portions of the floor.
{“Evenin’ boys!”} The woman with the mop smiled at them. {“Bunch’a early birds, I love it. Have a seat wherever you want, and I’ll send one of the girls over to get your drinks.”} The group broke off into two groups of three, with Tatsuyo meandering in the direction of one of the groups to join them. He didn’t feel comfortable being in close proximity to any of them at the moment... but didn’t think he would have been safe if he had gone alone.
The two groups sat down and ordered a round of drinks to start, Tatsuyo decided to space out his alcohol with a glass of water (as a to-be doctor, he knew how to slow down the effects of alcohol), which allowed him to not only enjoy his drinks, but avert the threat of the dreaded hangover. They also apparently had a kitchen here, which surprised the hell out of him. {“Oh, hell yeah.”} Atsuki spoke when Tatsuyo expressed surprise at this fact. {“They have some damn good food here. I came here for dinner one day with my brother, their steak is to die for.”} Huh... who’d have thought a strip club would serve – not only any kind of food – but halfway decent food at that.
The group fell into a comfortable array. Tatsuyo had decided to get himself some dinner (since he had skipped lunch to study) and he actually had an enjoyable time chatting with the three people who were sitting with him. He surprised himself at how much... fun he was having out with his classmates and friends. Around nine thirty, the lights in the club lowered and the first dancer was announced. Two drinks in now, Tatsuyo watched with passing disinterest as the woman – probably no older than him, if he were being honest – began her routine. She was pretty, he’d give her credit, and most of his friends cheered her on. Nearing the end of her set, Atsuki took it upon himself to collect ‘donations’ from Tatsuyo and the other two at the table to give to the dancer. It was only fair the girl’s paid for her work, so Tatsuyo contributed five hundred yen to the fund. While it was too dark to see everything, Tatsuyo figured the other two contributed about the same as he did, bringing her total from all four of them up to about two thousand yen, give or take. Probably not a great haul, but was more about getting more donations across the night than making your entire paycheck in one dance routine. When Atsuki went to give the girl her money – a pickle jar sitting by the stage with a paper taped to it which read ‘Aino-sama’ - she smiled and winked at him, blowing him a kiss. She waved politely to the rest of the group... which Tatsuyo was sure no one else but him saw, on account she had been stripped down to just knee-high socks and nipple pasties.
The night progressed mostly like that. With each dancer that took the stage and ‘plied her trade’ for lack of better terms, Tatsuyo saw fit to at the very least pay her for her time. He wasn’t poor by any shred of the imagination... his scholarship paid for his room and board, as well as half his tuition (Madoka paid for the other half), so pretty much all the money he made from his night job at a convenience store (which he had gotten tonight off from, on account he had planned on being so exhausted he just wanted to sleep after the exams) for fun money. It kept him in drinks and tipping the dancers long into the night. And from the looks of things, the place had picked up as well. After the first dancer had finished her set, more and more people (mostly men, but a few women) began to flood in and crowd not only the chairs around the stage, but the rest of the floor as well. It got to the point where the poor man with the broom couldn’t hardly move.
Well, he supposed that was good for the girls, at least. Having several dozen people throwing them two and three hundred yen added up a lot faster than having seven half-broke college students doing it themselves. Most of his group was as close to drunk as they cared to get by about midnight, when Atsuki spoke up. {“Aw, fuck yeah, it’s midnight!”}
{“What? No shit?”} Another asked, checking his phone. {“Awesome! Is the Princess scheduled tonight?”} Princess? Tatsuyo must have worn his confusion openly, but just to be certain.
{“Princess? What are you on about?”}
{“The White Princess, man. You remember a few weeks ago, I told you about that one girl that made me seriously into older chicks?”} Tatsuyo nodded, remembering the discussion well. {“That’s the White Princess. She’s a BIG fucking deal, man. Like... Triple-S Tier. You – you'll see, just watch.”} Another girl came from the door near the stage with two fresh, empty pickle jars, these ones labeled with ‘White Princess’, decorated in a royal motif. The moment she started switching the older jars out with the White Princess’, the crowd went apeshit. Whooping, cheering, wolf whistles and howling echoed through the establishment, and for the briefest of moments, the Crimson Candle lost all semblance of class Tatsuyo once thought it had. People were already standing to shove handfuls of bills into one of the two jars, and one was already a quarter of the way full before her set had even begun.
{“Shit...”} Tatsuyo muttered, taking a sip from his drink as he watched this. {“She must be popular.”}
{“’Popular’ doesn’t even cover it, dude. She’s the only girl here who won’t give private dances! And the only one anyone would ever kill to get a private dance from. I’ve heard of men throwing away their whole paychecks in an attempt to entice her to a private dance, but she turns them all down. ‘White Princess’ isn’t just some cute nickname, either... it fits.”} Atsuki spoke quickly. He took a deep breath before sighing. {“...she’s stripper royalty.”} As he finished this, the lights went down on the stage, and the music kicked on – Tatsuyo wasn’t what one would call a musical fanatic, but he knew enough to recognize a few songs, even non-Japanese ones. This particular song that came on he knew well, ‘Porn Star Dancing’ by My Darkest Day. It happened to be one of Madoka’s favorite songs.
When the curtain opened, an absolutely gorgeous woman in a floor-length white dress stepped out, her folded before her at her waist and her mid-back cotton-candy colored hair fluttering in the airconditioning. As Atsuki mentioned, she was obviously a good decade or so older than most of the girls who had come before her... but her beauty could not be denied. The moment she started her set, it was clear to Tatsuyo that this was not her first day on stage. Her movements were liquid, smooth and flowing and how she worked over the crowd with just a single gaze from those deep pink eyes was-
Wait... something about this woman struck a chord with Tatsuyo. A familiar chord. He couldn’t be certain as the lighting was kind of shit and she was moving an aweful lot... but she looked familiar. Frighteningly familiar. It wasn’t until she blew a coy little kiss to the crowed and winked at them that he realized where he recognized the woman. The alcohol hit him like a truck, causing his stomach to churn for a moment, before he felt a heat wave of pure, refined terror crash against him.
{“Lord have mercy...”} He muttered, lowering his head onto his arms. {“...you’ve got to be kidding me...”}
{“Hey, you okay, Tatsu? You don’t look so hot.”} Atsuki asked, shaking him.
{“First time seeing the Princess.”} Another answered for him. {“Probably trying to hide the boner.”} This made Tatsuyo sick... viscerally sick... like the kind of gut-punch reaction you get when your body is telling you that you’re going to vomit now, and like it or not it’s happening, and it’s going to make it happen. He lifted his head and shook it.
{“No... no, not that...”} He felt his mouth go dry and found it hard to swallow. He just looked up, watching the woman on stage who had been the closest thing to a true mother he had ever known. Madoka was always vague about what she did for a living. Whenever he asked – or anyone asked for that matter – she would always respond the same way. ‘Entertainment’. She would always claim to being ‘in entertainment’, and would always deflect any requests to elaborate. Watching the White Princess now, he understood why she had deflected those questions. Yes... there could be no doubts, no room for error. The White Princess was, in fact, his beloved older sister. And here she was... taking her clothes off for a living.
He watched. What else could he do? He didn’t want to, but his eyes refused to pull away, refused to deny him the sights he took in. It wasn’t just that he was still feeling sick... but he found himself entranced by her movements... like they were movements no normal human could make. Her flexibility was insane and her stamina was unreal. Whereas most of the other girls who took the stage began to visibly sweat after a few minutes – side effects of both the hot stage lights and the constant movement – Madoka barely look winded after ten minutes, not a single bead of sweat on her perfect peach skin. And probably the strangest, most disturbing thing about it? She looked like she was enjoying herself. Not just the attention, not just the money... but she enjoyed the dance itself.
Forty five minutes her set lasted, through seven songs (some of varying appropriateness) before she finished. By the time her set was done, she was down to thigh-high stockings, a pure white pair of lace panties, and nipple pasties. With a flourishing bow and to the rapacious applause of the crowd, Madoka backed off the stage as the curtains closed. Tatsuyo finally managed to pry his gaze away from the spot in space his sister had just disappeared through to look down at the gaggle of men and women rushing to stuff her pickle jar with money. One was already full and threatening to overflow, while the other was about three-quarters of the way full. At least now Tatsuyo knew what Madoka had meant when she would assure him – every time she sent him money – that she was ‘well enough to do’ and money was ‘no object’.
He was angry. He was furious. He was... ashamedly slightly aroused, but that wasn’t the point! Madoka had lied to him, making money off her own body to a slack-jawed crowd every night. As Atsuki turned to collect Tatsuyo’s addition to their group’s donation to the White Princess, Tatsuyo pushed himself up off the chair and went for the bar. Atsuki looked as Tatsuyo left and chanced a glance down to another of his group. {“Probably needs another beer after that. Don’t blame him.”} The other responded.
Tatsuyo, for his part, went to the bar and squeezed in between a businessman and a foreginer, putting both hands on the table. {“Hey!”} The bartender – a well-dressed man with purple hair smiled as he approached. {“What can I do you for, bud?”}
{“I want to talk to the White Princess.”} Tatsuyo spoke simply, her eyes burning with determination. The man chuckled and picked up a glass from below the bar and filled it with amber beer.
{“Sorry bud. White Princess don’t take private dances. If you want, I can suggest a few others who are almost as good.”} The man handed Tatsuyo the beer.
{“No, I didn’t say I want a dance with her. I want to talk to her.”} The bartender shrugged.
{“Even more out of the question. Boss Lady don’t like us lettin’ every Tom, Dick and Harry into the back.”} Tatsuyo took a big drink from the beer – downing half the glass in three huge gulps – before wiping the remains from his mouth with the back of his hand.
{“I’m her brother, goddammit.”} He told him firmly. {“Kaname Tatsuyo’s my name. Tell her I want to speak with her. I promise she’ll agree.”} The bartended looked over to one of the waitresses – who was listening in on the conversation – and gave that ‘what do’ wide-eyed shrug to her. The woman just nodded and gave the ‘go on’ motion with a hand. With a nod, the bartender turned back to Tatsuyo.
{“Alright bud. I’ll... at least convey your message. That can’t hurt.”} He tapped the bar with a finger. {“Wait here, be back in a bit.”} Tatsuyo gave a slight sigh of relief as he looked back at the beer the man had given him and finished it with two more big gulps. He was going to need all the liquid courage he could get to face Madoka right now.
-
Madoka returned to the dressing room to the applause of her coworkers and girlfriend. {“Good show, Kaname-san!”} One called out, cheering.
{“You had ‘em eating out of your hand, as always.”} Another gave a more restrained response.
{“Way to rock their world, babe!”} Nezumi cheered, hugging her.
{“You had one guy out there totally transfixed.”} Came another. {“Looked to be a newcomer, think you made another fan. That’s... what? The millionth?”} Madoka just smiled, waving it away with a little laugh.
{“Oooh, I’m sure you’re exaggerating. I’m just your humble White Princess.”} She heard Shiroi snort.
{“Pffft. Humble.”} She chuckled, rubbing Madoka’s head. {“You’re as humble as a goddess.”} Madoka was certain this was an exaggeration and went to relax at her vanity to cool down and recompose for her second set tonight. She loved how much people came for her, that was true... but deep down, she wished people would also pay her co-workers the same kind of love. They were all good, all beautiful and all far more in need of money than her. But... when she thinks about what that money allows her to do – to care for her brother, to put him through medical school and to help him realize his dream of making sure no other kids lose their parents to illness – it makes her glad to go onto stage every night.
As she was settling into the flow of her between-sets routine, a knock came to the dressing room. {“Come in!”} One of the girls called. The door opened just enough for one of the front-of-house staff – a foreigner bartender – to poke his head in. {“Hey Jake! What’s up?”} None of the girls who worked there minded the front-of-house staff paying them a visit, so long as they expressed decorum and knocked first. After all... men see their tits all the time anyway. What does it matter if one of the bartenders sees, too?
{“Sorry about the interruption, ladies. Uh, Kaname-san? You’ve got someone here wanting to talk to you.”}
{“Ugh this again?”} Shiroi growled. {“How many times do you have to tell people you’re not interested?”} Madoka calmed Shiroi with a pat on the head.
{“Calm down, Shiroi-chan.”} She told the excitable blond before turning her head to the man. {“Give the gentleman my sincerest apologies and gratitude, but I simply don’t do-”}
{“Uh, guy said his name was Tatsuyo? Kaname Tatsuyo? Claimed to be your brother?”} These words stopped Madoka dead, her peach skin turning a bright, pallid pale. The other girls in the room stopped to stare at Madoka for a few seconds before the otherwise composed, dignified White Princess practically fell out of her chair in her rush to stand. Kicking her chair over in the rush, she got to her feet and rushed to the door before stopping herself, turning instantly around and snatching a robe off one of the nearby hooks. Throwing the robe over herself, she cinched it tight and threw the door open, rushing out.
{“Bring him to private room four!”} Madoka called as she ran down the hall to the aforementioned private room. {“SHIROI-CHAN!”} She shouted, Shiroi snapping to a salute.
{“On my way, ma’am!”} She announced, following Madoka out. The bartender just watched this all unfold, shrugged, then closed the door to collect her guest.
-
This was the day Madoka dreaded more than anything else. She feared – more than any Witch or existential crisis – this day more than any other. She knew she’d have to come clean with Tatsuyo; knew eventually her roundabout, dismissive ‘entertainment’ answer as to her career and the source of her money would fall through eventually... she had just hoped she could have held out until after he was out of college. Tatsuyo was a smart kid. Wicked smart and quiet... two qualities that didn’t really mix well with school. He had been bullied pretty heavily in middle and high school (though he took it very well) and she didn’t doubt for a second that if word got out to his school mates that is sister was a stripper... well... enduring the odd swirlie would pale in comparison. She looked down at her hands, her usual stoic figure suddenly assaulted by uncontrollable shakes. {“...dammit...”} She muttered, laughing dismally to herself and folding her hands back around her stomach. {“...never been this scared...”} Not even when she had faced down Walpurgisnacht had she been this terrified, this utterly afraid. Maybe it was because Homura and the rest of them weren’t there to back her up. {“...okay Kaname... you’ve got this... just... tell the truth. He’ll understand.”} She took a deep breath as she paced, sighing. {“...I hope...”}
The door opened a minute later – Madoka spending that time pacing back and forth across the room – as the bartender brought Tatsuyo back. {‘Oh... lord he looks so disappointed in me.’} Madoka thought, frowning a little as the door closed. Madoka managed to smile a little at him as he trudged over to the couch and sat down. {“A-aaah... h-hey... Tatsuyo-chan... It’s uh... it’s... been a bit since I saw you...”} She started with simply, her voice quavering in her throat.
{“It has.”} Tatsuyo answered with a nod, looking like he was still processing things. {“...and it’s been quite a bit of you I’ve seen tonight to boot.”} Madoka smiled a wary, wry smile at that.
{“H-haaaaaa... saw... saw the routine, did you?”}
{“All forty-five minutes of it.”} He leaned forwards and tented his fingers, resting his nose at the apex of the tent. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath. {“...when were you going to tell me? When did you decide would be the perfect time to tell me that my sister – the one woman in my life I look up to and respect more than anyone else – debases herself in a cesspool like this for a living?”}
{“O-oh, Tatsuyo... that’s... that’s not fair. This place is really nice when you think about it! I mean, did you see how clean we keep the-”}
{“Stop changing the subject, Madoka.”} He stared at her hard, causing her next words to choke in her throat. {“When were you going to tell me?”}
{“I had planned.”} Madoka admitted in a low tone, wringing her hands together at her stomach. {“I always did. I knew you’d get curious eventually, and my answers wouldn’t satisfy but... I was just... kind of hoping it would last a bit longer.”}
{“Uh-huh.”} Tatsuyo nodded. {“So you were just planning on lying to me ad infinitum until I... what? Stopped asking?”}
{“That’s-!”} Madoka huffed, puffing her cheeks out in frustration. {“I’ve never lied to you, Tatsuyo! You know that! Mom raised me better, and I would have thought I raised you better to know the difference between a-”} She stopped, realizing how stupid her next words sounded. {“...between a lie and a half-truth...”} She finished in a somber tone. {“I never lied. I told you all you needed to know for now. I work... in entertainment.”}
{“Yeah. As a prostitute-”}
{“Stripper, Tatsuyo!”} Madoka shrilled. {“I know you know the difference between the two!”} She deflated, running her hands through her hair. {“Look. I know, I messed up, okay? I know I should have told you a lot sooner but... I figured what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. You said it yourself, you’re not the kind of person who would go to a strip club... and the odds of you coming here were pretty low, considering how many strip clubs were in Mitakihara... aaaaaand I thought that it would be even lower of a chance for you to hang around for midnight for one of my sets... I banked a lot on who I knew you were so that you’d not find out until I was ready to tell you.”} Tatsuyo – his arms crossed – sighed.
{“...well, your assumption was spot-on. You’re right, I wouldn’t usually visit these kinds of places, and it was rather convienent that we came here, at this time... but that doesn’t excuse you keeping this from me.”} He thought for a moment. {“Why?”} He asked. {“Why a strip club of all places?”}
{“Okay look... here’s the full story. When mom and dad died, they left us both an inheritence, right?”} Tatsuyo nodded, having been told this before. {“Right. You were... very young when it happened, so I put your half in a savings account until you were sixteen.”} Tatsuyo nodded again, having also been told this before. {“You were eleven when you told me you wanted to be a doctor. When I was eleven, I could hardly say for certain what I wanted for dinner, much yet what I wanted to do when I was older... how you said it, how you told me and your foster parents that day at dinner... I knew you were serious. So... I decided I’d use your half of the inheritence for medical school.”}
{“All of this I know.”} Tatsuyo shrugged. He had given Madoka his blessing to use his half for this. {“What I don’t know is what you wasted your half on to make you have to debase yourself like this.”}
{“Wasted-!?”} Madoka looked genuinely hurt at this. She walked over and sat down next to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. {“Tatsuyo...”} She sighed. {“...your half wouldn’t cover all of medical school. Tokyo U is half a million yen a year in tuition. Your half covered a good portion of it, but not all of it. So, I sold the house, bought us that apartment... remember?”} Tatsuyo nodded. {“I used the rest of the money from the sale of the house... and the rest of my inheritence... to finish financing your school.”} She smiled as the realization dawned on him. {“You... you, little brother... you’re what I spent that money on. You, your future, your happiness. When you’d talk about being a great doctor I just... I couldn’t be selfish... couldn’t tell you that it was too expensive; that my whims were more important than your dreams. So I spent it all on you. I made damn sure you would have your dream.”} Tatsuyo froze. He never knew this. Whenever he’d ask how Madoka could afford his tuition, her response was always ‘don’t worry about it’. He had always figured she didn’t want him to learn because she didn’t want him to know how much money she didn’t have... but the truth was she didn’t want him to learn, because she didn’t want him to figure out what his dreams and education had cost her. Everything.
{“I don’t work here because I have to.”} Madoka finally spoke up, her hands now on his cheeks. {“I don’t dance for hundreds of people a night because I think I have no other choice. I dance... because it makes people happy.”} A pause. {“...and I make a killing off it. More than enough to keep food in my stomach, a roof over my and Shiroi-chan's head, and to spoil my little brother on the occasion. So... you can hate me as much as you want for not telling you sooner... you can think whatever you want of me for learning that your sister is a stripper... but you can’t tell me... that I debase myself. I love what I do. I do, honest! It gives me the kind of power I can’t explain... but more than that? It lets me do the one thing I love, more than anything else... it lets me provide and care for you. My last... only living family.”} She hugged him, and for the first time, Tatsuyo was lost for words. He just sat there feeling like he’d been punched in the gut by a high-speed industrial press. Madoka had given up her dreams for his? That didn’t make any sense... she was older, had more right to her dreams than he did to his... so why...
{“...madoka...”} He muttered, finally reclaiming the use of his limbs and wrapping his arms around his sister. {“...I’m sorry...”} He muttered, Madoka sputtering a laughcry as she held him tighter.
{“Shut up, idiot... you’ve got nothing to be sorry for... I should have come clean sooner... I was just waiting for you to graduate.”} Tatsuyo chuckled at this.
{“Well, I suppose in that you succeeded. I passed my final today... that’s why I was here. Got shanghai’d into a visit to celebrate.”} Madoka pulled away, her pink eyes sparkling with love and delight.
{“You did!?”} Tatsuyo nodded, smirking. {“Way to go little bro!”} She cheered, hugging him harder, rocking him from side to side. {“Ooooooh, I knew you could do it! Knew it, knew it, knew it!”} Tatsuyo laughed at his sister’s antics. Almost forty years old, and she still acts like a big kid some days.
{“Jeeze, Madoka... when will you ever grow up?”}
{“Never! You’ll have to pry my childhood from my cold, dead hands!”} The pair laughed, just as the door opened to Shiroi holding a box of tissues and some water.
{“Mandatory sob-story care package!”} She announced, placing the tissues on the couch next to Tatsuyo.
{“Thanks Nezumi-san.”} Tatsuyo smiled to her. {“So... guess you knew the whole time, huh?”}
{“Duh, yes.”} Shiroi smirked. {“She didn’t want me to tell you... I wouldn’t have anyway... not my place.”} Tatsuyo took one of the glasses of water and took a big drink. {“So, we all good?”} Tatsuyo chuckled.
{“Of course. Thank you, Nezumi-san... I still think you’re a... fuckin’ weirdo sometimes-”}
{“Tatsuyo has paid Shiroi a compliment!”} Shiroi announced, causing both Kanames to snort a chuckle.
{“...but you’re a weirdo with heart. You keep my sister on the straight and narrow, okay?”}
{“Oh, buddy.”} Shiroi rolled her eyes playfully. {“There ain’t shit straight about either of us.”}
{“Shiroi-chan!”} Madoka admonished her.
-
That morning found Shiroi and Madoka back at their small, one-bedroom apartment. It had been a long night and an even longer morning for Madoka, but the revelation of her profession to Tatsuyo had – strangely enough – invigorated her. So much so that not even at six AM could she get to sleep. As she sat at her computer – mindlessly scrolling through YouTube – she remembered the letter she had gotten earlier yesterday. Picking it up from the nearby vanity, she looked at it. The moment her gaze focused on the return address, she was filled with an urge to admonish Shiroi for not telling her who it was from! {“Shiroi-chan, you little...”} She glared over at the bed where Shiroi slept peacefully, all her anger fizzling. She opened the envelope and read the letter... though if she were being honest, she didn’t care about anything inside of it save for the fact that Mami wanted to see her again. Bringing up a time zone converter, she did the math on what time it would be in Mami’s neck of the woods. Smiling, she picked up her phone and walked out of her bedroom into the living room.
Riiing riiing. Riing riiing. Riiing rii- Three rings and a click before she was assailed with a voice speaking in a language she knew was English, but she couldn’t understand. {“Waaaah! I’m sorry, I don’t understand!”} Madoka practically wailed, overwhelmed by the English. She heard the voice gasp.
{“Kaname-san!? Is that you?!”} Madoka smiled broadly at the voice’s change to Japanese. Now that it was speaking a language she understood, she began to connect who it was. The voice was different than she remembered... but Mami’s voice was not one you’re liable to forget easily.
{“Mami-san! Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice again!”}
{“That is you, Kaname-san! Oh, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice again!”}
{“Same! I got your letter today. Something about wanting to meet up?”}
{“Yes! I sent those out to everyone! The only one who’s gotten back to me is Sakura-san, but I remain hopeful for everyone else. What about you? Are you okay with it?”} Madoka laughed a little.
{“Are you kidding? I get to hang out with my four best friends again! Of course I’m in! Hey hey... why don’t we meet up here?”} She paused for a moment, remembering Mitakihara isn’t exactly the shimmering metropolis it used to be. {“Eh... full disclosure, Mitakihara’s changed since you all left...”}
{“It doesn’t matter. I’d love to meet up at Mitakihara.”}
{“Excellent! I’ll look into hotel rooms for us.”}
{“I don’t suppose you have room for us at your place?”} Madoka almost split her gut laughing at this.
{“Oh, Mami-san, I didn’t realize you’d turned into such a joker! No... no, I only have one bed, and it’s currently occupado.”} Mami chuckled.
{“Well, I don’t think Akemi-san would mind.”}
{“So bad! But you’re not wrong. Okay, I’ll start looking into some hotels... the good ones. We’ll all have a week off, and just... hang out like we used to.”}
{“Hotels for the week? Are you able to afford that, Kaname-san? I can pitch in if you-”} Madoka grunted, shaking her head.
{“Mmm-mm. No, I won’t accept help. This is the least I can do for not trying to keep us all together more.”}
{“Kaname-san... that wasn’t your fault.”}
{“As Shiroi-chan's told me, but I still don’t believe it.”} There came a pause.
{“...Shiroi-chan?”} Madoka slapped her forehead gently.
{“Yeah, keep forgetting... uh... Shiroi-chan's... uh... my girlfriend.”} Mami laughed.
{“Oh, Akemi-san's going to love that.”}
{“Mami-san... you know I love Homura-chan to death but... I don’t know... not like that. She’s a great friend – the best friend a girl could ask for – but she’s... not there. Y'know, emotionally.”} Mami grunted, knowing this all too well.
{“Mmm, yes. I can see that. Do you think she’s... going to be okay with it?”}
{“Mami-san... we’ve been away from each other for twenty years. If Homura-chan still has those feelings for me, she’s almost certain to have killed them herself by now. She probably never thought she’d see me again.”} There came a pause. {“...what about Homura-chan...? Is she... coming?”}
{“Mmm... like I said, the only person who’s gotten back to me so far is Sakura-san... which surprises me immensely. I expected my letter to take a week or so to get to where you are, you’re halfway around the world from me. Sakura-san's just half a country away, so is Miki-san. Akemi-san's about as far away as you are, but in the other direction...”}
{“Where?”}
{“London, if you believe it.”} Madoka giggled.
{“I don’t.”} A pause. {“...but good for her.”} Another pause. {“...but I gotta ask... why’d it take you so long to get in contact? I mean, I know we kind of scattered, but...”}
{“You’ll never believe it. Someone gave me all of your addresses.”} Madoka blinked. Who would have that kind of information? More importantly, who would have that information that would actually care about them.
{“Really? Who?”}
{“Kyubey of all people.”} Madoka squinted, her eyes shifting towards her bedroom door.
{“...really?”} She asked flatly, Mami chuffing in the positive.
{“Surprised me as well! Well... I still don’t like him but... I suppose he at least did right by me.”} Madoka sighed and nodded.
{“Yeah. By all of us. Anyway... keep me in the loop. Let Sakura-san know I can’t wait to give her a big ol’ hug, and keep us appraised when you hear from Sayaka-chan and Homura-chan.”}
{“I will, Kaname-san. It’s been great hearing from you.”} A pause. {“Oh my! It must be very early for you! You should get some sleep!”} Madoka just yawned.
{“Yeah, I’ll do that... I think I can now.”} She smiled. {“It’s been great hearing from you, Mami-san. I can’t wait to see you.”}
{“Nor can I. Good night, Kaname-san.”} There came a click, followed by a busy tone. Madoka cut the call and lowered her phone, looking over to the hallway to her bedroom again.
{“Kyubey, huh...?”}