Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Society was cruel.

Nothing new about that, however.

A spineless act will get you cuddled in people's arms; any conformity is always expected to be followed; otherwise, that will earn a frown from those in the correct. Being yourself isn't as rewarding as following the pre-made mold. That's what you learned after the whole class looked at you weird when you were 15 years old and did something the majority deems unfit. Although at that time, you believed wholeheartedly that what you did was rightfully done. It wasn't.

It started out slow, leaking in every tiny bit of paranoia with silent coming your way. Then another disregard. Then became the last one to be picked for group work. As if to silently teach you, those who didn't follow the norm will be cast out in one way or another.

It was as painful as it was tiresome. For the longest time, you feel like your pride in something righteous doesn't matter as how many friends would let you sit at their lunch table.

But your spine still made it worse for you over time. It wouldn't let you sit still and laugh along with the girls who picked on another girl, nor would it let you ignore the tiniest remarks that boys made about each other; it made your stomach coil.

But it was to be fit in or to be an outcast.

Soon enough, you have to cram yourself inside such molds; the gut-punched reality isn't pretty. It was jarring how much society could shape people in an irredeemable way and robbed of every last bit of individuality, one way or another. You never dream big, nor did you outwardly have a goal in mind, but at some point in your childhood, you did like something enough to dream a career of it. Again, you try to fit in, too much, that you forgot a long time ago, what you truly want to be when you grow up.

Quite a basic question that got your 10-year-old eyes all sparkling. But right now, all you can do is jam on the keyboard amidst the unlit light of the office. It was dark by now, but the workload you have cast on yourself, no, the workload your co-worker has put on you has you working overtime. You might want to fit in to a certain degree, not to look like a sticking thumb, but gosh, you wish you had a power to act all cutesy to get on your greasy old boss's good side, so this shit ton of paperwork is dumped on someone else.

You don't mind someone acting extra just to get some favors, hell, but you don't want to be the one who does all this shit alone.

Only if another work pays as much as this, you wouldn't uphold any bullshit and just quit to find another minimum wage office job. But is it still worth all the endurance you put in these past years? Absolutely not. No work would be. It's not worth it to put all you are for a company that sees you as a replaceable cog. You remind yourself that every day, for another time, you'd feel like it's enough and hand in your resignation.

A big sigh left your mouth as the letters in front of you started to look nonsensical. Your left fingers hit the shortcut for saving the documents before closing your eyes, legs pushing the ground, making the chair move away from the desk.

You really work hard, day in and day out. For what?

For the dream that didn't come true? For the dying inner child that yearns to be something?

But the answer might be quite simple. You just choose to be in the mold over being yourself; you thought you did it for your mentality, but it turns out in the long run, it's not. And maybe, it's a little bit too late to take a turn for the better.

Your right hand reached for the phone on the table, the case had worn out so much that the tiny flakes on the border started to fall apart. You forgot time and time again that you need a new one.

Scrolling through and through on one social media, then switching to another since the current timeline doesn't quite show what you want to see.

As you slump on your chair, feeding your brain an easy dose of dopamine, it could wear off as soon as the light on your phone goes out. You started to feel a bit sleepy. But you continued, refreshing the timeline and see what you could feed your brain before continuing to work for another hour.

Then you stopped at one particular news on the top of the page. You weren't sure what face you made, but you were certain it was a bit wavered. A familiar name plastered on top of the picture, as well as a familiar face, you couldn't mistake those teal eyes anywhere. Mixed feelings, or a livid one, you felt quite jealous and longing. Despite not reading all the plethora of text, you were quite sure what kind of praises and heed were written above. You could only focus on that picture.

Itoshi Rin.

He has grown so much since you last saw him. When was it again? Around when you were fifteen? If you're not mistaken, or if you didn't count the time you saw him on television, that is.

His frame has grown stronger, eyes untamed, contradicting to Rin you held in your memories. That Rin was, well, cuter. But what in the past will no longer be present, only the facade of what could have been. You don't like how your own feelings lead you by the nose and patronize someone else to make you feel less unfair. But you envy how someone you knew for half of your life has such success, you could only dream, while he was out there, living the life of a soccer superstar.

Your fingers scrolled down a bit, and thus the autoplayed video of him right under the previous post came into your cognition. The loud cheer, the narrator's voice, goes to your left then right ears. Your eyes look through it without registering what's happening. Vast space in the back of your mind can't help but wonder, what if you were more daring? What if you weren't worried so much about what other people think? Could you achieve it, whatever you dreamed of?

And if you were brave enough, you may not accept Rin's feelings at that time after all.

Your eyelids are getting heavier, thus you shake your head quickly, hoping it'll rattle away any vacant slumber that lures you in.

But gosh, you worked so much for today, a nap wouldn't hurt.

After all the painful realizations and journey of adulthood, surely you can reward yourself with a quick nap, right? Just so you can type and make sense of all that bullshit of an essay again.

So, you close your eyes a bit.

But little did you know. That tiring demand to rest wasn't a cry for a quick nap; it was a final call from your brain that it was in dire need of 10 hours of sleep.

The kick echoed through gray chambers. It's eleven PM sharp, and some of the players are still practicing, pushing themselves over their limit, as it was one of many ways they know to improve. It wasn't necessary, still. They should've rested in their bed and practiced the next day. However, it was easier said than done, as somewhat boiling adrenaline still seeps through every last bit of their body.

Especially Rin, it should've worn off by the first time he took a shower, but it's still burning deep. Trying to release unknown feelings is like a wild goose chase. It may not be the first time it enters him physically, but all he knows is to repress something he deems unimportant, thus casting away every last bit of attention for them. As a result, this time, he feels extra frustrated to be exposed to it.

He wiped away his strand of hair that blocked his view, which was soaked in sweat, feeling another length of annoyance. As the ball was shot off the machine from the corner, Rin paced himself and swatted his legs as fast to score immediately. Instead of a clean shot straight to the net, the ball hit the upper corner of the pole and sprang off to the back of the room. That loud clank was enough to pull some eyes, but to know whose that miss was is attracting that so much more.

"Rinrin, that miss was even cleaner than your hat-trick today." A sing-song voice of Shidou Ryusei called out, earning a wave of laughter from others, mixed with a scoff from Rin himself. "Are you feeling unwell? Aw, should've rested instead, baby Rinrin."

"At least I have done something while you were benched the whole game. Violence-crazed bastard." He was annoyed, not so sure at what, but Shidou surely added fuel to the flame.

"Hey! Not my fault that the host team was boring as shit! They deserve a little nudge to get more excited, don't cha agree?" His voice was all cheerful, free of all care in the world. It would be pleasing to hear if he wasn't implied to the fact that he jumped at the opponent and almost kneed the referee in the face. And that's the better self-control compared to the one he had when he was younger.

Freak. That was all Rin could mutter out in ire while walking out of the chamber, grabbing his towel along, swinging it across his shoulder. Another shower is waiting; he shouldn't put his past time to care about the bullshit Shidou spilled. 

At this late hour, not many shower stalls are occupied, so Rin took this advantage to be alone. 

The faucet was a bit stiff, but it was overpowered by his athletic strength. The hot stream of water ran down against his body, head to toe. Rin supported himself with two arms resting on the wall, eyes closing. Those strange feelings never run dry, only grow as the droplets of water hit every part of him, including sensitive areas. He shifted uncomfortably as he noticed something. His own erection.

He's not the same as his high-school self anymore, knowing full well that he is in dire need of releasing. But hence, he's embarrassed by such desire, so much so that he gritted his teeth hard and left his jaws sore and numb. The heat was rising from the base to top, also from his stomach to his face.

Rin wanted to ignore this as much. He jerked himself off in a shower so many time, again and again, but it will never go away. So instead of trying to find permanent solution, he categorized this feelings as nuisance and gives zero damn to unravel what's underneath.

But deep down he does know it lacks of warmth whenever he works on his shaft. The calloused hands of his don't help much.

He gripped the base and started rolling his thumb onto the length, circling until it's throbbing. Then slowly, with a sigh coming off his mouth, he thrusted his dick into his own palm, building more of the coil for him to chase. The wave of pleasure seeps through every drag he made, he pierces harder.

Rin never slept with anyone, never gave it a thought. It would be a nuisance to put all the care into someone he doesn't know long. So he doesn't bother. Let all the pent-up feelings pile onto one another, then masturbate only after he's agitated by it enough.

Then his mind wandered, while his arms started moving to match his own thrust, making each wave of pleasure followed by wet skin on wet skin noise. He wasn't outrightly taken aback by it, instead, he immersed into one particular memory of certain someone. Or to be precise, an imagination of the one he repressed into the back of his mind.

He felt disgust at himself, but too horny to stop all of this. He even thrust harder, gripping on tighter, agape his mouth wider, all because of you.

You.

His first-ever love. A young and stupid kind of love, which still left him with an impression of scar, or whatever kept him up at night for the longest time.

He saw you earlier on your family's insta post that day. He remembered how you looked older than he remembered. You looked tired, with a smile crafted only for the camera coming your way, an attire for office work that suits you a bit too well, and a pencil skirt in dark colors, covering your leg's top half while the slit peeks your hidden skin.

He gritted his teeth, feeling dirty more than disgusted, or an equal mix of both. He worked on his shaft even harder, imagining it was you –in your itty bitty pencil skirt.

Would you spread your legs nice and wide for him if he begged? Would your pussy sucked him in as he shuddered and cowered by your warmth? Would you call his name with your ever sweet tone while panting for air?

While his heart clenched for a tang bitterness from years ago, his hand and waist worked in harmony to chase the sweet release. He felt a tight knot build up inside his stomach as his groin shuddered at the imagination of you, Rin gasp. A rope of cum plastered across the shower room wall, as his thighs all tensed, supporting him from a recoil of ejaculation.

He panted, slowly, the high from pleasure disappeared, coming all his senses. Rin clicked his tongue as he applied soap quickly and washed away whatever was left from the previous session. Much to his disregard, he thinks that it helps better than keeping his desire up.

Rin turned off the faucet and pulled his towel to wipe away any dampness. Yeah, that helped. But also missing warmth, it left him vacant. Maybe that's also the reason why he doesn't like it.

After putting on his night attire, Rin heard someone walking a bit too frantically from door to door in the hallway. He didn't bother, as the ones who'd tick him off, would find a way to tick him anyway. And as he thought, the changing room's door slid open, and there stood his mortal enemy, Isagi Yoichi.

"Ah, there you are." So he really did try to find him. His voice is a bit cheerful and relieving. "Guess I'm on the right track to think you'd take a shower after practice."

"What is it, lukewarm?" Rin never dropped the nickname even after all these years. Isagi later found it rather amusing that he was continuously building his character around it; instead of being the receiving end, Isagi also threw in some punches.

"Not so perfect hat-trick gives you the gloom, I see." Rin wasn't impressed with that, however. He would never be impressed, as the days grow, Isagi would hand him comebacks without the real need to hurt his feelings. And that's the greatest insult to man. "But hey, I'm not here to pick a fight, Mr. Ego wants to see you."

"For what reasons? It's past my bedtime."

"Personal checkings, I believe."

Personal, huh?

"In these past years, he never did that lukewarm 'personal checkings' before," Rin commented, his voice rather annoyed than making actual remarks. "Did you come back from one?"

"Uh, yeah, you can say that." 

Seems like whatever it is, Isagi won't leak much information. And Rin will not put any more thought into it.

"Tch." Rin swung the towel across his shoulder again and walked past Isagi without a second glance. "Whatever the hell that checking is, I'll make it quick, so it doesn't waste my time."

"This, for once, isn't about competition, Rin," Isagi said. It's not enough for Rin to stop walking down the hall, away from him. But he chose to say it anyway. "Just answer Mr.Ego truthfully, and you'll be fine, I guess."

Rin turned half of his head around to send Isagi one last glare. But to see Isagi's mouth turning a bit upward, it pissed him off.

"I don't need your suggestion."

"Trust me, this time I'm being for real."

For once, Rin didn't look back or say a thing. Just walking straight to Ego's office.

All the same, the aesthetic of this place is quite unpleasing to be in. Reminding Rin back to his younger days inside Blue Lock, gray walls, dimming lights, and little to no sun from the outside world. And it's even more suffocating to be in Ego's office, a darker shade, the only light sources are from the computer and one large screen. All around worst for athletes' eyes.

Ego was still entering data via screen-typing after Rin came into the room. No greetings, no noise, just a little glance of acknowledgement. He was always like this, a man whose pace theoretically centered around himself and none others. Rin never thought of Ego's action as of anything but a ladder to climb on, thus no opinion was made along the way.

"You must know a bit from Isagi that this is sorta personal checkings." He started, and Rin listened. "I need to collect data because of, say, an interesting occurrence with our player this year."

"Just make this over with, cut to the point."

"Still have that youth impetuous, I see." Ego didn't show a single muscle move in his expression, as to mean Rin's words didn't shake anything in him. " It'll be worthwhile in the long run. As you're also the reason why this happened at all."

However, that ticked Rin.

"I'm a part of the reason?"

"Or to say, it correlates with this day's hat-trick of yours. If I have to cherry-pick."

The matter-of-fact comment threw Rin into a bit of a spiral. And his irritation was ever so visible for Ego to see, all his lowered eyebrows, his piercing eyes, and the clenches of his jaws. It wasn't something Ego needed to test on, he knew it would shake Rin's pride, that's good, all egoist need their confidence check.

"If it's about performance, you don't have a say in this. We've been long since getting your word post-blue lock."

As to say 'I can take care of myself, don't need your concern, lukewarm.'

"I know, but well, answer me truthfully, for improvements." He then pulled out another tablet. A brief peek at Rin's data was visible before he leaned onto the share and used the stylus to scratch on the side of his head, looking down at the screen. "Do you regularly have sex?"

Now, that made Rin's brain short-circuit.

"...Come again?"

"Pay attention," Ego didn't waver, still waiting to use his stylus. In contrary, Rin just stared as if Ego had grown a second head. "Do you regularly have sex?"

"...No."

"In the past month, have you had intercourse at least once?"

"Also no."

Rin felt like his face was burning. He should find this irritating, but the fact that something he tries so hard to repress would always resurface to the top will always take the cake.

So this is why Isagi was making that face.

Lukewarm.

"I see," just a small remark made Rin wants to end it all. "This week, have you ever ejaculated at least once?"

"What could these questions possibly lead to, if not another lukewarm of your solution? No one wants any of that bullshit." He held back a little. If it wasn't for such an absurd query that caught him off guard, he might found another bunch of words in his vocabulary to jab at Ego. He wanted this to end as fast as possible, but the questionnaire itself isn't helping. 

"We'll see about that. So, your answer?"

"...Yes."

"Next will be a bit more personal. Don't take this any other way but to be a useful input." Rin went quiet after Ego's words. Bickering won't make his suffering end, but replying to any question coming his way is. "Have you known your likings? I don't need your details, just yes or no."

"No."

"To add to the previous question, have you ever explored your preference?"

"...Also no."

"Okay." As the seemingly last answer was replied, Ego put down his stylus, as well as the tablet, splaying all the data for Rin to look at. "Here are correlations with the survey I've been gathering for months after the last division league. Quite unfortunate, but alas, not so surprising."

Rin looked down at the screen, upside down, a bit hard to make sense of from such angles. But he did notice the colored graphs, which slowly and unevenly declined to the middle of the tabulation. Now that has to do with something, and the possible outcome isn't going to be very likable, as Rin thought back to the shower time before coming here.

"Were those questions have to do with anything?" His voice lowered, and irritation seeped through every last bit of it. He might connected the dots, but his mind refused to acknowledge that what might have been deemed true.

"Just listen, idiot." Ego clicked his fingers down on the table, to keep Rin's attention as well as to input some thoughts in his own head. The voiding, uninterested black eyes of his always find the most discomfort in people without remorse, including his own pupils. "What I meant when I said 'quite unfortunate' is not over the top; however, the effect it had was still quite intriguing. Sexual frustration does find common among athletes after all."

Rin's throat got uncontrollably tighter at that. What he was concerned about was an actual issue. Of course, he didn't take it very well. "And what would you do about it? Recommend to us which brothel is good? Fucking lukewarm."

"Arguably." The young man's brow raised ever so slightly at the answer. "But that's just a tad bit too full of risk. Allegedly, prostitution is the way out. If you'd like to get involved with some annoying shits after. STDs, yakuzas, laws, and PR problems."

The older man adjusted his glasses before continuing. "However, we could solve this problem as easily if you could understand the root of it. Sexual frustration stems from an imbalance or dysfunction between training and sexual needs. While it doesn't hurt your performance outright, in the long run, it could cause you permanent risk."

He then finally flipped over the tablet so Rin could see the chart more clearly, and when his brain started to understand it a bit by bit, his face wavered.

"This can't be," Rin muttered between his breaths. It's not the graph that was created after the last division league, it's the chart since his years in blue lock. The very first few grids were all through the roof, then a bit lower but quite steady, then the last three years weren't so pleasing. Not outrageously declined, yet still cast Rin in a darker haze. To witness the visible white gap between the very start of his career and now is quite jarring, throwing him under the impression of losing to Isagi or whatever the hell he has faced.

"...Outrageous, incompetence, absolute dismay!"

The paperwork flew over and hit atop of your cowering head as you muttered a bunch of 'my apologies'. You weren't scared, no, it's just easier to bend your back forward and show you're sorry than to listen with your face showing. You might slip a tiresome smirk or an automatic eyeroll, and that could get you in trouble. Right, you overslept in the office, and the one who found you was none other than your department manager. He was itching to snitch, and you knew it; that man never liked anyone, excluding the girl who kept her cute attitude and rubbed him in the right way.

He stood and bent beside you, as if to apologise on your behalf. You would not be surprised if this man won an Oscar for any department. He should be the star with how good he lies.

"It's my fault that my subordinate is hopeless. My apologies."

How nice, Japanese people always valued punctuality until it's clock out of work time. But why are you being so mad at if you're doing what they like? Working overtime until you bleed and being earlier to work than your boss? What irony.

Welp, maybe because they never welcome staying over in the office anyway. Oops.

"Do you know how much you cost me -the company in damages?!" The paperwork was still flying and landing perfectly on your bent back. You had your limits, and it could grow tiresome if the universe kept testing you. Still, you can hold on to your sanity tight enough. "Sleeping while working overtime, how much more of an incompetent a woman could you be! You didn't even submit the surveys on time; that's the easiest task. Unbelievable!"

"My apologies, Mr.Nobusato. I'll resubmit it as fast as possible." It became pre-made at this point; you cannot find your genuine sorry in your own words. That's the spell of what working in a modern-day capitalist company does to you. "And the rest of the work will be done by 4 pm sharp; it won't happen again."

"Of course it won't. You're fired!"

Your eyes widened a bit; his rage has overwhelmed him in the most carnal way possible. Contrary to your stillness of emotions, maybe the shock hasn't registered yet, or perhaps you were just... too tired to care at this point. You were sure that if you glanced up to meet his eyes, your boss would tear you to shreds with his hands. Albeit you were threatened, it was somewhat relieving to hear that you're not the one who resigned from this work yourself. Still, it's quite baffling to listen to it for the first time in your life, not through manga, not through any media, but through your own ears.

But to your disbelief, the department manager is the one who shot himself up with dread in his eyes. "No, boss! Please reconsider! Sh- She may be hopeless, but she is still our department's backbone!" 

So he was afraid that no one was going to work for him in your place.

"Whatever, it's your job to deal with that hopelessness. I put trust in you to finish the assigned work. And you dare use all the sweet time to sleep like a goddamn log, instead of working for the job you paid for." Mr.Nobusato stood firm on his decision, unwavering. A bloodshot glare directly sent your manager cowering back to his previous posture; visible beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, quite amusing. "No change to the verdict, pack your things, sign the papers, and get out before tomorrow!"

It was far quieter than any movie lets it, to know that the night after tomorrow, you'd only have your savings to struggle through each day before you can find another job.

You could laugh at yourself, stress causing you to try to survive in many ways, one of which was retail therapy and overspending on goods to keep you sane. You were pretty sure you couldn't last longer than a month.

Then, you felt a light jab on your side; your manager sent you a glare, which, in comparison, was more cowardly than Mr. Nobusato's. His voice was low, only audible to you. "You say something! You wanna keep this job or not, weirdo ?!"

...Weirdo, huh?

You never heard that directed to you before, outwardly speaking. 

Mentally, you sighed. "I respected your decision."

"Wha-"

You cut the manager off first, once and for all.

"I'm planning to resign for a while now, thank you for taking care of me for this respective five years." Slowly, you raised your head. This is not acceptance of fate, yet you find it tiresome to be stubborn. So you won't. "I believe there is a leaving pay, right?"

Mr.Nobusato glared at you; you could feel it burning on top of your head. That was a tad bit too cheeky, yet you make a call for it anyway.

"The paper will be on your desk, and close the damn door on your way out."

Alas, your manager let out a croak of defeat.

And you welcome the fresh air of being unemployed.

Not even two more steps outside of his office, a previous light jab from your manager became a forceful grip on your forearm. You winced out of surprise more than the grasp's heavy sting. "You will never work in this town again...!"

"What?" You raised your brows, as if looking at the most idiotic man alive. "I'm getting fired as you wish, aren't you glad, manager?"

"You stupid-"

"Or you are frightened by the fact that when I'm gone, all the works you dump on me will return to you?" You let out an amused scoff. "Ah, or maybe because you have to manage more workload due to my future absence? Shame."

"Run your mouth all you want. No company around here in this town will take you in." He snarled while pointing a finger into your face, then jammed it on your collarbone, hard enough to push you a few steps back. "A small town like this can spread rumour as fast as wildfire. No one ever loses their job without being questioned. Why would they lose it in the first place? I hope you're aware of what that fucking means."

"I know."

"You're goddamn cog," He almost jammed your shoulder again as you swiftly moved back a bit. He then scoffed. "Don't be so proud; anyone can replace you."

You walked away from him without another word audible.

As you thought, any company you sent a resume to has a very late response. Furthermore, some of them were quick to reject, given reasons are inexperience, workplace environment, adapting abilities, and the list could go on. It had been almost a week since you tried to apply for another job, yet you couldn't find any. 

A coil of anxiety had crept up on you; however, you find this break quite a breath of fresh air. You don't have to wake up early to do makeups and clock in work ahead of your time. You don't have to feel like walking on eggshells while talking to a superior. And you also don't have to do other people's work and mess up. Just you lying around, send a resume, then find something to eat.

Much as it's a shame, you realized that your savings can help you for two weeks top. You have to prepare for paying rent and electricity, then groceries and other needs. Time won't stop just because you're struggling to get through more days anyway.

With that thought, you got gloomy fast.

Funny enough, when people felt fear or sadness, somehow their libido would present itself in the most unwelcome way. As if to beg you that it could tone any pang in your heart down.

Sigh. A quick dopamine it is.

You open an incognito tab as you search for porn to watch. But instead of your regular site, there was an ad on top of it. Usually, you'd pay this no mind and continue your journey, but the passage is quite eye-catching, as is the logo on the side.

That was Blue Lock's logo; you'll never mistake it for something else.

Then there's the headline:

'Inexperienced is welcome; Blue Lock's Flesh and Hedonism program employment application.'

Your eyes blink repeatedly.

"Flesh and Hedonism...?" You muttered as if you weren't so sure what you just read. But the curiousity get the better of you as you click on the blue passage.

It popped out deep blue with a moving background. The website itself doesn't look like a scam at all; hell, it looked like a well-paid development with all clean and pleasing UIs. You wished your late company's website looked this engaging; it was old, as slow as a damn turtle, and crashed more than you mentally did. So, you read everything with light-hearted captivation, as if you're already secured the job. But as much as you are excited to read whatever this description is, you couldn't be sure that this is legally possible.

Just a few sentences in:

'Welcome to Flesh and Hedonism Program, a program under Blue Lock's facility, aiming for the research of sexual depravity alleviation in athletes.

Frustration that stems from carnal needs can lead one athlete from a minor loss of focus to a major decline in performance. This is caused by many layers of problems, heightened sexual desire, repressed emotions, adrenaline, etc. Which was never addressed between the athletes and their professionals themselves. We'd prefer not to have our prodigies fall into the pit of stray, as they are our hope in the near future. We'd like you to be a part of our experiment and improve Japan's soccer together.

As the "Sex Therapist" for the soccer team.'

You stopped right there before continuing.

Great, there is a quote-unquote on the sex therapist part. So they weren't really seeking a therapist in a clinical sense, but they are looking for someone to relieve their men in the most carnal way.

You felt irony in how much it draws you in, just to make you scrunch your face up hard in disbelief. God was testing your sanity again. You were this close to finding something real and not about working overtime until you die, just for it to be certified prostitution. You groaned hard, feeling betrayed by everything in your life. 

You let yourself slump into a chair for a good minute, then get up just to close the tab. Maybe you can just get a part-time job while waiting for a response from another company, hopelessly holding on in motion. Or just thought of getting out of this town once and for all, so you could escape your old company's shadows.

Yet, as the cursor pointed to the X button, you stopped yourself.

But what if this is the only way out? What if it's the right call? What if this is a sign?

Bitterly, you straightened your back and read more of the application. This was not your dream job when you were young, nor even when you were a teen. The closest thing to this was how you thought you could pull being a sugar baby to a hot older guy. But that was a dream; your reality never fed you the seed of hope or entertained your silly thought, long since you've become an adult.

'Unrelieved sexual desire could be the root of the problems, and so does hormonal reward of winning and losing the game. Therefore, we need both "relief" and "reward system" issued from Flesh and Hedonism's service. You'll play the part as both a trophy to win and a way to assist with problems.

Job criteria: sexual service, perform acts as requested, and assisting on checking up athlete's performance.

Working hours: 5-6 hours, starting at 4 PM

Salary: ¥250,000, overtime ¥10,000/hour, negotiable.

Send in job application via email: [email protected]'

Wow.

250,000 yen? 

That was close to your recent salary, and it is negotiable?

Your breath hitched. This isn't your profession at all. Heck, you have little to no sexual experience to do such a job, as sex work isn't easy. You just can't imagine just randomly wanting to suck someone in the mouth at the club, while other girls collegues of yours are so easy to find someone to take home with. You don't understand, but you feel kind of respect that they can just do that. 

Your pride isn't showing in the presence of that ton of money, but insecurities are. But honestly? Just another application won't hurt. In case anything happens, you could just send your parents a pre-written dying message, assuming the worst will help you survive, though it might evoke your anxiety a little too much for your liking.

Thus, you drop your resume and sent to the stated email.

Just to hope that this will change your life around, if not much, then a little bit will do.