QUEEN

Is this the wrong number? Kikumi thought to herself after multiple attempts of trying to unlock her apartment. Is it possible that they gave me the wrong key? Or perhaps this is the wrong building? No no. She tried twice more before halting and scanning the three-digit number written on a scrap of paper. It was the correct apartment number, so again, she tried, and she was relentless. Completely impossible when it came to giving up, she kept at it and believed that prevailing was the only option; no matter if it took hours. Thankfully, it didn't. An inaudible click was the sound of her success, and she jumped for joy as the key pivoted sideways. "Yes, yes, yes!" She said while entering the apartment. Her heels clacked against the tile, the apartment was roughly the size of her old room and she couldn't help but relish its petite interior.

"No wine from France?" Kikumi mused. It unsettled her to the core, how such a modernized city lacked a bar with a proper assortment of alcoholic beverages. Savages, everyone in the outside world seemed to be. Uncultured and narrow-minded. "My father only drank wine. French wine was his least favorite, but even he had it. I loved it." She spoke to the bartender, who was wiping down the counter top. "Never had it," Said the man, and Kikumi couldn't imagine never tasting it. "Oh, you haven't lived! Well, I mean, you have. But it's very good. I remember, there was this amazing one. White, I believe. It was bland, fairly old. Oh, what I would do to have some of that again." And with that, she brought her glass up to her mouth. It was red wine, mediocre. As Kikumi took a swig, she looked around. A middle-aged couple sat eating at a dimly lit booth, a man in business attire downing an American beer. Hmph, what a slow day. She swished the remainder of wine in her crystal. The bartender was now serving another man who sat at the bar, a few seats down. She watched. There was multiple helpings of food in front of him, yet he was unaccompanied.

Bar stool by bar stool, Kikumi narrowed down the distance between them. The man didn't seem to notice. She was unsure of whether he was listening, but that didn't hold her back. The thought of spending her whole night quietly and alone was not particularly inviting. "You're quite ravenous, aren't you? You must be breaking a few world records by eating that much food in such a short amount of time! And if not that, at least transcending some form of reality, don't you think?"

((mei-senpai is adorable I love you))

Her back to the front of the bar, Kikumi was gingerly cleaning the crystal glasses when a voice, which she was not too sure was directed at her, barely punctured the babble of various drunken customers. "Huh?" She said, averting her attention to the person who was speaking to her. "Oh, yes, shaken not stirred     eh? Life at a bar, or life working at a bar? Well, it's quite alright! I do like it, I've never worked before... Thankfully, I don't break up fights. The men do that most of the time. It's much too physical for someone like me.."

The outside world was not something she desired. It was not something worth exploring, it was content with being dangerous and completely unjust. Kikumi had come to this conclusion many years ago when she stripped it bare. In doing this, she frequently stumbled upon cruelty, and when goodness seemed to prevail, she found small slivers of darkness creeping into the light of it. She was witness to the universe's biggest mistake, and although her outlook on life was strictly optimistic, she couldn't help but fall into a small cavity of pessimism when it came to the world. And what she had done to the world   stripped it bare   did the exact same to her. Her teeth chattered, her knuckles grew white as her fingers clung to the small box of cleaning supplies she had received as a gift. Kikumi felt exposed, something besides the moon was watching her. This was a feeling she had never succeeded at evading.

After a long while of walking through the dark outskirts of the city, shivers came and her hands grew clammy. She put the box down out of fear that it would fall from her grasp, and huffed out a few breaths. You know someone's going to try and murder you, don't you understand that, Kikumi? Of course, she thought, and I am well equipped at doing the same. But don't you know that they'll do it when you're alone, when you're vulnerable and without a weapon? I have a weapon! She huffed out again and folded her arms. Kikumi talked to her inner monologue while walking at a pace that was much too quick for someone who wasn't nervous about the position they found themselves in. I'm fine, I'm going home with all my new things. No one's going to hurt me, I've got my gun. It's in my box      the box that you just set down? She stopped dead in her tracks, looked around. There were masses of people, many of which shuffled around her. Had she wandered onto a street near the alleyways? No, there was no time to think of that. Her gun was no longer with her, sitting in a opened up cardboard box on a dank alley     

She turned to make a run for it, but there was someone who had not quite understood sidewalk etiquette and had done more than just bumped into her. "Please, please excuse me," She said, talking to a chest, staring at a dog tag. A.... Dog tag? "I'm so very sorry, you must believe me." Her eyes barely flickered up at the man. Someone had given her a rundown of his features days ago, but it was the dog tag, if all fails the dog tag will be the indicator. Oh God, no, oh please God. "I'm so scared." Tears were welding in her eyes, she forced them to fall. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She bit her lip as her arms wrapped around the man's torso. "I'm scared, you wouldn't believe how scared I am. I have to walk through the alleys to get to my house, please walk me there. It'd be so kind if you could walk me there."