Haruka Sawamura's eyes lingered on the automatic doors. Try as she might to look at what she was doing, they kept flitting back. Not for any reason, she wasn't expecting anyone to be there, but this city always put her on edge.

The hood of her white jacket was worn up, hiding her face just ever so slightly. There was a squirming in her stomach, like something bad was just about to happen. That feeling never really went away.

She moved to the counter and set down a convenience store bento box and a carton of cigarettes with a small stack of paper yen on top. The short-haired kid behind the counter was trying very hard to seem enthused about such a minor transaction. She appreciated the effort though. There weren't a lot of people in this city who would even pretend to give a shit. She gave him a kind smile as he put her stuff in a plastic bag.

A whistle from her right. Haruka tensed up. She'd let her eyes off the door for just a second. The cheery, automatic voice chimed in from the overhead speakers as a young punk with bleached blond hair and a too big jersey sauntered in.

"That was pretty sexy there. You should smile more often."

Haruka's smile dropped pretty quickly.

"I was just leaving." she muttered.

The guy said nothing. He did, however, step to block her exit, and by now his four buddies had filtered in as well.

The one sticking closest to jersey guy had a faux-silk, purple, button up shirt, hair slicked back. He looked like a wannabe player plus about 200 pounds.

Behind him was a guy putting on the barest attempt at class, wearing a navy blazer over his stark white t-shirt and faded jeans. His smile was slimy enough to grease an engine.

Coming in on jersey's left was a bald guy, tank top two sizes too small. He had a couple visible tattoos around his collarbone, but not yakuza tattoos. Small, ordinary, street punk tattoos.

Contrasting him and bringing up the rear, was a guy in multiple baggy shirts and a knit cap. How he wasn't dying of heat stroke, Haruka wasn't sure, but she could see him sweating from here.

"In fact," jersey continued. "You kinda look like... Shit, who was that idol from way back when?"

"Which one?" Blazer asked.

"The one that looks like her, dumbass."

"Haruka-chan." Tank top covered him.

"That was the one! Damn, she was cute."

"Mana-chan was cuter." Silk added.

"Shut the fuck up, idiot! You don't know what you're talking about, fawning after that beached whale."

Haruka wasn't trying to draw attention to herself, but now looked like the best time to try and slip away. Jersey noticed and moved to block her again.

"Sorry, got distracted, what I was trying to say is, me and my bros here were looking for a pretty girl to have fun with on our night out on the town. Don't usually go for you older types, but I still got that kid boner for Haruka-chan, so we thought we might try something different tonight."

Jersey's hand was suddenly on her waist and heading south.

Haruka panicked. Her eyes scanned the convenience store. Aside from the five of them, herself, and the kid behind the counter, it was empty. The clerk looked like he was halfway to calling the cops. Haruka didn't have the time for him to make it that last 50%.

She placed her bag down and steadily grabbed jersey by both shoulders. His buddies gave a celebratory whoop, and he had a grin from ear to ear.

Haruka worked to steady her breathing. Deep, thoughtful, purposeful breaths. In, out, in, out.

She wound her head back. The smile on jersey's face dipped ever so slightly.

In.

Out.

She shot forward, slamming her forehead into his. He collapsed onto his back, with dazed, unfocused eyes. Haruka nursed the bruise on her forehead.

"What the fuck?" Silk screamed. He darted forward and grabbed her by the wrist. Haruka spun, turning away, and grabbed his wrist right back. She brought his arm over her shoulder, then yanked it down, felt the pop of it dislocating, and then with a grunt of exertion and twist of her hips, flipped him over, slamming him into the tiled ground. She stomped his face for good measure, and he curled up, holding onto his broken nose with his one good hand.

Haruka flipped her hood down, the lengthy ponytail spilling out, twisting and writhing towards the small of her back like a dragon in flight.

Blazer, tank top, and knit cap nervously put their fists up. Tank top charged first, Haruka ducked the hook to her head and grabbed the closest thing her fingers could find and smashed it into his face as she rose back up. Strawberry-flavored candies went everywhere, tank top didn't seem especially hurt by the hit, but one of the candies found its way into his throat and he was choking trying to cough it back up.

Blazer was rushing in now, and she aimed an arcing punch at his head. His arms went up, blocking the hit, so Haruka pulled him in close and sent a knee to his balls. Blazer bent at the waist, hands immediately going to cover the already aching area. Haruka rocked his chin with an uppercut, straightening him back up, then launched a kick into his chest, sending him flying back into a shelf of batteries.

Haruka bent her extended leg at the knee and reversed the momentum, shooting it back behind her to catch knit cap in the chest, sending him stumbling back. Using her grounded foot, she jumped, spinning in the air, landing on the opposite leg, and striking him with a kick to the ear that knocked him to the ground.

Tank top was still gasping to her side, so she swung a clothesline into his gut, sending the candy flying out of his mouth like a cannon and sending him flying back into one of the glass doors, forming a spider web crack throughout the glass pane on the impact.

The doors, a little late, sensed the movement and opened. Tank top fell backwards and laid spread eagle in the middle of the entrance, preventing the doors from closing and causing the chirpy girl greeting Haruka from the speakers to start repeating herself.

Haruka looked around at the five unconscious bodies sprawled out in the middle of the convenience store. She really hadn't wanted to draw attention to herself like this.

"Oh," Haruka suddenly remembered the clerk. "I'm so sorry, I- I'll pay for any of the damages."

The clerk was shook, literally shaking where he stood, but a glint of resolve lit up from the back of his eyes when he turned towards Haruka.

"Don't worry about it," he insisted. "I'll clean this up. Just get out of here."

"Thank you!"

She bowed and tucked her ponytail back into her hood and flipped it up and grabbed her bag and ran. Out the door and down Tenkaichi Street, turning right at Taihei Boulevard and not stopping till she finally reached the Champion District. She worked her way through the tiny, crowded alleyways of tiny, crowded bars until she reached a cubby with a lovingly etched plank of wood above the door that read "Bohemia".

The little bell over the door let out a soft sound as she slipped inside. Several people were seated about the place, drinking, laughing, chatting louder than normal, yelling things like "Another round!", and flirting with the bartender in the low-cut blue dress. Her name was Natsuko, but they probably didn't know that.

Haruka made to move past them and up to her room.

"Haruka?" Natsuko called out.

Haruka made the mistake of sparing her a glance.

"Haruka, what happened to you?" she gasped.

Haruka tried to hurry up but Natsuko moved from behind the counter and caught her in the corner.

"Seriously, Haruka," she whispered. "What happened?"

"Nothing." Haruka assured her. "It's nothing."

"There's a bruise the size and color of an eggplant on your forehead, what do you mean it's nothing?"

Haruka touched at the spot and immediately flinched back.

"It's nothing. Nothing happened."

"You can't just pick fights with people on the street, Haruka."

"I... didn't want them to take me."

Natsuko went quiet at that one.

"I'm sorry," Haruka said. "I just-"

"No, it's fine. But we're going to have to cover that up before your shift tomorrow."

"Alright." Haruka quietly acquiesced. Natsuko finally let her past, through the door marked employees only and up the stairs behind it. She made it three steps before reaching a hand into her bag. Then she stopped and hung her head, turned around and went back down.

She pushed the door back open again.

"I um," she said to Natsuko, holding up her now cold bento. "I need you to heat this up for me."

Natsuko smiled to her patrons as she took the bento into the back room where they kept a microwave. Some of the people about were casting curious gazes on Haruka. She waved back, trying to act casual while painfully aware of the throbbing in her forehead.

As soon as she got her bento back, she was up the stairs and in her room. It was as tiny and cramped as the bar. Outfitted with luxuries such as a small, round table in the middle with four cushions around it, a futon in the corner with a nice wool comforter, a mini fridge that was regularly empty, Haruka had, admittedly, spared quite a few expenses in getting here.

She shrugged off her jacket, revealing the red spaghetti strap shirt underneath and letting her hair spool downward again. Taking a seat at her table, she ate her meager convenience store meal in quiet. It didn't take very long.

As soon as she was done, she was back on her feet again.

Restless, she moved over to the window and cracked it open. From her back pocket she pulled a lighter, and from the new carton she shook out the first cigarette. She lit up and breathed in, letting the cigarette do its work and soothe her nerves. And breathing out, she sent the smoke out into the chill, night air.

In the distance she could hear the sounds of the city. People talking, glasses clinking, pachinko machines whirring, cars purring, crying, skin impacting against skin, violent strikes accompanied by desperate whimpering, cruel laughter, screams of pain, gangsters stabbing each other in the back, drunks attacking each other from the front, bangs that might have been misfiring cars, might have been arcade machines, or might have been gunshots robbing life after life in this city.

God damn, Haruka hated Kamurocho.