Je ne possède pas SDK
Nanamy : « Here we go, for this third opus ! Thanks to the readers who sent reviews, your comments are really gratifying and encourage me to »
Kyouki : « Well, that's enough, don't you think so ? Stop rewarding them ! There are JUST readers, they didn't write the story… »
BOUM….
Kyouki is lying, knocked out on the carpet…
Nanamy, rubbing her hands : « Well, I just have to wish you a nice reading…and please thinks to the reviews, for the author's health and her personnal slave too ! Enjoy »
Chapter 3 The Hupapa
0 o0 o0 o0 o0 o
After school, Yuya ran to the Cafe not to be late, as she used to.
"I don't have the time to go home to change!" She said, rushing in the streets.
She came into the Café, out of breath. From outside, it looked like a small shop, but inside you couldn't remain stonily indifferent in front of the vastness of the Hupapa, and the luxurious decor.
Silk tablecloth and chairs made in an exotic wood embellished the room. A subtle atmosphere, tinted of sensuality and tenderness blended, but not coarse, reigned there. It was not an ordinary Café, because only rich people could enter. Besides, they even need to pay huge amounts of money to be a member.
Over the years, this place has become the favourite haunt of young middle-classes.
During the day, it sold drinks and pastries, but at night, an other atmosphere began: sumptuous meals were served by charming hostesses, but above all, the night, and this night, it was her night, the night of the most renowned and sensual dancer, the most desired by everyone…Ishanty.
"Yuya! My dear Yuya, honey!" a familiar voice exclaimed.
She felt arms hugging her, and her reaction didn't keep waiting: a punch to her boss' face was started, but he dodged it, as usual.
"What a bad mood!" guffawed Yukimura.
"Always bothering girls, hey" A quite voice remarked, the one of Sasuke, who was Yukimura's son.
"Sasuke!" The dad answered, dashing o his beloved son, who dodged him just before being hugged. Sasuke saw his father hurting monumentally the wall behind him, under the weary glances of the employees (they got used to…)
"Sasuke! How are you? I haven't seen you since a long time!" Yuya cried out when she saw him.
"Nice! But school is bloody annoying…" He answered. Sasuke was in eighth grade despite his youth. This boy was a genius, he could have been, if he wanted so, in twelfth grade, but his father preferred letting him in eighth in order to permit him taking advantage to his youth, and especially to the girls from the same era (that's what he had explained to the school director)
Yuya smiled and gave to the boy a small packet wrapped into a poor quality packing with bear-cub and rabbits on it, which was shortly before in her bag.
"It's for you, Sasuke"
The boy didn't need coaxing, he pulled out with pleasure the packing and open the packet, he stared wide-eyed when he saw…
" A cup-and-ball game?" the boy said happily.
"Yes, it is. I knew that your last one was broken, so I went to a little shop, and I couldn't resist" The young woman laughed, kissing the cheek of the boy, who was blushing.
"Uuh Yuya, your maternal instinct makes you look prettier! But… Is my dear Sasuke blushing? Uuh… that's cute! It remembers me when I met your mother, we passed crazy nights, when I took her in…" Sanada cooed, quickly broke off by Yuya.
"Don't say that in front of children!" She yelled, hurting him again with anger.
"Ouch! Dear Yuya, what's this mood!" The boss said, looking the faire girl who went away.
The dancer took the way of the cloakroom, she bumped into Okuni, who ignored her.
"She's more and more strange" Yuya thought.
In the cloakroom, she wore her costume. She wasn't just wearing a suit, she was metamorphosing into an other person, into Ishanty.
Her costume was simple: composed of a tunic almost see-through, which hid green underclothes, they stuck Yuya's body, and showed-off to advantage her assets. Her tunic was made into two parts: a top with a low V-neck, which let make out a magnificent chest and a superb back.
It was white with golden string around the neckline. The lower part was really short, letting her thin legs appear. When she bended down, you could see the beginning of her buttocks.
"Good bye Yuya, see you tomorrow" the girl whispered to herself. She tied her mask, golden as her tunic. There were two little wings at each hole for her eyes, which intensified her sight. The mask covered her nose, but let appear a fleshy mouth. A small emerald sparkled between her eyes, and patterns decorated the outline of the mask… It was simply magnificent!
When she wear this costume, she became somebody else. When she was hidden under this mask, anything was forbidden, she could do whatever she wanted, neither modesty nor morality could contradict her, she was like free, even if she was still Yuya.
On stage, she was a goddess, she could do everything, she let herself go, she relaxed and even found pleasure, but she never admitted it.
Ishanty gazed at herself in the mirror, whispering slowly, tenderly:
"Yuya, this night we'll be irresistible"
Suddenly, somebody knocked at the door.
"Come in!" the dancer answered in an indifferent tone.
"I see you're ready… too bad, I can not bother you anymore now!" a familiar voice laughed.
"What do you want?" the fair girl retorted.
"I just wanted to tell you that my friend Muramasa will come in about 30 minutes, with his two sons, Kyo and Kyoshiro…" Yukimura announced.
When she heard Kyo's name, Ishanty felt her heart beating faster… He will be punished this night! She was about to avenge herself, because he was in her background. She smiled and Sanada looked at her, puzzled.
"Do you know them?"
She just moved her head in the affirmative.
"Right, don't pick a quarrel, you just have to entertain them, just dance… I've to go, and to get ready to welcome them… Don't do stupid things, hey??" He said, closing the door.
Ishanty laughed slowly.
"Poor Kyo, you'd better never come here, I'll go to your head, I'll make you become crazy about me… You should never have abused me…revenge…" She shuttered, a fiendish air outlined on her face, ordinary sweet and kind…
Revenge . . .