Amidst the flickering city lights of Shizuoka, the scent of grilled skewers and exhaust filled the humid weekend air. Salarymen laughed drunkenly in clusters, their loosened ties swaying as they stumbled toward their favorite izakayas. Rush hour had long passed, but traffic still crawled like a parade of tired souls desperate for a break.
And here I am... still stuck at work.
Inside a dim, red-lit room, bathed in a warm seductive glow, velvet chairs lined up like lazy lovers around polished mahogany tables. The soft clink of ice cubes echoed between flirtatious giggles and expensive perfume. This was no ordinary lounge—it was Shizuoka's infamous host club.
I'm Akane Kirisaki. Yeah, I know—my name sounds like a girl's. But I'm very much a boy. A high school student, in fact. Eighteen years old and supposedly at the peak of my youth.
Supposedly.
In reality? My life's been far from youthful bliss. I live with my mom in a tiny, mold-scented apartment above a laundromat. She works part-time washing dishes at some family restaurant while my dad—well, he cheated and vanished. Classic, right? Infidelity's practically a trend these days.
Long story short: we're broke. Her paycheck can't even cover my school fees, let alone rent, utilities, and the occasional dream of three meals a day.
I almost dropped out. But what future is there for a dropout? No education, no job, no life. So, to keep studying—and maybe get into college one day—I did something I never thought I would.
Without telling my mom… I became a host.
Wearing sleek, sparkly formalwear that makes me look like I stepped out of a dating sim, and flashing my most charming smile—the same smile I inherited from my criminally beautiful mother—I greet the night.
"Good evening, my lady. Welcome to Shizuoka Host Club."
Obviously, a high schooler shouldn't be allowed in a place like this. But thanks to a friend—well, more like my mom's friend—I managed to fake my age and slip in under the radar.
My daily routine? Flirt with older women, rake in the cash, and pray neither my mom nor my teachers find out.
"Akane-kun! Table 24 is calling for you!" came Kaede-san's voice.
She's the one who got me in. Not exactly a friend. More like my mom's old drinking buddy who somehow became the owner of this club. She runs this place like a queen—strict, sharp, and always smiling.
I head over to Table 24. One glance at tonight's guest and—ah. Don't expect all adult women here to look like sultry Ara Ara mommies from anime. Reality hits different.
Tonight's client? Overweight. Dressed in a stiff office suit that clung too tight. Her makeup looked like it was applied with a butter knife.
In short: a bossy-looking woman with the elegance of a bulldozer.
I slide into the seat beside her, keeping my best smile locked in place.
"Good evening, ma'am. First time here?"
"Ohhh! Yes! Yes!" she squeals, voice a little too loud.
Weird energy. But alright.
"Would you like me to pour you a drink?"
"Yes, please! Hehehe. You look so young!"
"Haha, is that so? Thank you, my lady."
I fill her glass carefully. She lifts hers, then pushes it toward me with a greasy grin.
"Hey, dear, wanna drink too?"
"Ah, no thank you. I'm good."
Can't drink. I'm not even twenty yet. But I can't exactly say that.
"Ehh? Just a sip? Come on~ just a sip!"
She leans in closer. Her hands—clammy and heavy—cling to my shoulder like a sack of wet sand. I can feel the weight of her presence pressing into my bones.
"Ma'am, I'm really fine. And we typically don't share drinks with customers."
Sigh... we get these types sometimes. The clingy, boundary-blind ones.
"Hahaha! Okay! Since you're my type, I'll let you do what you want~"
"That's very kind, ma'am. I appreciate your compliments."
"You seriously look like a high schooler! Is this club legal or just good at hiring baby-faced boys?"
Okay. Now that sounds criminal.
"Haha, thank you. I probably got my youthful looks from my mom."
She leans even closer, her perfume now mixed with the sour scent of wine and sweat. Her breath tickles my neck as she giggles.
"Why don't you become my private host tonight? I'll pay you a good amount of money~"
GROSS. Welcome to the darker side of the industry. It's not uncommon for hosts to get offers like that. From club... to hotel. But I've never accepted one. And I'm not about to start.
"Sorry, ma'am. I have to stay and take care of the floor."
"Tch. Then how about here? You must have a VIP room, right?"
Her voice slithers into my ear, hot and sticky. I stiffen.
Nope. Nope nope nope.
"I'm afraid we don't have VIP rooms, ma'am. And we strictly prohibit any... additional services."
I pull away slightly, trying not to make it obvious how creeped out I am.
Then she snaps.
"HUH?! WHAT KIND OF CLUB IS THIS?! I PAID GOOD MONEY! WHERE'S THE MANAGER?!"
Heads turn. Conversations stop. Every pair of eyes in the room locks onto us.
I freeze. My hands tremble slightly beneath the table.
"Hello ma'am. I'm sorry, but even as our honored guest, I can't let you harass my staff."
That voice—
"Kaede-san...!"
She approaches, heels clicking like warning shots. Her calm presence settles over me like a blanket.
"Oh? Are you the manager?" the woman growls.
"I am. Is there a problem?"
"Yes! He keeps refusing even though I paid! And there's no VIP room?! What kind of garbage club is this?!"
Kaede's tone never wavers. "This is a host club, not a brothel. We strictly forbid prostitution."
The woman's face twists. She slams her wine bottle against the table with a loud crack.
"I WANT A REFUND! I'M WASTING MY TIME HERE!"
Kaede sighs softly. "Refunds are only issued if one of my employees causes distress. Not the other way around."
She's cool under fire. Like a true queen.
But the woman explodes.
"YOU BITCH! DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! YOU THINK YOU CAN TALK DOWN TO ME?! YOU'RE JUST SOME SLUT WHO BECAME A MANAGER!"
Kaede's eye twitches. Her smile starts to crack.
This is bad. She's about to snap too!
But then—
A voice from the entrance slices through the tension like silk over steel.
"Oh? And what about us? Don't you know who we are?"
The room falls silent. Everyone turns.
There, standing under the soft glow of the entrance lights, are two women.
Beautiful.
No, that's an understatement. Otherworldly. Even dressed in office suits, their curves and confidence made heads turn. They oozed power. Their heels clicked like declarations of war as they entered.
The rude woman turned pale.
"A-Ayase-sama! Mitsuki-sama?! What are you doing here?!"
The woman, with dark purple hair smiled—cool and elegant.
"Of course we're here. It's exhausting being the employer of a trash like you, you know?"
And this is the beginning of my story with the two hottest guests I've ever had...