Last Taste

“Virgin Strawberry Daiquiri, please.”

You turn your head and look at the lady sliding into the barstool beside you.

“You're late. Want some nuts?”

“I’m five minutes early,” she says, shaking her head subtly. “They’ll get stuck in my teeth.”

“The Sakura I know will always be six minutes early,” you tease, dragging the bowl of snacks back, tossing another candied walnut into your mouth.

She rolls her eyes with that familiar smirk, but her lips curl. The bartender sets her beverage down and she picks it up.

“How’s Yena?” you ask.

“Seriously? We haven't met in what, two years, and the first thing you ask is Yena and not me?” She scoffs, giving her mocktail a sniff before tipping it into her mouth. She takes a small sip, appreciating the refreshing sweetness, before setting it back onto the table.

“You’re right here. I can see you’re fine. Yena’s the one I’m worried about.”

“I know, I'm just fucking around with you,” she giggles, licking the strawberry foam that’s smeared across her upper lips. “She's fine, just busy with assignments. She's taking a request in Dubai right now, something about an oil prince’s heir. She’ll be back to Korea soon, saying she'll take a break.”

“She should. We all should,” you murmur, taking a sip from your glass. “It's been a while since we had some free time. Stupid people up there, always overworking us.”

“What's that you're drinking?”

“This? Pineapple Mango Sencha. Want some?” you reply, sliding your glass to her.

She takes it from you and tries, closing her eyes to savour the blend of sweet, tangy and earthy notes. “It's nice~ Since when did you stop drinking alcohol?”

“After our last job together,” you say, grabbing the glass back from her. “Y’know, ever since that mistake from being drunk? Figured it was smarter.” Your eyes focus back on the glass, hand slightly trembling as you reach out to reach for another nut.

“Hey… that wasn't your fault,” Sakura says, reaching out to grab your hand. Her warm touch calms you down, settling the intense tremor of fear stemming from inside you.

“She was my best friend, you know?”

“And she was mine too. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself for it, so let's stop talking about it, okay?”

You look into Sakura’s eyes. For a moment the image flashes across your mind: Chaewon’s head hitting the ground, blood splattering on concrete. But Sakura’s touch pulls you back. You turn your hand and squeeze hers once before letting go. 

“R-Right,” you stammer, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself. “Death is a common part of our job anyway.”

“She died in honour, so let's give her that honour.” Sakura raises her glass towards you.

“For Chaewon.”

“For Chaewon.”

The toast fills your heart, or so you hope it would, but it still feels empty. Sakura’s eyes darken as she looks at you.

“Your lips still taste like sencha?”

You smirk. “Only one way to find out.”

“Fuck, your lips tastes so good.”

“I could say the same for you,” Sakura breathes heavily against your lips before diving back in.

The kiss turns molten instantly. Her tongue twists and dances with yours, sucking greedily like she's trying to drink the taste of strawberry, pineapple and mango straight from your soul. You kiss her harder, devouring her right back. No alcohol courses through your veins, but it sure may as hell be.

“The sencha… its taste comes lingering,” she rasps, detaching her lips from yours for a short gasp. “And it makes me want more.” She grinds her hips on yours, smashing her lips back onto yours for another torrid kiss.

“Kkura… fuck, I need you right now.” You grunt, your cock growing impossibly hard against the restraints of your pants.

“And where do you think we are right now?” She chuckles, dismounting you as she kneels between your legs on the bathroom floor. “I can't fucking wait too.” Her fingers make quick work of your belt and button. Then, with a sultry look, eyes locked on yours, she leans in and catches the zipper between her teeth, pulling it down slowly. The metallic teeth echo around the small room.

She presses her nose against your bulge, taking a deep shameless whiff. “Fuck, I can smell you through your pants,” she moans at your scent, rubbing her nose along the hard outline of your cock through the fabric. “Two years… two fucking years without this cock.”

She grabs on to the hem of your pants on both sides, tugging everything down in a single yank. Your heavy cock springs out throbbing and leaking, bobbing slightly under the hunger of her eyes before it settles into small twitches of impatience.

“Fuck,” you grunt as she exhales lightly onto the tip, revelling in the tease, preparing for the storm that she'll unleash on your cock.

“Oh my god…” she moans, wrapping her hand around the base, giving it a slow, firm stroke. “Look at you, so hard for me already.” She stares at it reverently, like she's been dreaming about it for ages.

You shiver at the pleasurable squeezes she's giving your manhood, thinking about how much you missed her touch. Looking back down at her, you watch as she leans in and runs her tongue from the base all the way up to your already leaking tip.

“That's my first lick for tonight,” she whispers, before swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. “And the only lick I’ll give you tonight.” She moans loudly at the taste, the excitement of lapping your arousal sending vibrations through your cock. You tilt your head back in pleasure, feeling her wringing out beads after beads of pre-cum from your cock with every slow stroke, each one falling straight onto her greedy tongue like she's addicted.

And who says she isn't?

“Mmm… fuck, I missed this so much,” she purrs, before wrapping her lips around the head. Her tongue never stops the entire time, drawing circles around the circumference of the head, coaxing every physical and audible validation of pleasure she can get from you.

“You're insane, you know?” you grunt, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Insanely irresistible.”

“And I’m insanely in need of your cock.”

She sinks lower at your praise, engulfing your cock with the overwhelming wet heat of her mouth. Without any hesitation, she sucks you impatiently, taking you deep as she bobs her head with filthy enthusiasm. Her cheeks hollow as she draws pre-cum from you with an unfound hunger, saliva dripping down your shaft as she works you tirelessly.

“Shit, Kkura… just like that.” You groan, threading your fingers through her hair as her hand strokes what her mouth can't reach. Every bob of her head onto your cock reminds you of the past, how you two would always go down on each other at any chance during missions. One may call it baseless lust, but perhaps you both just wanted to feel alive.

Sensing your discourse, Sakura pulls off your cock with a wet pop. Thick strings of spit stretch from her swollen, glistening lips to your throbbing shaft, and the sight makes your cock twitch more. She grabs your cock by the base and leans her head forward, slapping the heavy, veined length against her cheeks.

“Fuck, what are you doing?” you groan, each impact unleashing a surge of intensifying pleasure unto you.

“Tenderising my mouth with your hard cock~” she smirks, now smacking it on her lips before smearing the messy glaze of her saliva and your pre-cum all over her flushed, pretty face like paint. “I missed your cock so fucking much,” she confesses, stroking you with raw obsession. “Every single night for two years, I was such a desperate slut for it. I’d finger my dripping pussy in hotels for hours, moaning your name into the pillow while I imagined choking on this thick fucking cock… how it would stretch all my holes wide, how it would pulse and throb when you’re about to flood me.”

She dives back down without warning, taking you back in brutally deep. Her head bobs frantically, forcing every inch of your cock past the constricting confines of her throat. “You won’t leave me alone anymore, right?” she gasps, pulling off for another breath before gagging herself full again. Wet, sloppy noises echo around the bathroom stall as thick drool spurt from the corners of her stretched lips.

“Shit, Sakura…” you groan, hips jerking uncontrollably into her face. “I missed you too. None of the pussies I fucked could even come close to this filthy mouth of yours. Nothing feels as good as you. Nothing.”

Sakura’s eyes roll back in pleasure at your words, moaning around your cock as she takes you in over and over again. "You’re the only one—whose cock—tastes this fucking good,” she rasps, spit flowing down her chin in messy streams. “So thick—so heavy—so addictive—”

Then she swallows you whole again, sucking noisily and sloppily, gobbling you with a desperate, hungry rhythm. People who need to use the bathroom may be right outside waiting urgently for their turn, but you both don’t care at this point.

You can’t hold back anymore. You grab on to her head with both hands, tilting her slightly upwards. Her eyes flash with pure lust.

“Harder,” she muffles around your cock. “Use my throat. Fuck my face. I can take it. I want it. I need it—”

You tighten your grasp around her skull and slam her back down, stuffing her words right back into her larynx. You crush her nose against your pelvis, feeling her throat spasm violently around you, rippling and squeezing every gram of your meat like she’s trying to swallow you alive. Her face turns into a deep shade of red, tears streaming down her cheeks as her gag reflex erupts, but her eyes stare up at you with an euphoric, cock-drunk bliss, begging for you to not let go.

She looks like she’d happily stay there forever, choking on you as if her life depended on it.

And you oblige in her indulgence. You hold her there, savouring the way her throat massages and flutters around your throbbing length, milking thick beads of sweet pre-cum straight down into her stomach.

When you finally let her up, all you can hear is the approving sputtering of saliva and violent coughing as thick strands of viscous throat slime hangs down her mouth, dripping messily onto your cock and balls, dirtying the entire toilet bowl’s seat cover.

“You want more?” she purrs, nuzzling her face against your heavy balls, dragging her hot tongue all over them before opening her mouth wide and stuffing both heavy orbs into her mouth. She sucks and juggles them gently within the confines of her mouth, tongue swirling while her fist pumps your spit-drenched cock in fast, slimy strokes.

“More… You mentioned about tenderising, Sakura…” you grunt as finally releases your balls. You tilt her face up to look into her eyes. Her face is a beautiful red, tear-streaked wreck, but the feral hunger in her eyes only burns hotter. “But I think the tenderising should go both ways.”

You stuff her head back down onto you, forcibly impressing her onto your cock like a woman’s who’s been denied her favourite drug for years. You beat and hammer her head onto your cock repeatedly, softening her mouth and throat walls with ferocity, loosening and tenderising all the tight fibres and knots of her oral muscles. Sakura reciprocates in exhilaration as she worships your cock, licking every vein, slurping loudly, humming and moaning happily every time you twitch and throb on her tongue.

The pressure coils unbearably tight in your core.

“I’m close—” you warn, pumping her head with increasing speed and unimaginable depth. Her eyes beg you shamelessly as she hollows her cheeks and bobs furiously, gagging and choking while her throat convulses around you.

Every filthy slide of her velvet throat around you completely shatters your sanity.

With a deep, guttural groan, you explode. Thick, heavy ropes of cum flood straight down her throat. Sakura whimpers in ecstasy but never stops sucking and swallowing greedily, milking every last drop like she’s trying to drain your entire existence through your cock. Her throat works around you erratically, refusing to let a single drop escape until your cock finally softens between her abused lips.

Only then does she slowly pull off, gasping harshly for air. Her lips are puffy, shiny, and thoroughly ruined. She leans forward and presses a kiss right on your cock’s sensitive head before gently tucking you back into your pants with shaky fingers.

“Fuck, that was…” you rasp, breath slowing down from the hazy bliss.

She stands up on unsteady legs and leans forward, pulling you into a deep kiss, letting you taste your own cum on her tongue. When she finally pulls back, she’s smiling with glee, glowing with satisfaction.

“We should get out of here,” she whispers hotly against your lips. “Otherwise I’m going to ride you right against this wall until I can’t walk.”

“So, what’s this assignment about?” Sakura asks, lying beside you with her head resting on your chest. Your bodies are still glossed with sweat and the room is heavy with the scent of sex. Clothes are scattered wildly everywhere, and the sheets beneath you are soaked with cum.

“An auction heist,” you mumble, gently stroking her cheek with your thumb. “A very difficult one.”

“Don’t tell me it’s the Terminus Auction?” she sits up quickly, turning to face you. “Isn’t that place heavily guarded?”

“It is, and we should start planning for it. There isn’t much time. The auction happens the night after tomorrow.”

“That soon?” she frowns. “What are we stealing?”

“An encrypted thumb drive. As for its contents, I am not privy to it. Our job is simple: retrieve the drive and get out.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Not even the usual exotic herbs and medicines that the First Order loves?”

“Nope. Just the drive. It’s strange, I know, but they did promise us Second Orders a few months off if we pull this off.”

“Then we should make it succeed,” Sakura clenches her fist in excitement. “It has been forever since we’ve gotten any breaks, and I desperately need it.”

“Then get moving,” you smile faintly. “The room is a mess, and we can’t plan anything when everything is wet and sticky.”

“And whose fault do you think it is?” Sakura smirks. She reaches between her legs, scoops some of your cum from her filled pussy with two fingers, and brings them to her mouth. She sucks them clean with a soft, satisfied hum, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“Fuck… you look so hot doing that.”

“You filled me to the brim,” she coos, licking the last strands from her fingers. “How many times was it? Five? Six?”

“Six,” you grunt in exhaustion. “Your pussy is the best.”

“Mhmm… You made me cum my brains out too~ I haven’t felt this good in such a long time.”

“We can have more fun later,” you let out a tired laugh. “Let’s shower together.”

You both stumble into the shower after calling for room service (had to get your sheets changed), still tangled in each other. Hot water cascades down your bodies as you both scrub the sinful filth off each other, only to press your bodies against each other on the tiled walls for another deep, lingering kiss. The desperation from earlier has faded into something warmer, but the hunger is still there, simmering beneath every touch. Your hands roam over her wet skin while she runs her fingers through your hair.

After the shower, you both end up back on the freshly made bed, half-dressed. Sakura lies on her stomach, wearing nothing but a loosely tied bathrobe, studying the blueprints and floorplans that you’ve spread out across the sheets.

“Alright, tell me what we have so far,” she says with a stern tone, suddenly all serious.

You sit by the side of the bed, dragging your finger across the blueprint right in front of her. “The target is stored 43 floors down in the Hitsumi Electronics Building.”

“When and what will be the extraction method?”

“Substitution of said item pre-auction,” you say. “The auction will happen on level B38’s theatre room, and you will begin your infiltration from there. As per insider information, items for auction will be moved via an automated conveyer system, and up to seven items will be queued in advance.”

“That’s new, I’ve never seen an auction where there aren’t any human handlers.”

“And that’s exactly why I am here. I will be hacking and hijacking into their systems during your infiltration, ensuring that none of their monitoring systems pick you up. In essence, you’ll be digitally invisible.”

Sakura nods slowly, scanning the floorplans as she looks through the routes that you have drawn and indicated.

“There are three layers of security. Biometric scanners at every entrance, facial recognition on the VIP level, and armed private security disguised as ushers. The encrypted thumb drive is Lot 36. You will make your move and infiltrate once Lot 30 is up for auction, which happens after right after the intermission break. Security vigilance is the lowest during that period.”

“The east and west corridor has two guards. I can handle them quietly if needed.” Her finger taps on the T-junction, right before the item conveyer room. “This service elevator here is a weak point. I can use it for exfil once I get the item. What about you?”

“I’ll be in the van located in the opposite building,” you say, pointing at the snapshot of the building across the street. “Throughout the operation, I’ll be your eyes and ears. Once you have the drive, I’ll meet you by the underground parking. My van will be waiting there.”

Sakura is quiet for a moment, studying the timings and routes you’ve marked.

“It’s tight,” she finally says.

“I know. While I am able to disable the alarm, there is no doubt that there will be a failsafe alarm in place. You will only have about a minute window between the thumb drive swap to get to the elevator.”

You look at her in silence. “There can be no mistakes. There will be no mistakes.” You lie back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the weight of the operation settles over you. The stress is already gnawing at your chest.

Sakura shifts closer, resting her head on your shoulder. “Hey, you’ll do fine, don’t stress about it.” She mumbles softly, gently running her fingers down your arm. “Who’s the one with a two-year streak of successful missions?”

You reply her with nothing but calm breathing that’s nothing but calm.

“You’re too tense,” Sakura says. “I can feel it from outside the van.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Sakura says. She’s already in her auction outfit — a deep blue faux fur coat that slips off one shoulder, revealing the black gown underneath accentuating her elegant neckline. Absolutely perfect for a woman as gorgeous as her.

“Look, I’m just making sure that everything works fine.” You reiterate, eyes flicking between all the different feeds from the multitude of cameras that’s spread across the rear of the van. Your fingers dance frantically across your laptop’s keyboard, switching between the auction house feeds that are already live on the screen.

“You’ve barely gotten any rest since we fucked, barely eaten anything all day, and you’ve hardly spoken since I got here.” Sakura reaches and rests her hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently.

“I’m really fine. It’s just me on focus mode. I’m always like this before missions.”

She looks at you worryingly, as if weighing the choice of her words.

“You’re still thinking about… Chaewon, aren’t you?”

Your hands freeze for a split second, before mashing on the keyboard buttons again.

Sakura sighs softly. She crawls over to the glove compartment and pulls out a small silver flask. The moment she unscrews the cap, the sharp scent of whiskey diffuses throughout the entire van.

“No,” you say immediately.

“Just a little,” she murmurs, pulling out two paper cups from the same compartment. She pours a minute amount — just enough for maybe three sips — and holds it out to you. “It’s not enough to get you drunk. Just to take the edge off. You’ve been carrying her death like chains around your neck for two whole years. Even if this mission doesn’t kill you, those chains are. I hate seeing you like this.”

You instinctively take the cup from her, but you don’t drink. You stare into it, watching your own reflection shimmering off the surface of the alcohol. Your face looks clean, shaven, and washed, but it’s smeared with the ragged wrinkles of guilt, sorrow, and worry. It’s as if you are there, but not there.

Lifeless. Soulless. Empty.

“I need you here tonight,” she continues, “but I also need you here. Not stuck in the past. Just a sip or two. For me?”

You stare at her. Her eyes are full of worry, not from the mission, but from her worry for you.

“Let me help you feel alive again. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

She grabs and takes your cup from you, tilting it into her mouth. Just as you think she will swallow it, she lurches forward, crashing her lips onto yours. The whiskey burns as it she feeds it into your mouth, flowing down your throat. Three whole sips, spreading heat throughout your chest almost immediately. You feel the cold suffocating and crushing force that’s wrenching your heart slowly melting away, albeit just a little.

“How was it?” she whispers against your lips.

“Good... My mind feels clearer already.”

“Mhmm~” she hums, before claiming your lips again. She straddles you completely throughout the kiss, settling against you, her hands clasped on both sides of your face. The kiss turns into a hungry one within seconds, tongues sliding against each other, teeth nibbling each other's lips.

“I need you,” she gasps against your mouth. “Right now.”

She reaches under her gown and slides her panties to the side. At the same time, your hands dive to your belt in hurry, unbuckling and freeing your cock. It’s already rock-hard. Without hesitation, she lines herself up and sinks down onto you in one smooth motion. Her pussy is wet and molten, hotter than the alcohol coursing through your blood.

Both of you groan loudly.

“Fuck… yes,” she hisses, starting to ride you immediately. She doesn’t start slow. She starts bouncing on you with the desperate need of filling herself with your cock, making the van rock and shake. You grip her ass under her gown, guiding her movements as she fucks you harder. Moans spill out of her mouth as you invade her warm depths, each drop hitting all the spots that jumbles her rationality.

You grunt when she looks at you with eager eyes, those same eyes that always drive you insane. You pull the top of her gown down, exposing her breasts, and latch onto one nipple, sucking hard.

Sakura moans louder, one hand braced on the ceiling, the other digging into your shoulder.

“Faster,” you growl, the whiskey making you bolder. “Ride me like you’ve can’t live without me.”

“I can’t,” she gasps, bouncing harder. “I can’t fucking live without you. I want you right beside me all the fucking time. Filling me up. Fucking me senseless. Holding my hand. I want to go on dates with you. Please… don’t ever leave me again.”

The van fills with the obscene sounds of wet squelches, skin slapping, and both of you moaning. You thrust up to meet her, hitting that perfect spot deep inside with every stroke. Sakura’s head falls back, lips parted in pleasure.

“Look at me,” you grunt.

Her eyes snap onto yours, and the eye contact is devastating. Full of everything you’ve never said out loud. You rub her clit with your thumb and feel her start to tighten around you.

“Cum for me, Kkura.”

She shatters with a broken cry, her walls convulsing violently around your cock as she breaks. Her whole body trembles and you follow right after, groaning her name as you spill deep inside her. She keeps grinding through it, milking every last drop from your cock.

For a long moment, the only sounds are your ragged breathing against each other’s chests.

“More?” she asks.

“We have a drive to steal,” you say, wrapping your arms around her tightly, holding her close. She leans into your neck and kisses it softly, whispering against your skin:

“Let’s quit after tonight. I have so many things I want to say to you.”

You give a small nod and whisper back.

“Me too.”

“Blossom, can you hear me.”

“Loud and clear, Spectre.”

“Blossom, I have my eyes on you. Remember the plan. Stay low, but bid a few items to blend in.”

You watch Sakura through the camera feed focused on the theatre, palms sweaty from nervousness. She's sitting in an elegant, poised manner with a regal black eye mask covering her upper half of her face, just like every other bidder tonight.

Your eyes flick towards the item conveyer room, watching as the first item emerge from darkness. It's a grotesque statue that seems to be a hybrid of a human and horse. One would think that it's a centaur, but it's the reverse — the head and torso is the horse’s, a human’s arms and legs for its limbs.

Disturbing.

And yet, paddles fly and bids soar. The first item is bought out at a whopping 3 million yen, earning applause from the audience as an aged burly man claims his prize.

The next item is even stranger: A book said to be written by cicada 3301, titled Liber Primus. Rumours claim that the online puzzle has yet to be solved and the book has yet to be deciphered since its reveal eight years ago. However, this particular hand-transcribed copy is said to hold clues and notes paramount to unravelling the truth within. A baseless rumour, but paddles fly once again.

“This place is full of freaks,” you say, shaking your head at the impulse spending, watching as the unverified stack of scribblings get sold for 4.6 million yen.

“3 fucking million for a weird ass horse-man thing, and now 4.6 million for a stupid book that doesn’t even guarantee the puzzle being solved?” Sakura murmurs. “What even happens when you solve the puzzle? Rich people are insane.”

“I’d say we are insane too. We’re literally about to steal from them.”

“Fair point.”

The auction passes in a parade of eccentricity.

A tree branch rumoured to the legendary god-killing spear Mistilteinn. A fully functional ancient Nokia 3310 loaded with Snake II and Space Impact. A sealed glass jar containing red crimson eyeballs heralding from a reclusive forest clan. Each subsequent item gets weirder than the last, and Sakura occasionally throws in low, casual bids to maintain her cover.

The theatre is pulsing with excitement and tension and every single item is met with an outcry of numbers, each bidder screaming louder than the last. By the time the 28th item is sold, the air is thick with adrenaline.

“Blossom,” you say into the comms. “This is the 29th item. Intermission comes right after. Prepare to move.”

You watch as the next item rolls out onto the stage: an ornate perfume bottle said to contain the preserved aphrodisiac essence of an ancient queen. One sniff and the even strongest man will crumble. Paddles fly. The numbers jump instantly from thousands to the millions, each increase exponentially higher than the last.

“4.5 million,” Sakura bids calmly.

“Blossom, what are you doing?” you whisper.

“Bidding,” she replies under her breath. “There were some staff looking in my direction earlier. Everyone is bidding except for me. I can’t stand out.”

“4.5 million is a lot.”

“I know. Trust me.”

The bids climb rapidly. You watch as her offer gets outbid by a recklessly spending young man, adding 10 million like its peanuts.

“15 million,” Sakura bids.

“25 million,” the man fights back, smirking.

“26 million.”

“36 million.”

“37 million.”

“Blossom!” you hiss anxiously. “This isn’t the plan!”

“Shush,” Sakura grinds her teeth. “50 million.”

The entire theatre goes into a stunned silence as they watch the fierce bidding war between Sakura and the man. The young man hesitates.

“Blossom… we don’t have 50 million.”

“Trust me.”

“50 million. Going once…”

Your fists clench.

“Going twice...”

Sakura’s smiles calmly.

“100 million!”

The insane counter-bid stuns the room. “100 million! Going once… Going twice… Sold!”

“Crazy bastard.”

“Did you predict this, Blossom?”

“No,” Sakura exhales with relief. “My ass was clenched tighter than when your cock is in me.”

“You’re insane.”

“Perhaps~”

You shake your head. “Alright, time to move.”

Intermission begins.

The lights in the theatre brighten as bidders rise from their seats, chatting excitedly while staff guide them towards the refreshment area. Security is momentarily distracted by the sudden movement and crowd management.

“Spectre, I’m moving now,” Sakura whispers.

You watch as she slips away from the main theatre with ease, blending into the flow of people before sneaking off into a side corridor. She approaches the T-junction just before the item conveyer room as marked in the floorplan and presses herself against the wall.

“Four guards,” you inform her. “Two stationary on each end, two patrolling. Cameras are looped. You’re invisible. Clear.”

Sakura waits patiently. One patrolling guard turns back before reaching the junction, but the other continues forward, turning the corner and walking straight toward her.

He spots her.

In an instant, Sakura switches tactics.

“Oh thank god,” she wheezes, stepping forward with a dazzling, embarrassed smile and swaying hips as she acts tipsy. “I think I got lost. Do you know the way back to the theatre?”

The guard lowers his raised weapon slightly, visibly charmed. “Gladly, Miss. Follow me.” The moment his back is turned, Sakura draws her suppressed pistol and strikes him hard on the back of the neck, knocking him out cold. She catches his falling body and gently lowers him to the floor.

“Spectre, I’m switching tactics.”

Before you can reply, Sakura screams.

“Help! Someone help me!”

The guards from both sides rush towards her voice. You watch the feeds intently.

“Left guard approaching your blind spot in three… two…”

“—Now!” Your signal comes a split second too late, the whiskey slightly clouding your timing.

Sakura reacts with a delay.

The guard spots her gun and barrels into her, and a brief, violent scuffle breaks out. Grunts and yelps fill the air as Sakura wrestles him down, locking her thighs around his neck in a tight triangle choke. Then a silenced gunshot and the guard stills.

“Shit—Blossom, two more incoming!”

Gunfire erupts in the narrow corridor as the remaining two guards rush in. Sakura moves with deadly precision, rolling to the right as she takes one down, before aiming at the other. However, the guard manages to get a shot off. She hisses in pain as the bullet tears into her abdomen.

“Blossom!” you shout in panic. “Withdraw now!”

She ignores you and strafes to the left, firing a shot that drills through the last guard’s forehead.

“You’re bleeding—”

“I’m fine,” she grunts, breathing hard as she presses hard on her wound. “All guards are down. Confirm if the coast is clear.” She rips the bottom of her gown and ties it around her waist, forming a makeshift bandage to slow her bleeding.

“Let’s withdraw.”

“No,” she says, limping as she approaches the conveyer room door. “Unlock the door, Spectre.”

You hesitate, then curse under your breath and override the lock. The door clicks open.

Sakura slips inside. The room is dimly lit with the conveyer system still humming. The next seven items are already queued up, and the 37th lies right at the end.

“… There’s no thumb drive,” she frowns. “Just a CD.”

“Let’s wait for the next item,’ you suggest, your entire head spinning from the upturn of plans and the lingering alcohol.

“There is no next item,” she replies grimly. “This is the last one, according to the auction handbook. We’ve been had.”

“Take the CD anyway,” you say. “We’re not leaving empty-handed.”

However, the moment Sakura grabs it from the tray, a piercing alarm explodes through the building.

“Fuck! It shouldn’t have triggered this fast,” you mutter. “I disabled it.”

“Spectre, calm down.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“Spectre!” Sakura snaps. “Focus. Get me out of here.”

You close your eyes and draw in a deep breath. “All hell just broke loose,” you warn. “Guards incoming from your entry point. Run!”

Sakura turns and exits the room, limping towards the service elevator. She fires a few suppressing shots as she makes her way down the T-junction, killing the approaching guards despite her injury. One hand gripping her bleeding abdomen, she grunts as she barely makes it inside the elevator.

“Fuck, two more guards coming your way!” you shout into the microphone.

“She leans to the side and smashes the elevator buttons, gun inching out to shoot a few more cover shots before the doors snap shut just in time.

The ride upwards feels agonisingly slow.

Sakura wheezes and grimaces in pain as red continues to soak through the makeshift bandage, back collapsed onto the walls of the elevator.

“Stay with me Kkura,” you urge. “You're almost there. I’m right outside.”

You watch her body sway from the blood loss, lips growing pale, forehead glistening with cold sweat. By the time she reaches the underground parking and collapses into the passenger seat of the van, blood has soaked through her dress and coat.

You don’t waste a second. You slam the van into drive and surge out past the exit ramp, tyres screeching as sires blare in the distance.

The chase has begun.

The streets are wet from the relentless downpour. You weave aggressively through the late-night traffic, swerving left and right, zooming past the neon signs of Akihabara. Your eyes constantly dart between the road and the van’s mirrors, eyeing the electric reds and blues reflecting across the wet glass.

Sakura’s face is a deathly pale. Blood continues to pour from her abdomen.

“KKura—”

“Drive,” she rasps, one hand pressed hard against the wound, the other gripping the stolen CD like it’s her only lifeline. “Just… drive.”

Sirens close in as the first police cruiser appears behind you, the red and blue flashing brightening through the edges of your eyes.

More join rapidly.

"They’re…” Sakura warns.

“I see them.”

You take a sharp right, the van skidding dangerously on the wet and slippery road. The whiskey in your blood exudes its lingering effects that’s enhanced through your prolonged abstinence, making every movement feel a moment too slow. Your reactions are delayed by that same cursed split second, and it’s snowballing with every turn.

“Left! Left!” Sakura shouts as another police cruiser creeps up on your right.

You swerve a little too late, the rear tyre mounting over a kerb.

“Fuck—” you curse. Sakura yelps from the jerk. She twists in her seat, suppressing her painful groan as she leans out of the window. She fires several shots, blowing one of the cruiser’s tyres, sending it spinning wildly into a road divider.

But more keep coming.

You jam your feet and floor the accelerator, running red lights, surging down the road onto the highway. A bullet shatters your side mirror. Sakura fires again, but her aim weakens and lulls as blood loss takes its toll on her.

“Y-you’re losing speed,” Sakura says, her voice growing softer.

“I’ve got it,” you lie. The alcohol is fucking with your depth perception and every turn feels delayed, every decision a heartbeat too late. Stress and guilt churn violently in your chest as a helicopter’s spotlight sweeps over you, illuminating you like a star on stage.

You swing the steering wheel left and rocket past cars, weaving across the highway, shaking off the circular radiance chasing after you. Bullets barely miss the van, hitting the asphalt as you manoeuvre skilfully with random bursts of slow and fast speeds, derailing their shots.

“The extraction point is just ahead, hang in there.”

You force the engine into overdrive, trying to reach the escape point as fast as possible. When you’re off the highway, you cut into a narrow alley, hoping to lose them in the labyrinth of backstreets. The van scrapes against both walls, sparks showering like fireworks.

For a moment, the sires fade.

“Fuck, I shouldn't have drank,” you mutter under your breath, blaming yourself for the mistake. “It's happening again…”

But once you exit into the glamorous streets of Ginza, the helicopter finds you again. The spotlight shines right into your eyes as the aerial machine emerges in front, its light blinding you.

You swerve out of panic. The van skids and lunges at high speed into a divider.

“Hold on!”

You hold on to the steering as tight as you can, trying to keep the van level, but the force is too much. Metal screams and the world flips violently. Glass explodes around you as the van tumbles and slides into the underpass across the wet asphalt. Both you and Sakura jumble within the confines of the van, barely held in place by the seatbelts. The van finally rolls to a stop, your entire world overturned.

Pain explodes through your body. Your head shakes and your ears ring. You struggle to focus your eyes, but your vision tunnels, seeing nothing but a blur.

The van’s airbag compresses onto your face and chest, forcing a choked cough of blood out from your lungs. The van is mangled.

“Sakura…” You grunt, turning to look at her. Her body is slumped on the door, face full of cuts from the broken glass. Blood continues to flow from her abdomen, visibly lesser now, and her eyelids struggle to stay open. The CD is broken and embedded into her thighs. You grunt and reach to unbuckle your seatbelt, crawling out of the van through the broken window.

You can't feel your left arm.

You drag yourself to the other side of the van, ignoring the deep gash burning the back of your thigh. Sakura is barely conscious. You pull her out desperately, collapsing with her against the wrecked van.

You nestle her body against yours, the warmth slowly fading. Her breathing is shallow. The makeshift bandage is completely soaked through. Her beautiful face is pale, and her lips are turning blue.

You cradle her in your lap, sweat mixing with the blood on both of you.

“I’m sorry…” you say, or sob, or cry. You don't know. Droplets of salt drips onto Sakura’s face as you run your fingers across it, brushing strands if blood-soaked hair to the side.

“I should never have drank.”

“…We almost had it,” she whispers, a weak, pained smile on her lips. “Should’ve stayed in the van longer…”

You laugh softly.

“You should go.” Sakura rasps, her voice noticeably weaker than before. “There's still time.”

You ignore and pull her closer. “Perhaps I should have drank more if I knew this would happen,” you say. With trembling fingers, you reach inside your blazer’s inner pocket and pull out a small metallic silver flask. Sirens blast in the distance, getting louder as seconds pass.

“Fancy a drink?" you ask, uncapping it with difficulty.

Sakura nods faintly, her eyes already losing their light. You take a sip, then lean down and press your mouth to hers, feeding her the whiskey in a slow, deep kiss.

She swallows it weakly, savouring the taste before her throat stops moving. Her eyelids shut and her grip is faint… then nothing.

You stay there, forehead pressed against hers, savouring the last taste of her.

You could still run. But where to? Your life’s meaning is gone.

So you don’t.

You hold her lifeless body tighter, rocking her gently. You stay exactly where you are, cradling her body as boots and shouts for surrender thunder closer.

You don’t reach for your gun.

You press one final kiss to her forehead.

“Let's talk all we want on the other side.”

The last thing you hear is a gunshot and everything fades to black.