Her fingertip slid across the screen, with a nearly tragic resolve, Yuutenji Nyamu pressed the huge, alluringly golden "Sign Now" button on the Teiai Direct Hire app.
The lengthy, dazzling agreement terms, those naked "exploitation" vibes permeating every line, were all temporarily sealed away into the dark corners of her consciousness in front of the glittering golden characters: "Immediate Settlement."
She took a deep breath; her first job in the Tokyo survival battle was secured—a food delivery rider.
Standing next to the rented, strikingly new, bright yellow electric scooter, Nyamu's mood was as complex as an overturned spice rack.
Riding an electric scooter for the first time, she felt a slight thrill, as if she had acquired a new steed to conquer the urban concrete jungle.
But when the destination of this "first time" was the countless eateries scattered across streets and alleys, and the mission was to deliver other people's dinners against the clock… that thrill was instantly scattered by the cold wind of reality.
"Alright," she patted the cold seat of the electric scooter, as if cheering on a warhorse, and also as if bolstering her own courage, "The battle begins!"
"Nyamu One—" She straddled the scooter, turned the key, and the motor hummed softly, "—launch!"
The bright yellow figure merged into the ceaseless flow of Tokyo's afternoon traffic, like a drop of fresh lemon juice into murky coffee.
Beneath her helmet, the girl's gaze was focused and stubborn, becoming a faint yet incredibly vibrant light of struggle among countless busy figures.
First order: Tokyo International Airport, back door of a VIP lounge on a departure floor.
The air carried the unique scent of expensive perfume. Nyamu carried an insulated bag containing two extra-large, mountain-like matcha parfaits, and two heavy packs of Asahi beer. Order note: [Urgent! Come quickly!].
The recipient, Kato, was a gothic youth who looked like he'd just stepped out of a rock magazine spread.
His silver-grey streaked hair stood on end, his black leather jacket was adorned with shiny metal chains, and his earrings glinted in the setting sun. He leaned against the wall, saw Nyamu, his eyes lit up, and he let out a whistle.
"Yo~! Little bee, good efficiency!" He grinned as he took the bags, his fingers intentionally or unintentionally brushing against Nyamu's hand, his eyes scanning her up and down with a flirtatious gaze.
"This uniform suits you well, little girl~ Care to leave your contact info?..."
Before he could finish, the lounge door burst open with a "bang," and three equally flamboyant companions, clearly showing impatience, rushed out.
"Kato! You're at it again, aren't you!" A red-haired girl grabbed Kato by the back collar of his leather jacket.
"Leader's rushing us! Hurry up!" Another gloomy youth yelled impatiently.
"Sorry, sorry~" Kato stumbled as he was pulled, but not before turning back to blow Nyamu a kiss.
"Talk to you next time, cute little bee~!"
The three of them dragged Kato and the delivery inside the door.
The door closed, shutting out the commotion inside and Kato's exaggerated complaints.
Nyamu stood rooted, her hand still feeling the cold touch of the beer cans and the uncomfortable warmth of his fingertips.
She rubbed the back of her hand, quickly tapped "Delivered," and the tip field showed a lonely 500 yen, generously left by the customer. The screen seemed to have a smudge of matcha cream on it.
Second order: Tokyo Medical University Hospital, side entrance of the outpatient building, temporary express delivery pick-up point.
The atmosphere was completely different from the airport. A strange, pungent smell hung heavily in the air.
Nyamu carried a large cardboard box containing ten rolls of wide tape, two cheap folding plastic stools, a box of black markers, and a large bag of brightly colored balloons. Order note: [Leave at pick-up point, take photo, leave quickly!]
As she approached the outpatient building, she was startled by the sight before her. A huge crowd was gathered at the entrance of the consultation hall!
They wore uniform blue and white striped patient gowns, their faces haggard but their expressions agitated, holding high handwritten, crooked placards, passionately chanting slogans in unison:
"Happiness! Descend! Happiness! Duty!"
"Happiness! Duty! Happiness! Duty!"
The graffiti on the placards flickered in and out of view among the swaying figures… The fervent atmosphere was like an invisible vortex, carrying an unsettling, morbid sensation.
The crowd pushed and shoved, the roar of their slogans almost tearing off the roof.
Nyamu's heart tightened abruptly, her hands clutching the cardboard box trembling slightly.
She struggled to squeeze to the small, almost forgotten pick-up point by the side door, practically throwing the box down, fumbling to take a photo, and clicking "Delivered."
As the completion notification sounded, she turned and ran like a startled rabbit, not daring to look back, wanting only to escape this area enveloped in fervent morbidity as quickly as possible.
The uniform, deafening shouts behind her, like maggots clinging to bone, lingered in her ears for a long time.
Third order: A high-end office building in Shibuya, a leisure corner in the ground floor lobby.
The air conditioning was strong, a stark contrast to the muggy heat outside. The air was filled with the rich aroma of coffee and the low murmurs of elites.
The order was simple: a large black coffee, no sugar, light ice. Recipient name: [Misumi].
She waited in a corner of the lobby. Soon, a figure walked towards her.
It was a blonde girl wearing a black baseball cap pulled low, the shadow of the brim obscuring the upper half of her face, but from the clearly defined jawline, one could tell her face was exquisitely beautiful.
She wore a sharply tailored black athletic jacket, her posture erect, exuding a chilly aura that warned others to keep their distance, but she appeared to be about the same age as Nyamu.
"Delivery?" The girl's voice was faint, without much fluctuation.
"Ah, yes! Misumi-san? Your delivery." Nyamu quickly handed over the coffee.
The other party reached out to take it, and at the moment of transfer, the girl slightly raised her head.
Beneath the shadow of the brim, a pair of sharp purple eyes briefly, with a hint of scrutiny, swept across Nyamu's face.
Nyamu was slightly startled.
Immediately after, the girl's lips seemed to curve upward ever so slightly, revealing a fleeting, subtly ambiguous smile.
"Thank you." Her tone was still flat and unruffled.
The girl didn't spare Nyamu another glance, gripping the black coffee, she turned and walked towards the elevator bank, her steps brisk and decisive, quickly disappearing down the gleaming marble floor.
Nyamu stood rooted, unconsciously touching her own face.
That look and smile just now… what did it mean?
She shook her head, pushing the small puzzle to the back of her mind. There was another order to fulfill!
Fourth order: The same office building, a rehearsal room upstairs.
Dark clouds had swallowed the sunset at some unknown point.
Nyamu had just picked up five colorful freshly squeezed juice drinks from a store when pea-sized raindrops suddenly started to fall without warning.
Pitter-patter, instantly forming a curtain of rain.
"Oh no!" Nyamu inwardly cried out.
This bright yellow delivery uniform had no waterproofing whatsoever! The thin layer of synthetic fabric was useless against the downpour.
No time to worry!
Fortunately, the delivery distance wasn't far, and there were no incidents along the way.
After stopping the scooter, she gritted her teeth, hugged the juice bag tightly to her chest, and ran frantically towards the familiar office building, braving the torrential rain.
The cold rainwater mercilessly soaked her entire body, the yellow uniform clinging tightly to her skin, heavy and icy.
Her hair was plastered wetly to her cheeks and neck, and her shoes made a "splish-splash" sound as she stepped on the waterlogged pavement.
When she rushed into the office building lobby, she looked as if she had just been pulled out of water. Her soaked uniform dripped, leaving a winding trail of water on the floor.
Ignoring the surprised glances from the front desk, she clutched the soaking wet juice bag, rushed into the elevator, and pressed the button for the rehearsal room floor.
In the humming ascent of the elevator, she shivered slightly from the cold, wanting only to finish this accursed last order quickly.
The elevator doors slid open. The corridor leading to the rehearsal rooms was quiet, with faint, scattered notes of instrument tuning vaguely audible from behind the soundproof doors.
Nyamu, carrying the heavy juice bag and dragging her soaked legs, walked towards the room marked with the rehearsal room number.
Just as she was about to reach the door, her steps abruptly halted.
Outside the thick soundproof door of the rehearsal room, a person stood quietly.
It was a tall young man, his bronzed skin gleaming with a healthy glow in the slightly dim corridor light, his short golden hair meticulously styled, like melted sunshine.
He wore dark casual clothes, his posture relaxed and steady, forming a stark contrast to Nyamu's current disheveled state.
In his hand, he held a transparent plastic cup containing a deep, bottomless black coffee with ice cubes.
He seemed to be listening with his head slightly tilted, as if to the faint music emanating from inside the door, or perhaps simply waiting for something. And when Nyamu's splashing footsteps approached, he turned his head at the sound.
A momentary surprise appeared in his dark eyes, falling upon Yuutenji Nyamu, who was soaking wet and clutching a bag of juice.
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