The main job of a mimikaki hostess was cleaning customers’ ears.
Near her home in Akihabara, Saotome chose a shop that did not provide sexual services and began working there.
After several weeks of professional training, she began working there with genuine excitement.
Every day, she arrived early—preparing tools, tidying the rooms, even voluntarily cleaning before opening hours.
That attitude helped her settle into the shop quickly.
In Japan, the work of a mimikaki hostess involved far more than ear cleaning alone.
Before each session, she would change into a yukata.
During the service, customers would usually rest their heads on her lap—a lap pillow.
Beyond ear cleaning, the reserved session time also included gentle neck massages and casual conversation.
Saotome was not exceptionally beautiful.
But her movements were delicate, her voice soft, and she treated every detail with near-obsessive care.
Gradually, she built a reputation inside the shop.
Customers began specifically requesting her by name.
The additional income from reservations finally eased the financial pressure on her family.
For the first time, she truly began to believe—
if she just worked a little harder, she could build a stable future for everyone.
Until that customer appeared.
At first, he seemed no different from anyone else.
He visited at fixed times, returned regularly—almost the definition of an ideal regular customer.
But at some point, his visits gradually became unnatural.
Once every two weeks.
Then once a week.
Almost every single day.
His name was Sato Koichi.
He began reserving extremely long sessions, starting at three hours minimum.
The ear-cleaning service itself could only last twenty or thirty minutes at most.
For the remaining time, Saotome could only fill the silence with massages and conversation.
At first, the topics were ordinary.
But eventually—
the questions changed.
“What do you think I look like?”
For a brief moment, Saotome’s hands stopped moving.
She looked at his slightly gaunt face.
And those narrow eyes—clouded with something strange.
She hesitated for a second.
“…Average. Maybe slightly above average.”
A chill settled over the room.
His expression stiffened.
“I always clean myself up before coming here, don’t I?”
“I should be handsome, right?”
His voice lost its warmth.
Saotome immediately forced a smile, trying to smooth things over.
“No, no—‘above average’ is already the highest compliment I give. I’m ordinary myself…”
That sentence seemed to trigger something.
Suddenly, he smiled.
“So we’re a perfect match.”
That was the moment he stopped being just a customer to her.
He no longer felt human to her.
She continued smiling.
But her fingertips had already gone cold.
July 15th.
Her birthday.
That morning, she exited the subway station like usual.
And she saw him.
Sato stood beside the station exit as though he had been waiting there all along.
No phone.
No wandering gaze.
Just standing there.
Waiting for her.
The moment their eyes met, he smiled.
“This is for you.”
He handed her a paper bag.
Inside were nothing but neatly packed jelly cups.
The instant she saw them, a chill ran down her spine.
She understood what it meant.
Almost instinctively, she turned and walked away.
Faster and faster—until she was practically running.
Only after the shop door slammed shut behind her did she realize she was trembling.
When she explained the situation to the manager, her voice shook slightly.
And Sato—standing near the entrance—heard every word.
He said nothing.
He only looked at her.
That gaze was so quiet it became unsettling.
He walked to the counter and canceled his reservation.
From that day onward, she became afraid.
She made posts online asking for help.
Not long after, Sato came to the shop again.
During the session, he suddenly spoke.
“I saw the post you made.”
Her stomach dropped.
She couldn't say anything after that.
Not for the entire three hours.
Afterward, she immediately requested a transfer.
She thought that if she left, everything would finally end.
The shop transferred her to Shinjuku—ten kilometers away from Akihabara.
She thought that distance would make her safe.
It didn’t.
Later, messages started arriving.
“Where are you now?”
“Why weren’t you at work today?”
The calls began.
Every single time, the number was different.
But the voice—
was always the same.
She changed SIM cards.
Changed accounts.
Changed her routes home.
But the messages never stopped.
Instead, they became more accurate.
Closer.
More intimate.
As though someone were always standing just out of sight—no matter where she turned.
“You got off work later today.”
“Changed your route?”
“No matter how much you change, it’s useless.”
Eventually, she didn’t even try to look back.
Stopped daring to slow down.
Stopped even trusting whether she was truly being watched—or imagining it.
One day, inside the Shinjuku shop—
she saw him again.
He sat there calmly, as though nothing had happened.
And in that instant, she understood something.
That distance meant absolutely nothing to him.
After that, her days became hell.
He started reserving entire days at a time.
She stopped speaking altogether.
Other than the bare minimum required for work, she said nothing.
But he began touching her.
Her fingers.
Her wrist.
The edge of her clothing.
Each time creeping closer to the line he should never cross.
“Want to see a movie after work?”
No response.
“How about dinner?”
Silence.
“I’ll come find you.”
That sentence made her entire body freeze.
After that, he stopped asking.
He simply acted.
Until finally—
she saw it.
Among crowds.
In reflections on glass.
In train windows.
Those eyes.
Always there.
He never hid.
Never fled.
Never even looked ashamed.
He simply stood there.
Watching her.
And after their eyes met, Sato slowly walked toward her.
“I’ve always been watching you.”
His voice was calm.
“You’re really kind.”
“I think about you every single day.”
“We belong together.”
At that moment, everything emptied out.
She couldn’t think.
There was only one thought left—
Run.
She turned and ran without stopping, rushing home, locking every door and window, pulling the curtains shut.
But that feeling of being watched never disappeared.
It only became stronger.
The walls.
The ceiling.
Her phone screen.
Even the space between people felt like it was watching her.
She couldn’t tell what was real anymore.
And what wasn’t.
She broke.
Even after finishing her story, Saotome still looked shaken.
Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of her clothes until her knuckles turned pale.
As though the moment she turned around—
he would be standing somewhere just out of sight, silently watching her.
Silence lingered in the air for a while.
After a moment, Xia Jiuwei suddenly seemed to think of something.
Her eyes lit up slightly.
A mischievous smile spread across her face.
“I can solve this for you.”
Her tone was light, as though discussing something completely trivial.
“I can even let him experience what it feels like to be watched.”
She tilted her head slightly toward Saotome.
“But you’ll have to follow my instructions exactly.”
Saotome nodded faintly.
The next instant—
space itself seemed to tear open gently.
Xia Jiuwei, Lu Nian’an, and Saotome Naomi vanished instantly and reappeared inside Saotome’s apartment.
Late that night, Saotome suddenly jolted awake.
Instinctively, she looked beside her—
no one.
The room was empty.
Everything that had just happened felt as though it had been cut out of reality itself, leaving behind only fading traces.
Her breathing quickened.
Her fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
“…Was it a dream?”
She whispered the words softly, though she did not believe them herself.
She never wanted to see him again—or feel that way again.
And yet—
the oppressive sensation of being watched still lingered.
She lay back down, trying desperately to calm herself.
But once she closed her eyes—
all she could see were those eyes.
Those eyes that had always been watching her.
She never fell asleep again.
Time passed little by little until dawn arrived and pale light slowly filtered through the curtains.
Saotome still lay motionless in bed.
Staring blankly at the ceiling.
She did not want to leave.
Did not even want to step outside this room.
As though the moment she did—
he would find her again.
“Ah… I forgot there was a time difference.”
Xia Jiuwei scratched her head awkwardly, laughing a little in embarrassment.
For once, her smile looked a little awkward.
She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Beside her, Lu Nian’an’s expression changed slightly.
Without saying anything, she immediately turned and began searching through the apartment.
Bedroom.
Living room.
Hallway.
Her footsteps unconsciously quickened.
Until finally—
she pushed open the bedroom door.
The moment she saw the figure lying on the bed, she finally let out a breath of relief.
It was a breath she had been holding for far too long.
Walking to the bedside, she softened her voice.
“…Are you okay?”
Saotome froze for a moment.
That voice sounded familiar.
Slowly, she turned her head.
And the instant she saw Lu Nian’an—
the emotions she had suppressed all night suddenly collapsed all at once.
Her throat tightened.
Even breathing became difficult.
The tears came before she could stop them.
As though she could finally confirm—
she was no longer alone.
Lu Nian’an stood quietly beside the bed for several seconds before finally speaking softly.
“…Sorry.”
“We came too late.”