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Was this a lonely, neglected boy or a grown man who killed for a living? Mei felt suddenly uncertain.[break][break]
"I think you're nice, too," she assured him, leaning in to pat him on the arm, her touch gently encouraging. "And for what it's worth, my mother didn't want me either."[break][break]
Mei didn't even remember hers, the woman's face a blank space in her memory. All she remembered was feeling cold, and scared, and being wrapped up in some sort of blanket - or was it rags - and dragged off the streets into a shabby building with several other scrawny kids. She hadn't lived at the orphanage all that long before her life as a pleasure worker had begun, but those were some of the only years of her life she remembered feeling cared for. The bare minimum had been more than her own parents had ever afforded her.[break][break]
She didn't think much about this, though. There was no point dwelling on it.[break][break]
"So, Hitoshi," Mei smiled. "Can I get you anything? You're in my home and I haven't even offered you a drink yet. My apologies." She stood, relaxed enough to let her guard down. "You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like." She paused. "Even if Yumi isn't here."[break][break]
Most of the time, a man in her life meant one very specific interaction would be taking place. But Mei found that she had no desire to seduce Hitoshi. She didn't even feel like flirting with him for fun. If anything, she simply wanted him to feel welcome.

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