Chapter Text
The door to Luka’s apartment opened. She lived in a rundown building that, just by looking at it, one could swear wouldn’t last much longer. The familiar smell of tobacco, dust, and alcohol hit her like a cold slap, only making her day worse.
Her shift ran from 8 to 7. She got home at 9, drank until midnight, thickening her blood like jam, woke up at 5 a.m.—another 8-to-7 shift. As always, Luka went to her refrigerator, only to find that her elixir of life had run out once again. She considered going out to buy more; however, she felt afraid… afraid of someone who always seemed to appear at the worst possible moments.
*Ding dong…*
“Heyy… Lukita, are you home?” Small knocks joined the doorbell. “You’re not working overtime again, right? I missed you so much today.”
For Luka, the day couldn’t get any worse. Part of her routine was completely ignoring the brat who stood outside her apartment, lingering there and monologuing at the door. She would have called the police, but the last time she did, she had been drunk, humiliating herself in front of the officer who responded. Besides, she had stopped feeling deserving of help a long time ago.
“…I brought some food! Maybe we could enjoy it together on your couch, don’t you think? I imagine the food at your job must be awful, right? I just hope you don’t mind that I cooked it my way—I promise it tastes good!”
With alcohol, it would have been easier to ignore the brat, who had already become part of her routine. Standing outside for hours, no matter how late it was, there she was—talking, waiting for Luka to open the door and let her in. Luka clenched her jaw at the mere idea of letting her inside, or even of her knowing Luka was there, watching her through the peephole.
She was pale, as if she never saw sunlight. She wore a patch over her left eye and was dressed in what was surely her work uniform. Her two cyan pigtails had already begun appearing in her nightmares. As always, Luka simply got ready for bed and turned off the lights, leaving the younger girl talking completely alone while Luka lay agonizing in her bed, feeling the disorderly sheets beneath her and the smell of old clothes.
“I’d love to show you someday! I’m not that good, but I think I could do it well… H-Hey, the food’s getting cold—you’re going to miss how good it is. I made it for you… Or are you going to let me eat it all by myself like last time? Hehe, I don’t mind either… But you could give it a chance, you know?”
She sighed. Eating… Luka didn’t do it very often. She was almost too thin, if not for living on instant noodles and pre-made food. She was hungry, in a way, and knowing she’d only be encouraging her stalker further, it didn’t sound so crazy to simply snatch the food and leave her outside. But… what if the girl really was dangerous? What if the food was tampered with? The brat could easily try to force her way in and do something stupid.
“What the hell am I thinking…?” Luka whispered, getting out of bed and heading toward the door. Her intrusive thought had won. She could swear that the silence and the ragged breathing of her stalker, aside from being disgusting, meant she was losing her patience. Luka held her breath, a shiver of revulsion running through her.
“…Leave the food at the door and go. It’s getting very late,” Luka said.
Her voice came out harsh and firm, though slightly trembling. The sound immediately caught the younger girl’s attention.
“So you were there…! Of course! No problem, uh… you’re right, it’s getting kind of late. I’ll go home now.”
Through the peephole, Luka watched the girl place a plastic bag on the floor, then look back at the door, almost aware that Luka was there, watching her.
“I had a really good time today. I love you, Lukita. Thank you so much for accepting my food this time—I promise it won’t let you down. You could tell me what your favorite dish is, and I could bring it every day. What do you think, hm?”
Luka didn’t respond, which left the girl somewhat disheartened once again. She walked away like an abandoned puppy. Luka let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, feeling relieved.
Luka waited until she was sure no one was behind the door before opening it and pulling the bag inside. It was still warm and smelled good—a typical Chinese snack, but served in an ordinary container. Luka almost thought the girl’s chatter was meaningless, despite the food tasting homemade. She never took her eyes off the phone beside her, emergency number ready in case she was ingesting poison or sedatives. But, contrary to what she had expected, the food was quite good and had nothing strange in it.
That night, Luka cloudn't sleep.