Aya wandered the streets of D-Dance City, her eyes scanning every corner for a glimpse of Ficky. She wasn't sure where to go, so she looked for the places he would naturally frequent.
"Hey, does this place make a lot of money quickly?" she asked every shopkeeper she met.
"Of course it does!" came the usual reply.
Aya knew Ficky was a man who couldn't stand a loss but had no problem causing one for others. He was obsessed with treasures, gold, and anything that smelled like a profit.
"He's probably hunkered down wherever the most gold is," she muttered to herself.
But after hours of searching, he was nowhere to be found.
"I have to find that stolen coin on my own," she said, her voice full of resolve as she pumped her fist. "I'll show him that I can collect them without his help. I won't be a burden anymore."
That was when she met Yuda—a man with glasses who was, to put it mildly, quite strange. He definitely wasn't Ficky.
Yuda had gifted her a unique, classic gown. The fabric was thin, yet it kept her surprisingly warm. Without much explanation, he had pulled her along to a quiet, elegant venue.
"Flamenco!"
The dancers on stage performed with such raw soul and intensity that the audience erupted in thunderous applause the moment they finished.
"Dance with me, and this coin will be yours!" Yuda said, extending his hand toward her.
Aya froze. It wasn't just the invitation that shocked her—it was the fact that Yuda was holding her stolen Coin of Hope.
"I'm sorry, but that's impossible," she replied.
"Why?"
Aya watched him suspiciously. She felt an underlying restlessness whenever she was around him. She had spent the last few hours with him, hoping to swipe the coin back secretly, but her intentions had been laid bare. She knew nothing about him. He looked human, but was he hiding something darker?
"I can't dance. At all," Aya repeated, shaking her head vigorously.
"Even if it means giving up on this?" Yuda dangled the coin in front of her again. Aya's resolve wavered.
"Earlier, you said you were interested in me? Fine, let me give you an answer," Aya said, closing her eyes.
Just as she was about to deliver a blunt rejection, Yuda pressed his finger against her lips.
"Don't be so quick to say it. I'm not ready to hear it yet," he whispered. "Now, are you serious? You're really going to turn me down when this coin is rightfully yours?"
"What do you even want with a Coin of Hope?" Aya asked, brushing his hand away from her chin.
"What else? To go home. Isn't that what these are for?"
"I can't just let the coin go... but I really can't dance."
The end of her sentence was cut short as Yuda suddenly grabbed her by the waist and hand. The other guests began to stare. It was clearly a misunderstanding fueled by Yuda's playful, pushy nature.
"Hey! I told you, I can't dance! And don't worry, I won't forget to pay you back for all your help, so—!"
"Shh... I'll lead you, Aya," Yuda hissed softly with a dangerously sweet smile. Aya fell silent, completely unsure of how to handle a man like this.
The crowd began to cheer, egging them on to show off a dance. Yuda nodded to them, tossed his leather jacket aside, and pulled Aya toward the center of the floor.
"I don't care if you can dance or not. Just being with you is enough," he said, taking off his glasses and tossing them to the side of the stage.
Something about Yuda had changed. Aya stood there, speechless, unable to even react to his movements. Her mouth felt stitched shut as her gaze locked onto his face. His eyes seemed to be fishing for something deep within her—not fear or a threat, but something else she couldn't name.
"Wait, I—"
Once again, she struggled to keep up. Her body was stiff; she had never danced a day in her life, let alone a dance as passionate as this.
"Just follow my lead, Aya," Yuda whispered.
The sound sent a shiver down her spine—it sounded like a soft command from a predator.
The dance began. It was elegant on Yuda's part, though Aya was as rigid as a board. It was a Salsa—a dance of partners—and Aya was merely being dragged along by his whims. They moved forward, spun, and pulled close. Startled by the sudden intimacy, Aya's reflexes kicked in; she pushed away and stepped back, only to trip over her own feet.
"Oof!"
The performance ended in a clumsy heap. The onlookers began to whisper and snicker about the woman who had ruined the moment.
"We need a better start than that. But I liked it," Yuda remarked, picking up her hand and kissing the back of it.
Aya yanked her hand back. Everything felt surreal and irritating. Her vision was blurry because Yuda had taken her glasses.
"That's enough. Give me the coin. And my glasses," she demanded, reaching for them.
But Yuda ignored her. He pulled her back up to her feet, forcing her to stand tall again.
"Are you all right? Tell me if you're hurt."
His aura shifted again. For a moment, he looked like he was about to pounce on her. He felt far more dangerous than Ficky had ever been, and it terrified her.
No. Don't be scared, she told herself. If my tail pops out now, I'm in real trouble. I can't let them target me.
"No, Yuda. We're done dancing. I'm not doing this again. Now—eh?"
Yuda suddenly closed the gap and pulled her into a tight embrace, lifting her slightly so she couldn't gain any leverage. She was trapped in his arms, unable to move an inch.
"Yuda, listen to me!"
"I don't want to listen. Tell me, Aya... are you really not interested in me at all?"
He was playing with her, forcing this intimacy in a way that was far from polite. He was relentless. Aya tried to break his grip, but her strength was no match for his.
They stood there, locked in position, staring at each other. Yuda's gaze was soft and inviting, but Aya's was sharp and cold.
"I'm much more interested in that Coin of Hope," she snapped.