He'd been breathing in my ear, falling asleep after an hour. Wanting him to stay, but needing him to sleep. The way he'd been speaking to me. It wasn't the usual way I heard him. His stress level, the pain in him. We were matching each other, but I couldn't say it. I have to wear a blue suit to work, but I shouldn't have to. It shouldn't be that way. My boss has made me see the hotel for what it is, and I don't want to be here. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do about this situation, and the more I sit on it the more uncomfortable I am. The more rage I feel, just like the one I hear in your voice. I don't want to be on this side anymore, and I don't know what to do. 

From the first moment I saw him wearing that pink beret, I think the unrest started. Knowing without a doubt that there was another way to live. That I didn't have to listen to superiors, or go along with what they do. This whole journey was so short, but it had seemed like a long life lived. Wanting to be different, but not knowing that until I saw his pink beret. His colors looked like ice cream and sweets, this fairyland of joy and candy. He was what happiness could be, just from his clothes. And getting to know him, he proved all that and more. He proved what life could be, and I couldn't bear that it was getting taken away by this world that I was still a part of. 

This terrible world. It was Wednesday now. Two days left, and those boys would be leaving. No consequences. The more I thought about it, the more I knew how hopeless it was. My general manager and Matsuda-san's discussion, how Matsuda-san could get out of it. How simple it was to deny any evidence. To laugh it off. 

How powerless I was. Hearing Kazuya on the phone in simmering rage, trying to keep it down for me, but there were subtle changes. How mad he was when he found out it was two young boys. How helpless his sounds were, his angry sobs. That rageful despair. 

I sat by the window, the blue winter world outside in the lowlight of the moon. If not for the trees, I'd be able to see French Cup. Abandoned, personless. Not even Kazuya would be there, an agreement unsaid, for the foreseeable future. Any worse thought was unbearable. The idea, the image, of it being empty of tables and chairs. The showcase with nothing inside. No one behind the counter. His smile, never there to greet me again. 

There was no talk of going back. No indication if this was a break or permanent. He didn't talk about it. I didn't press. But there was that despair. That nothingness. All because two boys had came and ruined it all. And they never would have been here, if not for this hotel. 

The stories I'd heard about this neighborhood before the hotel had been here. Artists of all types, wandering the neighborhood. So many more shops open, the neighborhood expanded beyond these few streets and satellite businesses in surrounding blocks. A world full of color. A whole rainbow, so many different things to see. Everyone enjoying each other, so many friends. 

This hotel had destroyed more than French Cup. Just by its very existence, it had already destroyed this neighborhood. How it used to be, oh how it was! If you'd only been here!

There'd been a different hotel here before this place. That, I had learned. A residence, with studio apartments. Low rent, attracting artists. It wasn't fancy. It was rumored to have bugs. Half the air conditioners didn't work and sometimes there were cracks in the walls from the old building settling. An eyesore, by many people's standards. But, to them it was perfect. To them, it was paradise. To them, it was home. 

Together with this neighborhood, it was the perfect cocktail. From what I'd heard, everyone lived in harmony. Because, the people in that hotel mixed well with this community. They flowed into their shops and made friends. They even started their own shops. These free-thinking people. Not all of them were LGBTQ, but they were open. They were what my new friends called "allies". The importance of allies. I was learning that now. How much they needed allies in order to thrive. 

The people in this hotel were definitely their enemies. Going into their shops and making trouble. Now, they had literally made war. The unlikeliest of hotel guests had done it.

They needed allies now more than ever. 

My finger went into the air, shaking at it. An idea. I got up out of my chair and stretched my back. My eyes were heavy with sleep, and I had a whole shift ahead of me. However, I had to do something. And maybe, this idea might do something. If it didn't then I was at a loss, but I had to try. 

My fingers curled around the pen on the chest of drawers with The Modern neatly printed on it. A notepad with the hotel's emblem of a crown of vines was underneath it. Staring at them both for a second, I weighed my decision. But, I found it was an easy one. I sat again and set my pen to paper, no hesitating second thought.

But, I jumped and gasped as the phone started to ring. Not my personal cellphone, but the one in my room. Trying to figure out why. It was past 4AM. I got up out of my seat again and went to the phone with little urgency. Maybe a misplaced call by the night auditor, a bad transfer. That's what it had to be at this late hour. 

The phone's cord made a clattering sound as I picked up. "Hello?" My voice was more sleepy than I thought.

"PARK-SAN! OH GOD- PARK-SAN, YOU NEED TO COME NOW! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! YOU NEED TO COME! YOU NEED TO COME NOW!"

My entire body clenched up, frozen in the spot. My breath stopped. This same reaction as when the firecrackers went off. Mirrored. My hand tightened on the phone at Tomoko. Her panic. 

"What-" My breath caught. I needed to force myself. "What happened?!"

The usual night auditor was talking rapidly on the other phone. Saying our general manager's name, the same panic in her voice. So loud. I knew her to be a quiet, mousy sort of person. 

"Park-saaan, you need to come." Tomoko's voice, dropping into tears. "Please come, it's still happening, I don't know what to do."

"What's-"

"Park-san." The night auditor's clear, no nonsense voice. She'd taken the phone from Tomoko. It made me stand up straighter. She sounded like the police. But, my hands were shaking. Just what was- "Park-san, listen to me. You need to come now. We need to go to Matsuda-san's room. We've been getting calls from the surrounding floors. There's screaming. Park-san, from what we can tell from these calls...he's beating his wife." 

A small gasp in my throat. Strange, small tears jumping to my eyes. 

"Call the police." My immediate response. My only thought. Automatic. 

"We called them, but he isn't stopping. Every second we delay... Park-san, some of these calls say they hear the children screaming, too." 

Eerieness crept up in my blood. Traveling from my toes to my fingers to the top of my head. A crawling. Rooted to my spot, the same images that I'd been going over for days appearing once again. 

The younger boy holding his finger up to us for help. The older one's cold stare as he told me he'd thrown firecrackers into French Cup on purpose. That first day, when Matsuda-san had cuffed the younger on the back of the head for daring to enjoy our aquarium outside of the restaurant. Their mother, being humiliated in front of everybody on the stairs as Matsuda-san threatened her. 

This same man, who called all of my friends and myself perverts. Who'd said bombing French Cup was a game. Laughing as he gathered doughnuts and said the whole thing was ridiculous. His ease at hitting his son in front of everybody. His ease at yelling at his wife, his children there seeing this and being helpless. 

Now, he was beating his wife. His children were inside the room. What he was capable of. If he could hit his son so easily. If he could yell at his wife like it was nothing. If he thought bombing French Cup was a game, what else was he capable of?

The phone dropped out of my hand and and crashed onto the table. My feet might not have even touched the floor before I banged open my door. 

This man. This horrible man. Suddenly, I knew who the real culprit was, all these crimes he had committed. His laughing face. His horrible, laughing face. 

There was only one word being repeated in the hallway as soon as we'd exited the elevator. This terrible scream, like it was ripping apart a body. Several guests were in the hallway in nightgowns and bathrobes. Outside of their doors, unsure if they should intervene. One of them was on his cellphone, calling somebody. Tomoko, our night auditor, and I were only a small party but we were all there was. There wouldn't be anyone else coming in time. 

The guests rushed us, but I put out my hands. 

Tomoko was in tears, hearing the younger Matsuda boy calling for his mom over and over again. Our night auditor stopped at the elevator, unable to take a step further. She looked like she was going to be sick. Tomoko was holding the keycard to get into the room, but I swiped it away from her. Instead, I gestured to the man on the phone to come with me. He put his phone in the pocket of his bathrobe. This we did wordlessly, in seconds. 

I wished I had a baseball bat. 

The card clicked against the door's reader, making it beep a couple of times. In this, I swung the door open and felt everyone outside of it take a step back, a collective breathing inward for the worst. 

A flood of sound. Ones we couldn't hear in the hallway. These repeated blows on flesh. Matsuda-san's wife was behind the bed near the window. Her naked feet were showing, wiggling in Matsuda-san's efforts as he was on top of her, his hands together in a collective fist, coming down on her over and over again. His face was unreadable, and she wasn't making any sounds. As soon as I got inside, I saw a sight that contended for the most horrible.

The boys were pressed against the far wall on the other side of the open door. The older was holding the younger to himself as the younger one screamed for his mom. The older one was watching his parents. How long had he been watching it? When had she stopped screaming? What was happening beyond that bed, that he had seen? 

He saw me at the last second as I scooped up his brother in my arms. Putting him over my shoulder. To me, he weighed very little. He didn't struggle, didn't try to hurt me. Crying for his mom in my ear, his tear soaked face like he was much younger. Snot running down his nose into his mouth. The older let me have him willingly. But, there was no relief in his stance. No change in his face. The same cold one I'd seen twice. 

The guest I'd recruited entered the room as I left it, and I gave the boy to a woman wearing a frilly nightgown. She took him and knelt down, immediately checking him over as I saw them briefly. He rubbed his face with his fist, becoming unintelligible, just noises. 

I reentered the room and saw the guest grab Matsuda-san around the waist. Matsuda-san lost his balance and fell on his wife. She didn't make a sound. Seeing this finality, I shoved the older Matsuda boy out of the room. He looked over his shoulder. He wouldn't stop looking at them. 

There was a strange numbness over me. An unfeeling sense of duty. Needing to do this. Protecting others, just like when I'd run out of French Cup. 

As I stared at the older Matsuda boy reuniting with his brother, hugging him as the younger one was crying out of control, a realization dawned on me. A disturbing thought. One I didn't want in my head, because it didn't mesh with what I wanted. 

But, this I knew was a terrible truth. A knowing and an understanding. A sudden bond with the older boy, that deeply unnerved everything inside of myself.