I pretended to be Death, Yet she never stepped back.

Peanuts flew into the middle of the room, hurled out of a bowl that was tossed in the air. Frightened revelers quickly slipped away, as the bartender desperately tried to save the glasses and bottles on the counter. Everything but that. Not the glassware!

He was able to save in extremis two stemmed glasses and gazed at them in his right hand, heaving a sigh of relief.

Only to see them being shattered a few seconds later, and only have the lower part of said glasses between his fingers.

Annoyed, he limply let the rest of the debris fall in the trash can at his feet, then took off his apron. Enough. He'd had enough.

The boss must have already called the cops anyway. There was no way he was approaching the center of the hurricane which was taking place right in front of him; and which was scaring more and more customers away.

That thing? Never.

Especially with such a furious woman at its center…

He brought a hand to his face, holding back from crying, and leaned back against the wall of shelves with hundreds of bottles of different colors and shapes conspicuously placed there.

Tonight was really hellish. He'd never signed up for this. All he wanted was enough to pay for his tuition fees. And not having a traumatic experience that would haunt him forever.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself down, and massaged his temples. Then, he opened them again, and looking up, took one last glance at a woman in a dark purple dress clinging to the back of an older man; her legs encircling the latter's torso, and her hands reaching out to rip his hair off his head. The bartender decided to retreat into the employee break room, leaving behind a woman screaming at the top of her lungs and an unfortunate guy who knew exactly what he'd done wrong.

Yet a few minutes earlier, there was no prior indication that such a chaotic scene was going to occur. Because fifteen minutes before the disaster struck, everything looked like a more than usual evening.

People danced haphazardly or in the same way in the middle of the room, while on the sides, tables and benches were stormed by revelers going out one last time before the work week resumed its course.

Young women dressed flirtatiously to impress, and others came with friends to let off steam and have fun. The men were not left out, either pushed away or finding people to hang out with. The groups of young men were especially loud, ordering bottles after bottles of beer, sake, or other various alcoholic beverages.

Cocktails in garish colors had claimed many tables and had also invaded the bar counter, in front of which several stools were arranged.

And on one of those stools sat 42-year-old Kobayashi Shinsuke. The relatively tall man always stood taller than most people, even when seated on his stool. Blame it on a much too high seat.

He gazed apathetically at the glass and bottles of beer in front of him, still wondering where he could have gone wrong in his life to come to this. Except that tonight, he wanted to forget some things. Yet he knew it was a waste of time, and that he would remember everything, whether it was later that night or the next day, or ten years from now.

He rested his head in his hand, leaning on the bar counter, and felt under his palm the characteristic scratching of the hairs of his three-day stubble beard. He had had it all the time, for a few years, and had given up on having a clean, smooth face like guys his age, or younger ones. What could it be good for, anyway? It went hand in hand with her hair cropped close below the ears, but left completely grown out and an untamed mess above. His right arm still hurt, too. It was like that with every sudden change in temperature, and he kinda regretted he'd been hanging out for so long.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice came from his right.

He glanced distractedly to the side where the voice was coming from, and sure, a young woman with long, straight black hair combed entirely to the right side was staring at him with gray eyes. She had long bands and all of her hair pulled back and thrown over her right shoulder, falling in front of her chest. She was dressed in a long dark purple dress with a low-cut neckline that reached her just above the knees. But surprisingly, she didn't have high heels to match her outfit. Instead, she had small black sneakers shining in some places. Her fingernails weren't varnished either, despite the dress she was wearing clearly stating that she was a woman eagerly following the trends.

"How does it looks to you?" Shinsuke replied dryly.

He really didn't want to talk tonight. And even less to a woman dressed in a provocative fashion.

"Wow, you and good manners make two," she said, taking a seat next to him on the stool that had remained vacant until then. She then turned to the bartender. "Hey, kid! A beer like this mister, with ginger and lemon!"

The young man, visibly little disturbed by the familiar attitude of the young woman a priori was hardly older than him, did so, and a few minutes later, a large and slender glass filled with the three ingredients and embellished with a lemon slice on the rim was placed in front of the young woman.

She smiled to herself, visibly pleased, and began to drink like a bottomless pit from the entire glass.

"Are you a regular here?" she asked.

She didn't get an answer, obviously because Shinsuke didn't think she would speak to him again after their brief interaction. But he had to face the facts head-on when she nudged him in the arm. And thus hit the arm that hurt him.

"Why do you even care, since it's not your business?" he finally growled.

She was starting to annoy him, and he hoped that she was really going to let go and focus her attention on someone else.

"Wow, one does get angry easily there," she said in a monotonous voice, but with an amused air. "I now know why no one is approaching you."

Annoyed, he risked a glance at the young woman, who in the meantime had ordered and emptied a new glass, and he shivered. She was glaring at him, a stern look on her face that didn't match someone her age. She was staring at him intently, both to show her displeasure, but also to make him react. It seemed like a game for her, pushing his buttons, and seeing how he reacted.

"Look, I came here to drink, not to chat," he replied quickly, answering her gaze by staring at her too.

"Yet here you are, talking with me there. Can't you settle on one option?" the young woman mocked, a carnivorous smile displayed on her face. "One would think you were waiting for me."

Despite himself, Shinsuke's gaze wandered over to the young woman's chest, before returning to her face. A face that this time was not the least amused.

"Hey. Either one talks to me or doesn't talk to me. But if you're from the latter, you have to avoid staring at me." she said in a serious, angry tone.

But even so, she'd dressed revealingly. So even without really looking, he couldn't help but stare at her.

"I've been saying all along that I don't want to talk to you!" Shinsuke replied, annoyed, and with a heated mind after his third bottle of soju this evening. He was seriously starting to lose his patience there.

The young woman seemed to take the rejection very badly, and this time ordered a glass of whiskey which she also emptied in one go. She didn't even savor the taste of the drink and poured out glass after glass as if her life was on the line.

He didn't hear her say a word for ten minutes, and finally thought he was left alone; when she forcefully came back.

"Hey dude, you really have a shitty character, you know that?" she said slowly, to maximize the impact of her words on the man standing next to her.

Shinsuke got angry and red, as she'd expected.

"I know, so shut up!" he yelled. "I don't need a jerk like you to tell me!"

He breathed heavily, obviously still pissed off, but already less than a few minutes ago, having finally been able to let off steam and throw at her what was on his heart.

However, he did not foresee what would happen next.

At first, even the bartender had jumped back at Shinsuke's shrug.

Then their side of the counter fell silent, no one speaking despite the surrounding noise.

He didn't venture to glance to his right when he heard the legs of a stool skid across the vinyl floor, proof that someone had just stood up. He even thought the young woman was finally gone; until he felt a hand on his head.

A totally strange and unusual feeling, for someone as tall as him.

And immediately, the hand tightened its grip, grabbing his hair and pulling hard.

"OUCH!" he yelled.

He glared to the side and saw the young woman standing, an evil look on her face.

She was trying to pull his hair out and pulled it so hard she dragged Shinsuke with her, making him go down from his stool.

"Let me go!" he yelled in pain.

But already, the young woman screamed back at him. And pulled his hair so hard that he found himself on all fours on the ground, crawling in an attempt to escape her.

"You don't stand a chance, you creep! Let me show you!" the young woman shouted.

"Get the hell away from me!" Shinsuke shouted while struggling.

A waste of time, as the young woman took the opportunity to mount on his back as if he were a horse. He struggled and grabbed one of the vacant stools in an attempt to knock it down onto the young woman on his back. But she pulled very hard again on his hair, with both of her hands this time.

"Where do you think you're going like this, EH?" the young woman growled. "Speaking badly to me, and then thinking you're going to get away with it?!"

To great ills, great remedies.

He had to bring her down.

Gritting his teeth to endure the throbbing pain burning his scalp, he suddenly stood up.

What he hadn't expected – yet again – was that the young woman, even drunk, would have enough response to pull her legs forward and tighten them around his chest.

"Let go of me, you freak!" he screamed, in vain.

The young woman seemed to enjoy the impromptu rodeo and was having even more fun tormenting him like that. Him? Not so much. He leaned back against the bar, therefore placing the young woman's back against said bar. Then rolled. He struggled so hard that he began to knock off bottles and glasses from the counter.

"Who are you calling crazy here?! I'll teach you!" the young woman replied fiercely, still hanging on his back.

Then… Chaos descended on the nightclub…