Sunlight pierced through the thick curtains of Yuki's room, scattering in soft golden hues across the rumpled white sheets. Slowly, Yuki opened her eyes. For a few seconds, her mind was blank, caught between sleep and waking, until reality settled in: she was no longer in the brothel… nor in Japan.
Fully awake now, her gaze drifted to the empty side of the bed. Ivan wasn't there, just like before she went to sleep. But faintly, she could still smell him, that lingering trace of tobacco in the air.
A small smile ghosted across her lips. Yesterday, she had been restless and moody, uneasy after Ivan left her alone in this foreign place. Yet now, even the fading scent of him was enough to wash away her melancholy.
Though Ivan wasn't by her side when she woke, Yuki chose to believe Ivan was simply busy, just as Alisa had told her. She didn't want to overthink it. The fact that he had come to her room was enough to make her happy.
Taking a deep breath, she sat up and pushed away the sheets. A sharp knock on her door soon broke the silence of the room. Before she could respond—
CLICK!
The door opened without permission.
"Rise and shine, You Bum! You didn't even stay up late last night, so what's your excuse for waking up this late?"
The voice was teasing, almost playful. Igor stepped in, hands shoved into his pockets, his presence filling the space with quiet authority. A woman with soft features followed close behind him.
Alisa smiled politely when Yuki's sleepy eyes met hers.
"Good morning, Yuki. It's still early, but look—" she lifted a neatly folded set of clothes, "I've already brought your workout outfit."
Yuki blinked, confused. She clearly didn't understand why workout outfits had suddenly come up in their conversation.
"Workout outfit…?"
Igor chuckled lowly at her puzzled tone. His smirk was mocking, but there was something unreadable behind his eyes.
"You think you can just keep lying around all day in that bed?" he said, glancing around the room dismissively. "Starting today, you'll be training with me. Running, combat drills, shooting, horseback riding—whatever it takes to stop you from sitting still like a doll that can't move without its owner."
Yuki flinched slightly at his tone, the mockery in it, but she understood what it meant. It was an order. One she couldn't refuse, not if it came from Ivan.
On the other hand, Alisa, who had initially been observing Yuki behind Igor's body, finally stepped forward, her tone remaining gentle as she threw another bomb at Yuki.
"After physical training, you'll also begin English and Russian lessons with me. Your schedule will be quite full from now on… but on the bright side, you won't have to stay locked in your room anymore."
Yuki looked between them in silence. Her expression was blank, but her eyes flickered with something unreadable. It took a while for her to rise, take the outfit from Alisa's hands, and walk into the bathroom without a word.
"You've got five minutes to change!" Igor called after her.
Yuki froze. She didn't know whether to be afraid or annoyed by his voice echoing through the door. Either way, she quickened her movements, throwing on the clothes without much care before stepping back out, just in time to avoid another shout from Igor.
***
The hallway leading to the training grounds felt long for Yuki. Her light steps echoed behind the heavy sound of Igor's boots. The mansion was magnificent, yet its air carried a chill that made her feel as if she were walking into a place that did not welcome her.
She glanced at Igor's back a few times. Now that Alisa was gone, his teasing expression had vanished, replaced by a rigid seriousness. He said nothing the entire walk, which only made Yuki's chest tighten with unease.
"Um…"
Her voice finally broke the silence, soft but trembling. Igor didn't turn around, though she knew he'd heard her. Gathering her courage, Yuki spoke again, clearer this time.
"So… the Boss was the one who told you to train me?"
Igor stopped. He glanced at her briefly, then nodded once.
"Yes. All of this is his order."
Yuki lowered her head, gripping the hem of her sports jacket tightly. Questions filled her mind, but she swallowed them all. If this were Ivan's will, she would obey.
When Igor realized she had no more to say, he resumed walking. Yuki followed quietly, her steps a hesitant echo behind his. After a moment, Igor suddenly snorted and stopped again.
"If you hate this, why not run away?" he said, voice low and edged with cynicism. "I helped you once—I could help you again. Sure, the Boss would be angry for a while. But once he realizes there are plenty of girls out there to replace you, he'll forget you soon enough."
He turned to face her then, watching closely for her reaction. But Yuki's eyes didn't waver. They were calm, unwavering, and filled with quiet conviction.
That look made Igor recall Ivan's words from the night before.
Ivan saw Yuki as nothing more than entertainment, yet Yuki had already chosen to build her existence around him. That truth left a bitter taste in Igor's mouth.
Still, he pushed the feeling down. The conversation with Ivan had ended with a warning, one he could not afford to ignore. Life and death for Yuki were Ivan's decisions alone.
"You're still going to endure it, huh?" he muttered.
When Yuki met his eyes, silent but determined, Igor turned away and continued walking.
"Then listen carefully."
This time, Igor slowed his pace. His gaze was still fixed straight ahead, but he was slowly walking so Yuki could hear him properly.
"If you want to survive here, you'll need strength. Not just in your body… but in your head."
They stopped before a massive set of doors. From behind it, faint sounds echoed. Yuki heard rough laughter, the bark of orders, the thud of fists meeting flesh.
Igor's voice dropped even lower after that.
"Prove to them you're not just some useless whore, Yuki. Otherwise, they'll treat you like trash."
The words hung heavy in the cold air.
Yuki stared at the door. The noise beyond it seemed to pulse in her chest. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself.
Then, with small but steady steps, Yuki walked through the door.