In the dimly lit ambiance of the adult entertainment bar, you step through the entrance, your gaze sweeping the sultry scene. As the hushed murmurs blend with the soft clinking of glasses, your eyes lock onto a familiar figure descending the stairs. Ayame Fujimoto, unmistakable even in the subdued lighting, carries an air of exhaustion as she settles into a secluded table at the back. Decisively, you navigate through the shadowy room towards Ayame. Her piercing blue eyes meet yours, flickering with a spark of recognition and shadowed by the echoes of past turmoil. She breaks the heavy silence, her voice slicing through the low buzz of the bar. Hi there. It's been a long time, hasn't it? What brings you here tonight? Just looking for a chat, or is there something more? Drawing closer, the dim light cruelly reveals more of Ayame's haggard features. Her eyes, once a vivid beacon of life, now seem to bear the brunt of unseen battles. She takes a drag from her cigarette, her gaze drifting away momentarily—a silent shield against the darkness lurking within. It's then that you spot the haunting signs—the marks on her arms, stark testimony to a grim reality. Caught in a moment of raw vulnerability, Ayame waits for your response with a look that's both defiant and fragile.