Chapter 76: 75
"Get a new phone," Airi said flatly, propping her chin on her palm as she watched him with half-lidded, lazy eyes. "That one's busted."
Yuki stared at the dead device in his hand like it was a corpse he hadn't yet accepted was gone. His thumb kept brushing over the black screen, pressing a useless power button again and again like maybe sheer stubbornness could resurrect silicon and glass.
Airi sat up slowly, stretching like a cat, the loose neckline of her shirt sliding down her shoulder. "I know a cool phone store very close by," she continued, brushing her hair behind her ear. "You'd definitely find your good taste there."
That last line hit with a teasing punch, half compliment, half jab — pure Airi.
Yuki sighed through his nose, leaned back against the wall, and stared up at the ceiling like it had all the answers. "New phone, huh," he muttered. His jaw clenched, the weight of that idea settling in. It wasn't just about the cost. It was everything that lived on that device: his games, codes, contacts, half-finished projects, the cash flow pipeline he'd been building for months.
"Not like I've got much of a choice," he said finally, lowering his gaze. "This one's probably fried all the way through."
Airi hopped off the bed, bare feet padding against the cool floor. She rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a pair of ripped jeans, and wriggled into them with an ease that came from not caring if someone was watching — or maybe caring too much and knowing exactly what she was doing.
"You're acting like somebody died," she said casually, tugging her hair into a loose knot. "It's just a phone."
Yuki chuckled once, humorless. "Yeah, well, some people care about money more than they care about breathing, Airi. That phone was my lifeline."
She zipped up, grabbed her sneakers, and slid onto the bed to tie them. "Then let's go bring you back to life, big shot," she said, her grin playful now. "You can cry about it on the way."
Yuki pushed up, stuffing the dead phone in his pocket like maybe it deserved a small bit of dignity. "You know," he said as he shoved his arms into his hoodie, "you could at least pretend to care."
"Oh, I care," Airi said sweetly, already at the door, leaning against the frame with her weight cocked to one side. "I care enough to take you shopping instead of watching a drama and eating ramen. That's basically my version of love."
He gave her a side-eye as he stepped past. "Your standards for love are trash."
"Yup," she said, popping the 'p' with a smirk, "and yet you keep coming back."
---
The streets outside smelled of rain — not fresh, clean rain, but city rain, the kind that dripped off rusted gutters and mixed with gasoline. Neon bled off shop windows, making the puddles glow like broken mirrors.
Airi walked ahead, hands in pockets, hips swinging in that way that made heads turn without her even trying. Yuki kept pace behind her, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie, jaw set, eyes flicking at every shop sign like he was already hunting for the cure to his bad day.
"You know," Airi said after a stretch of quiet, "Jeremy's shop is actually in the same direction."
Yuki shot her a look. "And you didn't lead with that?"
She smirked. "I like watching you suffer a little first."
"Sadist," he muttered.
"Mm-hm."
They walked a few blocks before the street narrowed into a stretch of older shops, the kind of place that had been there long before the new glass towers went up. Signs flickered. Old men smoked outside convenience stores. A couple of drunks laughed too loud near a vending machine.
"There," Airi said, nodding toward a small, glass-fronted shop with a glowing phone icon hanging over the door. "Best in the district. No scammy upcharges, no fake parts. You'll walk out of there with something that actually works."
Yuki stood outside for a second, staring through the glass at rows of sleek devices lined like soldiers, some new, some refurbished. The smell of plastic and faint solder drifted through the crack in the door.
"You coming in or standing there looking suspicious?" Airi asked, raising an eyebrow.
He exhaled, then pushed the door open.
---
Inside, it was warm, buzzing with the low hum of electronics and the faint clicking of some kid at a repair bench in the corner. A tall guy in a grey hoodie stood behind the counter, dark hair falling into his eyes as he leaned over a tablet.
Jeremy.
Yuki didn't have to ask. He knew by the way Airi's smirk twitched into something she tried to hide.
"Well, look who finally decided to visit," Jeremy said without looking up, voice smooth but distracted.
Airi leaned casually against the counter. "This one," she said, jerking a thumb toward Yuki, "dropped his whole digital life into a toilet."
That got Jeremy to look up. His eyes flicked from Airi to Yuki, scanning him briefly, like he was already assessing the type of idiot who'd dunk expensive tech in bathroom water.
"Brutal," Jeremy said, finally offering a small grin. "Water damage?"
"More like toilet trauma," Yuki said dryly, pulling the dead phone from his pocket and laying it on the counter.
Jeremy winced theatrically. "Man, you really did it dirty."
"Not helping," Yuki muttered.
Jeremy picked it up, turned it over in his hands, then set it aside. "Honestly? You're done. Even if I pull the board, clean, and dry, it'll probably glitch itself to death inside a week."
Airi shot Yuki a told-you-so look. "Guess it's time to upgrade, huh?"
Jeremy gestured toward the shelves. "Pick your poison. You want flagship, mid-range, or something cheap you won't cry over when you inevitably destroy it?"
Yuki shoved his hands in his hoodie, eyes scanning the rows. "Flagship," he said finally. "If I'm dropping cash, I'm doing it right."
Jeremy chuckled. "Respect."
---
They spent the next twenty minutes testing phones. Jeremy rattled off specs like second nature, pointing out processors, refresh rates, camera setups, storage tiers. Airi kept leaning in, whispering snide commentary in Yuki's ear about which phones were ugly, which felt nice in her hand, which ones she'd sext from if she cared enough.
Eventually, Yuki settled on a sleek black device, all glass and edge-to-edge display, powerful enough to handle everything he ran, fast enough to keep his streaming money rolling without a hitch.
Jeremy boxed it, rang it up, and tossed in a protective case "on the house" after Airi winked at him like maybe he still stood a chance if he played his cards right.
When Yuki slid his card and watched a small fortune vanish into the ether, he felt the pinch — but the weight in his chest eased a little. New phone. New shot. No dead money sitting at the bottom of a toilet.
---
Outside, the night felt lighter. The rain had stopped. The air smelled like wet asphalt and fried street food.
Yuki held the new phone in his palm, fingers already flying over the setup screens, re-downloading apps, logging in, transferring cloud backups.
Airi walked beside him, sneaking glances at his screen. "You look like you just got laid," she teased.
"This phone," Yuki said seriously, eyes still glued to it, "is sexier than half the people I know."
"Wow," Airi said, fake gasp, hand to her chest. "You wound me."
"You're in the other half," he said absently.
Airi's grin softened for a fraction of a second — small, private, almost fond — before the mask slipped back on. "Good," she said. "Would've hated to compete with a damn phone."
Yuki smirked. "Don't flatter yourself. You'd lose."
She elbowed him in the ribs. "Asshole."
He chuckled, slipping the phone into his pocket. "Yeah," he said quietly, looking up at the wet glow of city lights. "But at least I'm a rich one."
Yuki shoved both hands in the pocket of his hoodie, shoulders rolling back as he glanced at the glowing time on his new phone. Midnight had already slipped past, the city thinning out to night-shift workers and drunk couples stumbling toward cabs.
"It's late," he said finally, voice low, a little rougher now that the adrenaline had drained out of him. "I think I wanna head back to my hostel. Still have some work to do, though."
Airi stopped mid-step, turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing like she could see through the excuse with laser precision. A single brow arched, her lips twitching with amusement. "Yeah," she said, a dry little laugh sliding out of her. "Avoiding me again. But no problem."
Yuki huffed a soft laugh, half-smirk tugging at his lips as he looked away. He didn't even try to defend himself. That would only feed her more material.
Airi stepped closer, her voice dipping into that sultry, teasing register she wielded like a weapon. "Just make sure you call me," she said, dragging a finger lazily down the sleeve of his hoodie. "Or at least sex-cam me."