Chapter 4: 4
The performance was well received and ended to thunderous applause.
As she left the theater, Anzu’s mind suddenly felt clear.
The stage, filled with sensuality and frenzy, felt like a dream. She didn't remember anything about what had happened there, but was still in a daze. The air outside the theater was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere inside. The streets were bustling with people, the sounds of traffic and laughter filling the air. The bright lights of the city seemed to jar her senses, pulling her out of the trance-like state she had been in during the performance. She looked down at her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. Her body ached in unfamiliar places, and she felt a strange soreness between her legs. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of her memory. The incense, the music, the dancers—it all blurred into a hazy dream.
Anzu remembered Marco’s touch, his hands sliding around her waist, his grip firm yet gentle. She remembered the heat of his body against hers, the way his breath had mingled with her own. But when she tried to recall the climax of their performance, her mind drew a blank. The choreography for the show included physical contact between men and women, so Marco touching her had felt natural and did not feel unnatural in the moment.
Eventually Anzu put on a white camisole and denim shorts and headed out into the city at night. She wanted to feel the night breeze for a bit. As she walked aimlessly, she enjoyed the neon lights of the bars and the music that filtered through them. The city was alive with a different kind of energy, pulsating with a rhythm that was both exhilarating and unsettling.
The streets were crowded with people, the air thick with the scent of street food and the distant sound of laughter. Anzu walked with a sense of detachment, her mind still foggy from the performance. She felt a strange soreness between her legs and her whole body was tender to touch. She hoped to shake off the haze that had settled over her since she left the theater. The music from the bars and clubs seemed to seep into her thoughts, a constant reminder of the raw, unbridled passion that had consumed her on stage.
She needed a moment to clear her mind. The cool night air did little to quell the heat that still simmered within her. It was a strange feeling, the afterglow of the performance mingling with a sense of unease, a foggy haze that made it hard to separate fantasy from reality.
As Anzu walked back toward the hotel, she felt a sudden pang of hunger. She stopped at a street stall and bought some snacks. The Italian-style steamed meat buns were a delightful surprise, and she was glad she bought them (although she couldn't speak Italian). The aroma of the meat buns filled her senses, grounding her in the present moment. She returned to the hotel, the buns still warm in her hands, and as she climbed the stairs to her room, she found herself in a daze.
While Anzu was taking a bath, she suddenly remembered that someone had touched her crotch somewhere, but she went to bed without being sure if that had really happened. She lay back in the warm, soapy water, her thoughts a jumble of images and sensations. The performance, the music, the incense—it all blurred into a haze, but one moment remained vividly clear: Marco's hands, his touch, the heat of his body against hers.
Anzu closed her eyes, trying to piece together the fragments of her memory. She remembered the feel of his fingers, the way they had teased at the edge of her costume, the sensation of him inside her. She remembered the music, the rhythm that had coursed through her veins, the audience's roars and cheers fading into a distant hum. But the more she tried to recall the details, the more they slipped away, leaving her with a sense of confusion and unease.
For the next two days, Anzu toured the Republic of Erosia before returning home.
She visited the Basilica of Saint Martin and the ancient ruins of the Erosian Empire, but as she returned to Tokyo, she could hardly recall the places she visited. Even after returning home, the events in Erosia seemed like a dream, and Anzu only remembered the two tourist spots she visited, the restaurants she ate at, and the people she met in the two days before returning home. Anzu took a week off to get in shape, then returned to her dance lessons.
Anzu's apartment was tiny, cluttered with ballet shoes, dance costumes, and worn-out mirrors, and there was no room for a bed. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, and a single, dim desk lamp cast long shadows across the room. The walls were adorned with posters of Broadway shows and dance performances, a testament to Anzu's passion and dedication.
Anzu thought that once her career as a dancer got on track, she would move to a better apartment.
She thought that a life of a serious dancer was like this, but that was okay. The performances continued for a while, and Anzu spent her busy days devoted to shows and lessons. The days passed without her noticing anything particularly different, but a change was occurring inside her body.
Anzu's belly was quietly expanding, but it went unnoticed because her abdominal muscles were firm from her intense dance practice. When she felt discomfort or fatigue, she blamed it on her intense dance schedule. The intense movements of dance sometimes caused irregular periods, and she didn't pay much attention to the early pregnancy symptoms, thinking they were just "tiredness from lessons" or "tiredness from performances." So Anzu went about her life as usual. She would go through each day feeling a little tired, but to her, it was normal.
It had been exactly five months since she returned from Erosia, and after finishing her dance lesson, Anzu noticed that the stage costume she was wearing—a tight sleeveless t-shirt—was a little tight. When she looked in the mirror in the changing room, she noticed that her stomach was unnaturally bulging. It was odd that she hadn't noticed this before, but the dance costumes that she wore were always tight, so she usually paid no attention to her body. She put her hand on the protruding part and stared at it.
Her eyes widened as she stared in the mirror, her mind racing with disbelief. She looked around as if to confirm she was alone, her breath catching in her throat. Her hand trembled slightly as she parted the elastic of her shorts and wiggled her panties down with her left hand. The bulge was not flat but rather round, as if a small object were protruding.
She was skeptical and went to see an obstetrician-gynecologist, but was diagnosed with being five months pregnant. Anzu was not in a relationship with a man, and had no idea why she might become pregnant.
Anzu stared at the doctor, her mind racing as she tried to process the words that had just been spoken. The room was quiet, the hum of the fluorescent lights above the only sound as she sat there in stunned silence. The doctor’s kind eyes held a mixture of sympathy and professionalism, but all Anzu could see was her own reflection in the small mirror at the back of the doctor's office. Her cheeks flushed pink as she quickly gathered her thoughts, her initial shock slowly giving way to a whirlwind of questions and confusion.
The walk home from the hospital was a blur. Dusk was approaching, and the city streets passed by in a haze of neon lights and distant chatter. The doctor's words echoed in her head. "Five months," she whispered to herself, barely audible. "No, no, no, no, no," she whispered, almost unconsciously. "This can't be happening." She had been in relationships before, but never sexually. She wondered if it was possible that five months ago he had somehow forced her to have sex - by which she meant rape. The doctor asked her if she had had sex, but she just couldn't remember.
Everything was just too vague for her. Anzu tried to remember what had happened five months ago, but all she could remember was that she had appeared in a dance show in the Republic of Erosia. Moreover, the details of the show were unclear, and she only had a vague memory of someone touching her body while she was dancing on stage. Since traditional dance in the Republic of Erosia makes heavy use of body contact, it was not unnatural for her to be touched. She remembered the feel of hands on her waist, the warmth of a body pressed against hers, the electric jolt of someone's fingers slipping under the hem of her costume, sending shivers down her spine.
The images flashed through her mind, faded and distorted. Her head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton wool, her thoughts sluggish and slow. The incense, the music, the audience's roars and cheers—it was all just a jumble of sensations.
The erotic acts, the touch of strangers, the ecstasy, and the confusion—there's no way she could ever be that stupid, and that's what she'd wanted to believe. The performance now seemed like a terrible dream. Anzu was deeply confused and flustered. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together the fragments of her memory, and tried to avoid thinking about it as much as possible.
She casually opened her laptop and found an email. The sender was unknown and it simply said, "Congratulations on your pregnancy. Please check the contract again." She immediately looked for the contract she had signed before participating in the performance. The contract was written in English and there didn't seem to be any particular problem with the wording, but her heart was pounding and her fingers were shaking slightly as she scanned the small letters.
The doctor's words and the email she received left Anzu confused. The next day, Anzu met a high school classmate, a woman named Tokiwa Azusa, who was now studying law at university, to show her the contract she had signed to appear in a show in the Republic of Erosia.
Still in a daze, Anzu entered Azusa's apartment. The small room was piled high with textbooks and legal documents, a stark contrast to Anzu's cluttered but artistic space. Dressed in a simple black T-shirt and jeans, Azusa's hair was messy and her glasses rested on her nose, as she scanned the contract with a critical eye.
"According to the contract, the contents are written in vague terms, but clearly restrict the performer's actions while avoiding the organizer's responsibility for 'pregnancy as a result of participating in the show.'" Her voice was firm, her eyes narrowing as she highlighted key paragraphs with a yellow marker. "In particular, if you read Article 8 and the 'Provisions Regarding Physical Effects' at the end carefully, you will understand." She looked up, her expression serious. "Article 8 - Medical Response and Responsibility. It states that performers agree to take medical measures at their own risk regarding physical changes that occur as a result of the show. Performers cannot object to the commercial exploitation of physical effects that occur as a result of the show."
Her voice is heavy with foreboding.
"When it comes to Article 8—Medical Response and Responsibility—it's a beast. It basically says that you, as the performer, are responsible for handling any medical consequences that come from participating in the show. If you end up pregnant, as it seems you have, you’re on your own. And if they decide to exploit that pregnancy for whatever they want, be it movies, shows, or ads, you can't say boo. Worth noting is the section on physical effects, which states that you have to accept any and all changes that might occur in your body—regardless of whether you like it or not. It goes on to say you can't complain to the organizers or any other related bodies, and it’s clear that they’re not responsible for the situation you’re in. On top of it, it stresses that you can't take any medical action to reverse or terminate the effects.
I’m sorry, Anzu, but if your pregnancy is considered a physical effect of the show, you have to carry it out. But since you have now been diagnosed with a pregnancy, there is no way you can get an abortion or a hysterectomy. You're likely going to have to carry the baby to term. It also explicitly states that if you do anything to end the pregnancy—including getting an abortion or undergoing a hysterectomy—I’m afraid the organizers have the right to take legal action against you. In addition, you can't seek any medical treatment that would interfere with the progression of the pregnancy. You can only seek health management and support that doesn't interrupt the progression of your pregnancy."
Anzu's face paled as she listened to the explanation. The weight of the contract's implications pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. Her eyes scanned the document, the words blurring into a nightmare of legal jargon and cold, unforgiving stipulations.
"I remember the show, but I have a hazy memory of what specifically happened on stage," Anzu said, her voice barely above a whisper. Azusa leaned back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. "Was there anything strange about the stage directions? Anything that seemed out of the ordinary or that made you uncomfortable?"
Anzu sighed. Her mind drifted back to the Republic of Erosia, to the swirling incense and pulsating music that robbed her of her senses. "The music was intense, and the choreography more sensual than anything I'd ever done. But it all felt so... kaleidoscopic. I remember the audience, their energy, their cheers. I remember the feel of the other dancers, their hands guiding me, lifting me, spinning me. And the costumes..." she paused, blushing a little. "The costumes were revealing, but not uncommon for this kind of performance. And then there was the heat, how it penetrated my skin and made me feel alive, and then there was the incense. I remember the incense." It was thick, almost oppressive. Anzu remembered that the incense was made from wild herbs and was used in ancient Erosian festivals, and had a relaxing effect. Anne continued, "This is made from wild herbs and was used in the festivals of the ancient Eros people. It is said to have a relaxing effect. At the time, it was used by festival participants to achieve a euphoric feeling, but I've heard that the incense we use in our shows is adjusted to contain only small amounts of this ingredient, so it is harmless."
"That's it," Azusa said, her voice sharp with realization. "I've heard of that incense. It's not just a relaxation tool, Anzu. In its traditional form, it's hallucinogenic. It was used in ancient festivals to induce a state of heightened pleasure and orgiastic frenzy."
Azusa began by saying, "My boyfriend is a cultural anthropology major, and he told me that in ancient rituals, certain drugs were used to put the shaman into a trance and to help participants feel one with the others." She explained that the "eros incense" she heard about was known to be stronger than in other countries and was traded in ancient times. She continued, "This incense, also called kyphi, is a blend of herbs and spices known for its hallucinogenic and euphoric properties, such as myrrh, cinnamon, and frankincense. In its traditional form, the ancient Eros people used this incense to enhance pleasure and induce a state of spiritual ecstasy."
Azusa raised her eyes to meet Anzu's gaze, her expression grave. "It's highly likely that the incense put you into a kind of trance state, and that you responded to sex semi-unconsciously." Anzu, still grappling with the implications, responded, "I heard that the amounts of these ingredients are adjusted to be small, so they're harmless." But Azusa shook her head, her voice firm. "I doubt that's true. It's possible that they explained it that way, but in reality, they were burning incense with strong ingredients. I suspect that the organizers were counting on the incense to give the show that extra edge. With the heightened sensuality, the euphoria, and the loss of inhibition, it would make the performance feel even more authentic."
Anzu's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as she began to understand the gravity of the situation.
"That means..." she began, her voice trailing off as the horrifying realization dawned on her. Azusa sympatised with Anzu and told her, "You've been deceived. You were made to agree to sexual acts under a deliberately vague contract, and then, while in a daze, were made to have sex with your male dancer partner as part of the show's production, and became pregnant."
Anzu's mind reeled as she tried to process the implications of what Azusa had just revealed. Her hands trembled as she clutched the contract, the weight of the document feeling like a physical burden. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, and she had to steady herself against the desk to keep from falling. "But... but I didn't even know what I was agreeing to," she stammered, her voice barely audible. "I never would have consented to this if I had known."
Anzu's voice was barely audible, her mind still a mess from the shock.
Azusa nodded sympathetically, but with a firm expression. "Anzu, you've been deceived. The Republic of Erosia has a complicated history. Traditionally, it was a male-dominated country, and women were considered virtuous to be subordinate to men. However, in Erosia's unique culture, women, while subordinate to men, have a certain degree of self-determination. In Erosia, where sexual taboos are almost nonexistent, "sexual performances" were advanced from early on, but after World War II, especially around the end of the 20th century, entertainment became more diverse, and people began to seek more excitement. As a result, the idea of tricking women into appearing in sex shows and getting pregnant was born, and since this method does not work on women in their own country, they deliberately target foreign women. The entertainment industry, which is integrated with tourism, has a strong influence in the country, and the government also uses it to earn foreign currency, so the sexual exploitation of foreign women is practically legalized at the national level. "
As Azusa outlined the sinister reality of Erosia's entertainment industry, Anzu's mind was a mess. The room seemed to tilt, and she grabbed the edge of the desk to support herself. Her knuckles turned white. "But... but that's... illegal," she whispered, her voice trembling in disbelief. "I can't believe they would do this. How did they get away with it?"