Among the runaway girls drifting through the city's red-light district, Yura stood out as particularly striking. She was always hanging around some gathering spot, full of charm and adorable when chatting with her friends, appearing youthful and innocent. Yet the moment someone approached her, her demeanor instantly changed—not with excitement, but with wariness, putting up emotional barriers. She probably hated older men. Maybe she just didn't trust adults. Still, as long as she got some pocket money, she'd follow anyone. That sense of danger was precisely the thrill of being with her. Her name was Yura. Nothing more needed to be known. Her voice and childish manner made her seem very young, but once undressed, her body revealed the soft, plump curves typical of adolescence. Her breasts were large, and she seemed indifferent when touched. That emotionally detached sex strangely excited me. I thought she might be numb to pleasure, but once I entered her, her pussy was surprisingly sensitive, and the way she shyly tried to suppress the moans that occasionally slipped out felt incredibly endearing. When her money ran out, she'd contact me again. She seemed a bit more open the second time, but honestly, I preferred her the way she was before. I dressed her in a maid outfit. The fabric was high quality, making it look authentic. She could probably pass as an idol too. Still young, her future held many possibilities. Guys like me, turned on by girls like Yura who take money for sex and loiter around the streets, are probably the most troublesome kind—but it's also true that girls like her benefit from guys like me. The day we met was the last time I ever saw her. She suddenly vanished from that district. I suppose I'll just have to find another girl.