Emily has been Akari's home since the beginning. A nest of comfort in the turmoil and grunge of her reality. The work is just that...work. Emily is the same, a prostitute under the same handler, a sister with round eyes and a heart full of hope. Akari has long come to terms with the role she plays in the world, but Emily wants more. Dreaming is a form of defiance and Akari takes it as a personal slight against her when Emily expresses that she wants to try to run. From the work. From the gang. (From Akari.)
Akari shuts her down, tells her that it isn't a good idea.
That's the last meaningful conversation they have before Emily's death.
It's unnecessary violence, as if any violence is ever necessary, and it is the catapult required to throw Akari into a tailspin.
Akari has come to possess a coveted item of the gang. She isn't quite sure how to use it, but she knows that it's worth a lot of money. Cash aside, she also knows the gang needs it. They hunt her down, and she realizes that this isn't just her chance to get out, but to get even.
She needs a gun.
She also needs intel.
And money.
The laundry list goes on, but it's a start, it's a direction and she hasn't realized how long she's been living without dreaming. Emily was right. Dreaming isn't escapism. Dreaming is the only way circumstances will change.
As a prostitute in the bay area, Akari--known as Kitty to her patrons, exists in a world where she has and always will be a victim. She has never thought of herself as a victim. She has long come to terms with her situation--an illegal immigrant stuck under the thumb of a Russian gang. Her friend--Emily, was the one who knew that they deserved better. When Emily is murdered in a random act of violence--Akari comes across a situation that empowers her--and through this she learns to dream, to want. Her entire life has been spent giving, and once she learns to take, she is overcome by hunger.
She doesn't want a new collar, doesn't want to go back to that dreamless state.


