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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 days

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Guilty as Sin? — Chapter 6

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, jealousy, brief glimpse of drunk Javi, phone sex but not really, oral (fem!rec), protected piv, dirty talk, little bit of angst thrown in at the beginning, sort of rough!javi? but nothing too crazy

word count: 4.8k

series masterlist

A month went by, summer fading into early fall and bringing a slight chill to the air with it. Things between you and Javier were only slightly awkward, and only when you were alone together. In class, he treated you like a prized pupil but nothing more. In your TA lab, he spoke to you like a colleague. But to say either of you seemed content with the emotional and physical distance after the night you shared together would be a lie.

You thought of him incessantly, his lips often becoming the focus of your mid-lecture daydreams. You liked to imagine that he stole glances at you too when you weren’t looking, but his gaze never seemed to linger long. He remained respectful, but there was no denying the lingering tension between the two of you.

Even so, there was nothing that could be done for the secret longing you felt every time he walked into a room. You’d come to peace with that fact. Mostly.

It was hard not to think of him as you got ready for a date that was set up by your new friend, the one you’d taken to sitting by in Javier’s lectures, Mayte. She’d been so eager to pull you out of the funk your “situationship” left you in, though you managed to leave out just who that situationship was in. The guy—Kade—she set you up with was a friend of her older brother, who she assured you had good taste in friends. That had yet to be seen.

He’d invited you to the UT vs Texas A&M football game—not your usual scene but a fun chance to get out of the house. You wore a simple pair of jeans and a new sweater you’d recently bought to help boost your confidence. Casual, but put together at the very least.

You insisted on arriving separately, wanting a quick escape plan if shit went sour—which it usually did. Meeting him in front of the ticket office of the stadium, you were surprised to find out he was handsome. Tall, with dark brown skin, and even darker eyes. He looked to be in shape underneath his long-sleeved University of Texas t-shirt and joggers. Perhaps maybe too in shape.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile, pulling you in for an awkward side hug.

“Hey,” you replied, nervously fidgeting as he led you up to the security check in.

“You’re prettier than the pictures Mayte showed me,” he offered, glancing at you from over his shoulder as he waited for the guard to scan the tickets on his phone. You gave him a forced chuckle. After all, you weren’t sure if that was supposed to be a compliment.

After making it through security, he led you over to the concessions counter and the long line in front of it.

“You’re tall,” you observed, hating the way charm seemed to evade you when speaking to men. Except for Javier, that is.

“Yep,” he chuckled. “So…do you come to games a lot?”

“No,” you playfully scoffed. “Football isn’t really my thing.”

“Oh,” he muttered, turning to face the menu.

A damn near intolerable silence fell over the two of you for a while, both of you quietly shuffling ahead each time someone moved out of the line. When it was time to order and the cashier asked if it would be together or separate, things got even more awkward as you replied in unison.

“Together, please.”

“Separate’s fine.”

The conflicting responses had the cashier raising an eyebrow.

“I’m actually fine, so…go ahead,” you said, gesturing for him to order. He gave you a look of irritation before sighing and walking off without explanation.

You looked at the cashier for help processing what just happened, but she looked just as confused as she shrugged as asked, “First date?”

“Last date, too,” you chuckled, choosing to find the humor in the situation rather than letting it chip away at you.

You found the exit of the stadium, shaking your head as you swung the glass door open only to hit—

“Javi,” you breathed. There he was in all his casual glory. A simple t-shirt and jeans that threatened to make you fall to your knees.

“Hey,” he managed, his voice breathy as he took you in. For the first time in the last month, you actually felt something from him. Longing, perhaps. Regret, more realistically. You were about to comment on his presence at such a big event, Javier not exactly seeming like the type to show up to a college football game, but were cut off by an appearance on his left.

There, slipping her hand around his arm, was a bright eyed blonde that looked to be in her early thirties.

“Excuse us,” she said, pushing past you and dragging Javier along with her. You watched with a look of horror as he gave you a lingering glance from over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

You felt sick—not the kind of sick that makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry. No, actually and truly sick. You forced your feet to carry you out of this godforsaken stadium, the fresh air helping to settle your stomach a bit as vomit threatened to creep its way up your throat. Funny how your heart had such control over your body, taking its frustrations out on your poor stomach. You mentally blacked out between the stadium entrance and arriving at your car, only remembering the fit you threw once you were safely in the confines of it.

Sure, one could argue that you, yourself, had just been on a date with a very handsome man, and that Javier had every right to date around as well. But that would be a logical way to deal with these feelings of betrayal, and when it came to Javier, logic never won.

You attempted to drown out thoughts of how Javier’s date was progressing as the evening faded into night, busying your mind with studying for the bar exam. You stayed up late, sleep evading you no matter how tired your eyes grew. It seemed every time you closed your eyes you saw his face, that look of helplessness in his eyes.

You wanted to smooth the worry lines on his forehead away with soft kisses, wanted to shove that pretty blonde off of him and claim him as yours. Jealousy, it seemed, had turned you primal.

As you settled into bed, this time vowing you’d actually manage to go to sleep, your phone started to buzz on your nightstand. You scowled at the bright light, reaching over and accepting the call without thinking.

“Hello?” you demanded.

“Hey.” Javier’s voice both soothed and wounded you at the same time. “Shit. I didn’t—I thought I’d get your voicemail.”

“Javi?” you asked, as if you couldn’t pick his voice out in a crowd of a thousand. “What—it’s like…shit. It’s three in the fucking morning. Why are you calling me?”

“I know,” he sighed, his words slurred. “I just…couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You scoffed, rolling onto your back to stare at the ceiling. “Figured your date would’ve kept you distracted.”

“There’s that jealousy I love so much,” he crooned, and you could practically see him smirking. “She was a mistake. I just…I don’t fucking know. Needed to try to get you out of my system.”

“And did it work?” you asked, your tone still clipped. “Did fucking her make you forget about me for a while?”

“I didn’t fuck her,” he promised. “Didn’t even make it through the game. Well, actually that’s not true. I caught the end of it at a bar, then proceeded to get piss drunk because I couldn’t stop thinking about this girl you might know. Clever, brilliant, has the prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen—“

Definitely still piss drunk, then.

“Javi,” you groaned, covering your face with your palm. “You’re being…cruel.”

“No, I’m not,” he argued. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Having to see you day in and day out, not getting to talk to you, not trusting myself alone with you. Now that’s fucking cruel.”

“So what?” you snapped. “You called me up just to tell me how much you want me but can’t have me?”

“I called you up to tell you I don’t give a fuck if I can’t have you,” he said, his voice so deep and warm it made your thighs squeeze together. “I fucking need you, cariño.”

“Yeah?” you asked, hating—and loving—the ease in which he coaxed you back into this mess of a situation. You bit your lip as you slipped your free hand down your stomach to the waistband on your bottoms. “Tell me how bad you need me, Javi.”

He groaned into the line, the sound of his zipper coming undone urging you to slip your hand further into your bottoms, your fingers finding you soaked with need.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Need you so bad. That pretty pussy, the taste of you on my tongue.”

You let out a soft moan at the memory of Javier between your thighs, the scent of him on his bedsheets surrounding you. “Next time, I’m gonna give you my dick. See just how much of it you can take. How’s that sound? Bet you’ll take it all, won’t you, baby?”

“Shit, Javi,” you whined, swirling your fingers around your swollen bud. “Your voice…”

“Yeah? You like touching yourself listening to my voice, cariño?” he husked, a teasing lilt to his voice that made you throb with arousal. “

“Mmhm,” you moaned, slipping two fingers inside of yourself.

“Good,” he said. “I’m fucking my hand to the sound of yours, too.”

“Let me come over,” you begged. Your hand didn’t feel good enough, not like his did. “Please?”

“It’s late,” he cautioned.

“I don’t care.” It was Friday night, after all. There was an entire weekend ahead of you to catch up on sleep.

“I’m too drunk,” he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself rather than you. “Tomorrow night.”

You deflated a bit, slipping your hand out of your bottoms.

“Doesn’t feel good when you’re not here,” you admitted with a pout. “You not only ruined me for all men but also for myself, apparently.”

Javier laughed, the sound bringing a smile to your face. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you whispered, bashful and girlish. The exact kind of tone you used to tease your friends for using with their significant other. Funny how the tables have turned.

“What were you doing at the game earlier?” he asked, thankfully picking up on the fact that your body had no interest in feeling good unless it was with him. “Didn’t take you for a football fan.”

“I’m not,” you chuckled. “Just had a…date. If you could call it that.”

“A date, huh?” You grinned at the way his tone seemed to shift. “And how did that go?”

“He told me I looked prettier than I did in my pictures, asked for a separate bill at the concession stand, and then walked off when I told him I didn’t want anything,” you explained. “Pretty tame compared to some of my dating horror stories. Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever been on a good date in my life. Not even with my ex.”

“How about we fix that tomorrow?” he said, his voice a casual drawl. You bit your lip to try and tame your smile.

A date with Javier. Not a hookup, not a one-time thing to relieve some tension. A date.

“I’d like that,” you said. “Where you gonna take me?”

“That’s a good question,” he chuckled. “Anything I should steer clear of?”

You weren’t sure you’d ever been asked that before a date. Typically, if they even bothered to make a plan, it was just going out for food at a restaurant they loved, going to see a game that you had no interest in, or worse, a male-led action film.

“I’d probably steer clear of places where men congregate in crowds,” you chuckled. “And places that are loud. Besides that, I’m pretty flexible.”

“I hope to find out just how flexible you are, cariño,” he crooned. before chuckling at himself. Drunk Javier certainly was a lot more generous with his flirtation, and you made a mental note to get him drunk again sometime just to hear that filthy mouth run freely. “No men in flocks and no loud rooms, I can work with that.”

After setting a loose plan for tomorrow night—Javier picking you up at six and whisking you off to a surprise location you still had yet to figure out—you ended the call with a shit-eating grin on your face. Sleep evaded you again for an entirely new reason.

Excitement.

Javier arrived at your place with five minutes to spare, his melodic knocks causing you to jolt as you reapplied your favorite lip balm—if tonight went the way you hoped it would, lipstick would only cause a mess. You hurried to the door, swinging it open with a grin.

“Hey,” he breathed, a boyish smile creeping up on his face as took you in from head to toe.

You still had no idea what he had planned, but he gave you a few things to work off of: casual clothes, a hoodie in case it got cold, and an overnight bag.

Your eyes fell to the bouquet of red carnations in his left hand, your brow raising at the gesture you’d only ever seen in movies. “Never had someone give me flowers before.”

“God, I hate your exes,” he sighed, shaking his head as he held the flowers out for you to take. “First of many, I hope.”

Your mouth twisted as your grin bordered the line of full on goofy. You lifted the bouquet up to your nose, breathing in the fresh scent. “This is very sweet of you, Dr. Peña.”

“Oh?” he chuckled. “Back to Dr. Peña now, huh?”

“Mmhm,” you smirked. “Maybe if you impress me tonight I’ll call you professor.”

“Jesus,” he groaned, invading your space. He settled one hand on your hip, the other cupping your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you like a starved man. You grinned into the kiss, pushing at his chest to coax him away.

“Bold for a first date,” you noted, relishing in the dimpled, lust drunk smile he gave you.

“You’re right,” he said, stepping back only to have you pull him in tighter, your lips finding his again. Javier hummed softly into the kiss, his thumb stroking over your cheek. He gave you one last peck, something so soft and tender that there was no confusing it for anything but sheer affection. “We should get on the road, though.”

“The road?” you asked, your brow raised. “You whisking me off somewhere?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, tugging you tighter to his chest. “Figured we could take a little trip to the lake. Wouldn’t have to worry about anybody seeing us.”

You weren’t sure why all the sneaking around was so thrilling to you. Surely, it would grow old eventually, but today certainly wasn’t that day. “In that case, I should probably bring my laptop.”

“I’ll just give you an A,” he said, stopping you from walking back into your apartment by giving you another dizzying kiss.

“You’re not my only professor,” you reminded him with a smirk, relishing in the near-possessive squeeze he gave your hips before letting you go. He waited in the doorway, watching you dart around your tiny space collecting the last of what needed to be packed. “You’re allowed to come inside, you know?”

Javier chuckled, “Good to know.”

“Not like that,” you snorted. “Although…”

“See, that’s exactly why I can’t come in,” he said. “I might just say to hell with our reservation and hole up in here with you all weekend.”

“The walls here are too thin for that,” you joked, stuffing your laptop and notebook into your bag. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, Javier finally came inside to help you with your overnight bag.

“Come on,” he coaxed, nudging his head toward the door. “Thicker walls await.”

The ride from Austin to the small lakeside town of Horseshoe Bay was a little over an hour, that time spent in conversation with the university’s most unsocial professor. But he wasn’t that crabby, brooding professor with you. No, Javier was an entirely different man. You’d begun to piece together a more concrete idea of the man you’d become fascinated with almost instantaneously, rounding out his sharp edges with bits of his past.

He’d told you about his family, or at least what remained of it. He was an only child, his father a rancher in Laredo that he only sees on holidays due to the distance between them. His mother had passed years ago, you learned, right after Javier had graduated from high school.

You listened intently as he fed you bits of his childhood, painting the scene in bright yellows and an achingly palpable nostalgia. He claimed he was a quiet child, not fully coming into his own until college.

At this you felt a tug of familiarity. You’d never been popular, not until college rolled around and offered you a fresh start.

In exchange for his past, you told him about your own—your parents, the world you came from, the sort of girl you were as a child and how she never really left you, even now. He rested his hand on your knee as he listened to you, glancing at you every now and again with that look of sheer interest that made it difficult to remember what you’d been saying.

It was all so deliciously vulnerable and intimate, the giving of one’s past to a soul who never had the chance to experience it with you. Javier didn’t seem the type to open up unless he felt it absolutely necessary, which only added to the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. He felt you were necessary, that you were deserving of receiving him in the past, present, and if you’d be so bold to guess, future.

By the time you arrived at the hotel he’d booked, it was half past seven. The stars had come out, stealing the spotlight away from the red autumn sunset over the resort. You stood beside him as he checked the two of you into your suite, your stomach flipping with anticipation over what was to come.

This was no one-night stand or temporary fix to the issue at hand. No, this trip marked the first time you’d sleep in his bed, the first time you’d share dinner with him, the first time you’d get to feel him, the first time that you’d get an unfiltered glimpse at the man you’d fallen for without ever truly knowing. A small part of you trembled because of that fact, that this entire fantasy could come crumbling down overnight, but despite all of your concerns, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to truly consider the possibility.

Truthfully, if he hadn’t irked you yet—a woman who’s admittedly very easily irked by men—then it wasn’t likely he’d begin to now. Beyond that logic, there was a different part of your psyche—the part that believed in true love despite the scars earned in attempt to attain it—that felt safe in his hands. Perhaps it was the way he’d handled the situation with Derrick, or maybe it was the amount of willpower he displayed the night he asked you to come over. Either way, Javier had firmly established himself as a good man in your eyes.

A good man that was capable of conjuring the filthiest of fantasies inside your head.

The tension between you only seemed to tighten as you made your way up to the suite. You walked behind him, admiring the broadness of his shoulders that tapered into a slim waist, his strong hands carrying an overnight bag in each. You had half a mind to shove those bags to the floor so that his hands could hold you instead, but managed to find the patience necessary to make it into the room.

“The key’s in my front pocket,” he said, turning to face you as you reached your suite. You licked your bottom lip as you reached out to slip the card from his pocket before deciding on something a bit more sinful. Sliding your hand across denim, you bypassed his pocket in favor of palming him through his jeans. Javier raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes falling to your hand as you gave him a squeeze. “That’s not my pocket.”

“Oh, is it not?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I must’ve gotten lost.”

Javier hissed as you stroked him through his jeans, his now hard length straining against the confines of the rigid denim. “If you don’t hurry up and—“

You slid your hand away, slipping the keycard out of his pocket with a smirk. “So impatient.”

“I’m the impatient one?” he asked through a chuckle, opening the door of the suite and guiding you inside. “I’m not the one who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

You stood in front of the massive king-sized mattress you’d be sharing with your professor. Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but imagine the things that might occur later on between you in those crisp white sheets. Javier seemed to follow your train of thought as he came to stand behind you, his fingertips trailing down your arm until he was weaving your hands together. You pressed back into him, exposing more of your neck. Javier leaned in, his lips soft and warm against your pulse as he pressed a featherlight kiss there.

“I made dinner reservations,” he mumbled, tracing the line of your jaw with the bridge of his aquiline nose. You let out a soft gasp as he nipped at your jaw while bringing your entwined hands between your bodies. He guided your hand to the bulge in his jeans and pressed himself closer, a sinful sigh slipping from his lips. “We should get going.”

He made no move to do such a thing, instead choosing to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. You moaned into it, cupping his face with both hands as he gently laid you on the mattress. He stood up straight and watched you with a drunk look in his eyes as he peeled off his sweater, throwing it across the room. “Had to change anyways.”

You followed his lead, stripping off your top layer in a scramble before moving to do the same with the skirt and tights you’d worn with the hope of taunting him, but he stopped you. Instead, he unbuckled his belt and set it beside you on the bed with a sinful gleam in his eyes.

“Skirt on?” you asked, giving him a smirk. Javier popped the button of his jeans undone and unzipped himself, shucking his jeans down just enough to free himself.

“Mmhm,” he hummed, stroking himself a couple times before lowering to his knees and tugging you to the edge.

“And the tights?”

He smirked as he pressed a kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Depends on how much you care about those tights.”

“Not at all,” you purred, combing your fingers through his hair. Javier gave your flesh a tender bite--a signature of his, you were learning. Spreading your thighs wider to accommodate his broad shoulders, Javier ripped the tights in half where your thighs met to expose you to him.

You’d forgone underwear for this specific reaction--Javi’s dark eyes flaring with desire, that skilled tongue of his swiping across his bottom lip, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs so hard you hoped it would leave a mark.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, wasting no time as he leaned in and tasted you like it was the first time. Just like before, your mind was sent reeling, trying to comprehend how something--or someone--could possibly make you feel this good. He tasted you with unabashed eagerness, clearly using his free hand to stroke himself as he drank you down. “You wanna come like this, baby? Or do you want my cock?”

You moaned at the question, feeling yourself empty and fluttering around nothing.

“I want your cock,” you managed, albeit a bit more bashful than his delivery.

Javier placed a far too sweet kiss on your swollen bud before standing again, the sight of him and his dominance and his tenderness all driving you mad in different ways. You wanted this man, wanted to have him and keep him all to yourself, wanted to know him and be known by him in a way that no one else ever had. If this was to be your end, those strong hands and kind eyes, then at least it would be a happy one.

He stroked himself with one hand while he walked over to his bag and located a condom. Tearing the foil open with his teeth—a sight you’d never imagined could be so fucking arousing—he returned to you, rolling the condom down his length.

“You’re so…beautiful, Javi,” you breathed, watching him as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused there, bending forward to kiss you with such tenderness, such affection that you nearly forgot where you were and what you were doing. He took those few seconds of dazed bliss to press into you, just enough to acclimate you to his size. He swallowed down your gasp, giving you another inch before stilling again.

When he was finally fully seated inside your warmth, you let your head fall back against the mattress, a choked moan filling the room as he ground himself deep, his lips finding your pebbled nipples. “Fuck, Javi.”

“Is it good, cariño?” he asked, his voice taking on a rougher edge.

It wasn’t just good, it was…perfect. The way he felt, the feelings he stirred within you, the look in his eyes when he lifted his head from your chest to watch your eyes roll as he withdrew himself only to press back in. Absolutely, devastatingly perfect.

“So good,” you moaned instead, holding his face in your hands as he picked up his pace, his hips snapping into yours.

“Shit,” he hissed, dropping his head to watch himself disappear inside of you.

You balled up your skirt to sit around your waist, determined to let him get the perfect view as your eyes squeezed shut, the sparks of pleasure from each thrust making it hard to see straight.

“Feelssofuckinggood, baby,” he slurred in a moan, sounding almost as drunk as he did on the phone the night before. “Such a perfect fucking pussy.”

You keened at his praise, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. Javier groaned, pinning your knees toward your chest as he stood upright and began to fuck you without inhibition. All you could do was cry his name and lose yourself in the clouds of euphoria as his hips snapped into yours hard enough to carve his name into them.

“Fuck,” he hissed, hugging your thighs to his chest and guiding your ankles to rest on his shoulder. “You’re gonna make me come, baby. That what you want? Hm?”

“Fuck, yes,” you whined, feeling the knot in your belly tighten at his voice.

“You gotta come first,” he panted, licking his thumb before bringing it down to your swollen and throbbing bud. Your walls clamped down on him, earning a growl as he picked up his pace. “C’mon, baby. C’mon.”

“Javi, shit—“ Your vision went white before you could even get the words out, your walls fluttering around his cock as you came harder than you ever had before. Javier let out a strangled moan, leaning down to kiss your lips as he sought his own release. “Good fucking girl.”

You clung to him for dear life, fearing that if you let go, you’d float off into oblivion and never return. Javier hissed, soft moans filling the room along with the sharp slap of skin as he pumped himself into you once, twice, three times before pressing himself as deep as he could go. He laid his head on your chest as he came, whispering filth in Spanish that had you ready for another round.

“Fuck,” you sighed, content and satiated for now. A laugh slipped past your lips before you could contain it, causing Javier to lift his head off your chest, a lazy, and yet almost smug, smile on his face.

“What?” he chuckled.

“We’re fucked,” you said, laughing again, this time joined by Javier.

“Completely and utterly fucked,” he agreed.

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gglitch1dd · 20 hours

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Us & You Pt 3

DILF Kirishima Eijiro x Teacher Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can’t help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: Prolife vs Prochoice, friends to enemies to strangers. Katsuki is TRANS!!! (AFAB)

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father’s role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It’s very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn’t find another character to be Sachiko’s mom and you’ll see why).

[PART 1] [AO3 Link] [PART 2]

Bakugou Katsuki tapped his hand anxiously against the counter. This was all a lie. It was a joke. He was just sick with a stomach bug and there was nothing more to it. There had to be nothing more to that. He looked down at the counter of his bathroom in his apartment. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. It was all a lie. None of this would be true.

He heard the beep and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his life wouldn’t end, everything would be okay and there would be no reason to worry.

Crimson eyes opened to look down at three pregnancy test sticks. Every single one of them were positive.

Katsuki wanted to kill himself.

One night. That’s all it was. One night with his good-looking best friend and it resulted into this. He couldn’t know how in the hell was this possible. He wasn’t supposed to ovulate or for any fertilised egg to be able to implant itself onto his lining. One drunken night where he had had one too many drinks, stumbled into Eijiro’s side of their shared apartment and ended up having the best fuck of his life and here he was.

Pregnant.

“Katsuki!” Speak of the devil. Katsuki whipped his head to look at the door of the bathroom. He quickly moved to grab the three sticks. The last thing he needed was Kirishima Eijiro finding out about this. The last thing he needed was Eijiro here, right now, knocking on the door of their shared bathroom while he was about to have a panic attack. “Katsuki, I need to take a leak, are you finished in there?” Eijiro asked.

“Hold your shit, Eijiro, I’m coming out now!” Damn did he sound bitchy. A bit more than usual, but then again, he was always in a sour mood, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise. However, the issue was how well Eijiro knew Katsuki. He knew Katsuki well enough to know any hitch in his voice consequent for something wrong.

“Are you okay?” He heard the giant redhead ask.

Katsuki was pacing. He didn’t know where to put these. As a last-ditch effort, he threw them into the hamper. Eijiro would never check there because Eijiro didn’t do laundry except once in a blue moon and the laundry basket wasn’t full. Katsuki quickly covered them up, shoving them deep into the hamper before straightening up his appearance and opening the door.

Eijiro stood there shirtless, like always, sweatpants hanging low enough to see his thick black happy trial and deeply cut sex lines. He looked to Katsuki with a raised eyebrow. He had a towel around his neck as he looked to the blond with a tilt of his head. “You okay, Kats?”

Katsuki hesitated. No, he wasn’t. “Of course, I am.” He shrugged off the redhead, as he brushed past him. “I gotta go to my lecture. I’ll see you later.” He pushed his hands deep inside his pockets as he moved to the kitchen. Katsuki waited for the door to close before his shoulders dropped in relief. This was something he shouldn’t be thinking about or entertaining. He just needs to get through his class and come home and then he could think of a plan. Actually, there was only going to be one plan. And that’s-

Just as Katsuki fished out his house keys, the door in the hallway opened. He prayed Eijiro wasn’t looking for him as he moved towards the door. He just had to make it to the door. Why on earth did this apartment hallway seem so long.

“Hey Kats…”

Katsuki kept going, moving to grab the apartment door. “Yah.”

“Why are there pregnancy test boxes in the trashcan?”

He forgot the boxes…

For a hot minute, there was silence. Katsuki thought of every and any sort of lame excuse to give, but Eijiro wasn’t stupid. He was dumb but he wasn’t stupid. Katsuki swallowed down hard as his expression went hard as he turned around to face Eijiro. The two best friends faced each other in their mediocre apartment that they paid rent in and lived together. It was an odd thing really.

Eijiro held one of the boxes in his hand. Katsuki glanced at it, deciding to focus on it. “It was for Mina. She wanted me to get her some.”

Eijiro furrowed his eyebrows. “Mina went to go visit her mother; she isn’t in the city.” Katsuki closed his eyes almost in physical pain. He internally cursed, forgetting about that. Eijiro’s grip on the rectangular box went harsh. He swallowed down hard trying not to think about the worse case scenario. “Katsuki.” He stepped forward. “Are… were they for you?” He asked. Katsuki didn’t say anything. He kept his mouth shut. When all else failed, just say nothing. Eijiro hesitated. “Were… were they positive?” Katsuki didn’t say anything again. “Katsuki.”

“I’m going to be late for my lecture.”

Eijiro took a step forward. His eyebrows furrowed. “Katsuki, if you’re pregnant, we have to talk about this.” He urged.

Katsuki turned to look at his best friend, a scowl on his face. “We don’t have to talk about anything, Eijiro. There won’t be anything to talk about. I’ll get an abortion and it will be like this never happened.” He stated simply. Eijiro froze at his words, being too shocked as Katsuki left just like that, slamming the door behind him.

"Katsuki, please." Eijiro begged, trying to stop the blond as he walked to the door. Eijiro grasped his wrist, forcing him to turn to look at the redhead. Katsuki scowled as he looked to his best friend, but that quickly eased when he noticed something. He was crying. Eijiro had tears in his eyes. Katsuki was surprised. He had half expected it, knowing how Eijiro had grown up but the pure desperation in his voice was something that even made Katsuki’s heart clench. "Please, don't do this." Eijiro whispered, almost begging.

Katsuki let out a sigh with a roll of his eyes. He wrenched his hand out of Eijiro’s hold, "Eijiro, why the hell are you the one crying? I'm the one who's pregnant right now." He motioned to his chest.

“Why am I…?” The question almost felt like it was a joke for Katsuki to be asking him that. Eijiro let out a breath before motioning to him. "Cause you want to go kill our baby, Katsuki."

"Eijiro, it's not our anything.”

“Yes, it is. I was there! It takes two to make a baby, Katsuki!”

Katsuki let out a groan as he moved to drag his hands down his face. He took a deep breath, before putting his hands together. “I can't be pregnant right now. We have just barely finished our degrees. We’re twenty-one! And I am sure as hell not going to raise a child, at least not right now. We- or at least I am not financially or mentally ready for that." Katsuki reasoned.

Eijiro stepped forward with a trying expression. “My parents are ready to help us.” He announced. “They said they could help us raise them while we get our bearings, and my parents are more t-”

“Your- Eijiro.” Katsuki’s face fell, becoming void of all emotion. “Did you tell your parents?”

Eijiro blinked confused at the change in face. His glossy wide ruby eyes blinked. “Of course, I did.”

Katsuki let out a loud frustrated groan. The one thing he didn’t need was more people knowing about this… this unfortunate development. He looked to Eijiro with a fed up look in his eyes. “Eijiro, why on earth would you tell your parents!”

“I…” Eijiro hesitated but shrugged. He moved to hold his arms as he seemed to shrink. “I didn’t know what else to do. Katsuki, you know how close I am to my family. When I found out that we were having a baby I-”

"It isn't a fucking baby, Eijiro! It isn’t anything. It is nothing but a useless parasitic clump of-"

"NO!" The interruption even shocked Katsuki himself as he closed his mouth, wide eyed. Eijiro had his eyes closed as he shook his head. He opened his tear brimmed ruby eyes. "Don't say that." He whispered so softly and yet sternly. "Do not say that."

Katsuki scoffed as he threw his hands up. "Oh, for heaven’s sake, Eijiro. This is not the time for your family’s conservative values to come out right now.” Now Katsuki could feel the tears in his eyes as he looked to his best friend. He felt his attempt at a calm demeanour, slip away as he looked at his best friend. “I thought you had changed! I though you were better!”

“Better? Katsuki, I’m still the same man. Nothing has changed.” Eijiro felt confused. Nothing about him had changed, nothing was different. He was still the same Eijiro that hung on Katsuki’s every whim.

Katsuki let out a cynical laugh. “Eijiro, I thought you were better than your family! That you wouldn’t be blinded by some old Japanese conservative bullshit!” He motioned to the side.

Eijiro frowned as he looked at his best friend. “Don’t call my family’s values ‘bullshit’, Katsuki. I’m not bad! I’m not judging you! I’m not hating you! I’m just asking you to give our baby a chance!” He begged.

Katsuki looked at Eijiro, so unable to understand him. He sniffed as he wiped his nose before looking away from him again. “You are one of my closest friends… and I love you, I really do but we made a stupid mistake and slept together. A stupid irresponsible mistake that resulted into something that isn’t meant to be. We don't want this." He stated adamantly.

"Katsuki, I do! I do want this!” Eijiro urged as he motioned to himself, his voice loud and no doubt they would get a complaint from the neighbours, but he didn’t care. He wiped at his eyes as he let out a sigh. “Katsuki I’ll do anything. I’ll work three jobs if I have to, I’ll work for my parents, I’ll literally do anything, just please… We can do this together if you just had a little faith in us.” He pleaded, hoping and praying that his best friend would believe in this as much as he did. “We can do this... please.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes as he made his way to the door, picking up his keys as he did so. He saw no use in continuing this conversation. A rush of fear went down Eijiro’s spine. Katsuki was leaving and Lord knows that Eijiro wouldn’t be able to stop him once he left. So he did the one thing he could do.

Katsuki paused at the heavy thud behind him. He didn’t want to look back, but he did so anyways.

There was his hulk of a best friend, on his knees, head bent down, hands in front of him as he bowed. "Katsuki, I'll do anything, just please. I'll give you anything you want. I'll take full responsibility, you won't ever have to see the child again, I’ll pay you if I have to, anything you want. Any amount you want. Just please…” It was a crippling and pathetic plea.

But the only thing Katsuki could focus on was on payment.

Anything he wanted...

He glanced back at Eijiro. His best friend. Eijiro came from a wealthy family. Wealthy enough to have a say in politics. The Kirishima diamond company was one of the wealthiest in Asia. Despite the wealth, the Kirishimas were great people, friendly and caring. Although they were a strict and solid in their values, they were definitely friends worth keeping. However, Eijiro grew up wealthy, he had decided to follow his passions instead (typical rich kid stuff).

He wasn’t like Katsuki who even though fashion was in his blood, everything he ever wanted was cut back for his parent’s dream of their own fashion industry. A dream that Katsuki shared, a dream that he spent countless years dreaming of and envisioning. A dream he spent late nights trying to perfect in his head with countless of designs just waiting for a spot. However, money was what made dreams come true. Money that the Bakugou’s needed to support their shop especially now in its early stages.

Money that the Kirishimas had.

“Anything?” Katsuki asked lowly.

Eijiro lifted his head, he saw a chance, a silver thread that would be his last opportunity to take. One that he knew would not last long if he hesitated. “Anything you want, Katsuki.”

The blond looked back at him. He sighed and turned around, his face turning hard and stoney as he folded his arms. “If I am going to do this for you, Eijiro, it will be on my own terms.” Eijiro nodded his head, understanding whole heartedly and willing to go with (almost) whatever the blond would want. Katsuki scowled at how eager he looked. “In no way shape or form will I be responsible for the… the foetus. Nothing will come back to me. I don’t want my name anywhere, I don’t want anything to do with it. I carry it to term and that’s all.” He listed first on one finger as he stood in front of Eijiro. “Two, I don’t want this being announced or spread about anywhere. No one should know about this other than your family and mine. Three, you will pay me a desired amount twice a week and pay for everything having to deal with this pregnancy. I am not going to spend money on something I don’t want. Every doctor’s visit, prenatal pills, all that shit, I am not spending my money on. Those are my terms.”

Eijiro nodded his head. All something he could agree with. If it was what made Katsuki keep the baby, he would do it. He would do anything. He quickly scrambled onto his feet as he looked at Katsuki with a hopeful and relieved smile, his ruby eyes shining as he looked down at Katsuki. It made the blond squirm. “Oh Katsuki, thank you! Thank you, so much! You won’t regret it!” As he moved to hug the blond on instinct, Katsuki put up a hand to show that he was in no way wanting to touch Eijiro. Eijiro paused.

Even though Katsuki never really was one to initiate physical affection, he never rejected Eijiro.

Katsuki had his eyes closed for a moment as he took a second before opening his eyes. “I think its best… you move out.” He looked up at Eijiro with cold eyes.

Eijiro froze for a moment, processing what Katsuki had just said. He felt almost out of his body for a second as he lowered his arms slowly, his smile moving off of his face. “What… what do you mean?” He asked softly, his voice a low sound, nothing like the boisterous booming voice that normally rumbled out of his chest.

Katsuki folded his arms but he couldn’t look at Eijiro. “I think it’s best for us to keep our distance right now. I don’t… I don’t feel comfortable with you here.”

That was a lie. It was a lie as easy as the sun rising from the west and yet it stung more than anything he had ever said to Eijiro. The redhead’s face cracked for a second as he couldn’t comprehend why Katsuki would say that. However, when Katsuki finally moved his crimson eyes up to him, rising his head as he stood by what he said, Eijiro knew that Katsuki didn’t regret it. At least not to himself.

Eijiro forced a painful smile to his face. He nodded his head as he sniffed. “Yah… yah okay. If… if that’s what you want.” He let out trying to make it sound light in the tense hallways as he wiped his eyes with his big hands. He put his palms to his face for a second before letting out a deep stuttered breath. “Let me-let me go pack somethings then.” He motioned back to his room.

Katsuki nodded his head. “Okay.”

Eijiro hesitated, waiting for something, anything, for Katsuki just to tell him that he wanted him to stay… just at least that. But Katsuki didn’t say a word. His face never changed as he just stared at Eijiro. Eijiro nodded his head, shoving his hands into his pockets and walked himself to his room.

Ever since that day, their communication was limited to short texts and text reactions more than anything else. Eijiro moved in with his older sister in the meantime, he would have moved back in with his parents, but he still had to take his last few lectures and exams before finally finishing his degree. However, Akari barely noticed him at all and that concerned her, and it was only when she really looked at him did she realise the worse. He had fallen back into his depression.

Ever since middle school, Eijiro had been prone to depression. His emotions just were so much and so strong for him to handle that it would leave him in a lingering feeling of emptiness for a while. It would be no feelings or all feelings all at once. It made him physically unwell for the most part. It was worrying, especially since Eijiro had been doing so well for the past few years.

However, with a phone call back home, Takeo and Yua decided to pop in for a while. They were worried for their son, like any concerned parent would be. He was always in his room, barely eating as much as he normally did and the endless self-loathing wasn’t helping either. That was until, Takeo decided to do something about it.

Takeo entered. “Eijiro.”

His son lay on his bed, holding a pillow, as he had his back to the door. The curtains were drawn blocking out any light. Eijiro was motionless, not bothering to turn around and see who it was. The room was slightly stuffy, and it was clear that Eijiro had no intention of cleaning up around his space.

Takeo frowned as he walked over to his son. He put his hands in his pockets. “Eijiro, you’ve been in here too long. How about we go take a walk?”

It took a moment before Eijiro responded. “No, thank you.” He spoke lowly as he stayed where he was, his bare back still towards the door.

Takeo let out a breath as he glanced back at his wife. Yua motioned for him to continue trying. Takeo scratched the back of his head, trying to think up of something to say. He sat down next to Eijiro on the edge of the bed. “Eijiro buddy,” He put a hand to his shoulder. “I know… I know that you miss him and that it hurts that a decision that you made resulted in the end of your friendship, but… at the end of the day it’s better you stick to your morals and what is right rather than going against that, even if it’s for someone that you love. The people that love you will understand that or at least would try to. Remember, every life is a blessing Eijiro, and this new life will be a blessing to you to.” He spoke sincerely. He gave a smile before patting Eijiro. “Now how about you get up and you can come and intern at the company, huh? I’m sure I can put in a good word for you to the boss.” Takeo chuckled at his own joke (considering he was the current CEO of the company).

Eijiro didn’t laugh.

Yua sent him a pointed look making Takeo raise his hands in confusion. “What? I thought it was funny.”

She shook her head before looking back to her two eldest children. Ayah and Akari stood in the hallways looking behind Yua, the identical twins mirroring each other. They looked down at their mother. Akari knew what she wanted them to do and immediately shook her head. “No thank you, ma, I don’t really do encouraging Eijiro.” She let out tensely with a grimace.

“Yah, we kind of just bully him until he feels better. Works ninety percent of the time.” Ayah spoke confidently with a nod of her head. “Maybe he wants beef pie?” Ayah thought as she put a hand to her chin in thought. “That makes me feel better.”

“Same.” Akari nodded her head. The two identical twins looked to each other and nodded. “We can make beef pie. That’ll make him feel better.” The two of them left without even waiting for a response from Yua.

Yua sighed in dismay. She shook her head before moving into the room herself. She moved to the other side of the bed, sitting down carefully as she looked at her son. She watched as his ruby eyes moved up to her, soft, sad and sullen. She gave him a sad smile. She put a hand to his hair, threading through it slowly. “What’s going through your head, honey?” She asked softly.

Eijiro was quiet for a moment before closing his eyes. “He… he said he was uncomfortable with me.” He whispered. “That who I was and what I chose, made him uncomfortable, made him not want to be around me.” He tightened his grip on his pillow. “Ma, I have always supported him. Never once have I ever hated or hurt or hindered him from being himself, from what he’s always wanted. But… but this one thing that affects the both of us… and suddenly I’m viewed as a monster, like I’ve never loved him or supported him. It almost makes me feel like…” Eijiro closed his eyes as he tightened his grip on the pillow.

“Feel as though you made the wrong decision?” Eijiro didn’t respond. Yua figured as much, it was only natural. She took a moment before looking back at him. “Eijiro, I know how much you love Katsuki, how much he’s your best friend and maybe meant more to you in your heart, which is why I know how painful this is for you.” Her soft and sweet voice made Eijiro just want to cry even more at her affirming his feelings. “I know how hard it is to hear such things from a person you love, however, your father is right. If we take our family’s ideals and morals out of the equation… whatever you believe, shouldn’t be compromised just because you’re afraid of what other people think.” She advised as she moved her hand to his face. “We are who we are. I know it’s painful, but you made this decision for a reason. Right?”

Eijiro thought for a second before nodding his head. “Yah.”

“Right. You made this decision, now let’s think of both sides.” She lifted up her hand. “On the negative, yes you probably just lost a close friend. You might be labelled as a monster who is trying to force Katsuki into keeping a baby he doesn’t want. Yes, this will be hard, watching Katsuki not want to have anything to do with the baby. It is going to be hard caring for a child without a mother, having to sacrifice a lot of your dreams to care for this child, sacrifice your fun Fridays and Saturdays.” She lifted up her other hand. “But if we were honest, at the end of the day, Katsuki made the decision that he would do it for the money. He agreed with you, you gave him an alternative and he took it. And Eiji…” Eijiro looked up at his mother, she had a beautiful smile on her face, her warm golden eyes looking down at him. “You’re gonna have a baby, a new person in your life who is going to love you unconditionally and who will look to you as if you were the world.” She bent down and placed a kiss to his cheek. “There’s no better feeling than seeing your child for the first time. So, take your time, breathe, think, but come back stronger proud in your decision. It will take time, but that’s okay.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze before standing up. She motioned to Takeo to follow her out.

Takeo looked at her with love sick eyes. “Honey, you’re so amazing.” He said sweetly with a smile. “You’re so lovely. Such an amazing mother.” Takeo stood up as he followed her, Yua dragging him along out of the room. “God, I love you so much.”

“I know, Takeo. I know. I love you too.”

Now Eijiro wasn’t entirely sure what to do or how he was feeling but after a while, he realised his parents were right, that and he was tired of sitting down all day. Which was how Eijiro got up out of bed (albeit it took thirty minutes to do so) and hit the gym. An odd thing to want to do first, but Eijiro always found that he thought better when he was moving and exercising. Luckily for him, Akari had her own gym so he didn’t exactly have to leave.

First off, Eijiro realised that if he was going to be a father, he had to pull up his socks. Figuratively of course. He had to snap out of his mood and realise that if he was going to be responsible for someone else’s life, that means that he will have to change for the better. Change would mean accepting some harsh truths, it meant giving up on certain things (and certain people) and choosing another path.

And that’s what Eijiro did. It was painful at first, but he did. Takeo was overjoyed when his son came up to him asking him about work at the company, almost enough to make the grown man cry. It took a while to get used to the fact that he would actually be working for his family's company and not just doing his own thing like he wanted to, but it was a change that he felt he needed. Ever since then, Eijiro did not bother himself with much thoughts of Katsuki because that would send him spiralling. He had to focus on something else that wasn’t himself, and that was the baby.

Katsuki didn’t like it when he came to doctor’s visits. Eijiro went to the first one and that was tense enough to cut air with a butter knife. Although, Eijiro didn’t half mind Katsuki, because that was the day he heard his baby’s heartbeat for the first time. It was terrifying and yet beautiful. The baby was there, and they were living and Eijiro teared up just seeing the little growing baby. He didn’t care that Katsuki had his earphones in, blasting some music to keep the heartbeat out of his ears, he didn’t care about the weekly payments leaving his family bank account that was probably equivalent to a salary, none of it mattered when he saw his child for the first time.

Katsuki and him at some point, stopped talking entirely. If anything, Eijiro only got news from Mina. As a mediator friend and having moved in with Katsuki after Eijiro left, Mina kept between the two of them. She was there with Katsuki daily, to every doctor’s appointment and all rushed trips to the bathroom to throw up breakfast, she was there. She was Katsuki’s closest confidant and yet she was also Eijiro’s too. Maybe that’s what Katsuki hated about the whole arrangement. No matter how safe he felt around Mina and how much she stayed neutral and saw the logic in everything when Katsuki was seconds away from blowing a fuse, she was Eijiro’s friend first. She knew the Kirishimas since she and Eijiro were in primary school. There was deep connections laced there.

But Katsuki tried his best not to let it bother him. Especially at Mina’s birthday get together at their apartment that Katsuki was forced to attend (mostly because he lived there too). The baggy clothing couldn’t hide much when six months pregnant and at that point Katsuki had learnt to just accept the bump and the presence it had.

He accepted it for the betterment of his sanity, but it didn’t make it any less harder when everyone wouldn’t stop talking about.

“Wow, Kacchan.” Izuku smiled down at the blond who scowled up at him from where he stood in his slippers having gone to grab a cup of grape juice. The tall green haired man stood with his hands in his pockets, having already just given Mina her gift. “You look-”

Katsuki put up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it Deku. I nearly kicked Denki out the window because of what he said, I don’t want to hear shit from you too.”

Izuku chuckled, not surprised at all. “All I was going to say is, you look great. Better than I thought you would.” He commented. Izuku was one of the few people who knew everything about the situation with the baby. Having had gone through his own surprise with Ochaco around a year ago, he was one of the few people who understood both sides of the court, one as a father and two as Katsuki’s friend.

Katsuki glared up at him with a huff, a small pout on his face. He had been gaining weight that he honestly hated during the pregnancy, but it also gave him an excuse to exercise and keep moving. It kept him busy. It kept him not thinking about the new movements of the little Kirishima inside him and not thinking about Eijiro either. “Yah… what can I say. According to Mina the little… parasite makes me glow.”

Izuku and him made their way towards the dining room, where most were already. Albeit, Katsuki was slower than normal, waddling next to Izuku (which he had to suppress giggling at). “You can call it a baby, Kacchan, it’s not gonna kill you if you do.”

“It’s not a baby.”

“Of course.”

Katsuki glared at the clear sarcasm. Izuku gave him a smile before turning to greet Sero.

Mina was bouncing around the apartment with a birthday hat on her head as she was making sure everything was perfect. Although lunch was just about ready, there was only one person left who had only just arrived.

“I’ll get it!” Mina got up from her chair, noting that Katsuki looked five seconds away from throwing a chair at Denki, while she went into the hallway. She moved to the front door and opened it. Her face lit up at the sight of one of her oldest friends. “Eiji.”

Eijiro stood with a velvet box in hand and birthday card. He smiled broadly, a sharp grin on his face as he stepped forward to give her a warm hug. She eagerly moved into his arms, having missed him over the past few months that he hadn’t shown his face. “Happy birthday, Mina.” He let out lowly, a soft sigh at a friendly face.

She moved back, her hands on his shoulders as she looked him over. He had cleaned up well, wearing a button down with sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Eijiro never used to wear button downs unless there was something formal happening. She raised a pink eyebrow at the sight of is him. She hummed with a smirk. “All this just for little old me?” She asked.

“You know I would do anything for you, Mina.”

She chuckled. “Don’t flatter me, Eij. Come on, we were just about to start.”

She led him down familiar halls, with memories that he found rather painful to think about still. A part of him didn’t even want to come today. Not because Katsuki would be there, but just seeing their old apartment and being a stranger inside it. He moved down the halls, hulking heavy footsteps announcing his presence in the same way Katsuki would hear when they shared an apartment.

Mina smiled as she entered the decorated room, taking the gift from Eijiro. “Guys, guess who’s here!” She let out happily, motioning back to the large man who came in walking after her.

Denki shot up. “Eijiro!” The blond made his way to his friend, making Eijiro laugh. “Where have you been man? We haven’t seen you in months.” However, the blond stopped short as he tilted his head with wide electric eyes. He raised an eyebrow, motioning to Eijiro. “Is it just me, or is there something different about him?” He asked with furrowed brows as he put a hand to his chin and thought hard.

Sero chuckled as he leaned back in his seat. He folded his arms over his chest as he did so. “His hair, Denks.”

That was true. Eijiro’s hair wasn’t its usual signature vivid crimson red that he was known for. His hair was an inky dark midnight black and chopped shorter than any one of them had ever seen it. His natural hair colour was something they rarely, if ever, saw. Denki’s eyes widened noticing the change in colour and length. Although short, it looked good on him. Eijiro chuckled as he pulled Denki into a hug. “It’s good to see you too, Denki.” He greeted. “And I’ve just been working. Working for my father is no easy thing. I think the man forgets I’m his son half the time.”

“You finally took your old man on his offer?” Sero asked surprised. It was something that Eijiro had usually denied ever wanting. Not that he didn’t like his family’s business but he always wanted to go out and do his own thing. Own a gym, travel, probably go into rugby since he was a star player at their university before they graduated. Katsuki looked to Eijiro with a twitch of his eyebrow.

Eijiro nodded his head with a small smile, “Yah, I did.” He had nothing more to add about it.

“You run out of hair dye, big red?” Denki asked looking up at his tall friend, who even though wore a button down with the top two buttons open, the third one seemed to strain against his muscles and pecs.

Eijiro shook his head. “No, I just decided to go back to black.”

Shinso hummed as he lifted up a glass of champagne. “Amy Winehouse would agree.”

Eijiro said his greetings to everyone before finally landing on Katsuki. And when the time came to acknowledge each other, the room seemed to go silent to see how that would turn out. Katsuki sat in his large hoodie that was truthfully Eijiro’s once upon a time before long winding up with Katsuki. Eijiro wasn’t cruel enough to state it, but it made him uncomfortable because he liked how Katsuki looked in it. Especially with the baby bump visible enough to distend the fabric.

Katsuki sat without a particular emotion on his face. Crimson eyes looking up at him. Katsuki had always liked Eijiro’s hair red, because Eijiro liked his hair red.

Eijiro forced a smile to his face. “Bakugou.” The sound of his family name on Eijiro’s lips stung. It was Kat, or Kitty Kat or Katsuki or some other cute stupid nickname. Bakugou… It was formal. It was business. This was business.

“Kirishima.” Katsuki let out tensely, quieter than he would have liked.

Eijiro moved his eyes down to the baby bump, his smile turning small but genuine at the sight. Katsuki instinctively put his hands around it, disrupting whatever moment Eijiro had for a split second. Eijiro’s smile left as he looked back to Katsuki’s face. “How are they?” He motioned over to him as he sat down next to Izuku and Mina.

Katsuki tapped his stomach cordially. “Fine.”

“How was the doctor’s visit?”

“Fine.”

“The pillow my mother sent for you?”

“Fine.”

“Anything new?”

“No.”

“Perfect. Izuku,” The interaction was so stiff, lifeless and fast that even Izuku was taken by surprise when Eijiro’s attention was on him now solely and moved off of Katsuki as easily as if it was never there. His eyebrow’s shot up in surprise with a hum. Eijiro gave a chuckle. “You look tired.”

He wasn’t wrong. Izuku had bags under his eyes and a slight slump to his body, however he didn’t exactly look drained. Izuku put a hand to the back of his neck and chuckled. “What can I say? Newborns are a lot of work, especially with Asahi.” He joked lightly.

Midoriya Asahi, Izuku’s one year old son, was born with paraplegia (born paralysed from the waist down), luckily it just affects his legs, otherwise the boy is as healthy as a horse. He was a cheerful child, with Midoriya’s signature green eyes and freckles but born with his mother’s brown hair. He was an absolute sweetheart and Izuku would do anything for his son. Although him and Ochaco never worked out, he couldn’t care less because now he had Asahi.

Izuku looked to Eijiro with a friendly smile, leaning back in his chair. “I think fatherhood would suit you, Eijiro. You’ll love it. Minus the diaper changes and midnight feedings.”

Eijiro chuckled. “You sound like my mother.” He joked. “Actually, I wanted to tell you that I told my father about your business proposal and what you’ve been working on.”

That caught the green haired man’s attention, as he sat up. Izuku was ridiculously smart. Smart enough that he was studying and interning as a Bioengineer. It was quite convenient actually because with Asahi, Izuku had found a new inspiration in working in creating technology for those who suffered from paralysis or palsy related conditions. “And he’s interested.”

“Yah?” Izuku asked with wide eyes, and a glint in them.

Shinso immediately saw the look in his eyes and side. “Oh no, he’s going to-”

“Because honestly, I’ve been working on a few models recently that I really thing have potential. Although one in specific is to help with cerebral palsy. Now of course, I don’t think it gives full on control of affected limbs but it does give independence and I think that’s the main objective here. I’ve read some very interesting cases and with the company I’m working with giving the approval for the funding of it, I really think it would be a big help having the Kirishimas on it. Actually it gives a lot more for you guy considering we use some of your diamonds in the lasers and-”

Mina sighed as the green haired man went rambling off. Mina looked to Eijiro with a pointed look but amused nonetheless. She was just happy to see everyone together again.

Katsuki rolled his eyes not surprised. “Oi! Deku!” He shouted, catching Izuku off guard. “Stop talking and lets eat lunch. Some of us are hungry.”

Lunch and cake was divine and Mina couldn’t have smiled more at having all her friends here with her for her day. She was happy and that was all she ever wanted for the day. As the socialising came to a close and everyone started to head home, Katsuki had moved to his room, his social battery having run low. He got up to grab some beef flavoured chips from the kitchen, since that was one of his new cravings, when he paused. He noticed something out on the balcony.

Mina stood with Eijiro, the last to leave for the day. She held a little cupcake in her hand with a bright smile as she looked up at him. The sun was setting and the orange light fell on her making it the perfect golden hour for her skin. “Come on, Eiji, I know you want to know.”

Eijiro hesitated. “Mina, this is your day. I don’t want to take away from that.” He told her honestly, hesitant to take the cupcake.

Mina gave him a pointed look, golden eyes looking up at him. He eased at the sight of her. The sun was just setting and the brown skinned woman always had a knack for weakening Eijiro’s defences ever since they were kids. “Ei, this is just as important to me as it is for you. You deserve to know and this is one of the only times I’ll get to see you again until like three months from now. Come on, this is for me just as it is for you.”

Eijiro looked down at the vanilla cupcake. He let out a breath and picked up the cupcake. He undid the wrapping and took a bite out of it. The cupcake was sweet, soft and fluffy and the butter icing was great too. He nodded his head and pointed to the cupcake. “You should put an order for me into Sato,” He said muffled by the cupcake in his mouth. “cause these are-” He stopped talking as he looked inside the middle.

Pink.

It was pink.

Eijiro paused as he looked up to Mina. He seemed frozen in time for a moment as she giggled. She made jazz hands as she smiled dearly at him. “You’re gonna be a girl dad, Eiji.”

Suddenly there were tears in his eyes. He’s jaw started to tremble as he tried his best not to cry but was failing. He put a hand to his face as he moved to lean against the railing, tears coming to his eyes. Mina awed as she moved to take him into her arms, chuckling as he was overcome with emotion. She rubbed his back as she held him, which only made him sob worse.

He swallowed down the piece of cupcake he still had in his mouth before looking to Mina with tears falling down his face. “A girl?” He let out weakly.

Mina chuckled as she felt her own eyes sting. She nodded. “Yep, a girl. Not very surprising, looking at your family.” That made him laugh which brought a broader smile to her face.

Katsuki stood watching the moment quietly, the grip on the packet of chips was hard, almost deathly. Something inside Katsuki felt sour and angry. Maybe it was because Eijiro was happy about this, and he felt like he was supposed to be too. Maybe it was because there they were, sharing a happy moment about something that Katsuki rejected from the start. Katsuki wanted to be the one to tell Eijiro the news, not her. He was supposed to be in Eijiro’s arms, getting praised.

But then again, Katsuki had known for a little over two weeks now…

and he had no plans on telling Eijiro at all.

Around at 38 weeks, Katsuki moved in with the Kirishimas. A decision he didn’t want to take but one he took regardless. He wanted this delivery as hushed as possible and the Kirishimas had everything needed for a at home birth (to be expected for a family that had a new member joining every two years max). So when he moved in with the Kirishimas he wasn’t worried about that.

He was more worried about the tension around him. Now the Kirishimas weren’t bad people, and they didn’t say anything about the situation or what they thought about it (At least not to his face). They treated him kindly and made sure his stay was as comfortable as possible. Maybe that’s what made it worse. The fact that they were keeping him all nice and comfortable, bubbling about the new baby that was to come.

Katsuki hated it.

He hated that they were nice to him. He hated that they were not hating him. He hated that they weren’t calling him an attempted murderer for wanting to abort the foetus in the first place. He hated that they got him everything even if he didn’t ask for it. He hated how with every shout and profanity and harsh comment he said to them, they just smiled it off and continued to help him.

Katsuki hated it.

What he hated the most was giving birth. That was a bitch. He had never experience something more painful in his entire life and he hated every second of it. He hated the pain, he hated everyone around him telling him he was doing a good job, he hated that he just wanted all the pain to go away and for the stupid child to get out of him. But most of all, he hated the relief he felt when she was born.

Katsuki finally took a deep breath as he fell back against the pillows, tears in his eyes as he finally got to breathe and to think. Everything was so loud around him and yet finally for a second he could hear nothing. A solid second of nothing. Just pure nothing. He took an inhale and suddenly the world came back to how it was. A hand wiped the sweat off his forehead with a cloth. He looked to the side to see his father with a smile. Masaru placed a kiss on his forehead. “Good job, firework.” He whispered.

Katsuki was half surprised that his father stayed the entire time. His crimson eyes moved to the other side of the room. There was Yua and Ayah crowded around something that was crying. Katsuki wanted to rest. He wanted to sleep. But he couldn’t do that when that… that thing was screaming its head off.

Yua wiped the baby with an adoring smile on her face. “There you go, there you go. It’s okay, little one. You don’t have to cry. We’re all here for you. I know you’re scared but it’s okay.” Her voice was soft and calm, motherly even. Katsuki hated it. She swaddled the little baby, putting on a pink little knitted beanie she had made for the new baby girl. With the little girl now all attended too, Yua moved over to Katsuki while Ayah automatically moved to check his vitals and how he was doing. “Katsuki.” Yua spoke gently, but Katsuki half wanted them all to disappear. He had done his job. Why couldn’t they leave him be. “Do you want to hold her? She’s the cutest little-”

“Don’t let that thing touch me.” Immediately Yua moved back, keeping the baby in her arms as Katsuki glared at her. His eyes moved to the baby that was still crying. “Take it outside. I don’t want it in this room.”

Yua paused as she looked to Masaru. Masaru hesitated but looked to Katsuki. “Katsuki… most of the things the baby needs is in here. If you don’t want to touch her, that’s fine but-”

“It’s making a fucking noise and I’m tired!” He shouted up at Masaru with tears in his eyes before looking at the bundle in Yua’s arms. “I don’t want it fucking near me! Get rid of it!”

“Katsuki, calm down, son.” Masaru said softly as he put a hand to Katsuki.

Katsuki slapped his hand away. “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!”

Masaru swallowed down hard and looked to Yua. Yua nodded and held the little crying baby to her chest. She quickly moved out of the room, heading to the next room over. She was more worried about the baby not getting the critical skin-to-skin she needs right now than anything else. She trusted Katsuki in Ayah and Masaru’s care. Ayah had studied to be a pediatrician and was beyond skilled enough to monitor Katsuki more than Yua herself, being a nurse.

Yua entered the room where Eijiro was. He stood in the room with Takeo and Akari, but immediately turned to his mother who held the baby in her arms. His eyes widened, not having expected everything to be happening so fast so suddenly. Before he could even ask, Yua spoke. “Eijiro, sit down.” Eijiro couldn’t even argue before he was being forced into a cushioned seat in the room. “Shirt.” He wasn’t gonna argue with his mother now. She was in nurse-no-nonsense mode and he wasn’t about to fight her. He took off his shirt, Akari taking it away from him before the small girl was placed on his chest.

Eijiro’s eyes widened as he looked down at the newborn. Her cries became smaller as she came in contact with his skin. Yua put the warm blanket around her back and over Eijiro, to keep her warm as she rested her head on Eijiro’s skin. Eijiro held her carefully making sure that she was supported well enough. Soon the little one stopped crying as she let out soft whimpers.

She… she was so small.

Compared to Eijiro. She was a pretty big baby for the most part. Her little scrunched up face seemed almost in distress. Her eyes opened, deep red wine crimson eyes as she withheld cries. Eijiro carefully caressed her back as he shushed her sweetly out of instinct. “Hey…” he let out in soft disbelief. He tried to fight away tears but failed as they brimmed his ruby eyes. She had soft black hair underneath her little beanie, her skin was so soft and she felt so light Eijiro wondered if she was an angel sent from heaven. “Hi.” He looked down at her.

She let out another small whimper that broke his heart.

This was his girl. His little girl and she was finally in his arms. Safe from everything that could hurt her.

Yua stepped back seeing that everything was handled. For now she had to worry about warming the colostrum she managed to get for the baby. Before she could leave, Takeo stopped her. He motioned for her to look again. She paused looking at her husband confused before looking upon her only son. Eijiro sniffed as he looked down at the little girl, so humbled and so speechless.

This was a moment that couldn’t be replicated again.

Takeo was quiet as he moved over to Eijiro. “Have you thought of a name?” He asked.

Eijiro paused, all his attention on the newborn girl in his arms. He had put his finger in her hand, her fingers couldn’t even wrap around that. He let out a soft scoff. “Despite everything, you’re here with me, aren’t you? My sweet little girl.” He whispered softly. “You fought all the odds to be here, you know that?” He asked. “My little miracle. My little Sachiko.”

Katsuki and Eijiro never spoke even after Sachiko was born. Hell, Eijiro didn’t even know if Katsuki knew the name of the baby girl. It took Katsuki three days and then he was gone like the wind, never said a word to Eijiro.

Eijiro sighed as he put a hand to the back of his neck. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked back up at you. He wasn’t entirely sure how you would receive this news. He hadn’t talked about it in years, mostly because he never saw a need to, but it felt good to say it out loud. You were silent as you digested what he just told you.

Eijiro swallowed hard at your silence as he looked down away from you. His large hands gripped one another harshly. “I… I know this might change the way you think about me… I know that you might think that I’m-”

“Eijiro.” The large man looked up but froze when he found you standing right in front of him, looking down at him. You had your hands on his face, caressing his face. You seemed almost worried almost concerned. “Thank you for telling me. That must have been hard for you to deal with.” You spoke in almost a whisper.

Eijiro just stared at you confused. “But… why… why aren’t you-” He tilted his head confused, so unbearably confused. Get angry with him. Shout at him. Stop looking at him like he-

“You did nothing wrong, Eijiro. Why should I be angry with you?” You asked with a tilt of your head. You carefully brought his head to your chest as you held him close to you. Eijiro closed his eyes as he held onto you. Eijiro took a breath.

-Glitch1d

#kirishima x reader #mha x y/n #eijiro kirishima #dad kirishima #kirishima #dilf kirishima #dilf eijiro kirishima #kirishima x bakugou #past kirishima/bakugou #trans bakugou #trans katsuki #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijiro x reader

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imawholeassmood · 3 days

Text

Read Between the Lines

read it on ao3

Lena reads the review, rubs her temples a few times, then reads it again. There is no way Super_Girl has rated this book five stars and then wrote multiple paragraphs waxing poetic about how fantastic it was. Lena already submitted her own one-star review which included her breakdown of the writing, the characters, and the plot, of which this book had none.

For months, Lena has been seeing Super_Girl reviews pop up on the same books Lena recently finished. She wondered at this point if Super_Girl might be doing this on purpose – reading the same books just so she could rate the book the opposite of whatever Lena did. At first, it was simple - “Loved it!” or “Couldn’t get into this one,” but as of late, the reviews had gotten longer and more descriptive.

Lena herself always used the same formula for reviewing books: overall star rating with a breakdown of her thoughts on the characters, the plot, and the writing. Books, like most things in life, are easy to rate when you understand the evaluation system. Books follow formulas and rules for a reason – it’s what makes them good. A romance novel, for instance, requires a “happily ever after.” Without it, it cannot be considered a romance, and it certainly wouldn’t be a good one.

So, as Lena reads the latest review by Super_Girl, Lena can’t help but leave a comment. Maybe this person simply needs an education on the book rating system.

“What criteria do you use when rating a book?”

It’s a good starting place for this conversation. Lena has amassed quite the following with people interested in her book reviews and the last thing she wants to do is stir up internet drama to damage her good reputation. She knows how easy it is for people to take something out of context.

The reply comes almost immediately.

“Vibes!”

Lena blinks a few times, then closes the browser and leaves her laptop for the night.

Super_Girl does it again with another five-star rating for a book that made Lena seriously consider contacting the literary award agencies to complain about their selection. The book sounded like it was AI generated and had zero plot. And the characters? Don’t even get her started.

“How can you consider this a masterpiece?” she writes under the review. “There is zero substance in this book. It’s just a bunch of flowery words that mean nothing and make no sense. If this is your idea of romance, then I’d hate to be your girlfriend.”

Her phone rings and Lena spends the next hour talking with her assistant, Jess, about the priorities for the week and when they can finalize some presentations. Later, as she lays in bed scrolling on her phone, Lena thinks to check her goodreads account. There, under her latest comment, is a reply from Super_Girl.

“Amidst the turmoil of the crumbling world around them, two people take the time to write love letters to each other. What’s more romantic than that?

I want to meet you in every place I have loved.

I want to be in contact with you.

Swoon.”

Speaking of taking things out of context.

While Lena can see Super_Girl’s point, that’s not enough to change her mind about the book. Especially not in the context of it being a sci-fi fantasy that relegated war to a backdrop in much the same way Hollywood did with Pearl Harbor. Don’t get her started. She types out a response before closing the webpage and going to sleep.

“Relationships develop over time. Even if I agreed with your assessment, this book still lacked any real narrative and there’s zero reason to believe these two people would fall in love. They don’t know anything about each other except that they can write a decent letter.”

Oh, no, Lena thinks. Her latest read has her questioning her entire belief system about books. She liked the book. Not because it had a great plot. Not because she was rooting for the characters. She liked the book because…it gave her good vibes. She genuinely had a good time reading it, despite it being a complete shitshow. This never happened to her before.

She opens her goodreads page to leave her review and finds that Super_Girl hasn’t read this one yet. She feels the slightest pang of disappointment but pushes through to her review. At the end of her standard format, she adds a new category: vibes.

It takes a few days, and Lena finds herself checking her account every few hours. She’s sitting at her desk and scrolling on her phone when she gets a notification that Super_Girl commented on her review.

“Vibes?!?! I’m SUPER proud of you! And we agree the characters were awful and the plot was weak, but it was well-written.”

She doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Jess comments about it.

“Oh, nothing,” she says and waves her hand. “Just a literary rival.”

Jess looks at her. “You’re smiling because of…a rival?”

Is that what they were? The word didn’t really feel like a good fit, but Lena goes with it.

“Agreed with me on a point. Can we please stay focused?”

And they do. Lena and Jess go over the latest reports and prepare for an upcoming meeting with one of their international partners. Lena doesn’t think about Super_Girl again until she’s lying in bed and that damn smile creeps backs onto her face.

Her next review is not a good one. It makes Lena question the romance genre as a whole. Has the world become so used to being treated like garbage, people can’t even tell the difference between healthy and toxic love?

She’s barely hit submit when Super_Girl comments on her review.

“They were flirting the whole time!”

Lena is still sour enough she doesn’t bother to hold back on her response.

“Flirting where? Being in each other’s orbit is not flirting. Why can’t people just say, ‘I like you and I’d like to go on a date with you?’ instead of whatever BS was happening in this book. Honestly, I’m worried for your love life if you think this is a healthy way to approach communication.”

Super_Girl goes silent for a long while after that.

Lena worries something may have happened and questions whether she should reach out. They haven’t gone this long without a reciprocal review since they started this little dance of theirs almost a year ago. She finds herself rereading their reviews and wondering about who Super_Girl might be behind the screen name. There’s no profile photo, no personal information at all. Just a single word.

Golly.

Lena smiles at that. In fact, she smiles at everything Super_Girl has written. While they may not agree on books, Lena can’t deny that whoever is behind the reviews is a wordsmith who comes across as the sweetest human on the planet.

It surprises her when she receives a notification that she has been selected to read a new release ahead of publication in exchange for an honest review. Lena doesn’t usually agree because she doesn’t want to give people any reason to think her reviews are biased or influenced in any way. She’s about to deny the request, but the cover art depicts two women, one blonde, the other brunette, and Lena never turns down a sapphic story. She accepts the request without another thought.

When Lena finishes The Write Stuff, she starts it over and reads it again, cover to cover. The writing, the pacing, and the storytelling are superb. It’s as if the author has studied every article about how a romance novel should be written. The characters are so well written, she has clear images of who each of these women are. She understands their desires, their fears, and their motives. Not only does she care about these people as a couple, but she also cares about them individually in a way she hasn’t cared about a character in a long time. As for the plot itself? It’s perfectly cheesy and still somehow realistic enough to be believable that it could happen in real life.

Lena hasn’t felt this…satisfied by a book since well, since she can’t remember.

So, that’s exactly what she writes in her review.

“I especially loved this line:

I would rewrite history if it meant a chance for a happy future with you.”

When she’s done, she looks up the author and finds that she’s written one other book.

Lena doesn’t recall reading it, but when she clicks on the title, she finds her review posted with a few hundred likes and several dozen comments. One star and zero positive things to say about it. Lena can’t help but think how far the author has come from this first book to the most recent one. It’s an impressive improvement, and Lena Luthor isn’t easily impressed.

Supergirl leaves a comment on her review a few days later.

“It looks like the author has been paying attention to your feedback.”

The following week, Lena is staring at the meeting invitation with furrowed brows and a healthy dose of confusion. She presses the call button on the speaker on her desk.

“Yes, Miss Luthor?” Jess says.

“Jess, why do I have a meeting with Supergirl on my calendar?”

Jess is quiet for a moment. She’s quiet so long, in fact, that Lena’s door opens and a blond woman with thick-rimmed glasses wearing chinos and a tucked-in button down steps just inside. She has a nervous smile and fidgets with her glasses.

Lena recognizes her from the photo bio she still has pulled up on her web browser and stands to greet her.

“Miss Danvers,” she says, “please, come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Kara Danvers, author of The Write Stuff, who Lena has been internet stalking for the past week shifts in the doorway. Lena comes around the front of her desk. They stare at each other in silence for a moment before Lena hears a faint “go” from Jess in the reception area. That makes Kara shake out of her stupor.

She brings her hand out from behind her back and holds her arm at full length with a bouquet of…plumerias. Lena can’t believe what she’s seeing. Her favorite flowers which represent love and new beginnings are being offered to her by this stunning woman who wrote one of her favorite books of the year. Lena looks from the flowers back to Kara’s face.

“I like you, Lena Reads” Kara says, “and I would like to go on a date with you.”

#supercorp #supercorp fic #kara danvers and lena luthor #supergirl #kara x lena #not a writer

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enhaheeseung · 1 day

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Toxic - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warning: crying, angst.

Genre: ex's, toxic relationship, mdni!

WC: 1,455k sorry for any errors!

You can’t believe it’s been three months since that dreadful night you and heeseung last saw each other.

You hate that you still even think about him.

The fact is that even after everything he did, you still find your thoughts wandering back to him.

You wished you were strong enough just to say no to him that night.

Then maybe your feelings for him would have been gone by now, but the fact that you let him back into your bed so willingly just made all those feelings come flooding back in, and now, instead of leaving your ex in the past, he was still very much in the present, and it was killing you.

The only hope you had was that he’d leave you alone for good this time. It’s been months, and you haven’t heard so much as a peep from him, so maybe he was finally letting you go.

Letting you move on with your life without him being in it.

As you sat in bed thinking of your ex your doorbell suddenly rang you hopped off your bed not thinking much of the knock it was probably the order you placed last week.

Except when you got to the door and opened it it was no package in fact it was something or someone rather that you were hoping to forget and you can’t believe just when you thought you might not ever see him again he was standing outside your door with flowers in his hand.

Before any words could be exchanged, you slammed the door in his face and quickly locked it before scurrying back to your room and locking that door for no apparent reason other than to be as blocked off from him as possible.

Heeseung lowered his head in guilt, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

He turned around and faced the street in your neighborhood before crouching down on your porch, waiting for you.

He knew you’d have to leave home at some point, so he was gonna wait until you did cause he just had to see you and talk to you one last time.

He’d wait all day if he had to.

And he did even when the sunset he waited, even when his flowers drooped, he waited even when it started to rain, he waited and waited and waited until his body started to shiver and get cold, and even then, he still waited.

He lost track of the hour. That’s just how long he waited.

But that didn’t matter; all that mattered was you coming out, but unfortunately for him, that seemed far-fetched given it was at least midnight by now. It had to be cars were no longer passing by. All the neighbors had their lights off, and he thought of just going home, but he stayed out here for this long, and he could stay till morning.

He was determined.

So determined that he unwillingly passed out right against your front door, he fought so hard to keep his eyes from closing, but ultimately, he lost the fight and succumbed to slumber.

You know you should be in bed by now, but you can’t get any sleep cause every time you close your eyes, you can still see your ex.

So now you’re in the living room watching TV at three in the morning, although even that was drowned out by thoughts of your ex, the only thing that took your attention off of him was a sudden thud against your door.

Jumping in place on the couch, you gripped onto a pillow that was sitting next to you, hugging it to your chest.

You waited a few seconds, and you didn’t hear it again, so you sat up and went over to the door, looking through the peephole.

There was nothing.

Maybe you were hearing things, but to be safe, you decided to check it out a little more thoroughly before calling it quits.

You unlatched the door twisting the knob and carefully opening it.

A shocked gasp escaped your lips when you saw a man sitting outside your door.

And it wasn’t just any man; it was the man who had taken up all your thoughts today. “Heeseung?” You said, completely shocked to see him after months.

“Ow,” he fell backward, his body lying halfway in and outside your door. His eyes were foggy, and he struggled to stand on his own two feet.

His body felt weak. He was soaked in rainwater. His flowers had completely fallen, but he still had his cold fingers tightly wrapped around them. As he turned to face you, his eyes were already tearing up at the sight of you. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice strained as he extended the flowers to you. They were your favorite, but you couldn’t even focus on them when he lost his balance and stumbled forward.

You quickly caught him trying your best to hold up his lanky body.

Kicking the door shut, you carried him to your couch and gently set him down. “W-“

“I’m so so-“ he didn’t get to finish before he started coughing wildly, his throat dry and sore, but he went on cause he needed to tell you this: he needed to get this off his chest. “I’m sorry for everything, the way I treated you, the things I did, what I put you t-through. It was all me. It was never you,” he stuttered, and even though he was soaking wet, you could tell the droplets falling down his cheeks were indeed tears, and your heart hurt for him. “And I promise I won’t bother you anymore. I just had to make sure you knew how sorry I am. I had to make it right.” he engulfed you in one last hug, rubbing your back softly. “I bought these for you.” he chuckles softly and hands you the flowers.

You’re at a loss for words. You didn’t even care that he was hugging you soaking wet.

You can’t believe he actually went through all of this to say he’s sorry he was covered in rain and tears, apologizing to you, something you never thought he’d do.

Was he really at your door this whole entire time? “Did you- were you here since earlier?” You asked confused.

“Yeah.” He smiles bashfully, knowing he’s ridiculous for that, but oh well, he’s here now, and that’s all that mattered. He did what he set out to do. “I just had to tell you.” he looks down at his lap, and your heart aches for him even more. You don’t know if it should or shouldn’t. Maybe it should. You don’t know anymore.

You’re so confused.

Your heart wants him to stay, but your past experience with him tells you not to have a reaction. Let him say his piece and move on.

You nodded, and he looked up at you. His eyes were soft, and his brows creased with emotions, none of which didn’t feel like a thousand little needles stabbing him in his heart.

He waited for a moment just to see if you’d say something more.

Anything at all.

But your silence was enough of an answer to let him know he was not welcome in your home anymore.

You and him were officially done.

Even though his feet felt heavy, he stood up surprisingly in his own power.

You watched as he made his exit, not bothering to stop him at the door. This was for the best. Now, you could move on without him taking up your life without seeing him at gatherings. Now you could be at peace, not having to worry about your ex cropping up at random times and making you fall for him all over again.

“I wish nothing but the best for you. Goodbye, y/n” he twisted the knob and took one deep breath relishing how it felt to be back in your home again.

He stood there for a moment, his heart feeling heavy, knowing that he’d never ever be coming back here to take you out for dates like he used to, to spend the day like he used to, or visit you like he used to.

He sucked it up though this was his doing, and he was finally ready for the consequences.

But he’d never be ready to let you go.

He opened the door and never looked back, walking through your neighborhood for the last time.

It was like the sky was sad for him as cold rain poured down on him, mixing with his salty tears.

But no matter how painful it is, he’s happy that you’re free from him cause he was toxic, and that was no good for you.

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #enhypen fanfic #heeseung fic #heeseung fluff #enhypen lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung angst

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tonguepiercedanyway75 · 2 days

Text

Stormy ride // Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: idk how it is with you but weather is so shit right now, I’m in a stormy mood

summary: you’re in the car with Matty but you have to pull over cause it’s storming too bad, now you have to spend your time otherwise

content warning: stormy weather, swearing, smoking, p in v, dry humping, fingering

────────────────────────

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.- Edward Bulwer-Lytton

You’ve been on the road for two hours now and still not at Matty‘s house. Usually it takes 50 minutes but it’s already 9pm and you lost all hope that you’ll arrive today.

„Oh for fucks sake,“ Matty cusses, hitting the steering wheel at the third red light in a row.

The rain is still pleasant, the windshield wipers are still set to the slowest setting but the clouds are thickening and getting darker while the sky is turning black.

„You’ve got to be joking,“ his right hands comes up to his face, to rub his forehead and sigh out. The second the light turns green you expect that you can drive immediately, however the driver in front of you doesn’t move at all.

„Start driving you wanker,“ Matty honks and screams at the driver ironically because he can’t hear him. You giggle at his impatience. Driving for a long time in the rain is annoying, especially when you’re not the only one on the road, having to stop a lot.

„Relax,“ your hand squeezes his thigh, resting there, which pulls Matty out of his angry state.

Matty’s hand comes on top of yours, his thumb rubbing slow patterns on your skin. „Sorry love, just wanna get home.“ He brings your hand to his mouth kissing every knuckle.

„Your hands are fucking freezing,“ he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails are turning blue. „I already turned the heating to 71 Fahrenheit.“

He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.

„My hands are always cold but it’s worse when it’s storming outside, I don’t know,“ you shrug, „I feel the cold.“ You wink at the parallel to ‘girls.‘

Matty snorts at you quoting him. “Fuck off.” He shrugs his jacket off with one hand, keeping the other steady on the wheel. He drapes it over your lap, its warmth immediately soothing. “S’ should help.”

“Thanks Matty,” your heart swells with affection as you look at him.

The rain began as a light sprinkle, but now it is pouring, the sky dark and heavy with clouds. You glance over at Matty, his hand firm on the wheel, while the other still holds your hand, eyes focused on the road. The windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the rain, swishing back and forth.

“I don’t like this weather,” you admit, goosebumps spreading all over your body, shuddering at the dark road in front of you.

The storm outside intensifies, lightning flashes across the sky. You tense, trying to ignore the unease creeping up your spine. Matty's thumb strokes your hand in slow, soothing circles.

"It's just a storm," he says softly, his voice calm.

You nod, trying to relax. Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder booms overhead, shaking the car. You flinch, your hand tightening on Matty's thigh.

“Easy there, love. If you squeeze any harder, I might not be able to drive properly.” He jokes, glancing over at you for a second to make sure you’re actually alright.

“Caught me off guard, sorry.” You pull your hand from him but he finds your wrist to keep it on his thigh.

“It’s just a bit of weather,” he reassures, “nothing I can’t handle.” He has a smug grin on his face but you’re not really in the mood to smile at his jokes, feeling like the road is getting more slippery.

Right now you’re driving through the -well known- forest road which takes up to 20 minutes to drive all the way through. There is nothing but dark trees beside you, the lightnings lighting up the green color only for a split second.

Matty doesn’t seem really bothered by the weather, only annoyed that the ride back takes so long. You are too. The thought of laying in bed with Matty- a warm bed- makes you more excited to finally arrive. If you arrive.

“Love, you’ve gone quiet there,” he observes, your grip on his thigh also a bit loose. “Does the weather bother you this much?” He tries to find any concerns written in your face but it’s gotten also very dark in the car, just outlines to recognize.

You nod, hiding both of your hands under Matty’s jacket on your lap. “Maybe we should pull over, wait till it’s a bit better?” you suggest, your voice barely above a whisper, barely audible over the roar of the rain hitting the car.

“I wouldn’t mind to keep driving, you’re the scared one,” a smile tugs at his lips, “say the word and I’ll pull over.”

You flip him off and turn your head to observe the weather. You can’t see anything besides when the surrounding lights up. You hear however a lot, which is making you fucking crazy.

“Pull over?” You ask, turning your head back to Matty, who is already nodding and pulling to the side of the road. You didn’t see a single car in front or behind you since you’ve been on the forest road, but Matty turns on the hazard lights anyway.

“Anything for my girl,” he remarks, stopping the engine, the rain getting louder. “Didn’t know you hate storms so much.”

Matty leans back, his hand reaching into his hoodie pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. With a casual flick of his wrist, he flips open the lid, revealing the neatly lined rows of slender white sticks. He selects one and deftly tucks it between his lips, his movements smooth and practiced.

Then he pulls out his lighter, tugging the packet away. With a quick motion, he sparks the flame to life, holding it steady as he brings it to the end of the cigarette. The flame dances and flickers, casting fleeting shadows across his face as he takes a long drag, the tip glowing bright orange with each inhale.

You watch him, unable to tear your eyes away as he exhales a plume of smoke, the scent hanging heavy in the air between you. There's something undeniably alluring about the way he handles the cigarette, a sense of ease and confidence that draws you in despite yourself.

You unbuckle yourself and pull your feet up, Matty’s jacket wrapping around yourself, trying to keep you warm.

Matty takes a long drag, the ember pulsing with each inhale. He exhales slowly, the smoke swirling around him in lazy tendrils. “You know,” he says, his voice low and husky, "there's something about the quiet of the forest at night. It's like being in a whole other world.”

“Weirdo,” you laugh which is quickly replaced by a quiet inhaling sound when another roaring of a thunder is passing through the air. You shudder, your hands shaking in your lap.

“What are you on about,” he asks, taking the last drag of the cigarette before opening the car door, letting the cold air fill the car, to throw the end of his cigarette outside. “You’re still shaking.” He states.

Matty too unbuckles himself now, rolls his seat back and adjusts it so that there is more space in the footwell. Then he empties his pocket and puts his lighter, his cigarettes and his phone on the front of the desk.

You’re curious on what he’s planning, drowning out the sounds of the storm with watching Matty’s curls fall into his face when he looks around him to check if everything’s alright.

“Come here,” he finally says, pulling his jacket off of you to grab your arm.

“Matty,” you roll your eyes, thinking he’s just going to tease you about freezing and scaring your ass off.

“Come here,” he repeats, spreading his legs a bit, “m’not joking, hate to see my girl freezing.”

That does it. You climb over the console, wrapping each leg on each side of Matty, lowering yourself onto him, onto his warm body. You sigh contently, your head immediately resting on his shoulder.

Matty wraps the jacket he pulled off of you over your shoulders again, doing everything he can to keep you from turning into an ice block.

“There we go,” he feels you relax as his fingers brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, not from the cold, but from the electrifying touch of his fingertips. You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze, a silent exchange of longing and affection passing between you.

He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours.

You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. One second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to pull you against him, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.

When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far. “Don’t seem so scared now.”

You hit his chest playfully before leaning in again to brush your lips against his. “Want me to make you forget about the storm? S’that it?” He asks between kisses, his hands resting on your hips, giving them a light squeeze when you bite his lower lip slightly. You just nod, too busy to answer him.

“Say it to my face darling, you haven’t got that tongue for nothing,“ he grabs your ass and starts to help your body grind against his growing bulge. You’re already clenching against nothing, huffing and puffing as Matty‘s lips travel down your neck and licking wet stripes on the sensitive skin there.

“Distract me Matty,“ you whisper, head falling back as Matty keeps sucking on your neck.

“Anything‘ for my girl,“ he growls in your ear, biting your earlobe gently right after, thus causing you to shiver.

Your hips stir over his, and Matty audibly groans. At last, he drops a palm to your ass and gives it a taut smack, and your whole lower half reverberates with the sensation—and a welt of pleasure.

“Fucking hell,“ he groans, your hips rolling over his again, this time with more pressure. His fingers trail from your thighs up to your pants opening your zipper. “Lift your hips for me,“ he pleads, puppy eyes looking up at you. “S‘ too tight in here,“ he mumbles.

You lift your hips, letting Matty pull your pants down, leaving your panties on before slamming you down onto him again. The friction of his jeans is now rubbing against your clit perfectly making you gasp into his mouth. “Needy little thing,” he hisses as you rock yourself on his bulge.

Matty slots his hand between your legs to rub against that dampened patch of fabric. You almost jump. His fingers slip beneath your panties and make swift, easy contact with your heat. You bury your face in the crook of his neck to try to muffle the sounds that are clawing their way out of your chest, while your hips tilted up.

“So wet f’me,” your hips rock back and forth over his fingers—sliding the two digits in and out of your cunt with each motion. He works his free arm under your body and pinches hard on one nipple, eliciting a soft moan of ‘Matty’ above him.

“Love your tits,” he has a boyish grin on his face, acting like it’s the first time he has touched your boobs.

“Oh, baby,” he breathes, watching you rut your hips for more friction, “use my hand to make yourself feel good— that’s my girl.”

If you would still be grinding on his bulge instead of fingers, he would’ve cum seconds ago, you’re messy hair and flushed cheeks enough to pull him over the edge as well as the friction on his cock.

“Matty,” His fingers curl up and hit that sweet spot inside you, your barriers beginning to crack with each thrust of his fingers.

“Make a mess baby,” he encourages, keeping the same pace hitting your sport, “show me how good you feel.”

Your hips are grinding erratically, Matty’s tongue is pressed against your neck, and your clit is twitching. Sparks linger in your vision as your eyes fly open and find lust-darkened orbs, watching you fall over the edge of your orgasm.

“That’s perfect,” he hums, kissing you while you’re riding out your orgasm, “always so good for me.” He pulls his fingers from you, a whine leaving your lips, your head falling back against his chest which is heavily moving up and down.

He takes his fingers into his mouth groaning around the sweet taste of you, “need to be inside you right now,” he groans, opening his belt. Your hand swats his away and he throws his head back, a grin on his face when you first palm him through his jeans.

“Baby don’t-“ he begs, his hips involuntarily thrusting up to meet your hand, “don’t want to fucking cum in my pants like a pathetic teenager.”

You listen and lift your hips again to pull his pants and boxers down, freeing his hard cock which is leaking with pre-cum.

You don’t waste another second. You wrap a hand around his length, slowly sinking onto him. Your cunt stretching around him and you both grown into each others mouth as the pleasure hits you. Matty pulls you into a kiss again, trying to keep his sounds as quiet as possible.

“You feel so good,” he has his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. You feel him hit your sweet spot as you make your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.

“Fucking knock yourself out,” you can’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. You feel a slight burning in your thighs and you know Matty’s shoulders hold tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip has become. You feel one of Matty’s hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.

His cock twitches inside of you and he holds your hips down for a second, preventing him from coming too soon. When you lift your hips again he lets out a guttural sound, bunch of ‘baby’s’ leaving his mouth.

He grabs your chin, making you look him in the eyes. You look at him and grin, fucked out and eager before he thrusts up into you. “Close,” you whisper and he nods, “fuck,” is all he can say.

You rake your fingernails down his tattooed chest, lowering only to reach back behind yourself, and grab his thighs. Adjusting yourself before dropping back down and bouncing on his cock, feeling him repeatedly strike a deep spot within you that causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

Fuck, you felt absolutely incredible around him, and not only that, but you looked beautiful the entire time. Breasts bouncing in that tight pullover, ass jiggling, and repeatedly smacking into his thighs, slightly sweaty with the scent of sex tainting each other's bodies.

Your hips rocking at your own pace, it was starting to become unbearable on Matty’s side of things. His hips were trembling to the sound of your wet folds struggling to take him all the way down to the base.

“Let go darling,” His tongue slides into your mouth, parting your lips as the rough skin of his thumb rubbed rough circles against your clit.

The new sensation is enough to drive you over the edge, and Matty is watching your body tense and tighten. The feeling of you squeezing around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm, his thrusts stuttering as he continued to ride out yours.

“Christ,” he shudders, prepping kisses all over your face, his cock softening inside of you. “How are you feeling love?” You giggle at his attempt to focus his attention but he looks just as fucked out. Pupils dilated, curls sticking to his face and his chest flushed.

“Very good Matty,” you offer him a smile, sliding off of him, pulling your pants up and get Matty dressed before sitting down on him again. “Sorry,” you say, suggesting to his stained pants but he just chuckles, kissing you, rubbing your lower back.

“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he hums, your hand finding its way to his hair, wrapping a finger around his curls, “it’s wickedly hot.”

“And look at that,” he looks outside, only small thuds of rain hitting the window, most of the storm having passed. “Can finally drive home and take proper care of you.”

You get off of him, climbing back over the console to sit down in the passenger seat, fixing your clothes the right way and wrapping his jacket back around your thighs.

You lean your head over to give his cheek a gentle kiss and then resting your head on his shoulder.

The drive back is way more relaxed, no thunder, no lighting, you can finally drive your attention to Matty and his singing skills to ‘teenage dream’ by Katy Perry.

#the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy fluff #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader

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padfootagain · 3 days

Text

Only an Almost (XIII)

Chapter 13: Decisions

Hi! Here comes a new chapter! We are reaching the heights of the angst… next chapter. So, buckle up, we’re up for a wild ride…

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 1982

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

“Andy, honey… can you take a pic from up there? Down the river. Try to centre it on the bridge…”

Andrew followed his mother’s instructions, climbed on the bench by the docks that ran along the Liffey, aimed the camera the best he could, took a couple of pictures.

“Is that alright?” he asked his mother to check the pictures, handing her the camera.

“Perfect! Thank you, honey.”

They resumed their walk down the river, Raine’s camera secured around her neck. He offered his mother his arm, and she took it with a tender smile.

“This is such a lovely afternoon, isn’t it?” she said after a moment of comfortable silence.

The sky was grey but there was no rain in sight. Dublin was busy with life, as it always was. The murmur of cars passing in adjacent streets and boulevards mingled with the cries of a few seagulls who had flew up along the river from the sea. It was early in the afternoon still, right after lunch-hours, and the docks were empty of people, except for the occasional joggers and their loud earphones, the parents and their children, the lovely couples. It wasn’t too warm, nor too windy. There was a sweet scent coming from a nearby bakery.

“Yeah, it is lovely,” Andrew nodded.

“Thanks for coming with me today and helping me with the pictures.”

“I’m expecting some kind of reward for such hard work,” he joked, making his mother laugh wholeheartedly.

“That may be arranged… if you come for lunch on Sunday.”

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

“Jon is coming too, with his partner.”

“Lovely.”

“You can ask Y/N to come, if you want to.”

“Mom…”

Andrew shook his head, growing annoyed already.

“Y/N and I aren’t together. I’ve told you…”

“I know, I know. You have that… casual thing going on. No progress on that then?”

Andrew grew quiet, pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he thought of an answer.

“I don’t know,” he answered earnestly. “I’m fucking lost.”

Raine waited patiently for her son to speak again.

“I… It’s like… I don’t know what she wants. Sometimes it’s just so… nice. Like we’re moving forward, like we’re getting closer to being an actual couple. And the next second she’s cold and just…”

“One step forward, two steps back…”

“Yeah, something like that. Back to square one. I don’t know what to do. I just… I can’t believe she feels nothing at all. There was this one time I talked to a woman in a pub… she was fucking jealous. I stayed over night and it was so… intimate. Really. It wasn’t just casual. And we have so much fun together, like… we really have a lot of moments when we are truly happy. But then, the other day, she just ran off like laying in bed with me for five minutes might kill her.”

He heaved a deep sigh.

“I don’t know. I’m lost. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I should do, and I don’t know what I want either.”

“Don’t you? Know what you want?”

“I mean… I do know. But she doesn’t want that.”

“Have you told her how you feel?”

“No… I don’t think she would react well.”

It was Raine’s turn to heave a sigh.

“If the two of you don’t want the same thing… you can’t stay with her. You’ll get hurt, Andrew. Do you understand?”

“Of course… don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” he fought back, being harsher than he meant.

He felt guilty as soon as the words passed his lips, and so he tightly closed them.

“You need to talk to her,” his mother insisted, ignoring her son’s irritation. “It’s the only way out. Communication is key.”

“I know.”

“But?”

“But if I do, and she rejects me…”

He let his words suspended in mid-air, to hover between them. But Raine soon let out a low chuckle.

“Andy… You can’t have happiness without sorrow; love without pain; satisfaction without risks… it’s never one or the other. It’s always both. If she rejects you, you’ll have to learn how to live with it, the way we all do.”

“I don’t know how to live without her. And I don’t think I want to find out.”

Slowly, she nodded.

“You must really love her,” was her only answer.

His throat tightened, he could feel that he was welling up too.

“Yeah… yeah…”

“I have to admit… I don’t understand her,” Raine went on.

She stopped their walk so they could sit on the bench there, facing the river. It wasn’t the nicest part of the docks, but it was quiet, and someone near was blowing soap bubbles with their daughter. They flew up catching the light of the hidden sun, iridescent and fragile as they rod on the wind. They both looked at the bubbles while they spoke.

“What do you mean?” asked Andrew.

“I mean… I’ve always thought that she felt the same as you did. That one day your lives would finally align, and you’d end up together. Married even.”

“Were you already choosing baby names for us?” Andrew laughed.

“I have a whole list,” she joked, and they both laughed for a moment, despite all the pain held in this conversation. “I don’t know… I thought she loved you.”

“I don’t know… sometimes I have hope. Sometimes she pushes me away so much, I wonder if she doesn’t hate me a little.”

“Hate you?”

“Or is ashamed of me, perhaps.”

“Why would she be ashamed of you? You’re a good man. You truly are a good and kind person. There will never be a day when I am not infinitely proud of who you’ve become.”

“God, mom, stop… that’s enough…” Andrew protested, blushing all the way to the top of his ears and shifting uncomfortably on their bench.

Raine merely smiled fondly at him.

“I don’t know,” Andrew went on. “I don’t understand what she wants.”

“This can’t go on forever.”

Slowly, he nodded. Daphne’s words echoed in his mind.

“You’re right. I need to talk to her.”

“I’m your mother. I’m always right!”

They laughed again, brighter and merrier than before. They remained there for a long while, chatting, the conversation drifting towards the rest of their family, this new recipe for a blueberry pie she wanted to try, this song he was working on.

When he offered to go for tea before going home, Andrew was fully aware of how lucky he was to have her by his side.

The hike was nice, although the weather was unsteady. But then again, it always was in Ireland.

Andrew wanted to wait until you would reach the lake to talk. First Daphne, then his mother… he couldn’t push back that moment any longer.

You had talked about your work while you walked, then about the wedding. It was coming closer, only a couple of months left. Soon, it would be time to try on the dresses and suits, settle on the flavour for the cake.

You were growing a little annoyed though. It was visible that he was only half-listening to you, barely participating in the conversation. Still, you didn’t say a thing, merely pouting and frowning a little. You were adorable, as always…

“Ha, there it is! Let’s take a break!” he offered as you finally reached the shore of the lake.

You plopped down in the grass as an answer, further away from the trail so as not to be disturbed if more people were coming this way. Andrew soon joined you.

“Alright, what snacks for today?” he asked, making you roll your eyes.

“You know you can bring your own snacks…”

“They’re better if I steal them from you!”

You chuckled, handing him some biscuits and some grapes.

“As sweet as you,” he teased, biting in one of the fruits and shooting you a wink that brough fire to your skin.

“Smooth,” you said with irony dripping from your voice.

He laughed, biting on his biscuit instead. His favourites. He wondered if you knew how much he loved them. You often carried these when you hiked together.

There was a long silence, and Andrew was visibly nervous. He had a lot of courage to gather, and a lump in his throat that needed to be swallowed back, so he could finally talk to you.

“Andy? Spit it out.”

He looked up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Whatever it is that got you so worked up… spit it out. You’re killing me.”

He clenched his jaw, set his gaze on the lake. Peaceful. Tiny ripples brought by the wind. Rocks and grass and wildflowers staining its shores. There were some birds over there, on a tiny rock, right on the edge of the water. He wondered what kind of birds they were, all shades of grey and white and black…

“I just… I think we should talk.”

“We have talked,” you fought back, defensive already.

“Y/N…”

“Look, Andy… things are simple. We don’t need to talk about this more. We agreed that this would be casual, just sex, no attach. If you don’t want to do that anymore, we can stop.”

“I don’t want us to stop…”

“What do you want then?”

You.

But if he said it, he knew you would run. He could see it in your eyes now. Somehow, he just knew you would fly away like these birds on the shore of the lake, that you would disappear in the sky, never to be seen again.

“I just want you to answer one question.”

“Go on.”

“What do you want from me?”

You were so taken aback by his question, you were left silent, with lips parted and brows furrowed.

“What… what do you mean?” you stuttered back.

“What do you want from me? This… this is temporary. At one point, we’ll either become more than friends, or go back to being in a friendly zone. Which one will it be?”

You huffed, clearly uncomfortable, shifting your weight.

“I don’t know. How could I know that?”

“I know.”

“And what do you want?”

“I asked first.”

“I asked second.”

“No. No, Y/N. You’re not allowed to turn that around.”

“Why not? Why are you asking this anyway? You’re always… wanting to plan, wanting to make this evolve… why can’t things just remain how they are?”

Because I’m in love with you.

But Andrew couldn’t say that. He settled for what seemed like the next best thing.

“Because I care about you. And because nothing ever stays the same. Things always change.”

He was surprised by your sudden anger. How you got to your feet in a jolt. How you started packing back your snacks.

“Y/N…”

“I don’t fucking know, okay?! What do you want me to tell you, Andy? It was never meant to be more than an arrangement. What else could I say?”

“It means more than that to me.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to make of your silence. Because if no words were coming out of your mouth, tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes.

And his heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, but he didn’t back down. He stared, and waited, for an answer that never came.

Instead, you kept on packing. And then you were off to the trail without a word. He followed you, eventually, walking behind you in silence. It started to rain, about halfway down the trail to get back to the carpark. You reached his car in silence, drenched and miserable.

You didn’t speak for a few days, until an olive branch was offered to him, in the shape of an invitation to the cinema.

He ended up in your bed that night, but when it was over and done, he didn’t stay.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #series

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damagedcoda6669 · 2 days

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just wanted to let you know real quick that the person sending people your deadname + stuff about that one stealthygeek person has spread to tumblr, i literally just got an anonymous ask in my inbox with it. all i did was sigh in deep deep exasperation and delete it. why can't people leave you alone

i rlly appreciate ppl letting me know abt this!!! but in all honesty theres nothing i can do, and i already know. when i said not 2 send me birdie drama related asks, it includes thingz like this, becuz this is an attempt at a continuation of birdie drama by the ppl perpetrating this. i wouldnt like 2 be alerted abt this becuz its genuinely out of my control and i honestly dont intend 2 spread awareness abt this going forward. these ppl thrive off of attention and it wont do any good. block n ignore. this is the last time im talking abt it publicly. in the kindest way possible, these kind of reminders only serve 2 make me paranoid and anxious and dysphoric. ive gotten another ask sending me a sc of one of these asks with my deadname uncensored that i saw a few mins ago, and ik it will have a severe effect on my mental state. PLEASE PLEASE be mindful of my mental state with the thingz that u say 2 me, becuz i will see all of it. plz only tell me abt these things if ur 100% sure i can do smth 2 stop it, ive been scared 2 check my notifs all day becuz of the possibility of smth dumb like this happening while i was away (which isnt ur fault) i know u have good intentions but plz be aware of my mental state and how these things effect me. im in a bad mental state already and i have no therapist/psychiatrist/doctor 2 go 2 if i go off the deep end, and im currently unmedicated and not in the mental health system due 2 circumstances out of my control /nm /gen

theres nothing i can do abt my deadname being spread around, i was doxxed when i was 12 and im still being lolcowed on kiwifarms 2 this day. its public information and theres nothing i can do. the only course of action is 2 ignore. nothing theyre doing is illegal (4 the most part lol) so theres no action 2 take except 4 withdrawing attention /gen

edit: i rlly hope i didnt come across as aggressive in this post at all, i genuinely mean no harm towards the ppl telling me abt this and im not mad at u guys!!! im very thankful 4 the concern, but theres genuinely nothing i can do in this situation and the only outcome of this is a broken mental state 4 me. i feel icky being negative again but i just want my boundaries 2 be known!!! so srry :(

#jack.txt #birdie #damagedcoda6669 #vent #rant #vent post #tw vent

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peachkkuma · 3 days

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ᰍִ ۫͟ ͟ ☁️ ִ✧ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

hello, I’m Tiffany and this is my manifestation diary! If you haven’t read my previous diary entries yet, recently I’ve come to the realization that I’ve overcome all of my obstacles and there truly is nothing in my way except for me. So I made the decision yesterday to put my foot down and take the leap of faith, in other words, stop putting off manifesting my dream life because of fear. now this account will hold not just my diary entries but also the documentation of my journey to finally and seriously manifest my dream life.

╰┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄ ♡ ♡ ♡ 05.21.2024

let’s begin!

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐈. ⊰ ۫ 🐻‍❄️ ◌ ִ ੭ ˑ DEFINING THE OBJECTIVE

I want to make the end goal a bit more clear, the term dream life is both pretty straightforward and a bit vague. what would I like my dream life to include? how would my dream life make me feel? and ofc, I’m not just manifesting my dream life, I’m manifesting my dream self. what would my self concept be? how would I like to be?

tiffany’s dream life check list - what it means to live my dream life

attend my dream school

be 100% perfectly healthy (physically, mentally, emotionally, in every way basically)

have good eating habits and a good relationship with food

have perfect straight A pluses (revision to previous grades as well)

have the perfect friend group for me

healthy, super soft, hydrated, moisturized, smooth clear skin (and elimination of acne genes) (body + face)

perfect tangle free hair at all times, pretty, voluminous, bombshell hair

a healthy, perfect, loving relationship with everyone in my family

own a super cute and fluffy golden retriever puppy

high paying jobs for my parents <3

have a rolls royce with a pink exterior

grow taller

have every single clothing item I’ve saved on Pinterest

have my YouTube channel blow up

complete head to toe desired appearance

desired lifestyle

perfect eyesight

be super good at makeup and have all desired products

have a gorgeous bedroom

have a very active and lively social life

have the perfect, most ideal school, social, and home life

completely healed phone addiction

have a lot of desired hobbies that I’m very good at

have a fun and eventful life, always have fun plans and something going on

be on the right track career-wise

elimination of social anxiety and shyness

high self esteem and confidence

be more in touch with my culture

be a complete master at manifestation

huh, this is shorter and less serious than I thought it’d be, ig this was also a way of getting out of my own head. I thought manifesting my dream life would be a bit challenging for some reason, but ig a dream life rlly isn’t as complex as I thought it was. I mean now I feel silly, it’s just a dream life! nothing more than a lifestyle and a few personal fixes. I feel like I just got humbled.

𝐈𝐈. ʚ ⊹ ִ⏲️ 𑁯͟ ɞ THE OUTLINE

alright, I know what I want and I know how manifestation works. but just to make sure I don’t over complicate anything or things dont get confusing, I’ll create a sort of plan or outline. Little steps I can fall back on if I get a bit lost.

step number one we have covered, have a desire

step number two, put your foot down and make the firm decision that you have it. this decision is for good, nothing u do can take this decision away so don’t u dare worry about “ruining progress” or “messing up”— u’re better than that.

step number three, once you’ve decided it’s done, it’s done. the only and I mean it when I say only thing for you to do is to act like it. imagine you, the creator of your reality, making the decision that you have something only to then be like “is it coming?” “do I have it?” BE FR!! act like you have it, think like you have it, and see the world as if you have it— because you do. you decided you did, didn’t u? It’s ur reality, what u say, goes. and no, you’re not acting like u have it to get something out of the 3D, you’re doing it for your sanity. Because you deserve a break, you deserve relief, you deserve to be the you that has it all!! let yourself be in the sowf because why shouldn’t u be certain you have it? don’t entertain anything that says u don’t. getting in the sowf is easy, u deciding u have it is all the confirmation u need. there’s no reason for u to not be certain u have it.

sowf = knowing that u have it

step number four, optional not necessary but it’s really gonna help and is fun. immerse yourself in the new story. experience it!! have fun!! u finally got what u want, u finally r who u want to be, so choose to live that life!! try methods for the sake of fulfilling urself (never to make anything appear in the 3D, u know better, 3D desperation doesn’t get anybody anywhere.) try out methods to have fun and be more familiar with having what u want.

that’s it girl, that’s all u gotta do, that’s all u ever had to do. decide it, experience it, assume it. u don’t always have to feel “good” or “happy” u just have to know u have what u want, u just have to assume. the goal is to truly know that u have it, to be faced with the 3D and still know it in ur bones u have what u want. u deserve to trust urself like that, u deserve to be fulfilled like that, and u deserve those things from YOU not from the 3D. U deserve to feel secure in urself, don’t let ur security come from the 3D. loa bloggers mean it when they say the materialization is simply the cherry on top and I get that now. For me, it’s about being able to depend and trust urself, to rely on urself, and in that way everything else comes off the pedestal.

✉️ : ahhh I forgot to finish up this post yesterday but here it is!! I’m so excited!! part two to come soon ♡

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crimsonstonetranslations · 3 days

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Shinrei Tantei Yakumo Another Files - Lamenting Doll - file 01

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo novel translation

Another Files - Lamenting Doll file 01 - cries of the dead

- 1

- Scratch.

Scratch— Such noises could be heard.

They were strange noises, akin to sharp nails clawing against a wooden board. Shizuko couldn’t tell whether those sounds were merely a dream or reality.

Yet soon enough, Shizuko slowly opened her eyes as she remained lying in bed. Cold, bluish moonlight shone through the window and into the dark room.

Scratch. The noise continued.

So it wasn’t a dream after all. What was that noise?

Shizuko held her breath as she listened carefully. Scratch scratch.

It sounded like it came from below the veranda, but it also seemed like it could be from the ceiling. Perhaps some kind of rat or pest eating through the boards.

Let’s just check it tomorrow. She rolled over to lie against her back. At that moment, something touched the tip of her nose.

What? Shizuko opened her eyes in reflex.

A black shadow appeared to have hovered over her. The shadow resembled a human figure wearing a kimono, its obi hanging loose.

Then— Two eyes gazed intently towards Shizuko from above.

Widely opened, they were the colour of blood. Shizuko wanted to scream, but her voice refused to come out.

Her body froze and she couldn’t get up. She could feel the weight of the shadow across her entire body. Shizuko’s forehead flooded with sweat.

Her hairs stood on end, back shivering. Those eyes—they remained locked on Shizuko.

Except for its eyes, its body appeared entirely black, as if painted over, making it impossible to tell whether the entity was young or old, male or female. “O…er…ere…” said the black shadow.

Shizuko couldn’t understand what it had said. Even so, the words sounded terrifying against her ears. What on earth—?!

Shizuko concentrated on her throat, desperate to let out her voice. Yet somehow, her voice refused to leave.

Her body was stiff, entirely unable to move a muscle as if she was being crushed by something. The black shadow stared at Shizuko for some time before disappearing moments later.

That instant, Shizuko’s body relaxed, as if the stiffness she had just felt had never happened in the first place. At last, Shizuko could finally sit up. She turned to the direction the shadow had disappeared to.

The shadow went into the parchment scroll hanging on the wall and vanished without so much of a sound. The eyes of the person depicted in that parchment appeared to overlap with the eyes that had been looking at Shizuko earlier.

Shizuko could only remain dumbfounded. -

2 -

The gently blowing wind felt humid. Having finished her afternoon class, Ozawa Haruka walked past the back of Building B with light-footed steps.

She was going to see Saitou Yakumo. Not that she had any business in particular. Tomorrow marked the start of their long university break, so Haruka thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to show her face beforehand.

Come to think of it, this was an amazing progress. Just not too long ago, Haruka had only ever come to see Yakumo if it had something to do with a case.

Because of that, Yakumo had labelled her as a troublemaker. It was only recently that she was able to visit the man with no hesitation despite lacking any reason to do so. Well, Haruka was probably the only one who didn’t mind, while Yakumo would feel annoyed. Even so, nothing would change if she kept worrying over such things.

Moments later, a two-storey prefabricated building came into sight. Each floor of the building had a row of ten or so rooms the university lended out as circle clubrooms.

Yakumo practically lived in the room situated at the very end of the first floor, a clubroom labelled the <Movie Research Circle>. To begin with, the Movie Research Circle didn’t actually exist. No, to be more precise, Yakumo and Haruka were the only actual members of the circle.

The other members were merely names Yakumo had borrowed to fulfil the requirements when submitting paperwork to the student affairs office. Yakumo had cunningly tricked the university to get the room all to himself.

“Hey—” greeted Haruka as she opened the door to the Movie Research Circle clubroom. “Oh, it’s you,” replied Yakumo. He sat on his usual chair as he acted all troubled.

He had a fair complexion and a good-looking face, yet his eyes always looked sleepy, his hair unkempt as if he had just woken up, making him appear disorganised. Haruka had first known Yakumo due to a spiritual case.

Though he usually hid it with a black contact lens, Yakumo’s left eye was actually a vibrant red colour. It wasn’t just red, the eye also had the ability to see spirits of the dead—in other words, ghosts.

With that ability of his, Yakumo hadn’t only resolved the spiritual case Haruka had brought, he had even brought a previously undiscovered murder case to light. Ever since then, they had been involved in a number of spiritual cases together.

Unfortunately, a significant number of said cases had been brought by Haruka. Thanks to that, Yakumo kept calling Haruka a troublemaker and constantly voiced his complaints whenever he had the chance to. “What kind of reaction was that? Even though I came all the way here,” said Haruka with a displeased tone on purpose. But Yakumo wasn’t the type to be perplexed by Haruka’s actions and make an attempt to lighten her mood.

“I never asked you to,” said Yakumo unabashedly, staring at Haruka through half-lidded eyes. Even without putting it into words, Haruka knew those eyes were questioning her, ‘what sort of trouble are you bringing this time?’

“Just so you know, I’m not bringing you any trouble today,” said Haruka as she sat on a chair across from Yakumo. “If not for trouble, why did you come here?”

“No reason. I’m just curious what you’re up to.” “It’s really unpleasant having to be watched by you.”

A harsh thing to say, but Yakumo had always been acting this way. Haruka had used to be unhappy about it in the beginning, but she had gotten used to it now. She wouldn’t be able to respond to Yakumo’s banter if she were to be offended easily.

“Well, sorry about that.” “If you knew that much, why don’t you hurry up and leave?”

“What even?” “I said, I don’t have time to entertain the likes of someone who has nothing to do,” grumbled Yakumo before glaring at the chessboard on the table.

“What are you doing?” asked Haruka. Yakumo raised his left eyebrow and pointed at the chessboard. “What do you think this is?”

“A chessboard.” “So you do know?”

“Anyone would’ve known that much.” “Then I ask you this: what idiot would use a chessboard for something other than to play chess?”

He could’ve just said that he was playing chess, yet he had to twist his words in that manner. Furthermore, that wasn’t what Haruka had intended to ask.

Could chess even be played with one player? That was what she had meant. Haruka wanted to emphasise the fact, but she was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

She turned to find a face she recognised. “Isshin-san!”

“Haruka-chan. It’s been a while.” Standing there with a compassionate, Buddha[1]-like smile was Yakumo’s uncle, Isshin.

He was the person who had chosen Yakumo’s name as well as raised him. Clad in monk robes, his dignified appearance and wise manner of speech gave him the impression of someone much older, despite only being in his thirties.

Since Yakumo’s mother had disappeared, Isshin had had to become the one to raise Yakumo. He had been in his twenties at the time, so he had to have struggled to do so in place of Yakumo’s parents, yet he hadn’t let it show. Furthermore, Isshin’s left eye was also red, just like Yakumo.

Even so, the colour wasn’t genuine. The opposite of Yakumo, he wore a red contact lens on purpose. It was concrete proof of the depth of Isshin’s love. He had purposely made himself be seen strangely in an attempt to understand Yakumo’s feelings, even if just a fraction of it, by experiencing the same suffering as Yakumo.

“You two get along well as usual,” said Isshin as he nodded repeatedly. Haruka felt flustered over being described so warmly, vaguely responding, “No, that...”

On the other hand, Yakumo began to complain, “Never have I ever thought that I would be mistaken to get along well with the likes of her,” Haruka felt like crying over the difference between her reaction and Yakumo’s.

“So, what did Uncle come here for?” asked Yakumo lazily. While she felt Yakumo’s words were unbecoming towards the uncle who had raised him, Haruka had more or less the same thought. It was in fact unusual for Isshin to come visit Yakumo in his room like this.

“Hm,” Isshin nodded, taking a seat next to Haruka before opening his mouth. “Actually, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you—” How rare for Isshin to have something to discuss with Yakumo.

Unlike Haruka, tilting her head over what subject the man could possibly have wanted to discuss, Yakumo had a sour look on his face as if he knew what was up. “Someone from the families supporting the temple probably experienced a spiritual phenomenon, so Uncle wants me to settle it—something along those lines, right?”

Resting his chin on one arm, Yakumo made an annoyed expression. That mannerism somehow looked adorable.

“You certainly are well aware,” said Isshin in surprise, while he maintained his composure. “Uncle isn’t great at hiding things, after all. It all shows on Uncle’s face.”

“Perhaps you are right.” Isshin scratched his head with a troubled gesture as he laughed bitterly.

“Just what sort of spiritual phenomenon was it?” asked Haruka. Yakumo immediately interrupted, “Don’t ask unnecessary questions.”

“Why?” There shouldn’t be any harm in hearing him out first.

“After listening to it, I’ll definitely have no choice but to help.” —Right.

Yakumo didn’t actually like getting involved in supernatural affairs and would make all kinds of excuses not to do so, yet he had a trait of being unable to ignore those who were troubled. Such was the reason, despite numerous complaints each time, in the end he would reluctantly move and accept the request.

Not to mention that it was Isshin’s request, he certainly wouldn’t refuse after hearing the story. “Isshin-san, what happened?”

Yakumo let out an audible sigh and held his head. He didn’t try to stop Haruka, so Yakumo had probably intended to accept Isshin’s request from the start.

“So the truth is—” Isshin calmly opened his story, “along the Fuji River in Yamanashi Prefecture, there’s a sake brewery that has been passed down for generations since the Edo period.” “Yamanashi Prefecture?” asked Yakumo, his expression filled with suspicion.

“Yes. One of the families supporting my temple has an acquaintance from that sake brewery and they asked for my assistance,” Isshin replied calmly. “What happened there?” asked Haruka.

“Hm,” Isshin nodded once before continuing. “Apparently, as of late the woman called Shizuko-san who inherited that sake brewery is being disturbed by strange noises every night.” “Noises—”

“Yes. She said that at night as she slept, she would hear some sort of scratching noises.” “Couldn’t it just be a rat or something?” said Yakumo lazily.

“If it was nothing more than a noise, she might have the same idea. Shizuko-san did think it came from a rat at first, but—” said Isshin, briefly pausing his sentence. He probably meant nothing by it, yet Isshin’s tone of speech, light, slow, and overcomplicated, sent shivers down Haruka’s spine just by listening.

It felt more terrifying than the ghost stories she had watched on television. “She said that suddenly there was a shadow of a person standing beside her bed, whispering something to her.”

“If no one’s getting hurt, just leave it be,” said Yakumo as he held back a yawn. If a shadow were to stand beside her bed every day, Haruka wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully out of fear.

Yet to Yakumo, who could see ghosts all the time, ghosts that came and went were nothing more than a routine he had to go through. “Even so, something is definitely strange,” Isshin said with a troubled frown.

“Strange?” replied Yakumo with a question. Isshin nodded before continuing. “According to Shizuko-san, after the shadow whispered something to her, it always disappeared into a parchment scroll hanging on the wall.”

“Parchment scroll…?” “That’s right. In Shizuko-san’s room, there’s a parchment scroll hanging on the wall and there is a painting on that scroll.”

“In other words, the ghost came from that painting?” asked Haruka enthusiastically. “It’s yet to be confirmed. But from Shizuko-san’s story, I think it’s likely…” said Isshin before turning to Yakumo.

Lifting the left side of his lips, Yakumo grinned. “There’s nothing I can say just from the story…Besides, what was the strange thing that Uncle referred to earlier?” asked Yakumo. Isshin nodded in understanding. “Yesterday, I asked Shizuko to send a photo of the painting. Something felt off about the painting.”

“There’s something peculiar about the painting?” asked Yakumo, seemingly uninterested. “It’s an ancient Japanese painting, perhaps painted during the Edo period, but…well, rather than explaining it in words, it’ll be easier to understand if you see it for yourself,” said Isshin as he took out his phone and displayed the photo on the screen.

Yakumo stared at the screen. Hesitantly, Haruka also took a peek at the photo. “Eh?” blurted Haruka unintentionally as soon as the painting came into her field of vision.

Even the usually composed Yakumo was stunned, frowning his forehead, mouth half agape. The painting was of a man wearing a white kimono.

Despite the painting’s creation being estimated to date back in the Edo period, his hair appeared to be in disarray instead of tied into a bun. Standing still, the man could be mistaken for a ghost. Carrying a kongozue[2] over his shoulder, he gazed sharply forwards.

The mysterious painting emanated a powerful and daunting atmosphere, yet simultaneously a somewhat melancholic feel. What stood out in particular were the eyes of the man in the painting.

His eyes were dyed a bright red colour, almost like blood. “This...” Haruka muttered, yet she couldn’t find the words to continue.

“Either way, something is indeed strange about the person depicted in this painting. Hence I came to discuss it with you,” said Isshin, ending his explanation. Yakumo gave no reply, merely continuing to stare at the ancient looking painting.

Perhaps his thoughts were all over the place. If the ghost had really come out of the painting as Isshin had said, then it might have been the ghost of the figure in this painting.

Yakumo possessed a red left eye capable of seeing spirits of the dead. He had inherited this trait from his father. Even so, surely Yakumo’s father’s eyes hadn’t just turned red out of nowhere at some point.

To discover the identity of the person depicted in this painting might just be the same as unravelling Yakumo’s own origins. “So? Do you think you could look into the matter Shizuko-san is going through?” questioned Isshin as he threw a curious look towards Yakumo.

After a long silence, Yakumo exhaled a deep sigh. “I don’t mind looking into it, but I couldn’t tell anything without going directly to the scene.” “Can’t you tell anything just from this?” asked Haruka, and Yakumo grimaced.

“I can’t even tell whether a ghost is genuinely present just by looking at a photo of the painting.” “Well, that’s true…”

As Yakumo had said, he couldn’t tell anything without seeing things in person. “In that case, why don’t we go there to have a look? I’ll contact them,” said Isshin with a smile.

“I’m curious too, so I want to go,” said Haruka. Luckily, the university break starts tomorrow. Besides, she didn’t have anything planned. Her schedule was completely blank.

Travelling like this every now and then wouldn’t hurt. “Don’t tell me you’re coming too?” asked Yakumo to Haruka with a sour expression.

“It’s fine, right, Isshin-san?” Instead of Yakumo, Haruka turned to Isshin for approval.

As expected, Isshin responded lightly, “Of course.” Yakumo appeared displeased, yet he didn’t protest any further. “It’s fine if we go, but how are we going to get there?” said Yakumo, folding his arms.

They merely heard that the place was situated in Yamanashi Prefecture and had no idea of its exact location, but it had to take a long time to reach there. “That is certainly a problem. My car is currently under repairs since it broke...We could get there by train, but afterwards we would have to walk forty minutes from the nearest train station to the sake brewery.”

When living in the metropolitan area, travelling with trains would be a regular and convenient method. However, that wasn’t the case in the countryside. Many areas were hard to reach by public transport. Even merely going shopping became troublesome in the absence of a personal vehicle. Haruka’s hometown was no different.

“Perhaps we could rent a car?” suggested Haruka. “And you’re going to drive?” asked Yakumo, narrowing his eyes.

“Impossible...my driving licence is just for show...Ah, why don’t you drive, Yakumo-kun?” “I’ll have to pass.”

“Why?” “Ever since someone caused trouble along a mountain road, I refuse to drive.”

Fine, the someone Yakumo had mentioned was none other than Haruka. They had a bit of a dispute over a ghost that had appeared inside a tunnel along a mountain road. Come to think of it, Haruka had in fact never seen Yakumo drive since then.

“Well, it couldn’t be helped. I’ll drive instead,” said Isshin, but Yakumo stopped him. “Seems like that isn’t necessary.” “Hm?”

“Our driver is here.” Just what did Yakumo mean by that?

Haruka and Isshin tilted their heads when the door opened with a thud. “Pardon the intrusion.” A voice could be heard arriving with the sight of Gotou entering the room—

- 3

- “Dammit. Why do I have to send off and pick you guys up?” Gotou grumbled as he manipulated the steering wheel in the driver’s seat.

“It’s fine, isn’t it? Aren’t you free anyway?” Yakumo shrugged, sitting in the back seat acting as if he was the owner of the car. It was true that Gotou had a lot of free time.

Gotou was part of the Unsolved Cases Special Investigations Division, which fell under the Criminal Division. They were responsible for handling unsolved cases, often referred to as cold cases. It might sound promising, but Gotou’s true responsibility was to sort through documents of old cases. He would get called as backup if a high profile case was underway, but such chances were incredibly rare.

In other words, he was a member of the outcast. His partner, Ishii, must be diligently carrying out their duties at this moment, but to Gotou, their work was extremely boring.

Getting fed up over days of sorting documents on end, he came to visit Yakumo for a change of pace. The man hadn’t imagined that it would result in being asked to drive around like this. Since they haven’t gotten any proper cases lately, he didn’t mind so long as he didn’t get bored. Regardless, Gotou didn’t like to admit it out loud.

“Despite what it looks like, I have things on my plate too.” “Doesn’t look like it.”

“What did you say?” “Besides, it’s impossible for a bear whose only strength is to wander around like Gotou-san to be assigned work significant enough to keep one busy.”

Whenever Gotou opened his mouth, this always happened. After taking advantage of him as a substitute for a taxi, forget apologising, Yakumo was mocking him instead.

“If you don’t like it, you can get off here.” “Fine by me,” Yakumo calmly replied.

“What?” “But I won’t accept any more requests from Gotou-san. Just so you know.”

He always poked at other people’s weaknesses. So far, Gotou had borrowed Yakumo’s assistance for solving cases countless times.

All because Yakumo’s red left eye that could see spirits of the dead—ghosts—had come in handy amidst investigations. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason for Gotou to drag Yakumo to get involved in cases, but there was no point in debating that here.

“Fine, I understand. We’ll go, alright?” “Good to know that you understand,” Yakumo calmly nodded.

Haruka, who sat next to Yakumo, suppressed a laugh as she watched them banter. Gotou wanted to ask what was so funny, but decided not to. “So, where are we going?” asked Gotou towards Isshin, who sat on the front passenger seat.

Despite being asked to drive them to their destination, he hadn’t been informed of its location. “Make a turn just ahead, and proceed into highway 20.

Gotou turned at the crossroad Isshin had pointed to, and entered highway 20. “And then?”

“Ahead there will be the Chofu interchange, from there go towards Chuo—” “What?”

Gotou spontaneously raised his voice. “The Chuo expressway. Please take the descending path. Afterwards, go down at the Kofu Showa interchange...”

“Wait wait wait. Where on earth are you guys actually going?” They were roughly a hundred kilometres away from the Kofu Showa interchange.

“Where to? If we’re going down the Kofu Showa interchange, obviously we’re going to Yamanashi Prefecture,” said Isshin with a friendly smile. “I wasn’t aware that we’re travelling that far,” Gotou immediately protested.

Yet Isshin’s expression remained unchanged. “Is that so? I thought you already knew...” What nonsense.

Isshin and Yakumo were probably conspiring with each other, purposely keeping silent about their destination until Gotou agreed to drive for them with his car. His appearance may be all smiling and friendly, yet this man was actually cunning.

“So? Should we stop?” said Yakumo as he stretched his body. “What?”

“If Gotou-san refuses, we could simply take the train there. That said, I wouldn’t forget the treatment I got.” His words were borderline threatening.

Yakumo was practically declaring that he wouldn’t stop mocking Gotou if the detective refused now. “Fine, let’s go. Happy?” Gotou swore as they passed through the Chofu Interchange.

Pressing deeper on the gas pedal to accelerate the car, Gotou asked Isshin next to him, “What about your daughter?” Isshin had a seven-year-old daughter. Was it alright for him to travel so far, leaving her behind?

“Yes. Among my mentors, there’s a monk called Eishin who likes to care for people. I asked him to help.” “Does this happen often?”

“Because of my work, I often had to be away from home. Nao is used to it, too.” Contrary to his words, there was a hint of melancholy across Isshin’s face.

Unexpectedly, monk duties often demanded one to be away from home, such as carrying out funerals and memorial services. While it couldn't be helped, there had to be a part of him that felt dissatisfied. Not to mention Isshin’s daughter—Nao—aside from having hearing impairment, also had a complicated background.

Deep down, Isshin must have wanted to be by her side as much as possible. “In that case, let’s quickly settle things and come home,” said Gotou right as his phone rang.

He picked up the call with a hands-free device. “Who?”

<Ah, it’s me, Ishii Yuutarou.> Ishii’s hesitant voice could be heard.

Gotou came this far out of persuasion, but he had only just remembered that he hadn’t said anything to Ishii. “I know.”

<Uh...Detective Gotou. Where are you right now?> “I’ve just left Chofu, now going into Chuo.”

<Eh?> “Didn’t you hear me? I said I’ve just entered Chuo expressway from the Chofu interchange.”

<Eeeh? Why are you there? It’s still working hours, isn’t it?!> “You go and work instead. Goodbye.”

Ishii sounded like he still had more to say, but Gotou ignored him and ended the call. Despite this sudden development, perhaps Gotou could take advantage of it to kill his boredom rather than having to sort documents with Ishii. With a change of heart, Gotou stepped on the gas pedal even further.

- 4

- They reached their destination after an hour and a half drive.

It was closer than expected, but come to think of it, Yamanashi Prefecture was indeed close. The prefecture was located next to Tokyo. Compared to Haruka’s hometown in Nagano, this was much closer. Gotou parked his car at the sake brewery carpark.

Haruka was about to exit the car when she saw Yakumo, next to her, still asleep with his hands folded over his stomach. These chances are rare, thought Haruka.

Haruka poked Yakumo’s side with a finger. Startled, Yakumo was shot awake. Right at that moment, his head bumped against the car window.

Haruka thought it was funny and couldn’t help but laugh. However, Yakumo didn’t appear pleased, glaring sharply at Haruka.

“What are you doing?” “What is it? I don’t know anything.”

Haruka pretended to be clueless. Not that she thought she could fool Yakumo, but if she were to admit the truth, one could only imagine what insults Yakumo would throw at her.

“Your fault for snoring carefreely despite asking someone else to drive,” complained Gotou, already outside the car. Yakumo looked like he wanted to retaliate, but perhaps his head wasn’t working properly yet after having just woken, so he merely sighed and exited the car.

Haruka followed suit. They were greeted by the sight of lush greenery surrounded by tall mountains. Not too different from Haruka’s hometown in Nagano.

If the weather was decent, they might even get to see Mount Fuji. Unfortunately, they couldn’t as of now as it was covered by thick clouds. “Aren’t there any onsen around here?” said Gotou, lighting his cigarette.

“Would be nice if there were. A secret spring hidden by Takeda Shingen, or something. Ah, since we came all the way to Yamanashi, I want to eat some hoto,” said Haruka excitedly. She had often heard of hoto as a popular dish from Yamanashi, but she had never tried it before. Since the opportunity presented itself, Haruka ended up wanting to give it a try.

“Apparently torimotsu is good, too,” said Gotou with a gleeful smile. “That doesn’t sound bad either,” Haruka replied in agreement.

Witnessing Haruka and Gotou’s enthusiasm, Yakumo threw a cold gaze at them. “You two came here to play around?” That singular line brought them into realisation.

They hadn’t come all the way to Yamanashi for onsen, hoto, nor torimotsu. Their objective was to solve a spiritual case. Now wasn’t the time to be excited.

“Once all is said and done, I’ll treat you all as thanks. Before that, let’s go here first. I’ve informed them of our visit,” said Isshin, encouraging them. “Right,” said Haruka, walking alongside Yakumo. Gotou quickly went after them as well.

Their destination, the sake brewery, was an old-fashioned architecture that evoked the atmosphere of the Edo period, with an indescribable charm to it. “The view isn’t so bad,” commented Gotou in awe.

“Mhm. This sake brewery is famous among locals and has been in operation since the Kansei era.” “Amazing,” blurted Haruka upon hearing Isshin’s explanation.

“Excuse me,” Isshin called out, having stood before the entrance. However, his voice was cut off by sounds of a man and a woman arguing from within the house. “You killed him, didn’t you!”

“Stop accusing me! On what basis are you even saying such things to me?” “Nonsense! I know about everything!”

“Please, just leave already!” “Shut up! I’m going even without you telling me!”

With that line, the door opened with a thud and a man who appeared to be in his forties exited the house. From his flustered face, they were able to tell that this was the man who had been arguing just now.

“Who are you people?” said the man after scanning and evaluating the faces of everyone standing before the door. “We are here as we have some business with Shizuko-san who lives here. My name is Isshin,” Isshin replied politely.

“Ahh,” the man responded with an irritated tone. “She’s inside. Maybe.” “I see.”

“I don’t know who you people are, but you better be careful with that vixen.” said the man, turning to the door with a sharp gaze. “What do you mean?” asked Isshin.

The man smiled cynically. “Since that woman is a murderer.” Having said that, the man left in a rush.

“What was that about just now?” With a serious expression, Gotou observed that man until he went out of sight. Haruka had the same thought as Gotou. She had no idea what was up, but she felt it was inappropriate to act arrogantly towards people you had only just met.

On top of that, the man’s attitude of calling another a murderer wasn’t very pleasant. “I deeply apologise for all the commotion—” a voice spoke as Haruka stood there half agape. She turned to find a woman standing behind the door. She seemed to be in her mid-thirties.

The woman didn’t appear to have any makeup on, yet she had sharp eyes and a well-defined face. A beautiful woman befitting her dark blue kimono.

“Could you perhaps be Isshin-san?” asked the woman politely. “Yes,” replied Isshin.

“I’m Shizuko. Apologies for troubling you. Please come in—” Shizuko bowed respectfully. She had a dignified presence, with a warm smile on her face.

However, Haruka sensed something was amiss. Judging from the situation, the person who had been arguing with the man from earlier had to be Shizuko. Yet she could smile like this now. The drastic transformation felt unnatural.

Although Haruka didn’t immediately believe what the man had said, the word ‘murderer’ echoed within her mind still. Haruka had tagged along out of curiosity, yet now she couldn’t help but think she might have gotten herself involved with a dire circumstance.

Haruka’s body shivered at the thought— -

5 -

Gotou and the rest were led by Shizuko to a Japanese-style room that appeared to be the living room. Just like the exterior, the interior too felt aged, yet it gave the appearance of having been thoroughly cleaned regularly. Shizuko seemed to be surprisingly meticulous.

They were served tea and as the situation had calmed, Shizuko kneeled and bowed once more. “Thank you for coming all the way here.” “Not at all. Even if not by much, I thought I could be of some help,” replied Isshin with a friendly tone.

“Um...” said Shizuko hesitantly upon seeing the faces of everyone in the room. She likely hadn’t expected this many people to come. “Ahh, apologies for the late introduction. This is my nephew, and his friends.”

“I see, your nephew—” said Shizuko, peering at Yakumo. Whilst left unsaid, she was clearly questioning why his nephew had to come along as well.

“Truthfully, when it comes to spiritual phenomena, they’re more knowledgeable than me,” said Isshin, as he glanced at Yakumo. “Is that so...”

Shizuko continued to observe the faces of those present in the room. One couldn’t tell whether she actually believed Isshin’s explanation. “Either way, this sake factory sure is big,” Isshin said while nodding.

“No. This factory’s sole advantage lies in its old age...Since we couldn’t compete against major companies with mass-scale production, it hasn’t been doing well.” Shizuko shook her head listlessly.

“Even so, quantity can’t replace quality.” “I’d like to do that too, but we are facing a number of problems, so business isn’t running the way I wanted it to…” Shizuko began to ramble.

The sight from earlier reappeared in Gotou’s mind. He didn’t know the details, but there seemed to be no mistaking that this woman was dealing with some trouble. “Does that problem have anything to do with the man we encountered at the entrance?” asked Gotou, curious out of habit due to his line of work.

“Right. Since we fought that loudly, obviously we could be heard from outside. How embarrassing…” Shizuko smiled sadly before turning away. “Who was that man?”

Shizuko inhaled deeply before facing her guests, “He’s the son of the previous generation’s owner.” “The previous generation owner’s son? So he’s your sibling?” asked Gotou again.

Shizuko frowned with a troubled expression. “No, that’s not it. He and I are step-siblings.” “Step-siblings?”

“I…was adopted.” “Adopted?”

“I’m the illegitimate child of the previous generation owner—” said Shizuko, her head hung. Gotou finally understood why Shizuko had been talking in circles just now.

In other words, Shizuko was the child born to the mistress of the previous generation owner— “Is that so…”

“I used to live with my mother, just the two of us. Sometimes Father would come home, but even as a child, I understood that our family was different from your average family.” “You must have gone through a lot,” Isshin looked at Shizuko empathically.

Yet Shizuko merely displayed a glimpse of sorrow before she regained her dignified demeanour and continued her story. “When I was ten years old, my mother passed away from a heart attack. My grandparents also had already passed and since Mother had no relatives, I was going to be sent to an orphanage. However, the previous owner felt sympathy and decided to adopt me.”

“It must’ve caused a huge disagreement,” said Gotou spontaneously. “Yes. His legal wife was completely against it, but the previous owner was insistent and eventually I was brought here.”

So that was how it was. The situation was more complicated than what Gotou had originally thought.

While Shizuko had talked about it casually, she had to have had suffered as a child. When a parent passed away, relatives often fought over matters such as inheritance and the like. All the more so when the situation was complicated.

“That man—Kenzou-san—after graduating high school, he left home upon declaring that he refused to continue the family business.” “How irresponsible,” commented Gotou.

Shizuko shook her head. “My step-mother had just passed away at that time, so Kenzou-san must have had a lot in his mind as well.” “Sounds like a tough situation,” Isshin nodded.

That was all Isshin did, yet the gesture felt warm enough to melt away a frozen heart. “No. I didn’t do anything. I simply tried to make sake together with the previous owner.”

“Then, what business did that Kenzou, who was supposed to have left the family come here for?” asked Gotou. “When the previous owner died three months ago, Kenzou suddenly returned and stated that he was going to inherit this sake factory.”

“So that was why you two were arguing,” understood Gotou. Inheritance disputes that often occurred tend to end badly. Add in their complicated circumstances into the mix, and their situation was certainly even worse.

In times like this, everything could be resolved legally with the existence of a will. However, if one didn’t exist, things could escalate to the point of crime. “I truly apologise that all of you had to listen to such an unpleasant family story right upon your arrival,”

“No, no problem at all. Thank you for telling us,” said Isshin, bowing politely. Shizuko shook her head. “No, that’s...”

Gotou turned towards the window and noticed the large droplets of rain beginning to fall. “I think it’s about time we get into the main topic?” Yakumo began to speak after the previous topic had ended. He rubbed his eyes as if saying that the previous conversation was boring.

“Right…” said Shizuko with a serious expression. “Supposedly, the ghost came out of a painting…?” Yakumo peered at Shizuko.

“I didn’t see it come out of it. Only that I saw it seemingly disappear into the painting on the hanging parchment scroll,” answered Shizuko, slowly moving her vision as if visualising the event. “I see. May we take a look at the painting?” asked Yakumo.

Shizuko nodded. “Of course.” The conversation progressed just like that, leaving Gotou unable to follow. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t been informed about what sort of spiritual phenomenon was happening in this house.

“What do you mean by painting?” with a small voice, Gotou asked Yakumo. Yakumo threw a mocking look. “So you don’t know anything.”

“You guys were the ones who dragged me with no explanation.” “Please tone it down. You’ll see eventually,” said Yakumo with a shrug.

The man seemed to have no intention in explaining things properly to Gotou. Well, perhaps like Yakumo had said, he would know once he saw it. “Let’s go. This way—”

Shizuko stood from where she had been sitting and ushered them to follow her out of the living room and walk along the corridor. The rain had progressed into a full-on downpour now. For those driving, this was troublesome weather.

They were led by Shizuko to enter a space two rooms ahead. A Japanese-style room the size of roughly six tatami, normally used as Shizuko’s bedroom. It was a simple room with nothing but a dresser. A few droplets could be seen on the tatami.

“That one—” said Shizuko, pointing towards the tokonoma[3]. There was a painting on the parchment scroll hanging over the wall.

“Wha—?!” Gotou exclaimed reflexively upon seeing the terrifying painting pointed by Shizuko. An ancient Japanese painting depicting a man in a white kimono, carrying a kongozue on his shoulder.

And— Both of the man’s eyes were bright red.

- 6

- Yakumo walked straight towards the painting hanging at the tokonoma.

Somehow, Haruka was the one who grew tense. Without saying a word, Yakumo bowed in front of the painting, observing it with a serious expression.

What could Yakumo be thinking about right now? Haruka tried to picture it, but she wouldn’t be able to arrive at the answer.

Both eyes of the model this painting was based on were red in colour. Perhaps the person depicted here had some kind of connection to Yakumo.

“I see—” mumbled Yakumo after staring at the painting for some time. “Did you find something?” asked Gotou enthusiastically.

However, Yakumo threw a cold gaze at Gotou. “No. Nothing at all—” “What’s with that? Getting people to expect something for no reason,” Gotou clicked his tongue.

“Gotou-san is the one who was expecting something all by yourself. Besides, you have no idea what’s happening here, don’t you?” “You were the one who didn’t explain anything!” said Gotou in anger.

Yet Yakumo appeared unfazed, instead further baiting Gotou’s temper. “Explaining to someone barbaric like Gotou-san is merely going to be a waste of time.” “What did you say?!”

Gotou grabbed Yakumo’s shirt by the collar. He seemed like he would hit Yakumo right then and there. “There, there,” said Haruka, mediating the two.

Gotou seemed like he still had more to say, but Haruka reminded him, “There’s no use taking Yakumo-kun’s words to heart,” to calm down his anger. “So, how was it?” Isshin asked Yakumo after the situation had calmed.

“How was what?” asked Yakumo back, acting clueless. “Is there a ghost here?”

Yakumo peered at Isshin, opening his mouth to say something. Right that instant—

A flash of bluish white light, followed by rumbling thunder moments later. After the lightning, the rain seemed to have gotten heavier.

Haruka turned towards the window, where large droplets of rainwater were hitting against the glass. “The rain sure is heavy. Hopefully there won’t be any landslides...” grumbled Gotou.

Yakumo laughed with a seemingly mocking tone. “You’re concerned over the wrong thing.” “What?”

“This sake factory is located next to a river. It’s not landslides that are a cause for concern, but the river overflowing.” Yakumo was right. Though annoyed, Gotou could only stay quiet.

“Are floods common around here?” asked Isshin. Shizuko shook her head. “This place is Takeda Shingen’s hometown, so it’s well prepared for flood damage.”

Hearing Shizuko’s answer made Haruka recall and said, “If I recall correctly, Takeda Shingen also put a lot of effort into flood prevention, right?” “So you knew about it too,” said Shizuko happily.

“Whatever, but the conversation’s getting sidetracked,” said Yakumo, yawning out of boredom. Right. They were supposed to be discussing the ghost and the hanging painting with red eyes, yet the topic somehow became flood prevention and Takeda Shingen.

“Anyway, to sort the information, how about we return to the room from earlier?” suggested Yakumo. Isshin and Gotou then decided to return to the living room, led by Shizuko.

They left the room in succession. However, when Haruka was about to follow the four of them, something cold slithered across her back. The sensation felt like a block of ice sliding down along her spine.

She stopped and turned around. Nobody was there.

Only the painting that they had been discussing earlier. Now wasn’t the time to space out here. She had to promptly go after the rest.

Haruka wanted to move her legs to leave that place and follow everyone else, yet for some reason she was unable to move. Even though she was able to draw in a breath, she couldn’t exhale it back out.

Why? As Haruka thought that, lightning struck once again.

Alongside the sound of thunder that arrived later, the room lights went out. Amidst the dark room, Haruka could see a portion of shadow thicker than the rest. Upon further observation, the figure appeared humanlike.

Its face wasn’t visible, as if painted over by black ink. And yet, its eyes stared at Haruka whilst emanating a fiery light. -

7 -

“So, was there a ghost?” asked Gotou to Yakumo as they walked along the corridor after leaving the room where the painting was hung. Yakumo stopped walking, but he didn’t utter a single word.

As he listened to the pouring rain, Gotou anticipated the words from Yakumo. It wasn’t just Gotou. Isshin, along with the sake factory manager as well as the client for this case, a woman named Shizuko, also stood without a word.

The painting that Gotou had just seen returned to his mind. The painting of a man clad in white kimono, shouldering a kongozue.

Gotou wasn’t one to appraise the arts. Despite that, he had sensed a strange aura from it. The main factor that had made him feel that way were the eyes of the man depicted in that painting.

His gaze might be sharp, yet his eyes were incredibly sad. Most importantly, both his eyes were red like a blazing flame. Gotou couldn’t help but relate it to Yakumo’s red left eye.

Had the person in that painting really existed, he might have had some kind of connection to Yakumo. Perhaps that connection could give them some information about the origins of Yakumo’s unique trait. Despite his indifferent act, Yakumo had to be curious about that fact as well.

“Oi, did you hear me?” said Gotou in frustration as Yakumo had yet to give a reply. “What an impatient bear,” Yakumo sighed with a fed up attitude.

“Who are you calling an impatient bear?” “Is there anyone else besides Gotou-san?”

“This brat...” “I still don’t know the details. It’s too early to draw a conclusion...” said Yakumo, laughing bitterly.

His manner of speech. Gotou recognised it all too well from years of knowing him. He was merely avoiding having to answer. “What are you saying? You can see ghosts. You should be able to tell whether a ghost was present or not there without having to think about it,” emphasised Gotou.

Yakumo snorted into a laugh. “Wow. Must be nice to be a simple-minded bear,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Judging by the attitude of the young man next to him, Gotou could tell that he already had some speculation. Even so, Yakumo wouldn’t open his mouth even when pressed further than this.

Gotou gave up and intended to walk ahead, but he stopped. “Huh? Where’s Haruka-chan?”

Haruka, who had been around earlier, was nowhere to be seen. Isshin too looked at his surroundings and said, “Now that you say that...”

“She’s slow, after all. Incredibly so,” said Yakumo partly in disbelief, turning his gaze back towards the sliding door. Perhaps she was still looking at the painting and didn’t realise everyone else had left. As Yakumo thought so, a bluish light flashed.

With the boom of a thunder, the light that had been illuminating the corridor went out. “Maybe the lightning struck an electrical pole,” said Isshin, looking at the lightbulb hanging over the corridor.

They could easily restore the power if it merely had been a blown fuse, but it would be much more troublesome if the lightning had struck an electrical pole as Isshin had said. It would take some time before the power could be restored.

Right now, they were still able to see although dim, but night time was soon approaching. Hopefully the power would be back before it got dark— “Aaaah!”

A deafening scream could be heard. They immediately recognised the owner of that voice.

Haruka— Partly in reflex, Gotou turned his heel and returned to the room where the hanging painting was located.

“Wha-?!” shouted Gotou spontaneously at the sight before him. Haruka had collapsed face down around the centre of the room.

Yakumo’s expression changed, and by the next second he was already running towards Haruka. “Oi! Hang in there!”

Now was not the time to stand bewildered. Gotou followed suit and ran to where Haruka had collapsed. From a brief glance, her breath and pulse appeared to be present.

Haruka seemed to have merely lost consciousness. At that moment, Gotou felt like he was being watched by someone and turned in the direction of the gaze.

Therein hung the problematic painting. The man in the white kimono stared intently at Gotou with his pair of red eyes.

Could a ghost have left the painting and attacked Haruka? — No, that’s impossible. Gotou discarded the wild thought that had emerged in his mind.

- 8

- Haruka gradually opened her eyelids—

Across her field of vision were boards of ceiling unfamiliar to her. Her head felt heavy and incapable of holding a thought.

“You’re awake?” a gentle voice asked. Haruka recognised that voice.

It was Isshin’s. Isshin observed Haruka’s face and smiled in relief.

“I...” Haruka slowly lifted her body to sit up. She felt a little dizzy.

Haruka rubbed her eyes and looked at her surroundings. A mattress was laid in the middle of a Japanese-style room the size of around six tatami. And she was on that mattress.

Aside from Isshin, Yakumo and Gotou were also present in the room. “Haruka-chan, are you alright?” asked Gotou, crouching next to her.

After Haruka responded with a nod, she turned towards Yakumo, who stood leaning against the wall. “Good grief. Not only are you a troublemaker, but you’re also making people panic.” Hands crossed, Yakumo frowned angrily.

Despite that, Haruka could tell from his eyes that he wasn’t genuinely angry. It turned out that Yakumo was worried about her. “Why am I here?“ asked Haruka.

“You don’t remember?” asked Yakumo back. While her vision had gotten clearer, her mind was still foggy that she couldn’t recall what had happened.

“After leaving the room, we realised that you weren’t with us when we were walking along the corridor. As we were just wondering what was up, we suddenly heard your scream and hurried back. We found you collapsed inside the room with the painting,” Isshin helped explain to a dumbfounded Haruka. However, his story came from the perspective of Isshin and the rest so Haruka still didn’t understand what had happened to her.

“Scream…collapsed…” mumbled Haruka. “Yes. You were passed out. Although only for a short while, about ten minutes or so,” said Isshin with a smile, as a light flashed from outside the window.

Thunder then followed and shook the window pane. As if responding to the fact, a piece of memory surfaced in Haruka’s mind.

“The ghost from the painting…” said Haruka, uttering the sight that came to her mind. “What?” said Gotou, eyes widened.

“I saw it. Before leaving the room, I sensed something and turned around. Then, I saw a black figure standing there...” “And then?” asked Isshin.

“I was so terrified I couldn’t move…” said Haruka, touching her forehead. Even though she hadn’t been able to recall anything earlier, her memories were now quickly returning.

“That was a ghost?” asked Gotou, demanding answers. “Maybe, I think so. The ghost was silent for a while, but the moment I tried to run, it suddenly attacked me...”

The harrowing moment returned so vividly into Haruka’s mind it made her shiver. “What happened afterwards?” Yakumo lowered his chin and stared at Haruka.

“I’m not sure how, but I was knocked away…and then...” said Haruka, starting to doubt. That was as far as her memories went. Before she knew it, she was already in this room.

“So a ghost really came out of the painting after all…?” said Gotou in a bitter tone whilst turning towards Yakumo. However, Yakumo appeared to be thinking about something. He placed his hand on his pointed chin and gave no answer.

“Yakumo-kun, this—” said Haruka when the sliding door opened. Shizuko entered the room. The woman brought a tray containing a wet towel for compress and a glass of water.

Upon seeing Haruka, already in a sitting position, she said “Thank goodness you’re now awake.” “Ah, yes.”

“Does it still hurt?” “A little, but it’s alright. Sorry for all the panic,” replied Haruka.

With an elegant gesture, Shizuko sat down whilst shaking her head. “Not at all. Rather, it seems you’re the one who got into danger because I requested your help...” she said, closing her eyes, looking as if she felt guilty. I wonder why?

Haruka felt something was odd with the woman’s face. Shizuko’s expression didn’t seem to be solely out of concern for Haruka. To her, Shizuko seemed to be living life whilst repressing a much bigger sadness.

“Sorry, may I ask you about one thing?” Isshin began to speak. “About what?” Shizuko lifted her head.

“Could you tell us the story behind the painting in that room?” asked Isshin. “Story? What do you mean?” Shizuko asked in return.

“I thought you might have a reason to deliberately hang that painting in your bedroom.” Isshin’s question made sense.

It was typical to display artworks such as flowers, butterflies or birds in one’s bedroom. Yet that painting was vastly different from the sort of artworks commonly used to decorate bedrooms. After thinking quietly for some time, Shizuko slowly began her story.

“According to the previous owner, his grandfather owed his life to the man in that painting—” “Owed his life...” Isshin responded before mumbling in awe.

“Yes. Apparently the previous owner’s grandfather had been disturbed by a strange spiritual phenomenon. Because of that, the business couldn’t operate well.” “Spiritual phenomenon—” said Haruka without realising.

Yakumo and Gotou exchanged glances as well. “Yes. I don’t know what happened exactly, but it was said his life had even been in danger.”

“Is that so,” responded Isshin. “At that time, he happened to meet a young painter and the man in that painting. Supposedly the person in that painting was a purification expert.”

“Purification expert?” asked Haruka. “Simply put, he’s some kind of spiritual medium.”

“The purification expert in the painting apparently managed to properly resolve the spiritual trouble. His business ran smoothly again ever since. The previous owner’s grandfather then put up that painting as a form of guardian spirit—” “Is that so,” Isshin nodded in understanding.

Shizuko stared intently at Isshin. Isshin’s left eye was red. That was because Isshin was wearing a red contact lens, but Shizuko, who didn’t know that, assumed he was born with that red eye and might be thinking that Isshin and the man in the painting had some kind of connection.

Haruka had the same feeling. From Shizuko’s story, the person in that painting had resolved a spiritual case. Perhaps he had been capable of doing it because his red eyes had been able to see spirits of the dead—ghosts—just like Yakumo.

Following that thought, the person in that painting might have been Yakumo’s ancestor. Haruka glanced at Yakumo and saw him forming a smile on his face.

What meaning could be behind that smile? Haruka wanted to ask, yet Yakumo had gone back to being serious and turned towards Shizuko again. “Could I also ask something?” requested Yakumo.

Shizuko replied, “Yes.” “I heard you are currently the one running this sake factory, but was that what the previous owner wanted?”

Hearing Yakumo’s question, Shizuko’s face instantly hardened and lost its colour. Haruka didn’t know why Yakumo asked that question.

After their conversation in the entrance, Shizuko had explained how there was an ongoing inheritance dispute between Kenzou, the legitimate son, and Shizuko, the adopted daughter. They hadn’t known whether that had anything to do with this spiritual phenomenon, and Kenzou’s words that had claimed, ‘That woman is a murderer’ couldn’t be ignored either.

Shizuko was frozen stiff with a tense expression for some time, before giving in and letting out a long sigh. “The previous owner said he was going to entrust this factory to me when he was alive.” Shizuko’s eyes were slightly tearful; perhaps she was reminiscing about that time.

“Did he leave a will or the like?” asked Yakumo. With her fingers, Shizuko pressed on the corner of her eye, inhaling back her snot before saying, “He didn’t leave a will or anything. I merely heard him say it.”

“Was Kenzou-san able to accept that fact?” interrupted Isshin. “No. Once the forty-nine days of mourning was over, Kenzou-san came and demanded that this place be handed over to him.”

“Is that so...” Isshin gave a look full of sympathy towards Shizuko. “Excuse me, but Kenzou-san said that you’re a murderer...” said Yakumo, staring at Shizuko with a challenging look.

Shizuko’s eyes widened in surprise, before sighing deeply again. “I’m no murderer. But Kenzou-san spread rumours that I killed the previous owner because I wanted this sake factory.”

So that was how it was. After Shizuko’s explanation, Haruka finally understood the meaning of the conversation with Kenzou.

“I’m the child of a mistress. If Kenzou-san wishes to inherit this factory, I could hand it over to him anytime, but...” said Shizuko who then covered her face. “But…why?” asked Isshin, urging her.

“Seems like Kenzou-san intends to close down the sake factory and sell this place. That’s why I can’t hand it over.” Haruka’s chest ached upon hearing Shizuko’s words.

Shizuko’s feelings about her origins were complicated. Perhaps somewhere within her heart, she was denying her own existence. As a result, she wasn’t able to find worth in her existence apart from protecting this sake factory. That was what Haruka felt.

However, Haruka didn’t think Shizuko should bear that responsibility. Even so, Haruka didn’t say that out loud.

She didn’t know how to convey it, and she felt that anything said by a youngster like her wouldn’t be able to touch Shizuko’s heart. “Is it really true that Kenzou-san wants to sell this place?” asked Yakumo.

Shizuko’s face hardened momentarily. “Kenzou-san said he wanted to inherit this place, but I don’t trust him. He hasn’t returned to this house for so many years...” Shizuko’s words were filled with thorns.

Yet Haruka understood why she became that way. She may not know the details, but running a sake factory mustn’t be so easy that it was possible to take over overnight. If Kenzou, who had never come home until now, said he wanted to inherit the factory, one wouldn’t be able to trust him at all.

“May I ask one more thing?” said Yakumo, staring straight at Shizuko. “Yes.”

“If this sake factory were to be sold, what would the price be?” Shizuko scowled at Yakumo’s rude question, but she answered, “I don’t know. But I don’t think it’ll be much. To be honest, I can’t say business is going well. Especially ever since the previous owner passed away...”

Shizuko grew hesitant to continue. Come to think of it, Shizuko had already mentioned that business was bad as they hadn’t been able to keep up against larger companies.

Perhaps that was precisely why Kenzou wanted to quickly sell this place to obtain some money, even if not much. On the other hand, Shizuko wanted to protect this sake factory. Their line of thinking were polar opposites.

“I’ve understood the situation,” said Yakumo as he stood up, and exchanged glances with Isshin. Isshin responded and left the room with Yakumo. The two seemed to be discussing something.

“What are those two up to?” mumbled Gotou, voicing out what Haruka was thinking. Unfortunately, Haruka could only shake her head, saying, “No idea.”

Moments later, Yakumo and Isshin returned to the room. Haruka wanted to ask what they were up to, but Yakumo had begun speaking, “Gotou-san. Could you follow me for a while?” “Fine by me, but what for?”

“Come along and you’ll know,” said Yakumo before leaving the room again. Gotou sighed in dissatisfaction, but he eventually followed Yakumo out of the room.

“What were you guys talking about just now?” Haruka tried asking Isshin about it. “I wonder?” Isshin said with a smile as if he had nothing to do with it.

- 9

- Large droplets of rain bounced against the ground.

Despite using an umbrella, his legs were drenched in an instant. His shoulders were also soaking wet out of water that dripped from the umbrella. The rain really is heavy—

“Oi. Yakumo. What are we going to do?” Gotou called loudly—as to not get his voice drowned by the rain—towards Yakumo’s back. “Don’t you feel strange about it?” said Yakumo as he walked towards the back of the building.

“About what?” “Her testimony.”

By ‘her’, he was referring to Haruka. From his way of speaking, Yakumo seemed to be sensing something off from Haruka’s story.

However— “I don’t think Haruka-chan was lying.”

“I know that. She’s bad at lying, after all.” Well, Yakumo was right.

Haruka wasn’t the type to lie smoothly. “In that case, what was strange about it?”

“This is why I’ve been saying Gotou-san doesn’t cut it as a detective.” “What are you—!”

Gotou reached for Yakumo’s shoulders. “Do you really not know?”

“I’m asking because I don’t.” “What an incompetent bear.”

Yakumo made an exaggerated sigh. Truly an annoying bastard. Gotou wanted to raise his fist at him, but held himself back.

“Whatever you say. Rather than that, what’s strange about it?” “If her testimony was correct, then the incident had gone against my theory.”

That one sentence made Gotou realise what Yakumo was suspicious of. Based on his personal experience of seeing ghosts through his red left eye, Yakumo defined ghosts as clusters of emotions of the departed, incapable of physical influence.

Having been involved in a number of cases with Yakumo, Gotou too believed in his theory. And yet—

This time, Haruka claimed she had been attacked by a ghost and had gotten knocked over. “But if Haruka wasn’t lying, then her story wouldn’t add up.”

“That’s where the problem is—” Yakumo stopped his steps and turned around.

“You have a suspicion in mind?” “Gotou-san, you really didn’t notice anything?”

“Huh?” “I’m asking, did you not realise anything after looking at the scene?” said Yakumo impatiently.

Gotou tried to jog his memory of the scene, yet he didn’t understand what Yakumo was trying to say. “Was there something strange about it?”

As soon as Gotou said that, Yakumo shook his head in disbelief. “Do you have holes for eyes?” “What did you say?!”

“Judging from the situation, there is only one possibility.” Yakumo’s way of speaking—it was as if he had known everything about this case.

“If you already knew, then tell me.” “I refuse,” said Yakumo, turning his face away.

“You little—” Gotou approached closer in anger, but Yakumo ignored him and walked away.

How irritating. Knowing Yakumo, he’d close his mouth shut like a clamshell and give no answer no matter how much Gotou made a fuss. Gotou gave up and followed after him.

As they reached the vicinity of a wall facing the room where Haruka had collapsed, Yakumo crouched and began observing something. “What are you looking at?”

“I thought there would be some evidence left behind, but this rain has proven it difficult…” Yakumo replied with a sour face. “Evidence? Evidence of what?”

“After everything that I’ve explained, do you still not know?” “I—told—you...I’m asking because I don’t.”

“Please don’t be proud of your own incompetence.” Yakumo stood up and threw a condescending look in Gotou’s direction.

He’s making a fool out of me! “Cut it out and tell me already!” Gotou retorted, clicking his tongue from annoyance.

Yakumo faintly smiled. “Then, here’s the hint.” Hint? What is this, a quiz?

Gotou felt irritated as Yakumo tried to test him, but tried to hold back. “Think about it with my ghost theory as a basis. If she really was attacked by a ghost, then there was something very unnatural in that room.”

“Ah!” Gotou exclaimed spontaneously. So that was how it was—Gotou had only realised now. It was pathetic of him, having not realised such a thing. No wonder he had gotten mocked for having holes for eyes.

“That means, at the scene…” Gotou swallowed his sentence midway. He felt the eyes of someone staring at them.

Gotou quickly scanned his surroundings. There!

He saw someone standing around ten metres away from their location. That person was hiding behind a building, gazing intently at them. Had it not for the umbrella, perhaps Gotou wouldn’t have noticed.

“Gotou-san,” said Yakumo, signalling through his eyes. Even without Yakumo asking, Gotou walked straight in that man’s direction.

In response to Gotou approaching him, the man began stepping backwards. Eventually, he turned his back against Gotou and hurriedly ran away. “Oi!” called Gotou.

The man jolted and stopped. “What are you doing at a place like this?” asked Gotou, when the man discarded his umbrella and ran as fast as he could.

Dammit! “Wait!”

Gotou discarded his umbrella as well, kicked against the ground, and ran in pursuit. Droplets of rain hit his face until his eyesight turned into a blur.

Despite that, Gotou didn’t lose speed one bit. He ran with all his strength after that man’s back. Luckily, the man’s legs weren’t too swift. If this continued, he would soon catch up with him.

Even so, Gotou couldn’t let his guard down. He wasn’t familiar with the area. If the man were to run into an alley, there was a high chance he’d lose him. He had to catch him soon.

Gotou roared as he picked up his pace and lunged at the man’s waist. They fell down whilst entangled together.

“P-please stop! What did I even do?” the man yelled whilst struggling. When Gotou reached for his arms and pinned him, the man relaxed as resistance became futile.

Seeing the man’s face, Gotou exclaimed, “Eh? Who are you?” pouting his lips without realising. He only just saw the man’s face for the first time. He had thought that this man was Kenzou, so he felt disappointed.

The man had a slim face with silver framed glasses. His timid expression was similar to that of Ishii, Gotou’s partner. “What on earth is this about…?” said the man with a trembling voice.

When asked that way, Gotou had trouble answering. Gotou himself had chased after him without a clear reasoning. “Because you ran,” urged Gotou, knowing full well he was simply making excuses.

“Even if you say that, I was suddenly chased after all,” the man said, looking at Gotou in fear. Putting it that way made Gotou appear to be the one to blame.

“Didn’t you run away out of guilt?” “N-no.”

“What do you mean no?” “Fair enough. Anyone would have run away if they were suddenly chased by this bearlike man,” Yakumo said nonchalantly as he walked over.

Gotou felt incredibly annoyed at the sight of Yakumo casually walking over, seemingly arrogant with an umbrella, whilst Gotou himself was drenched. “What kind of comment was that?”

“Nevermind that, please let go of that man right away,” said Yakumo as he ran a hand across his messy hair. “You sure?”

Though unspoken, Yakumo had signalled with his eyes for Gotou to chase after this man, right? “Yes. No problem at all.” replied Yakumo, shrugging.

Gotou wasn’t satisfied with his explanation, but he eventually let go of the man. “Are you alright?” said Yakumo, extending a hand towards him.

Despite his dumbfounded look, the man reached out for Yakumo’s hand and stood up. He was even more drenched than Gotou as he had fallen onto the ground. “Apologies for the suddenness, but may we ask you a few questions?” asked Yakumo politely.

The man closed his eyes as if in defeat. -

10 -

“How about we go and take a look at the painting in that room once again?” suggested Isshin. Scary.

Haruka genuinely felt so. Having gone through what had happened to her, she didn’t want to go see that painting again.

But this case wouldn’t get resolved by staying put, and she felt bad if she were to do nothing until Yakumo and Gotou return. Perhaps they might discover something by making use of this time to reexamine the painting.

“Right. Let’s go,” replied Haruka, holding back her fear. Shizuko too replied, “Understood,” and the three decided to visit the room with the painting once again.

The power hadn’t returned, so the interior of the room felt like it was swallowed by darkness. The problematic painting hung eerily amidst the dark room.

Imprinted on the old parchment, the pair of red eyes were wide open as if conveying a message that transcends time. “Now—let us begin,” said Isshin, rubbing his hands together.

“Begin—there’s something you want to do here?” asked Haruka. Isshin smiled. “Yes.”

“Do what?” “Following Yakumo’s style, you could say it’s time to solve a mystery.”

“Solve a mystery?” Hearing the unexpected words coming from Isshin’s mouth, Haruka was left agape.

To solve a mystery meant Isshin had already known the truth behind this case. “Well, the mystery I meant isn’t a big deal to solve,” said Isshin, scratching the back of his neck shyly.

Someone mature like Isshin suddenly appeared childlike. This gap was perhaps part of his charm. Even so, whether Isshin could actually solve the mystery was another story.

“Is it really alright?” said Haruka spontaneously. “Well, I feel like I could handle a mystery of this level,” said Isshin casually.

“I-is that so?” “Firstly, there are a few things that need to be clarified,” said Isshin, facing Shizuko.

Haruka felt that movement of his was similar to that of Yakumo’s. “About what?”

“Shizuko-san. Since when was this painting in this room?” asked Isshin as he pointed at the painting. “Before the previous owner passed away, this painting had been in his room. After he had passed, the painting was relocated to my room.”

“I see. Did you hear anything about a ghost coming out of the painting from the previous owner?” “Never.”

Satisfied with Shizuko’s reply, Isshin nodded, “Hm.” “There’s something I’d like to ask Haruka-chan as well,” continued Isshin, now turning towards Haruka.

“About what?” “Did the ghost you saw have red eyes?”

Upon Isshin’s question, Haruka began searching through her memories. The black shadow vividly flashed into her mind, it made her shiver. At the same time, she found the answer to Isshin’s question. Her chest began to pound.

“No.” The pair of eyes that had stared intensely at Haruka might have felt terrifying, but now that she recalled, those eyes hadn’t been red.

“How about the clothing?” “I couldn’t remember clearly...but I think the ghost was wearing a dark blue kimono.”

“Not white?” “Yes,” replied Haruka.

Isshin nodded firmly. “In other words, the ghost had nothing to do with this painting,” he said, touching his chin. “Right,” Haruka responded in agreement.

During Isshin’s explanation, she had also arrived at that possibility. She had been confused and had said that the ghost had come out of the painting, but thinking about it calmly like this, the painting and the ghost were likely two separate things.

“When the ghost appeared before Haruka-chan, did they say anything to you?” “No, not at all...” Haruka shook her head.

Yakumo might be able to get information from the ghost, but Haruka couldn’t. It felt frustrating. “Even if they didn’t say anything, did they appear to be attempting to convey something?” Isshin threw yet another question.

“Attempting to convey...” “Yes. Such as through expression, movement, anything.”

“Expression…movement…” said Haruka as she retraced her thoughts. Was there something—At first, Haruka couldn’t think of anything. However, it was as if something suddenly clicked.

“Looks like you recalled something,” Isshin narrowed his eyes from reading Haruka’s expression. “Yes. Their hand was pointing like this.”

Haruka lifted her arm parallel to her chest as she pictured the sight from back then. Her finger pointed towards the painting on the wall. “So this painting really was—” mumbled Isshin.

“Did you get something?” asked Haruka. The corners of Isshin’s mouth lifted into laughter. “If my instinct was right, the ghost Haruka saw hadn’t come out of the painting, but instead wanted the painting to be seen.”

“What do you mean?” “Most likely, the ghost that appeared in this room was the ghost of the previous owner. I think the previous owner wanted Shizuko-san to look at this painting.”

Isshin’s line of thinking sounded logical and made sense. And yet, there was still one thing Haruka didn’t understand.

“Why did he want her to see the painting?” Even without being asked, Shizuko used this room every day, so she would see the painting whether she wanted to or not.

“What he was trying to show was not the painting itself, but something hidden in that painting,” said Isshin as he took down the painting’s parchment scroll and placed it on the tatami before closely observing it. “What’s being hidden here?” asked Haruka, looking at the painting.

“Look over here—” said Isshin, pointing at the bottom right corner of the painting. Haruka glanced to find that the area pointed by Isshin was slightly folded. The paper of the painting also appeared to have peeled off from the parchment scroll.

“This...” muttered Haruka. Isshin nodded firmly. “Yes. Most likely, this painting had been removed from the scroll before, and then reattached.”

“But why do something like that?” “Rather than explaining, it’d be easier if we confirm it. Shizuko-san, may I?” Isshin asked, requesting permission.

Shizuko went silent for some time from hesitation, before eventually replied, “Yes, go ahead.” Isshin carefully peeled the painting away from the parchment scroll to avoid tearing it.

After it was completely removed, Haruka spontaneously said, “This...” An envelope was tucked between the parchment scroll and the painting paper.

Isshin took the envelope and handed it to Shizuko. “Here you go.” Shizuko accepted it, but she didn’t check the contents straight away. Instead, she threw a dumbfounded look at Isshin.

Even without saying, Haruka knew the woman must be wondering why something like this could be in such a place. “Most likely, the one who hid that envelope here was the previous owner.”

Hearing Isshin’s explanation made Shizuko’s expression turn serious. “The previous owner? Why so?” asked Shizuko.

Isshin made a melancholic expression. “I think he wanted you to see it.” “Me?”

“Yes. Inside it is probably a will.” said Isshin blatantly. Haruka stared at Isshin in awe.

When Isshin had said he was going to solve the mystery, Haruka had equally believed and doubted him. No, rather, she had thought it would have been impossible for him. However, Isshin managed to deduce that the ghost had been trying to inform the location of the will and located it based on what little information he had obtained from Haruka and Shizuko.

As expected of Yakumo’s uncle. No, Isshin couldn’t even see ghosts. And yet, he managed to reveal the truth this far, so perhaps he was even more superior than Yakumo.

“You heard it, right? How about you come out now?” Isshin said suddenly, as if talking to someone. Who is he talking to?

As Haruka was wondering, Isshin continued, “It must be stifling, hiding in a place like that.” Isshin spoke even louder than before.

His gaze was aimed at the closet. Could there be someone inside?

There was no reply, the closet door remained closed, and they could only hear the sound of pouring rain. Haruka could only remain quiet and observe what would happen. Shizuko stared at the closet as well, stiff as a stone.

“You’d like to know the contents of the will too, right? That’s why you’re trapped, hiding yourself in there. What do you think? Don’t you want to confirm the contents together?” said Isshin for the third time in the direction of the closet. There was no response for some time, but the closet door eventually slid open.

A man emerged from inside. His entire body was drenched, and water dripped down from his hair. Haruka had seen him before. That person was—

“Kenzou-san,” said Shizuko in surprise. “Why is he here?” Haruka looked at Isshin, demanding for an answer.

Isshin appeared to have known all along that Kenzou had been hiding inside the closet. Therefore, he had to have known the reason why he had done so as well. “Simple enough. Following the water spots that formed on the tatami, we could clearly tell someone was hiding there,” Isshin explained as he pointed at the water spots on the tatami.

They may seem to be water that had fallen randomly at first glance, but after Isshin’s explanation, Haruka realised that the spots were directed towards the closet. “Furthermore, from Haruka-chan’s story, it became obvious that someone else had been in the room aside from us,” continued Isshin.

“W-what do you mean?” asked Haruka, and Isshin smiled. “Haruka-chan, you said that you had been attacked by a ghost.”

“Yes.” “That was unnatural.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Haruka denied vehemently. Isshin shook his head. “I wasn’t accusing you of lying. But try to remember the theory Yakumo always said.”

Isshin’s words made Haruka come into a realisation. Right. Yakumo had always said that ghosts were clusters of emotions of the dead, with no capacity for physical influence.

In other words, even if Haruka were to encounter a ghost, the ghost wouldn’t be able to put Haruka in harm’s way. Despite having understood that, Haruka wasn’t entirely satisfied. Because—

“What I saw was clearly a ghost.” Haruka thought she was about to get refuted, but Isshin immediately agreed. “Yes.”

Haruka became confused. “Haruka-chan, you did see a ghost. There was no mistaking that. However, that ghost and the one who attacked you are different people.”

“Different people?” “You should be able to deduce it by now. It more or less went like this—” said Isshin as he began his explanation.

Based on Isshin’s explanation, after encountering Haruka and the others at the entrance, Kenzou hadn’t left. He had opened the window from outside and had entered this room. He had thought Shizuko wouldn’t return to her room until her guests had left.

And yet, Yakumo and the rest had gone inside to see the painting. Kenzou had hurriedly escaped into the closet to hide.

Moments later, lightning had struck and the room became pitch black. Unaware of the situation, Kenzou thought everyone had left the room and he had gone out of the closet. Not noticing Haruka, still standing frozen inside the room from seeing the ghost. Kenzou had spontaneously pushed Haruka and she had screamed. Hearing footsteps of everyone returning to the room, Kenzou once again had quickly hid inside the closet.

Then, because the figure of the ghost Haruka had seen had overlapped with Kenzou’s figure, Haruka had thought she had been attacked by a ghost. Despite his calm tone, Isshin’s words were sharp.

Haruka was impressed after witnessing a new side of Isshin capable of analysing brilliantly. Yet thinking about it calmly, there was still a point she didn’t understand.

“Why didn’t Kenzou-san escape from the house after pushing me?“ After Haruka had collapsed, she had been relocated to the neighbouring room and everyone had left the room where Kenzou had hid. The man should have had the opportunity to escape from the room then.

“He couldn’t escape.” “Eh?”

“He couldn’t leave from the entrance. It would spell trouble if he were to be discovered. He could’ve gone out from the window, but he must’ve been confused from panic and was unable to think straight.” Haruka could accept that theory, yet there was another thing she didn’t understand.

“Why did Kenzou-san snoop into the house?” Upon Haruka’s question, Isshin turned to look at the will held by Shizuko.

“I see. So Kenzou-san secretly went inside the house to search for the will,” said Haruka. Isshin nodded firmly. “Yes. Kenzou-san, thinking the will’s contents were against his wishes, attempted to search for the will and steal it.”

“Why does he need to steal it?” asked Haruka. Isshin closed his eyes sadly. “What if, the contents of the will dictates that the rights to the sake factory are to be exclusively handed over to Shizuko-san?”

Hearing Isshin’s explanation made Haruka understand. Kenzou must not have wanted everything to be snatched by Shizuko.

Not to mention Shizuko had seemed to be unaware of the existence of a will, so he had wanted to find it first and steal it, such that the inheritance could be dealt with by law and split across his descendants. While that wouldn’t make him receive everything, at least he would get a portion of it.

“I’m not handing over this sake factory to you,” said Shizuko firmly. Her eyes were filled with resolution. Yet they hinted at sadness at the same time.

What was with that glint in her eyes? “Stop joking! What do you know about what I had to go through because of you?” cursed Kenzou.

“You went about as you pleased and ran away from home because you didn’t want to inherit this sake factory. So why now—” Shizuko glared at Kenzou. “What are you saying? I left because you were there! Father was always looking after you, that he wasn’t acknowledging me at all!”

“You’re wrong!” “What am I wrong about?”

“The previous owner really wanted you to be the one to inherit the factory, not me...” Tears pooled in Shizuko’s eyes.

“Impossible!” “It’s true. When he was still alive, the previous owner said if Kenzou returns, then I’m free to live as I like…” Shizuko said with tears rolling down her cheek.

What cruel words. Haruka felt like her chest was being stabbed. It was as if the previous owner had said that Shizuko was merely Kenzou’s replacement and nothing more. To Shizuko, who had low self-esteem from being the daughter of a mistress, that must have torn her heart apart.

“But you never returned until the previous owner passed. That’s why I swore to protect this place,” said Shizuko, clutching the will against her chest. From Haruka’s eyes, it was as if Shizuko was holding back pain.

“Don’t mess with me! It’s too late for that!” Kenzou lifted his fist to strike at Shizuko.

“Watch out!” Haruka screamed with all her might. Kenzou’s punch went in Shizuko’s direction, but it hadn’t hit her.

Something launched into the room with incredible speed, pushed Kenzo until he fell, pinning him against the tatami. That something turned out to be Gotou.

“Looks like you guys are safe,” Gotou, who was soaking wet, said in satisfaction. “Good grief. So Uncle wasn’t able to close it up properly,”

Grumbling as he entered the room was Yakumo— -

11 -

“Yakumo-kun!” Haruka exclaimed in relief. She had briefly wondered what might happen as Kenzou attacked Shizuko. But since Gotou had him held down, one problem was out of the way.

“My apologies, but the two of you will have to follow along with me for a little more,” said Yakumo, throwing a gaze at Shizuko and Kenzou. He spoke as if the case wasn’t over yet, even though the full story of the case had become clear. What did Yakumo intend to do?

As Haruka was lost in her thoughts, Yakumo walked towards the centre of the room and clapped. From that alone, Yakumo managed to seize the entire atmosphere of the room, despite his recent arrival.

With bated breath, Haruka watched him intently. “The goal and motive behind Kenzou-san hiding in the closet is mostly as Uncle explained.”

Haruka grew puzzled from Yakumo’s explanation. “Don’t tell me, you heard?”

“From the middle,” said Yakumo nonchalantly. “Then why didn’t you come right away?”

“I wanted Uncle to take the spotlight. Well, the closure was lacking, though.” “Don’t say that. I’m not used to it,” said Isshin, touching his head with a troubled gesture.

“The closure was lacking? What do you mean by that?” Yakumo had said something similar as he had entered the room. Haruka didn’t understand what that line was referring to.

“Kenzou-san has no intention to sell this sake factory,” said Isshin. “What, so Uncle already knew,” said Yakumo in disbelief as he messed with his dishevelled hair.

“What do you mean?” asked Haruka, leaning her body forward. From Shizuko’s story, Kenzou had left home after graduating high school as he had been unwilling to inherit the family sake factory—

“Exactly as said. Kenzou-san has never once thought about selling this sake factory for the money.” “What are you saying? This person...” denied Shizuko immediately, but Yakumo interrupted her.

“I understand your feelings. However, you’re mistaken. Isn’t that right, Kenzou-san?” Lying on his stomach, Kenzou bit his lower lip. “I hated Shizuko. Ever since she arrived, Father only paid attention to her and never acknowledged me even if just a little. That was why I ran away from home.”

With tear filled eyes, Kenzou continued, “For the first few years, I wandered aimlessly whilst working part-time to put food on the table. Eventually I felt that I shouldn’t keep on going like that and began working at a sake factory in Tokyo. I studied there in hopes that someday Father would acknowledge me…” “Lies...you never said anything about that. Besides, if that was true, you should’ve told that to the previous owner.” Shizuko responded, criticising him.

“He couldn’t tell him. Kenzou-san intended to return after studying business management and acquiring sufficient knowledge to be acknowledged by his father,” Yakumo explained. “Eh?” exclaimed Shizuko.

“Unfortunately, he didn’t make it in time. The previous owner passed and Shizuko-san took over the place,” ended Yakumo. “In the end, Shizuko inherited this place. Father never cared about me to the end...” Kenzou said with trembling fists.

“Is that really the case?” mumbled Yakumo. “That’s why Father entrusted this factory to Shizuko, right?” said Kenzou, glaring at Yakumo.

Yakumo accepted his gaze head-on and went silent for a while before turning towards Shizuko. “Shizuko-san. Please check the contents of the will,” he said.

Despite appearing confused, Shizuko then took the will out of the envelope and read the contents. Shizuko’s face instantly hardened, before falling to her knees on the tatami.

The contents appeared to not be what Shizuko had expected. “What was written there?” asked Yakumo.

Shizuko lifted her face with lifeless eyes. “Assets such as cash and bank accounts are given entirely to me—” said Shizuko in a hoarse voice. “That was why you had Father die. After all, you were aiming for the assets...”

“Wrong! The previous owner had a heart disease. Since before Kenzou-san even left...but he didn’t say anything.” “What did you say!?” Kenzou yelled in anger, only for Gotou to hold him back. “Be quiet.”

“What else was written in the will?” asked Yakumo, urging her to continue. “All rights concerning the sake factory are given to Kenzou—”

Shizuko’s voice trembled. All this time, Shizuko had fought to protect her family’s sake factory. And yet, the sake factory was about to become Kenzou’s.

Surely she felt unwilling to accept that fact. As it turned out, Kenzou hadn’t expected the contents of the will either. “Really?” he said, voice filled with confusion.

“How cruel. Even though Shizuko-san has been protecting the sake factory all this time...” “You’re mistaken,” Yakumo blatantly denied Haruka’s words.

“What do you mean?” “Shizuko-san, the truth is, you actually feel relieved, right?” said Yakumo towards Shizuko.

“What are you saying?” “At the very least, the previous owner was aware of your low self-esteem and feeling of inferiority caused by your origins.”

“I...” “That was why the previous owner had paid more attention to you from the start. He must’ve felt guilty that the inferior feeling within you had been caused by him.”

“But...” “Though illegitimate, to the previous owner, you were still his child. So he suffered having to watch you help out the business just to find some worth in your existence.”

“That’s impossible...” “Do you know why the previous owner wrote the will to hand over the sake factory to Kenzou-san?” asked Yakumo.

Shizuko shook her head. “He knows about him...”

As if signalled by Yakumo’s words, a man entered the room. Despite being drenched head to toe from the rain, the man appeared lean and intelligent looking.

“Kazuo-san—” said Shizuko spontaneously. “Shizuko-san…I’m sorry. I can’t give up no matter what...” said the man called Kazuo with his head hung.

The sudden development made Haruka unable to understand the situation. “What’s going on?” asked Haruka.

Yakumo sighed and began his explanation. According to him, Kazuo was a banker in charge of the bank loan lent to the sake factory. After a few visits, he fell in love with Shizuko.

However, recently, it had been decided that Kazuo’s employment was going to be transferred. Because of that, he had proposed to Shizuko, to which she had rejected. The reason had been obvious.

If she were to marry Kazuo, she would have to be willing to follow him to his location of transfer. In doing so, she wouldn’t be able to protect the sake factory. “Don’t tell me, the previous owner had been aware of this, that’s why he intended to hand over rights to the sake factory to Kenzou-san so they could move forward with the marriage?” said Haruka.

“Correct. He thought eventually the day would come to set free Shizuko-san, who had tried to inherit the sake factory due to her feelings of inferiority. Luckily, Kenzou-san had intentions to take over the sake factory as well. In reality, the previous owner had wanted to express his intentions directly. Unfortunately, he passed away before he had the chance to do so. That was why he tried to convey his wishes by showing the location of the will he had hidden just in case.” Haruka understood after Yakumo’s explanation.

The situation wouldn’t have gotten this complicated if only they all had expressed their feelings honestly, but such was often not the case within families. Hence, inheritance disputes became a common occurrence.

“You’re joking with me. In the end, everything was for Shizuko’s sake. I was never acknowledged…” said Kenzou with a bitter look on his face. Tears fell from his eyes. Kenzou had practically decided to leave home because his father hadn’t acknowledged his existence. The fact that he was going to receive the sake factory in order to set Shizuko free—surely he couldn’t accept it.

“You misunderstood,” said Yakumo firmly. “What do you even know?”

Kenzou threw a challenging look at Yakumo. “To the previous owner, both you and Shizuko-san were his own flesh and blood. Not just Shizuko-san, you were both dear to him.”

“If so, then why didn’t Father look my way?” “He looked at you and watched over you closely. Did you think the previous owner decided to have you inherit the sake factory with no basis?”

“Eh?” “The previous owner often visited the place where you were studying sake brewery.”

“No way...” “Even in the sake production industry there are connections and acquaintances. The previous owner and the owner of the place you studied at were old friends. He frequently came by, but merely observed without reaching out to you to be considerate of the goal you were aiming for.”

“How did you know all those things?” asked Kenzou, voice trembling from emotion. “I asked the previous owner about it. His ghost is over there at this moment. You can see him too, don’t you?”

Yakumo pointed at the spot where the painting used to hang. While faint, Haruka could make out a dark shadow over there. Kenzou should be able to see it too. He kneeled down and sobbed loudly.

Kenzou and Shizuko, siblings from separate mothers. Various misunderstandings had occurred due to their complicated family circumstances, but they finally discovered the intentions of the previous owner. After this, they could slowly talk it over between the two of them.

Haruka stared at the painting laid atop of the tatami. The pair of red eyes appeared to be hinting at a gentle ray of light—

- 12

- “Hey, do you think that painting was of your ancestor, Yakumo-kun?” asked Haruka once they had returned to the car.

Apparently, the man with red eyes in that painting had been a purification expert. When Haruka had seen the painting for the first time, she couldn’t help it that the man with two red eyes—Yakumo’s father—had flashed into her mind. Even so, from what she had heard, supposedly the man in the painting had used his ability for the sake of others.

Just like Yakumo right now— “Who knows. I don’t know the details. Just that—” said Yakumo, turning to look beyond the window, where pouring rain continued still.

“Just that what?” “If that person’s eyes were both red and could see spirits, his life must’ve been much more difficult than the life I’ve led in the present.”

“Yeah...” What Yakumo said was right.

Right now, Yakumo was hiding the colour of his eye with black contact lens, but there was no such thing back in the Edo period. Discrimination at the time had to have been worse as well. The man in white kimono had to have lived in suffering from the odd and disgusted looks from other people.

“And yet, that person worked as a purification expert—” “Right.”

“He must’ve had an incredible amount of resolve. No, perhaps...” said Yakumo before muttering under his breath. “What?”

Haruka wanted to ask, but Yakumo evaded by saying, “Nevermind,” and said nothing further. Haruka had no idea what Yakumo could be thinking of at that moment.

Even so, after having encountered that painting, she felt that a peculiar fate had unravelled. “Anyway, the case is over. Let’s head back quickly,” said Yakumo whilst leaning against the car seat.

Gotou, who sat in the driver’s seat, and Isshin, who was in the passenger seat, turned their backs simultaneously. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be possible to head back,” said Isshin with an unusually troubled look.

“Not possible?” asked Yakumo, lifting his left eyebrow. “The roads are closed due to a landslide at the Chuo expressway,” Gotou sighed.

“It appears that we have no choice but to find somewhere to stay overnight,” Isshin continued. Having suspected the situation, Yakumo exhaled a long sigh—

- Translation Notes

[1] To be more specific, he was being compared to Bodhisattva Maitreya. [2] Kongozue (金剛杖), a type of pilgrim’s staff made of wood, with a square or octagonal cross section, most notably used for the Shikoku Pilgrimage.

[3] Tokonoma (床の間), a raised area in a Japanese-style room where artworks and important items are displayed.

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