Chapter 9.)

Time to wake up, wake up!

"nghh…"

Time to wake up, wake up!

Tomoko reached for her phone, which was just barely within her reach, and shut the alarm off.

The window beside her bed was dark. Raindrops fell in sporadic intervals, decreasing then increasing, then stopping completely, only to resume in full once more. Tomoko loved days like this—firstly for their cinematic aesthetic, and secondly because it gave her an irrefutable excuse to stay inside all day.

Tomoko waltzed downstairs lazily, and poured herself a cup of coffee. It was cold, but she didn't mind. She could tell from the dishes that were left in the sink that everyone else had already had breakfast—and that she was home alone.

Tomoko opened the fridge, and saw that there were some leftovers from the other night—sashimi.

"Meh," she said to herself, opening the box, and eating a piece. She sat upside-down in front of the TV, and watched some terrible anime shows, eating (and sometimes choking, as her body position was somewhat risky to eat food in).

After some time passed, she pulled out her phone and texted Aizaku.

"Hey are you up?"

Shortly after came the reply:

"Yeah, it's 12:30. Were you up playing games all night?"

"Yeah,"

"Shameful."

Tomoko smiled. She had grown to love his playful teasing.

"Well were you thinking about doing anything today? We could hang out or something." He wrote.

"Uh, I'd be okay with that."

"Wait hold on. My mother is hosting today so I can't actually do that."

"Oh whatever," Tomoko wrote, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I could come over to your house maybe?"

Tomoko's heart dropped, and her anxiety set in, growing more and more severe as she ruminated.

My room is a mess. I am a mess. What if he saw my 50 pounds of hentai. He'd be disgusted. He'd dump me. The whole school would make fun of me. Every day would be a living nightmare. Pervert Kuroki, they'd call me. My whole high school experience ruined. I'd be too depressed to test. I'd have to drop out. I couldn't get a job. Mom wouldn't let me live here forever. I'd become homeless. I'd have to kill myself to end it all.

Tomoko snapped into reality, and wiped the nervous sweat off of her forehead.

"You know, I'm not sure if that's a good idea,"

"Oh would it be too awkward?"

"Yeah," she said.

"What if I brought Makoto?"

Tomoko realized that she had totally forgotten that Makoto existed.

Whatdoidowhatdoido.

"No I wouldn't want to put you through the trouble of picking him up,"

"Are you sure, because I can pick him up—"

"Yes I'm sure," she wrote, trying to be polite.

"Okay then. I'll just come alone."

"Okay," she wrote, before realizing the hole she had just dug for herself.

"Be there in 10," he wrote back.

Panic.

Panic.

PANIC.

Tomoko's eyes became pinpricks, and unwelcome words bounced around in her head like tennis balls in a circular room.

Alone. Sexual tension. Boy. ALONE. ALONE! Stuck inside. Nothing to do.

Hentai. He sees it. Hentai. Pervert Kuroki!

Tomoko rushed up to her room and tried her hardest to make everything appear natural. Dripping with sweat, she threw all of her dirty clothing under the bed, and made her bed somewhat nicely. She sprinted into the shower—nearly killing herself in the process—and scrubbed her unclean body aggressively with anything that smelled remotely good.

Suddenly, she began to feel ill.

Jeez, I'm so nervous that my stomach feels like I'm totally sick.

Tomoko dried her hair off in a hurry. As she was putting her clothing on, she heard the doorbell ring.

"Coming!" she said, her voice cracking. She checked once more in the mirror—and she noticed how pale and green she looked. Nerves… she said to herself. Calm down, calm down.

Tomoko opened the door, and noticed that Aizaku was soaking wet.

"Oh, hurry, come in," she said. "I'll get you a towel,"

"Oh thanks," he said, shutting the door. "My umbrella broke last week."

"You should get another one. You don't want to catch a cold or something,"

"You seem to be speaking from experience," he said, laughing.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh wait, are you not sick?" he asked.

"Sick?"

As soon as Tomoko said the word, she became aware of a crippling nausea and a squirming pain in her stomach. She clutched her stomach in pain, and took a knee.

"Tomoko," Aizaku said, coming over to her.

"Oh…shit…" she said, holding in her vomit.

"It's a good thing that I came," he said, petting her hair, and setting her heavy head on his lap. "You're super ill. What happened?"

"I'm not ill…" she said, sweat dripping onto the floor. "I'm not—"

Right as Tomoko was about to say "sick", she vomited—not in any particular direction that she would have liked, but all over Aizaku. A single tear streamed down her face as she wretched—chunks of half-digested, contaminated sashimi spilling all over the floor.

Aizaku didn't move. Tomoko couldn't look up at him. Her whole body shook with nerves.

This is it. I've ruined it.

"Well," Aizaku said, half-chuckling. "These clothes are no good now,"

"I'm so…" Tomoko gagged. "So sorry…"

Tomoko's eyes glittered with tears, and her skin—though pale from the illness—began to look like porcelain beside her raven-colored hair. Although a tiny drip of vomit ran down her lip, Aizaku thought at that moment that she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life.

"Tomoko," he said, almost unconsciously. "You're so beautiful."

What does he mean? Tomoko thought in confusion. What could that mean?

Suddenly, even though he was thoroughly doused in vomit, he hugged her.

.I…

"Tomoko," he whispered into her ear, sending chills up her spine.

..I….

"There's nothing that you could do to make me not love you."

.even in my filthiness….lowly and wretched…

"I love you."

With her eyes wide open, tears began to stream down her face like rapids,-two words ruminating in her head:

Loved…unconditionally…

When he finally pulled back, she noticed that Aizaku hadn't even cringed.

The two remained there for a short while—giving Tomoko a chance to recollect herself as much as possible. After a while, Aizaku finally spoke up.

"Now let's get you cleaned up," he said, stroking her hair gently.

"I…I can get you new cloth—"

Tomoko vomited again, this time, all over the floor, cutting her off mid sentence.

"Nonsense," he said. "You need to get cleaned up and go right to bed. Is your mom home?"

"…n…no…" Tomoko said.

"I don't have anything to do today, so I don't mind taking care of you, if you'll have me," he said.

"I don't need you to…" Tomoko said before being overcome by a wave of illness. Maybe I do…

After she had showered and gotten into bed, Aizaku put a wet washcloth on her head, and waited on her continually. He didn't let her eat, but he did an amazing job at taking her mind off of the fact that she was horribly food poisoned.

Tomoko was still embarrassed by the whole ordeal, but this time she felt that something was different. She felt somehow less embarrassed by things that should have been super embarrassing—like when your doctor sees you naked. It wasn't as weird as it would normally be. Rather, she felt like her relationship with Aizaku was almost familial.

Tomoko moaned as she woke up from a half-sleep. Aizaku was still there, reading some random book.

Why the hell would he bring a book over to a friend's house?

"Oh, Tomoko, you're awake," he said, folding the book. "How you feeling?"

Tomoko didn't say anything. She just leaned back, and tried to pretend she was asleep. She was so cold—unbearably cold. But she didn't want to tell him.

Besides he's busy reading…I wonder where he brought that book from… he didn't bring a backpack…

Tomoko's eyes shot open wide.

WHERE THE HELL DID HE GET THAT BOOK.

Tomoko sat up quickly, and turned to him. The whole movement was so fast that Aizaku actually jolted.

"WHAT ARE YOU READING." Tomoko monotonously said in a mixture of agony and anticipation.

"Oh, its just one of the mangas I found in your—"

Tomoko immediately flopped out of bed and crawled over to him, like a dying zombie reaching for a victim.

"NO NO NO NO NO," she said, grabbing it from his hands.

Sadly, Tomoko's worst fears had already come true. The book he was reading, albeit a non-H manga, was the one she had just put underneath a stack of hentai—meaning that he definitely saw the others before reaching that one.

Tomoko became beet red, and looked down.

Shit. I knew this would happen. Pervert Kuroki.

"Tomoko," Aizaku said, kneeling down to her. He helped her get back into bed. She was limp and tiny, like an oversized, overheated doll in silky pajamas.

"I…I…" words wouldn't work for her.

"You're going to kill yourself, Tomoko," he said, putting the washcloth back on her forehead.

"I'm….sorry," she said, barely audible. It was honestly the best she could've done at that point.

Aizaku seemed confused. "For what?"

Tomoko felt for a millisecond that she had gotten off the hook. She said nothing, hoping they would both forget.

"Oh you mean the porn," Aizaku suddenly said.

Tomoko about died right then.

Just kill me now. Please someone end my life. Why did I leave them out after that whole anxiety attack? The one thing I shouldn't have forgotten…

"Yeah, I figured you to be more of a Yaoi girl than normal hentai…" he said, going over to her desk.

No. Please don't pick them up. Please don't do this.

"Do you want to read these?" he said, picking them up.

Of course I do you jackass! But if I say I do, you'll dump me!

"Those aren't mine," she said, summoning all of her might to help her talk. This was honestly the best effort she could possibly have done.

Aizaku turned to her.

"Listen, Tomo," he said. This was the first time he had called her by that name. He walked over to her, where she covered up half of her face like a child who knew a punishment was coming. Aizaku couldn't hear her, but she let out a slow, high pitched, fearful whine.

"It doesn't bother me that you read that kind of stuff," he said, petting her hair almost seductively.

Tomoko's heart was beating so hard that it ached.

"In fact," he said. "I actually like a girl that's a bit of a pervert."

Tomoko stared at him with wide, glistening eyes.

Then threw up again—this time, from nerves. It sure as hell killed the moment, but Tomoko was glad that something did. Because if she would have let that moment go any further, she would have probably ended up kissing him with her disgusting vomitus mouth—and that would be something she could have never recovered from.

Later that night, as Aizaku was leaving, Tomoko expressed her gratitude, and sent him on his way with a spare umbrella. He kissed her on the cheek, and began his walk through the rain, back to his house.

What a terrifying day. Tomoko thought, closing the door.

As she was about to go back to bed, her phone rang. She had a text.

"Hey, Tomo, I forgot my jacket—the pukey one—by the drier. Could I stop by tomorrow and get it?"

"Sure thing," she said.

"Awesome. Don't go down and get it, alright? You're too sick,"

"Oh no, I'll be okay."

"No, no, seriously, Tomo. Stay in bed. It probably smells bad too,"

"Ok,"

"Alright, goodnight then,"

"nite,"

Regardless, Tomoko knew that she had to go and retrieve it for a number of reasons—the primary reason being that if her mom knew a boy was here without her knowing, she could get in a lot of trouble. So Tomoko trudged out of bed and down the stairs. She grabbed the jacket off of the rack by the drier—but then noticed that it had been cleaned.

Huh. He said it would be pukey. I wonder why he would say that if it were clean.

The jacket felt heavier than normal too. This aroused Tomoko's suspicion.

Feeling around in the pockets, Tomoko's frail hand touched something unusual.

She pulled it out.

In her hands was a hentai manga—not one of hers.

Tomoko was overwhelmed with a sense of mild jealousy and arousal.

So there's a pervert under those glasses, huh? I should've known.

Smiling, Tomoko took the manga upstairs, and read the whole thing.

I'm going to embarrass him later for this. She thought to herself, laughing.

That night, Tomoko slept better than she had slept in a long time.