Here, this is for not publishing an update in a while. Stupidity and sexual content warning. (Just implications, mind you.)
Michiru is a crazy stalker.
THE MONSTER OF THE SANDS
CHAPTER TWELVE
DELETED SCENE
Taking care not to make any noise, Michiru quietly peeks into the racer's room. It is clean and orderly, strangely enough, considering the racer's personality, with a neatly made bed. The only thing indicating that someone lives in here at all is a small book sitting on top of a pillow.
Glancing toward the kitchen, Michiru finally decides that it is safe enough to take a look around. She enters the room as silently as possible, which is simple thanks to the very soft carpet, and walks up to the bed. Taking care to memorize how the book sits on the pillow, she picks it up and takes a look at it.
It is an American book, she guesses, as it is in English. "Chicken Soup for the Soul," she reads aloud, raising an eyebrow, and she places it back down in the exact same position it was in before.
Next, she looks at Haruka's nightstand. It is bare, with just a lamp and an alarm clock on it. There are no pictures—and as she thinks that, she realizes that there are no pictures in the entire room. In fact, the only pictures she's seen as she's looked around the house are the ones in the trophy room, of the racer receiving—what else?—trophies.
She would almost feel bad about this if her inner fangirl wasn't squealing excitedly, suppressing all guilt she might have otherwise. She opens the nightstand's drawer, revealing a small necklace with a cross on it and a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs.
Michiru closes the drawer quickly, eyes wide. She laughs weakly, shocked, but reminds herself that Haruka is human too, and that she has needs like the rest of us.
To get her mind away from the handcuffs, she walks over to the closet. There are several expensive suits hanging in there, along with various articles of casualwear and pairs of shoes. And boy, does Haruka have shoes—she has everything from loafers to stilettos. Several pairs of stilettos, actually, and the most worn of those is a bright red pair.
"A shoe fetish?" Michiru mumbles, surprised. "Or just—"
She bends down to examine the shoes, but accidentally catches her own on a snag in the carpet. She falls forward and into the closet, barely managing to catch herself before she thumps onto the floor, and finds herself face-to-face with a ball gag.
She turns bright red for the third time in her life and scrambles away from it and out of the closet, setting all of the knocked pairs of shoes upright as she stands up.
She decides to go use the bathroom instead of staying in here.
She does so, only to discover that the racer is out of toilet paper.
Sighing in irritation and a bit of embarrassment, she opens the cabinet under the sink and reaches in, feeling around with her hand in hopes of finding another roll. Instead she comes across something else.
She pulls out a goddamn riding crop.
Her mouth falls open in horror and she puts it back as fast as she can. Careful of what she grabs this time, she feels around again, only to discover another thing that feels nothing like toilet paper. Knowing that she will regret this, she wraps her hand around it and pulls out a very large—
She leaves the bathroom as fast as she can, convincing herself that she doesn't need toilet paper. Panties still around her ankles, as she doesn't want to touch them with her germy hands, she rushes to the kitchen and pours the entire bottle of soap over her hands. Haruka stares at her as she washes them for fifteen minutes.