The fist in her mouth was the only thing keeping Kanae from screaming. She whimpered once, a sound as sad and annoying as the ones he-was it really him- had made outside her door. The thought irritated her. She kicked him once, right in the side. He didn't move, but he was definitely solid, and real, and completely naked.
"This can't be happening," Kanae said, stepping over Sho's body. She knew who he was. Everyone in Tokyo knew who he was, so even if her best friend hadn't been disastrously obsessed with Sho Fuwa she would've been able to identify the body lying on her floor.
A body. Kanae pivoted and knelt beside him, feeling for a pulse. It was there, pulsing cockily as if mocking the trouble she'd be in if she was found with a dead body. Her career would be over. Mo, her career would be over if Cedric found out about this. Mo, her life would be over if Kyoko found out about this! Kanae turned her back on Sho again. She crouched in front of her fridge, opened it, and stuck her head as far into the cool interior as possible.
"Think, Kotonami," she whispered. "What do we do now?" She drummed her fingers on the outside of the fridge. She stood, nudging it closed with her foot, a plan forming.
First, brush her teeth and scrub her face, getting rid of all traces of dog slobber.
Second, get dressed in sensible but cheap clothes. She had no idea what condition he'd be in if he woke, and the smell of vomit was difficult to get out without an industrial laundry machine. The ones at the laundromat down the street were barely functioning.
Third, finish her salad. She ran her eyes clinically over the body on her floor as she ate. No bite marks, from what she could see. Not even any bruises. The fur was completely gone, his entire body smooth, shaven or waxed-typical in their line of work. He had hands, not paws, and two legs that lay awkwardly crooked in collapse. Not shaggy, muscle-bound limbs ending in thick black claws.
Her brain was screaming at her to find a medical explanation, even as her soul snickered about werewolves being real. Kanae set the empty salad bowl down and walked the few steps back to Sho's side. She threw her brother's t-shirt over his hips then prodded at his shoulder with her foot until he rolled over on his back. "Wake up."
Sho's mouth hung open. Kanae licked her lips uncertainly. She walked around to his feet and grabbed his ankles. Preferably, she'd be able to get him out of her apartment. But she owned no clothes in his size, and the image of her dragging a nude male down the halls was one she'd like to avoid in tabloids. All publicity is good publicity is not a rule to which Kanae Kotonami ascribed.
She huffed, blowing the exertion of dragging him out in quick, short puffs. It wasn't far to the bathroom, but his dead weight was heavy enough each of the three steps took all her muscle. She wedged his feet in the shower area, stepped across his torso, braced herself on his shoulders and heaved. He folded forward with a shout of sudden consciousness. Kanae gasped, slammed the door, and winced just as his head hit thud on the flimsy particle board.
He moaned. She ran, dragging her futon forward to seal off the bathroom door. She braced herself between it and the other wall, her legs locked, hoping against hope she'd have enough strength to keep him inside if he changed back. Sooner or later, he'd tire and she'd have enough freedom to get up, grab her phone, and call someone to help. Kanae winced, fully aware she had no idea who to call.
The moan turned into a shout of glee. She heard rustling, and then a pounding sound. "Yes! Hah! Take that, Granny, you old fuckwit! Fuwa is back! Ahhhh." The sound he made was indecent.
Kanae scowled at the warmth of the blush on her face. "What the hell is going on, Fuwa?" she shouted. "You're a werewolf?"
His pleased sigh cut off into sudden silence. The doorknob rattled. Kanae braced her legs against the sudden force of the door trying to open. "Who's out there?"
"What do you mean, who? You're the one that stalked me. You're the one that forced his way into my apartment and-and-" Kanae's brain faltered at the word kiss. "-did things!"
She could barely hear him. His voice was muffled, by more than the thin door. "Fuck." A snapping sound. "Strawberries and jasmine, that's you, isn't it."
"What on earth? No!" Kanae shoved as hard as she could against the futon, enjoying the thump it made against the bathroom door. "I'm Kanae Kotonami, not some stripper, and you assaulted me!"
"Heeeey now." His palm made a soft tapping sound on the door. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to, I mean. All I remember is you smelling really good."
"Pervert!"
"No! It must be a dog thing. Let me out, let me see you."
"Pervert! I'm going to call the cops!"
Fuwa laughed. "If you were going to do that, you would've done it already. Good luck explaining to them why I'm in your apartment without any signs of struggle and I'm the only one that's naked." A pause. "I am the only one that's naked, right?"
Kanae's mouth fell open in shock. She stood and kicked the futon aside, jerking open the door. He stepped back, a cocky grin on his face and his hands raised in the air in front of his chest.
"You pervert!" she yelled, kicking him in the balls. He yelped in pain. She stood there a moment longer, watching him curl in on himself, making sure he saw just how fully dressed she was. Then she shut the door again.
His head thumped against the door. She listened to the sound of him sliding slowly down the length of it. When he finally stopped moaning, he said, "What is this… you're so not my type."
"I am everyone's type!" Kanae stood with her hands on her hips.
She could hear the grimace in his voice when he spoke. "Just give me some clothes, woman. I'll leave. Gladly."
Kanae pulled a hot pink tracksuit out of her cardboard armoir. She whipped open the bathroom door. Fuwa fell backward, his head landing on her foot. This time, at least, he had her brother's shirt covering himself-and his hands on top, and added layer of protection. She dropped the tracksuit on his head and spun on her heel. "I'm going to the roof. Get dressed, and leave. If I don't see you on the street in front of this building in two minutes, I'm calling the cops and telling them you robbed me." She grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of him. "And this is for proof, so they can lock you up for the pervert you are."
Fuwa bared his teeth at her in a grin. Kanae took a step back, suddenly reminded of just how big and how ferocious the boy's other form could be.
Fuwa stood to his full height, eye to eye with her. He held her tracksuit loosely in one hand and rubbed his neck with the other. He cocked his head, watching her. "You said you were leaving," he said, "unless you want to stay and enjoy the show."
Kanae scowled, turned on her heel, and left. Just before the door shut, she heard him laugh. "Woof," he said quietly. And then, "Shit, Fuwa. This is some serious shit."